#I know nothing about the military shhhh

[sketchyfandomgirl]

Simon Riley has a Medusa tattoo. It’s never seen since he keeps it hidden beneath his clothes at all times. But it’s small, and almost easily missed at first glance. Only a few select people know about the tattoo.

Like you.

Simon trusts you the most out of everyone he knows. Probably more than his best friend Soap. Probably even the Captain. You knew Simon the longest by almost more than a decade, as you grew up together after your family moved to Manchester.

You were there when he decided to enlist in the military. Being there to see him off, attending his graduation from boot camp and tapping him out alongside his mother.

He trusts you a lot. Enough to be an emergency contact if anything were to go wrong.

You got a call, all the way from America, in Texas if you can believe it, that one Simon Riley has been found near the Texas-Mexico border half dead and was in recovery. So you booked a flight to Texas that very night. Wasn’t Simon supposed to be on some covert mission? What the hell happened?

Simon was reluctant to talk about what happened, but he eventually opened up about the horrors he endured while he was captured by Roba.

The violence, especially the sexual abuse that Simon wouldn’t even tell his assigned therapist. You were Simon’s safety, his most entrusted person who he could be more open with.

It would take years to help him heal.

But eventually, he did start to heal from the process, and asked you to come along with him to a tattoo appointment.

It was there, Simon’s sign of addressing his pain was finally closing to an end, did he get a Medusa tattoo.

[starset21]

Chapter 7: Changing Perspectives

Standard Disclaimer: I only own my original characters, I've done some research but there will likely be Navy/military inaccuracies, and I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may be found is on tumblr and Wattpad under @.itswildflower

Looking for the other chapters? U.S.S. Christmas Masterlist 

A/N: This story is heavily inspired by the hallmark movie of the same title and is very self-indulgent. I'm also trying a different format than I'm used to using so it may change in later chapters.

Summary: Kate finally tracks down Jonah and Dorothy

“Good Morning,” Jake greeted his father.

“Morning son. So... Kate told me that you had a great day in New York,” Ron started.

“Yeah, it was nice. We ended up at the train show.”

“The same one I took you to as a kid?”

Jake nodded.

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Brought back a lot of memories of Christmas. And memories of the divorce. You know, we never really talked about you leaving, pops. One day you just moved away and it was… The code of silence after that,” Jake confessed.

“I regret that. Somehow it just seemed easier to act like nothing happened,” Ron shook his head.

“I-I just... I didn't understand, especially at Christmas. I just wanted my dad,” Jake told him.

“I failed you. I failed your mom. But I want you to know how much I missed you. When you got older, why do you think I wanted you to be a pilot so bad?” he asked.

“To follow in your footsteps?” Jake guessed.

“To… To be close to you. You are the most important thing to me in my entire life, more important than any career,” Ron confessed.

“Your career is everything to you,” Jake pointed out incredulously.

“And I'm proud of my service and what I've accomplished. But nothing… Nothing holds a candle to my only son,” Ron finished.

“Thanks, pops.” 

“How's my Christmas story coming?” Kate’s editor in chief asked as soon as she got into the office.

“I'm still working on it, but I'm honestly not sure if it's gonna be done in time,” Kate told him.

“Well, I'm counting on this. You have till end of day, then I'm gonna have to go with something else,” he told her sternly.

Kate left his office with a frown and went to her desk, sitting down and putting her head in her hands. “I can't believe this. I finally have a heartwarming story worth telling, and I don't even know how to tell it. I… I don't know what else to do,” she lamented.

“Go get hot chocolate with me?” Abigail, her best friend asked.

“With marshmallows? Lots of marshmallows?” Kate asked sadly.

“As many as you want,” Abigail confirmed.

“Okay. Lets go,” she told her, standing up.

“So you can't find any record on Jonah William?” Abby asks as they get on the elevator.

“Oh, no, I found plenty, but none that match the age and profile of our pilot, its so frustrating. It's like he's a ghost or something,” Kate groaned.

“I can't believe it's this hard to find someone,” Abby commiserated.

“I know. It's a mystery,” Kate sighed.

“Sounds like you've had quite the adventure on that ship. By the way, whatever happened to Mr. Military man?”

Kate’s face heated. “We, um… We almost kissed,” she confessed.

“What?!” Abby nearly yelled.

“Abby! Shhhh. But it's not going anywhere,” she told her.

“Wait. A romance grounded before taking flight? Do you like him?” Abby pressed.

“Yes. But it's not that simple, Abby,” Kate told her.

“Just imagine the wedding! All those handsome groomsmen in uniform? With their swords? Your bridesmaids in peach? That is my color palette, by the way,” Abby smirked. 

“A wedding announcement!” Kate’s eyes snapped to Abby’s.

“I'm convincing, but…” Abby trailed off.

“No, no, maybe there's a wedding announcement for Jonah and Dorothy,” Kate started as the elevator door opened. “I don't know why I haven't thought about this before. You're on to something…” Kate trailed off as she spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. “Jake?”

Jake nodded to the woman at the reception desk and turned. “Can we talk?” he asked. 

“I hope it's okay I came to see you,” he said after they came to a stop in a park.

“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything's good. Oh, I... I brought this for you. You know, just in case you find him,” he told her, pulling out the ornament that said ‘To Dorothy.’

“I... I can't believe you came all this way just to give me this,” Kate told him.

Jake’s adams apple bobbed before he spoke again. “You know, I… Really didn't want to say goodbye to you yesterday. When you left, it felt… It felt wrong. You know? Like I was losing something. I've fallen for you, Kayleigh Wells. And before you say anything, I know how you feel about what I do. The military life. But… I was just hopin' maybe I could take you out on a date. We can see where things go,” he explained. 

“Jake. What if one date turns into two, and then two dates turns into three, and… Look, if… If this goes somewhere, it's not gonna end well. So is it even worth taking that risk?”

“Remember when you asked me if I was ever scared when I'm flying, and I told you that I'm not scared of anything?”

Kate nodded.

“Well, the truth is… I'm scared of falling in love. But I'm willing to take that chance,” Jake told her.

“Jake... i-I'm so sorry. I can't…” she looked away from him.

“So is that it? Kayleigh, what if our whole lives have led up to this point? What if you and I found each other just like Jonah and Dorothy did?” Jake asks.

“I have to go back to work,” Kate told him, water beginning to line her eyes.

“Kate… I'm not gonna hurt you,” Jake says quietly.

Kate shakes her head. “You don't know that,” she told him before walking away yet again.

“He seems sweet,” Abby attempts to start the conversation when Kate returned.

“Yeah, he is, but romance grounded, remember?”

Abby frowned at her.

“Look. That's them. They were married on Christmas day in 1974. But their last name isn't William, it's Williams. They must have gotten it wrong on his file before the fire,” Kate told her, pointing her computer screen towards her friend. 

“Fire? Whatever. You're a genius. Keep going.”

“Last known address… Veterans home in Norfolk.” Kate picked up her phone and made a quick call.

“What did they say?” Abby asked when she hung up.

“They moved out a couple of years ago and they can't give me any information unless I'm family,” Kate sighed.

“So close! Wait. Look at that. The call sign painted on his plane. What does it say? "Picas... so"?” Abby pointed to a photo Kate had found.

“Picasso. That's funny,” Kate mused.

“What?” Abby asked.

“There's a diner I've been going to since I was a little girl, Picasso's diner. Do you think there could be a connection?” she asked her friend.

“It would be a Christmas miracle if there is. Go get 'em, Kate.” 

Kate quickly made her way to the old diner. “Hi, Sharon,” she greeted as she stepped inside the establishment.

“Kate! Your brother joining?” she asked.

“No, no, I'm not here to eat. No, I actually have a question about a story that I'm working on,” Kate told her.

“Is it about that bank president?” Sharon asked.

“No, not him. It's about a man named Jonah Williams, he was a pilot for the Navy, he married a woman named Dorothy?”

“Yes, Joe, he owned the diner. He sold it about 25 years ago. I worked for him as a teenager,” Sharon told her.

“Any idea where he is now?”

“No, but I do believe that he has a daughter in Virginia beach. Lily is her name,” Sharon told her.

“Sharon, you are amazing, I'll see you on Christmas day!” Kate exclaimed before heading back to the office.

Kate couldn't help the smile that was growing on her face as she heard the words spoken on the other end of the phone.

“Okay! Thanks! Okay, that sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow,” Kate hung up and threw her hands up in the air out of excitement. Abby sent her a questioning look.

“I did it! I found Jonah and Dorothy. They live with their daughter now, I'm heading to go see them tomorrow,” Kate told her.

“That's great!” Abby exclaimed. 

The next morning Kate knocked on the hardwood door of the Williams residence.

“Kate?” the daughter Lily asked.

“Yeah! Hi! Merry Christmas,” Kate greeted.

“Merry Christmas. They're on the back porch, come on in.”

“Okay, thank you.” Kate stepped through the front door and followed Lily through the house.

“Come on in. Mom, dad, this is Kate from the Norfolk register,” Lily introduced.

“Hi! Lily told us about this story you're working on,” Dorothy smiled.

“Yeah. Yes, it's just, oh, your life, it's so exciting. Do you mind if I record this?” Kate asked, taking a seat across from them.

“By all means. But I don't know what all the fuss is about,” Jonah laughed.

“Well, from what I could tell, Mr. and Mrs. Williams, you just have such an incredible story. Now, tell me… What happened after the tiger cruise, how did you win over Dorothy?” Kate asked.

“Well, her brother told me where the dance studio was, so after we docked, I drove seven hours to find her in New York City,” he started.

“He made it in the Nick of time. Practically had to duel the doctor I was seeing. I wasn't sure about that guy. But there was something about Joe. So I ended my relationship, and after a few dates, I knew. He was the one,” Dorothy chimed in.

“We got engaged shortly after, and we were gonna wait to get married until after I got out of the service. But then I got called back to Vietnam,” Joe sighed.

“I told him I would wait as long as it took. I just didn't realize how long it would be,” Dorothy added.

At Kate’s questioning look Jonah picked up the story.

“My plane got shot down in Vietnam and, well, the next seven years I was a pow,” he told her.

“I had kept hope alive. But then when the war ended, two officers walked up the driveway, and I thought for sure Joe had died. Instead they said he was alive! I fell on the ground crying. It was the greatest moment of my life,” Dorothy told her.

“What gave you the strength to not give up on him?” Kate asked.

“I prayed every night that he'd come home. He had to. He's my one true love, after all,” Dorothy told her.

“Okay, and, let's see. How did you end up at the diner?” Kate asked Joe.

“Well, I was an artist. That's why the guys gave me the call sign "Picasso." They were always teasing me because whenever I wasn't flying, I was sketching. But I couldn't make any money in art, so I opened the diner. But it's amazing that you figured this all out,” he told her.

“Oh. Well, uh… It was tricky with your last name having two spellings,” Kate chuckled. 

“Oh, yeah. The Navy messed that up. They left off the "s," and I just left it as "William." I finally got it corrected to Williams when I came home from Vietnam,” Jonah informed her.

“And do you two have any more children?” she asked.

“We have two older sons in the marines corps, five grandchildren. And they're coming to visit today!” Dorothy exclaimed.

“How were you okay with just uprooting your life like that for Jonah, for the Navy?” Kate asked.

“Easiest decision of my life,” Dorothy said immediately. “It didn't matter. Joe was my home. Wherever we went, all I needed was him. And I had the kids and my dance career, which always kept me very busy.”

“You know, the U.S.S Polaris is named after the north star. It's the way sailors have been finding their way home for centuries. And in this case, it led me to Dorothy,” Jonah told her and Kate nodded.

“Actually, I have something for you,” Kate told them, pulling a tin that she had placed the ornament in out of her bag and opening the lid. “I think this belongs to you,” she offered it to them.

“Oh! I don't believe it! Joe, look! It's the star you made for me,” Dorothy smiles, looking at him.

“Where did you find this?” he asked as Dorothy carefully pulled the ornament out of the tin.

“A pilot I know, he found it in an old box on the ship,” Kate told them.

“It's a symbol of our everlasting love. Thank you. Did this pilot help you track us down?” Dorothy asked.

Kate nodded.

“Well, please... thank him. For us,” Jonah smiled almost knowingly.

“Oh, I will. He's… He's a wonderful man,” Kate tells them. 

[sorryyourenglishteachersucked]

Possibly my biggest problem with trying to make hard and fast rules about what kind of Problematic Subjects (TM) people are Not Allowed to Like or Create At All is that it's always so EXTREMELY limited in scope, so reductive about what constitutes "problematic", that it functionally ends up sorting stories into "as common-sense-bad as serving fried babies in the stands at a puppy-kicking contest and thus depiction of it is just as evil because if the story is fun or cathartic in ANY way someone might take it as saying it's good to reenact (because that's what common-sense-bad means, that people can be convinced it's good that easily)" or "wholesome perfectly imitable aspirational goodness that you should strive to recreate in the real world, no flaws, this is what utopia looks like, this is the ideal", and NOTHING in between exists, CAN exist...

And because human emotions are an irrational mess, this ends up meaning that a LOT of stuff showing some MAJOR unexamined biases ends up getting defensively shunted into the latter category.

How?

Hey, booktok! Look at this far-future military culture bravely standing up against aliens who are, by both their culture and their very genetic nature, just too evil and warlike to EVER reason with! Nearly 30% of the named characters are women including our lead couple and we have two trans characters too and we EVEN take 20 whole seconds to address the reasons that a military still exists at all so there's nothing sexist or problematic here! It's all but a post-patriarchal utopia! Never mind that everyone still looks down on survival skills like textile creation and sewing and gardening and cooking as soft frivolous nonsense only applicable to homemaking, that's a TRUE FACT and definitely not just an internalized bias because the author lives in a society where those are ~for giiIiIIrrRrRrllLLs~, and there's nothing even slightly questionable about the fact that the innately evil aliens are basically orcs transposed into a sci-fi setting, shhhh, orcs have never been written in a way that carries any kind of baggage, no more questions, don't you want cute lesbians surviving against the odds? What are you, some kind of homophobe!?

This also carries over to relationship dynamics; consider how...for all they get held up as the height of wholesome cuteness, coffee shop AUs aren't ~unproblematic~ at all. Sure, in the context of the story we can tell that the character cast as the barista is interested, but if that were a real-life situation? The only one who would be able to know if they're interested or not would be them, thanks to the limitations of Customer Service Mode. You can't ethically enter a relationship with someone in a situation where they don't have a safe way to firmly and unambiguously say no, and guess what, that's what most coffee shop meetings are! You see unproblematic fluff; well, when you call it that I just see workplace harassment. I'm not gonna say anyone can't write or enjoy these AUs! But I AM gonna side-eye the hell out of anyone who insists they're ~perfectly wholesome goodness~...at least, as long as the characters don't have an age gap greater than 2 years or so; if they DO have an age gap (and yes it still counts if it exists in canon but not in your fic) THERE'S an irreconcilable power dynamic! The only one in play here. Everything else about this scenario is 100% imitable and wholesome and healthy and fine!

...yeah. No. That's not how this works. That's not how any of this works.

See, one of the big problems with the whole Irredeemable Media mindset is that it declares that if you DON'T make that argument, and make it convincingly, you're not allowed to like this thing and still call yourself a Good Person; if you do like this thing, and you can't justify why it's wholly Unproblematic and totally okay to reenact irl, you're morally equivalent to an actual, literal child molester (and that one is not hyperbole but in fact the most common accusation flung over this).

But the problem is, Liking Things is an emotional response, not a rational choice. Liking Things is not something you consciously decide to do after evaluating that the Thing is 100% consistent with your worldview; it's just something that Happens.

So, look. To simplify it to a short paragraph, media analysis is supposed to work like this: you examine the piece of media and the events in it and the world it illustrates, you ask yourself what context it was written in, you ask yourself about the culture it originated from and how that influence shows in the end result, you ask yourself what about it resonated with you, for better, worse, and neutral, and from there, at the end of the process, you draw your conclusions about What It Means and how it relates to real-world issues and human behavior and whether or not you'd recommend it to others, and if so, to whom.

But when you follow this liking-media-is-a-one-to-one-reflection-of-one's-real-world-values mindset, what often ends up happening is that you get the process backward and engage in some dangerous circular reasoning: You Like This Piece. You Are A Good Person. Therefore, This Piece Is Good. You Like It, Therefore It Reflects Your Values, Therefore Its Values Are Good. It Is Not Problematic, Otherwise You Would Not Like It.

Ironically, that approach is far more inclined to make you want to accept some really fucked up ideas because your favorite piece of media contains them, than delighting in liking problematic trash ever would. Why?

Because you're not analyzing a piece of media, you're defending your own entire character. Your value as a moral human being. Your inherent goodness. Your ticket to heaven. You're defending all of this as if you're on trial. In order for You to still be Good, your favorite piece of media must also be Good, meaning everything about it must be Good. Those space orcs don't have any racist baggage, because they're not human! There is certainly no history of Black and indigenous people being compared to races of inhuman monsters; in fact, anyone who points out how their broad noses and war paint and the dark tones of their blue skin do indeed have some Implications in racial coding, those people are full of shit, those people are the REAL racists for making the comparison! And, and anyone who suggests that your coffee shop AU, when read through a lens of realism, is just as questionable about consent as any pulp bodice-ripper, and that both of these subgenres use romance genre conventions as a shorthand for consent instead of showing it explicitly and that's okay as long as the target audience also understands what's going on - no, absolutely not, clearly this is just a bad-faith argument to hold up an ACTUAL problematic ship, you're nothing like those trashy edgelord authors, see, the barista laughed at and leaned into the flirty joke, no one in the history of customer service work has EVER done that as a professional courtesy or to prevent a conflict from escalating while silently wishing the interaction was over and wondering if the customer is going to stalk them after their shift, or at least no one is a good enough actor that if they were thinking that you wouldn't be able to tell, the consent was totally clear and totally illustrated 100% realistically!

Whereas, if you just admit to yourself that, yeah, okay, the author of Fight The Aliens And Make It Lesbian definitely tried to make something overall positive, and oh boy did they ever deliver in terms of letting a diverse cast be action heroes and examining how that kind of stress can affect a person and how people can still find joy in the direst of situations, but they still had some unexamined biases that show through and it's worth addressing so we can do even better in the future; or that actually, yeah, the reason the customer/barista meet cute is fun to fantasize about is because the nature of the narrative eliminates the uncertainty about everyone's intentions, even though it's every bit as inimitable as professor/student in reality (and holy shit more people need to be aware of that actually, workplace harassment is fucking rampant) - that shows far more moral integrity than trying to jump through hoops to justify these things. Under the other model, you were bending over backward to give these things a pass to prove you weren't a Bad Person for liking them, and in the process defending some genuinely indefensible ideas and irl behavior. Now, you're just letting yourself be a human person with emotions that don't necessarily equal something you should act on, or even that you would ENJOY acting on - I mean really now, when you stop and think about it, would you actually want to try and flirt with your blorbo over the cafe counter when you get nervous even just ordering coffee from a normal person?

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 20

Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Warnings: Language and mentions of weird sexual stuff

**Thanks @burnsoslow​. for pre-reading and “The Army” girls for snippet reads.

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

“An email from the Countess?” Ana questioned curiously, just before hitting the video attachment that came with it. Her plush lips soon curved into an enchanted grin when it became apparent who the subjects in the video were and precisely what they were doing together. “Looks like you’re about to get your hard-hitting royal news after all.”

Having finally retrieved his phone, Donnie situated himself upright in the bed and began playing the same email attachment as his lover. By the sounds of the grunts and groans coming from Ana’s phone, it was apparent to the ace-reporter what he was about to watch -- even if the occasional horse neighs were a little confusing. 

Within seconds of hitting play, the man’s jaw dropped wide open as he took in the content. 

“Holy shit, dude, Is that …?”

Ana's intrigued gaze tore from her phone screen and raised a brow at Donnie. “The King’s head guard dressed like a cowboy spanking Lucretia Nevrakis and licking another woman wearing a horse mask in a barn?” She shook her head. “Yes … and did you just call me ‘dude’?”

Ignoring her question, the couple resumed watching for a few more seconds, their facial expressions morphing from one of intrigue to utter disgust when finally Lucretia went full-frontal, nudity before the camera, then spreading wide for Bastien. “Oh, God! The hell?” Donnie grimaced as Ana slapped a hand over her mouth next to him and turned her head away. “I can’t watch this shit.” He lamented, quickly shutting his phone off.

After Ana followed suit and powered her cell off too, the pair sat in uncomfortable silence, simultaneously staring blankly at the same wall across from them, neither knowing what to say or think about what they had just watched together. Eventually, Ana lifted the satin sheet covering her waist up a little higher over her breast, a sense of sleaze and uncleanliness rooting itself and sprouting throughout her body. “I … I don’t know what part was worse: Mystery horsewoman with the guinea pig in Bastien or Lucretia’s wrinkled tramp-stamp with ‘Connie’ written inside what I can only assume is a dick.”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s be clear: there was no worse part. It was all worse! What the hell was that, anyway?”

The Trend editor just shook her head slowly with a glazed-over expression in her eyes; she finally spoke, “I … I think I’m going to go now.” 

“Ana! Don’t let this ruin our night.”

Her expression turned remorseful at his pleading; it had been a great night. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brine. I need to be alone.”

Neither one could look at the other. Ana slowly raised from the bed, gathering up her scattered clothes from the floor, tearing her bra from the doorknob, and then slipped on her heels. Why the Countess sent that video to them, she’d never know, but as she and Donnie exchanged a timid wave of goodbye, Ana left knowing she would never forgive Madeleine Amaranth for ruining the best night of sex she ever had.

This had to be some kind of bizarre and insane mistake.

And usually, Donnie Brine would call this “hard-hitting” new’s story into the station and scramble for the nearest camera to report on it. 

This was not something he would ever share with Cordonia, nor would the duo realize what they just watched was not the video the Countess intended to send them.

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

A baby. My baby. I’m going to be a father. Those words were all Liam could think about as he rode through the glittery neon boulevards of Las Vegas toward the hospital. At that moment, the clear blue heavens above him could open wide and strike him down with a bolt of thunder, and he’d swear he wouldn’t have felt a thing. The King was riding a wave of euphoria unlike anything he’d ever experienced; Riley loved him and was carrying his baby. Nothing in all the world mattered anymore.

Before taking off, it was clear that Bastien likely escaped during the brother’s brawl in the front yard of Riley’s home and apparently took the keys to the Escalade they arrived in with him. The neighborly Burt, who moments prior had a shotgun aimed at the royal duo, reluctantly agreed to drive into the city to drop them off at the hospital on his way to pick up his daughter on the east side of town. He gruffly mentioned, "my girl never learned not to kick her customers in the frank 'n' beans and steal their shit," but neither of the brothers paid much attention.

Riding in the back of a truck while sitting on a spare tire through sunny downtown Vegas wasn’t the way Liam intended to get there, but he was dead set on finding his Pussycat by any means necessary. And, of course, Leo called shotgun but was nice enough to offer his little brother the opportunity to “ride bitch”.

Liam unequivocally declined.

During the bumpy 25-minute ride to Valley Hospital, Liam wondered how it was possible to get everything he ever wanted in such a brief span of time. Literally, his entire heart's desires were being gifted to him one by one; it was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. All he ever wanted was to find happiness, a chance to love, and have a genuine family of his own -- Not an arrangement that would guarantee him a life of misery at worst or of mediocrity at best. When he stepped foot in Sin City several weeks ago, depressed and hopeless at the prospects of his impending marriage to Madeleine, never did he expect life and fate would throw him a twist in the tale. All it took was a weekend bachelor party, an awkwardly shy woman mistaking him for her Tinder date, and a ton of hard booze shared between them to change the entire trajectory of his life. 

Once the rusted-out truck came to a stop at the emergency entrance, Liam wasted no time climbing over the truck’s wooden rail sides and rushing through the revolving doors. Leo’s heavy footsteps could be heard racing behind him. 

Liam’s heart pounded as the seconds -- which seemed liked hours -- ticked by. Not since he was a young boy waiting on his mother to return from her trip in Auvernal had he been more excited to reunite with someone.

Escorted through the long, winding hallways by hospital security to the radiology department, Liam was led inside a room, where his breath instantly hitched at catching his first glimpse of Riley in two-and-a-half days.

Sitting at the foot of an exam table, dressed in a hospital gown, slender legs bare and swinging freely over the side, Riley’s head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. “Liam,” she whispered, relief dripping from her eyes before sliding off the table.

“Pussycat,” he breathed, unable to contain his emotions as she nearly sprinted the short distance between them and into his waiting arms. “I have missed you terribly, Love.”

Riley held onto him tightly, afraid to let go. “I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m so very sorry,” her strangled voice choked out. “I never should have listened to Madeleine.”

“Shhhh. You have nothing to be sorry about,” Liam assured, his hand threading and kneading through her bountiful hair comfortingly. “I watched the security footage, and I saw the way Madeleine confronted you. The way she grabbed you, the way she -- hurt you.” Liam’s face tightened before he kissed her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Riley answered meekly, “Because she threatened to release an old video of me being intimate during my first marriage. She told me if I didn’t leave, that video would get out and that it would look bad on you, and the council would likely strip you of your crown.” She squeezed him tighter. “I had to protect you.”

Liam looked down at his wife affectionately, placing both hands on the sides of her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears desperately clinging like morning dew to her eyes. “Sweetheart, look at me. The only thing you ever have to protect when it comes to me is my heart. I have guards -- although not the best -- to protect me physically. I have tradition and a birthright to protect my name and crown and a military to safeguard my country. But you, Riley ... you, have the power to destroy me. You’re the keeper of my heart. The one who makes it beat. Without your love to keep it going … well, let’s just say I  don’t ever want to know what that kind of pain would feel like.” They kissed once more as if it were their first and last one ever. 

Plucking out a blade of grass from his hair, Riley smiled brightly for the first time in days. “I’ll guard it with everything in me, Liam. I swear it.”

“You bet your sweet ass you will,” Liam smirked mischievously, grabbing a handful of her backside, causing her to belt out a laugh. “Besides, you took a drunken vow at the Graceland Wedding Chapel before Leo, Mongo, and Pinquee Kittee to love me tender, love me true; that’s about as sacred and binding of an oath as it gets.”

Riley chuckled. “I did. And we all know how those three are the greatest examples of loving and committed relationships.  Even if Mongo did try to steal you away from me.”

“Which worries me considering he’s apparently our ‘son.’” Liam said it tongue-in-cheek, but it instantly reminded him of the other reason he was in such a rush to get to his queen. The playfulness in his mannerisms tapered off, and he became more serious. Liam leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before working his way lower to the tip of her nose, her lips, and further to Riley’s chin. Slowly sinking to his knees, sliding his hands down her body until he had a firm grip on her slender hips, Liam rested his own forehead on Riley’s lower tummy.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“What’s that?” Riley asked softly.

Liam placed a lingering kiss onto the thin covering over her flat tummy and glanced up into her gleaming eyes, both filled with ceaseless wonder and rapture. “How you can love someone so much that you’ve never met.”

Riley blinked away a tear, her tiny fingers tracing feather-like trails through his hair. “I know, and yet somehow I’ve been asking myself that question since I met you.”

Liam’s eyes crinkled with a tender smile. “Me too.”

--------------------------------- 

Pacing languidly up and down the hallway outside the room where Liam and Riley were reuniting, Leo let out an exasperated huff before halting his steps to take a quick gander through the long glass window of the door. Leo smiled at watching his brother and sister-in-law embrace and seemed thrilled to be with one another again. And the prospects of -- in his mind -- becoming an uncle “again” was cool and all, but he was bored as hell. Liam was adamant about the former prince staying put and giving him this time needed to speak with Riley in private. Usually, Leo would pay no attention to what Liam asked of him, but maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to get serious and act like the adult he was. Read the room. Respect boundaries. Know when to quit.

Or maybe not.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he headed back in the direction that he and Liam had been led from moments ago, looking for something to kill time.  Strolling leisurely past a set of double doors that displayed “Emergency” in big red letters next to them, a thought suddenly struck, and he took two gliding steps backward. Leo lifted a speculative brow; there was something in the inner machination of his chaotic brain that told him to follow his gut, head inside, and he wouldn’t be sorry. Never one to ignore an instinct or impulse, Leo punched the large metallic button on the wall, causing one of the automatic doors to swing open. 

After stepping inside, he meandered around for a minute, not exactly sure what he was looking for but hoping he might catch a glimpse of a hot nurse walking around without a top on who would want to do naughty things to him. Or perhaps, a naked lady doctor with a nice ass who would manhandle him out of the emergency department, but who he’d eventually win over with his impeccable good looks and god-like sex appeal. He could pretend to be her patient, and if he were lucky, she’d have a bad bedside manner.

Passing a row of draped exam rooms, Leo noticed one curtain pulled open and a young brunette, with part of her thong showing, crouched on the floor, peeking stealthily through the blue drapery that divided the area from the patient on the opposite side.

Curious now to what this woman was so interested in from the next exam room, Leo crossed his arm and stared downward at the floor, lightly whistling a tune, as two doctors walked past him. When they rounded a corner, Leo edged closer to the curtain to listen in.

“Mr. Walker, do you feel any pain when I do this?”

“Ow! What the fuck do you think?” 

At hearing Drake’s irascible voice, Leo’s ears instantly shot up. “No way,” Leo mumbled in astonishment to himself. “Walker is here?” The last he knew, Drake was supposed to have headed back to Cordonia the day before. He leaned in closer.

“You pinched my dick with a pair of damn tweezers. Yeah, you could say there’s a little pain there. Shit!”

Leo clamped a fist over his mouth to keep from busting out. Of all the places his naughty gut had ever led him to, knowing Drake was here and having transplanted dick problems may have been in his top 100 --Nothing would ever beat running with the bulls in Barcelona with Kanye and a very stoned Prince Charles. Leo smiled fondly at the memory before shaking his head and getting back to business.

“We’re just making sure you have feeling in your penis, Mr. Walker.”

“Then touch it with a fucking finger. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you people? You wanna take a jackhammer to my knees next and see if they feel pain too?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Leo overheard the doctor tell Drake. “I expect you’re going to be fine, Mr. Walker. I didn’t see any major discoloration aside from a deep bluish hue to your testicles --” Leo snorted out loudly, causing the doctor to turn his head briefly to the disruption outside the curtain, before clearing his throat and continuing, “A hearty ejaculation or two should clear that right up. When was the last time you --”

“I’ll take care of it,” Drake hastily interrupted in a peevish tone, not wanting the physician to finish the question.

“Very well then. You should be fine. I’ll have the nurse get your discharge papers together, and you can be on your way … And, sir ... try to avoid getting ninja smacked by hookers in the future.”

“I’ll see what I can do …. asshole.” Drake snarled under his breath.

Feeling spunky, an impish grin crossed Leo’s lips as he strolled away undetected from Drake’s doctor leaving his room. “The Drakesters not going anywhere just yet,” he snickered, heading toward a cart with blue scrubs that he passed earlier. “Paging Dr.Wolfshitz to trauma room one. Stat.”

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

Still peeking inconspicuously into the next exam room, Alyssa’s gaze followed Drake’s doctor and a nurse as they exited to work on his discharge. She remained motionless and quiet, barely breathing, fearful she’d get caught. Why she hadn’t looked away yet was beyond her. What was only supposed to be a little looksie at the man, to quench her gnawing intrigue over what was below his belt, had now left her drawn to him.

And while Alyssa saw for herself that everything was normal down there, -- humungous, actually -- it was the sadness and hurt in his deep chocolate eyes that kept the perky, petite woman in spy mode. 

“You can stop hiding behind that curtain, Riley’s friend,” Drake grumbled.

“Eep!” Alyssa yelped at being caught and took a quick step back, nearly toppling clumsily over her feet. He couldn’t have been talking about her. He wasn’t even looking in her direction when he said it. She had been so careful to remain hidden. But who the hell else could he be talking to? Alyssa held her breath, hoping another one of Riley’s friends was hidden on the other side.

“I saw your little beady eyes watching me. Might as well come out from behind that curtain and laugh in my face … you wouldn’t be the first one.”

There were no doubts he was talking about her now. Frozen in panic and unable to move, Alyssa’s cheeks burned, and her heart raced at getting called out. She wondered why she couldn’t have just left well enough alone. If curiosity killed the cat, Alyssa just spent all nine of her lives.

“That’s how it's gonna be, huh?” Drake called out to her again in a snarky tone, yet Alyssa didn’t dare move. “That’s fine. I know I’m just a big joke to everyone now.” He lowered his voice just slightly in self-pity. “Maybe in some ways, I always have been.”

That stung. Alyssa couldn’t discern whether he was actually upset with her about snooping on him -- he probably was -- or as the nagging feeling in her gut was telling her: he just needed a friend. Taking in a deep breath, she skittishly slipped the curtain aside, avoiding eye contact and forcing only a diffident smile. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

He smiled back. “I’m not. I’m Drake.”

---------

With Riley discovering she was pregnant, the E.R. attending opted to forego continuing with the ordered x-rays, believing she had nothing more than a bruised tailbone from her fall, anyway. With the pain she experienced since the encounter with Madeleine, the doctor wanted her to have an ultrasound to ensure everything was fine with the baby and date the pregnancy.

Riley laid back on the exam table, feet planted and legs separated. A technician gingerly moved around an ultrasound probe under the sheet draped from her waist to her bent up knees. Riley and Liam vigilantly watched the screen, anxiously waiting for the black-and-white image to produce the first glimpse of their baby.

Flashing a timid smile, Riley glanced up at Liam, who was hovering over her with his eyes transfixed on the screen. Noticing her unsure look, he leaned down and whispered, “Everything okay, love?”

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and answered meagerly with all seriousness, “What if … what if our baby has a beard, Liam?”

The bewildered king puckered his forehead, unsure what to say. “Wh--why would the baby have a beard, pussycat?” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before she yanked it away and covered her eyes in embarrassment.

She sucked in an unsteady breath, impervious to the prodding continuing below. “Because my Aunt Clem’s firstborn came out with a tiny goatee like that munchkin from the Lollipop Guild,” she began to whimper in increasing frustration, plucking at the tip of her chin.

Liam’s eyes widened as he blew out a huff of air. “Then … I suppose … we’ll stick him in a carnival or something.” He chuckled despite himself. “Or get him one of those top hats and a cane.”

“It was a girrrrrrl,” Riley cried out, covering her face again. “My dad’s family is from Kentucky … there’s gotta be inbreeding somewhere in the past. Our baby will come out looking like a mini Chewbacca, and it’s all my fault. Oh god! What have I done to our child?” She sniffled through her rant, “If you want a divorce, I’ll understand.”

Normally able to keep a stoic demeanor in any kind of situation, Liam just couldn’t do it in this instance. He turned his face away to prevent his wife from seeing the giant smirk on his face and to take a moment to regain his composure from wanting to bust out at her theatrics. He didn’t know what the hell he married into or why this woman he loved so much all of a sudden had forgotten she was adopted. 

It would be an interesting nine months.

Riley frowned with a simper, “You can’t even look at me. I’ll have to raise this little hairball all by myself. They’ll have us in the ‘weird things’ section of the National Enquirer next to Drake.”

She was correct: he couldn’t look at her -- she was being completely ridiculous. Liam’s shoulders bounced against his stifled laughter. “Dear God, Riley. You’ve got to stop.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

Unaware of the pair of eyes at the foot of the exam table, glaring between the couple in absolute confusion, the technician performing the scan cleared her throat to break the tension. “I hate to interrupt … this.” She nodded between the two.”But, here’s your baby.” She tapped her fingertip on the screen to a small oblong shape on the monitor with a tiny white form in the center. Riley lowered her hands from her teary face and whipped her head around at the same time Liam did, both wholly captivated. “It’s too early to tell if there is a … goatee. But this little flicker right here --” She pointed out. “-- Is where the heart is beating.”

Feeling his wife’s hand grip his tighter, Liam stood motionless for a moment as he watched the tech pause the screen to get measurements before sucking in his lips and dropping his head onto Riley’s shoulder. “Did you see the heart beating, my love? That’s our baby. Our perfect baby.”

Blinking back a tear of joy, Riley turned her head toward her shoulder to meet Liam’s adoring eyes. “Thank you for not covering your lizard.”

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

Blushing from head to toe in guilt and embarrassment, Alyssa took a step inside of Drake’s room, letting the curtain fall back behind her. Twirling a section of hair around her finger, she continued to apologize, feeling it was the right thing to do. “Again, I’m really sorry, Mr. Walker --”

“I told you my name is Drake. Mr. Walker was my father’s name. Please, just call me Drake,” he insisted in a softer tone that took the awkward-feeling Alyssa by surprise.

“Drake,” she repeated as she picked at the cuticle of her thumbnail, “I shouldn’t have been watching you, and I know I invaded your privacy. I swear, in spite of what this looks like, I’m not some creeper. I just thought … “ Alyssa looked away bashfully, twisting on her feet. “you’re really handsome.” It was true, even if she knew damn well that’s not why she peeked in at him.

Drake cocked a brow, calling her bluff. “Really?” he replied skeptically. ”That’s the only thing you were looking at?”

Dabbing at her increasingly perspiring forehead and feeling the blood drain into her feet, Alyssa declared, “I think I’m going to pass out now.”

Sensing she was serious, Drake quickly tapped the rolling chair next to his bed and insisted she sit down. Walking on wobbly legs, Alyssa finally plopped down on the chair and fanned her ashen face with one hand. Drake quickly twisted the cap off an unopened bottle of cold water one of the nurses had given him and offered it to Alyssa. She gratefully took it and guzzled a giant swig from the plastic container. Soon her breathing normalized, and the color in her face started to pinken again.

Drake stared at her in concern. “Do you want me to yell for the doctor?”

Alyssa shook her head insistently. “No. I’m better now. I just got a little anxious, is all, but I deserved it. I shouldn’t have looked at you.” She paused for a moment before offering a genuine smile. “By the way: I don’t think you’re a joke, and I would never laugh at you. I really do think you’re handsome.”

He could tell what she was saying to him was true, and for the first time in weeks, it felt nice to have someone to talk to who didn’t want to discuss a certain medical procedure he’d recently undergone. “I appreciate that … Alyssa, right?” She nodded her head. “You have beautiful eyes --”

“I hate to interrupt this party, -- ay,” A doctor in blue scrubs, a surgical cap, mask, and a horrible Canadian accent came strolling in gleefully, almost out of nowhere. “It’s time for your surgery, Mr. Walkersan -- ay.”

Drake shot straight up in his bed, glaring at the man. “What?” he screeched. “I’m getting discharged. That other doctor said I was fine.”

“Oh no, no, no -- ay. Doctor … Pepper … Stein, sent me down here to wheel you at once into surgery. Your test results showed a lot of icky stuff that needs to be taken care of at once lest you lose your manhood again. Ay.”

Narrowing his eyes, Drake shot back. “What bad stuff?”

“Uh, let me see here -- ay,” Leo began flipping through a makeshift chart he was holding in his hands and pretending to scan over a particular page. “Oy me. There seems to be … algae overgrowth in the upper ... sphincter of the … Dua Lipa -- ay. And thees muy crabs have set up a colony on the Los ballsackos.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Drake asked incredulously while Alyssa patted his arm comfortingly. “What the hell is a Los ballsackos?”

“Es los ballsackos is los ballsackos.” Leo hastily scolded as he eyed Drake sternly. “We shan't have no time to waste. Das ist Viener schloggin … we remove the viewer and then the scloggin or there be little la cucarachas crawling everywhere -- la vie en rose, amigo.”

“No one’s removing my viener, or my scloggin!” Drake protested.

“Excuse me,” Alyssa rose to her feet, knowing there was something off with this sketchy acting doctor. “I speak fluent Spanish and French, and I can tell you, almost none of that made sense. Not to mention the fact that I believe part of that was German and ancient English. ¿De dónde sacaste tu título, doctor?”

Leo’s bright blue eyes dulled with uncertainty as Alyssa crossed her arms, awaiting a response. Scrambling for an answer and wishing he’d paid more attention during his language lessons, he ultimately replied with a shirk, “Eh … Despacito?”

“Despacito?” Alyssa challenged before glancing over at Drake, who was still glaring a hole into the perceived physician, then returning her gaze back to a cow-eyed Leo. “Who are you, really?”

"Who am I really?" Leo replied with a smug grin as he lowered the surgical mask that was hiding his face. "I'm Dr. Wolfschitz, baby."

[brokenthimbles]

the power of love

(Cont) @lovepoweredspeed

At first Barry hadn't understood why he had been taken. Why would anyone take him, he was just an annoying teenage boy. The kidnappers soon told him why, his connection to the Waynes. They wanted to know stuff, some stuff he had no clue about, others he didn't. He thought he heard something about ransom too, but he wasn't sure. Barry wasn't even sure how long he'd been there, it all blurred together eventually, even the pain went from excruciating to dull and then back to excruciating again. He really didn't mean to tell them anything, but eventually he couldn't take more and he gave them the info he could: the layout of the mansion, the security there and anything he knew about the security for W.E. main building. He had cried the entire time, knowing he had failed the family that treated him so well.

What Barry didn't take into consideration was that he at the age of fourteen had taken more pain than most adults could handle, having learnt early how to just escape in his own mind. The beatings, the cigarette burns, the hunger, the thirst, he had withstood it all. He'd just escaped to his safe space. What had finally made him break was when they tried to drown him by showing his head into a bucket. It was hard to escape anywhere when your face was in cold water.

He wasn't really sure what happened after he'd told them what he could, he thought he was knocked out and moved because one minute he was in the room they had kept him in, the next he woke up in another room and the door was open. Barry tried to get up, tried to walk, then to crawl, getting himself free, he needed to warn them. To tell them what he'd done, but before he could reach the door, darkness claimed him again.

The next time he woke up, someone called for him, a voice he recognized. It made him cry again. "W-Wendy... 'm sorry... I-I told 'em everything... sorry... s-sorry." Adopted or not, they were definitely kicking him out now.

It had been a week that her son had been missing. Adopted or not Barry was now her son, and this mama bear was going to defend him with the full power of Wayne enterprises and her fortune and her former military head of security. If it was one thing that she knew how to do was to organize to get results. Though she was pissed that it had taken a full week to find him, and get those responsible in jail.

She had stayed by his bed side from the moment he’d been admitted. It took her all of five minutes to overrule the hospitals board and ICU rules given her status as the main shareholder and history as a nurse to be allowed in though they were hesitant. It took even less to strong arm a copy of his chart. 

Bruises, contusions, pneumonia, cigarette burns, malnutrition, dehydration. These were all signs she’d seen when she was treating prisoners of war. It made her blood burn with rage, as if fire was being supplied to every inch of her body with every beat of her heart. Alfred was dealing with the police, the investigation, and punishing those responsible but Wendy? Wendy needed to protect her son. 

“I’m here..... I’m here now....” she kept whispering until he cried and apologized to her for saying something. “Shhhh...” she tried to calm him down, to relax to realize he had nothing to be sorry for. “I’m the one whose sorry....” she countered. “I didn’t protect my son....” Wendy ran her hand through his hair softly, gently, the touch of a mother. “I should’ve protected you.” 

[feralnumberfive]

The Rewatch Academy: Episode 6 of Season 1

“The Day That Wasn’t”

I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it’s funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

| 1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04 | 1x05 |

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

☂ Klaus is lucky that he never got the briefcase shot up

☂ *Hears Klaus flush the toilet and talk* Luther: Oh good, you’re up

☂ Also Luther gave Klaus about two seconds to get up before hounding him again on getting downstairs

☂ Sounds like Tom’s accent slipped a little bit when he said “three days”

☂ Yeah they needed to have a family meeting right away and yet they took the time to go get coffee or at least order it and have it delivered

☂ “Old bastard” and “Our little psycho” 

☂ I still don’t get at this point how they wouldn’t believe Five. Look at him, he himself is evidence of his time traveling! He was gone for 45 years, but to them it was only 17. Either way they try to grasp at that, Five would look older if he made it back without messing up. He knew about their father’s death without anyone telling him. I really think all the mistrust comes from the way he looks and the way he acts (they obviously believe he’s just crazy right now)

☂ “What did Five even see?”

☂ Also throw back to 1x02 and I didn’t realized this until now but Five doesn’t have his tie

☂ I know it’s for the title card gag but no one questions the random umbrella falling and popping open

☂ I aspire to be as sarcastic as Hazel

☂ So where exactly is The Commission HQ at? Is it a random location in the real world? If so then wouldn’t normal people happen to stumble upon it? What about their location in space in the comics? Is this in space?? All we know is that it’s in/based off of the year 1955

☂ “I’d like to discuss the logistics of my family’s safety at your earliest convenience.” He cuts right to what’s most important to him. No “How will you stop the apocalypse?” or “What’s my job?” and even “How will my body replacement work?”

☂ Five sounds almost like he’s snapped back into a work mindset. He's suddenly polite and calm with The Handler. Maybe being back in a work environment has made his brain automatically switch into being more professional. However he might also be acting this way to try to throw her off of him being antsy with a plan

☂ Here's some Commission posters shown throughout 1x06

☂ One of us, one of us, one of us-

☂ So basically The Commission makes up history? How do they know what to do and when to make something happen? How do they know it’s right? And what’s The Commission supposed to do when the world ends? Haven't they already fixed stuff in the past or are there just continuous time loops so they need to make sure things happen over and over again? If multiple historical events happen with multiple ways they are made, then which one gets to be in the original timeline??

☂ Dot: No hard feelings! 😁

Ma’am does it look like he’s going to accept that

☂ Wait why are Hazel and Cha-Cha considered the best Temporal Assassins if Five was/is the best?

☂ Well Five has the job of taking down the Hindenburg again but this time from behind a desk. So it’s possible to accomplish “corrections” without actually having assassins do the work. So I guess there’s just so many timelines that they need to fix every single one of them over and over? That sounds like a pain in the ass

☂ TUA portraits!

☂ Y’know I have to agree with Allison on this one. Vanya was left out, however she’s offering to talk with her about the important family matter and Vanya is just denying it. I get she’s upset, but her sister is offering to include her. After Vanya leaves Allison immediately wants to go after her to talk with her. On the other hand Allison should have told her it was an emergency meeting and that they didn’t have the time to ask Vanya to join them

☂ Klaus seems genuinely concerned/upset for Vanya

☂ “We need to figure out what causes the apocalypse. Now, there are loads of possibilities. Nuclear war, asteroids.” Wow spot on, Luther! I can’t believe they actually included foreshadowing for both apocalypses (even though technically it was a chunk of the moon, not an asteroid.) I wonder how much foreshadowing for S3 was put into S2.......

☂ I know it’s big joke about Luther and the moon, but the poor guy just really believes that he was on the moon for an important reason. I mean if I were in his shoes I would believe him too since he had to send a lot of daily updates and samples

☂ “Klaus shockingly has a point. What gives us a win this time?” Shhhh careful Diego, he’s right behind you

☂ Luther is initially the only one onboard with Five on trying to stop the apocalypse. All the others want to go off and do their own thing before the world ends. He tries to get The Umbrella Academy back together to work as a team, but his leadership skills are now severely lacking. Do people *cough cough* mainly people who hate him *cough cough* overlook Luther wanting to also get his family together to stop the apocalypse with his family? Definitely. 

☂ “We need the full force of the Academy to stand a chance.” Well golly gee, Allison, what did did Luther just try to do? Was that not him trying to round up all of The Umbrella Academy to stop the apocalypse? 

☂ Even though Vanya is ranting, how does she not hear all the creaking metal and shaking cars?

☂ *it’s sunny around them but just the block they’re walking on is rainy until she calms down* “ThAt’S a CoInCiDeNcE.” 

☂ The hall floor and Diego’s floor are so dusty

☂ It’s sweet that Diego wants Klaus to get clean in a safe way instead of going cold turkey 

☂ Dot, what does “utter silence” mean to you?

☂ “Look at you, deadly little thing.” You’re not wrong, but I don’t think he appreciates being called “thing”

☂ Such a smug smile

☂ So how does Five know all of this about Karl and his son? Does it talk about Otto never washing his hands in the file? That seems like an oddly specific detail but I guess in a case file it gives as many details as possible for the worker to figure out who needs to get assassinated

☂ There are a few cog references all relating to The Commission, so I wonder if this is a nod to “Teenagers” or if they’re just using this terminology

☂ Odd tattoos (sorry for the super blurry pic)

☂ “Can I ask you a cuckoo bananas question?” Hazel is such a fun guy

☂ “Wouldn’t it be nice to kill who you want for a change?” You mean like straight up unhinged murder? 

☂ The first time I watched this Hazel and Cha-Cha scene I for sure thought that Hazel was a dead man

☂ This scene just absolutely breaks my heart 💔

☂ *skips 25:24-27:42*

☂ Diego is just so accepting to everything Klaus is saying

☂ I’m sorry, are we suddenly on the set of The Phantom of the Opera?

☂ Diego, I think you’re forgetting a very important person in your life who you let down too who is also dead......(poor Ben can’t believe what his brother just said so he leaves)

☂ “Ordinary is not a word I’d use to describe you.” You’re right, it’s “Extra Ordinary” ha! Sorry Vanya, I had to use that joke

☂ Well at least we know Five ate a sandwich 

☂ How exciting! The same division that made a simple candy taste like a candy from the past, but technically it’s not the past since The Commission HQ is based in 1955, is building a human body! That sounds so promising 

☂ Sooooo whatever happened to Five’s new body? Is it just sitting in a lab somewhere?? Or is The Handler just lying about it to try to get Five to stay at The Commission?

☂ With the amount of time Five was staring at the suit, it obviously hurt him to know that while he has a new body within reach, he’s not going to get it because he’s about to leave

☂ “Course it’s a bit easier to see from 30,000 feet.” What is she talking about Reconnaissance aircraft? There was no mention of aircraft though so why would she bring that up? My closest guess is that she’s referring to strategic bombing in general, or even the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki

☂ It sounds like Five suddenly has a New York accent when he says “operator” when talking to The Handler about Gloria

☂ Fuck you, Veggie Tales Hargreeves

☂ *skips 36:47-39:48*

☂ Well there’s your hit, Klaus

☂ I love the camera moving with Klaus as he falls and the transition into Vietnam

☂ “Lock and load, Charlie’s away!” Wikipedia’s definition of a “Charlie” is  an American military slang referring to the Viiet Cong and North Vietnamese soldiers

☂ Klaus desperately calling out for a medic hurts my heart

☂ Well Luther if you had left then your body wouldn’t be the way it is now

☂ *fucking skips 45:41-50:00* 

☂ Ooooh I just really love the entirety of the “Kill Of The Night” scene! If you listen to the lyrics it’s about someone luring someone into a trap to get revenge because they messed with the wrong person (it’s also about love but we’re going to ignore that part). I personally believe it’s aimed at The Commission from Five because the entire time it plays he’s messing things up for them and in some way it’s like a little bit of revenge from him

☂ Why is Gloria confused on who Hazel and Cha-Cha are? Hasn’t she heard their names a ton of times especially since they’re some of the best assassins?

☂ How did Five know which tubes to put the messages in? 

☂ You can see at this part how Five immediately gets anxious and antsy. He has a wild look in his eyes. From this point onwards he’s constantly moving, shaking with energy, anticipation, and probably a little bit of anger

☂ “You’re a great disappointment to me.” That’s definitely not the first time he’s heard that

☂ “I don’t belong anywhere thanks to you. You made me a killer!” The first part of that stings. Obviously he feels like he doesn’t belong anywhere, but again I think has to do with the whole “good” and “bad” thing that’s going on. He feels like he doesn’t belong at home because he’s “bad” and has done a lot of dark stuff to get home (it doesn’t help that Luther voiced his acknowledgment of this  to Five and now he has that in his mind that Luther knows and somewhat views him as “bad”). Five 100% feels shame in what he has done, and definitely has an issue of coming back to his family with blood on his hands form what he has done. He doesn’t belong in The Commission anymore because he doesn’t want to stay there to do their dirty work to kill or give out kill orders. He’s done with that or at least wants to be done with that life.

The last statement though is Five taking his anger and guilt about being becoming an assassin out on The Handler. She brought him into The Commission, which in turn he became the best assassin across The Space-Time Continuum. It’s not something he’s proud of, and he never enjoyed killing (as much as I want it to be the DNA alteration I just don’t think it exists in the show or at least not yet). However The Handler replies with “You were always a killer. I just pointed you in a direction.” which you can immediately tell has struck a chord with Five. For the briefest second he looks taken aback and his eyes ever so slightly open wider in shock, whether he took that as the truth or just a terrible accusation isn’t exactly clear. Either way he doesn’t like being accused or hearing the truth out loud of always being able to be murderous, a killer. 

I believe it’s a mixture of The Handler just trying to get into his head and a combination of the truth. Reginald trained The Umbrella Academy to use brute force, but that doesn’t mean Five had killed anyone but he was definitely violent when it came to stopping bad guys (not to mention in the pilot script he was called a “Ruthless little war machine” after violently attacking and decapitating a bunch of mannequins)

☂ Diego: I’m going to go kill Hazel and Cha-Cha!........Riiiiight after I get done walking with my mom in the park

☂ He’s so happy to see Klaus again 

☂ ✨Gremlin✨

☂ Who exactly does Five owe a debt to? Maybe his family after accidentally leaving them and now he wants to save them? Or is it a singular person?  

☂ Ouch! Now that’s what I call a problem later!

☂ 

☂ Five using “Ya’ll” is weird to hear

☂ Five is talking to his siblings like he knows what’s been happening but in reality he’s rarely been at home so how would he know

☂ I love that Five doesn't even answer Diego at the end and instead just stares at his siblings 

☂☂☂☂☂☂☂

Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!

[bard-llama]

Belated Start of Mini Kinktober Week!

So the @witcherkinktober​ provided the great prompts for this week and then I completely and absolutely forgot about it lol. So I don’t have finished fics for yesterday or today, but I will share a snip from each and if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll finish one for tomorrow!

So, my plan was to write 1 rorveth and 1 throne3 fill per day, but uh... that’s not seeming likely. So instead, have snips (more like my entire WiPs shhhh) from 2 throne3 fills + 1 rorveth fill under the cut!

10/3 - Collars | Gags | Hypnosis/Mind Control Warnings for homophobia-induced painful backstory and chronic pain

Unfortunately, no porn here, because I got too caught up in the explanation of how they got here again 😭😭😭 But Reynard got drugged with a truth/babbling potion. That counts as mind control, right? 😅

If there was one thing everyone knew about General Reynard Odo, it was that he kept his thoughts to himself and carefully chose every word he said.

Which is why Gascon knew immediately that something was wrong, because Reynard was surrounded by soldiers and waving his hands in a surprisingly uncoordinated way and, most significantly, openly shittalking people.

“Fuckin’ Reggie,” Reynard slurred, which set off about a billion alarm bells in Gascon’s head, because what the fuck!? First off, Reynard didn’t swear. Certainly not in front of his soldiers. He was meticulous about that kind of thing. Propriety mattered to Reynard and being proper in front of his men even moreso.

Secondly, nicknames and Reynard did not mix. Well, technically, Gascon was always giving Reynard new insultingly affectionate nicknames, but Reynard himself? Gascon had never heard Reynard shorten a name ever. Even the really long ones! Even the ones that everyone else used! Hell, there was one of Meve’s guards who even she called by their nickname. But Reynard? Never. It was always Lieutenant Razzah Ozzell, never Razzell like the rest of them.

Thirdly, who the fuck was Reggie?

“He was a right prick,” Reynard continued, snorting at his own words. “Didn’t know a damn thing about the military. I mean, he was always getting people’s ranks wrong, and who’s gonna correct him? He’s the fucking king!”

Gascon’s face blanched. Reggie as in King Reginald as in Meve’s late husband?

Yeah, he needed to make sure Reynard stopped speaking immediately. Whatever was wrong with him, clearly the General’s extensive control could not be relied upon at the moment, so Gascon would just have to have enough control for the two of them.

Nodding to himself, he wove his way expertly through tangles of soldiers and slipped his arm around Reynard’s, pulling the General up and pushing him towards the edge of camp. The soldiers groaned in protest, but Gascon ignored them, more concerned with the way Reynard was both still talking and did not seem at all bothered by Gascon’s grasp on his arm.

Only once they were a decent distance from camp did Gascon let go and whirl around to demand what the fuck was going on.

“What the fuck, Reynard?” he hissed. “What is wrong with you!? Why would you openly shit talk the King!?”

Reynard’s pupils were wide as the General snorted, “I didn’t even share the worst shit!”

“And it should probably stay that way,” Gascon spoke over him. “Seriously, what is wrong with you!?”

Tilting his head, Reynard leaned too far to the right and flailed for balance. Gascon was officially unnerved. Where the hell was the close mouthed and tight-lipped General Odo?

“I feel fine,” Reynard shrugged. “I don’t even hurt!”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you’re probably high as a kite on something. What did you eat? Drink?”

“Mmm, jus’ the ale. They’re – hic – they’re always inviting me, you know. To drink with them.”

“Yeah,” Gascon said uncertainly, brow furrowing, “you always say no.”

Reynard sighed, slumping as though all his energy had abandoned him. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They already have to put up with me all day. ‘M not gonna be so selfish as to ruin everyone’s time.” His lips twitched, “I’m Lyria and Rivia’s profesh – profess – pro-fesh-shen-al wet blanket, remember?”

Gascon winced. He hadn’t realized that jab had stayed with Reynard like this, but even worse was that Reynard seemed to think it was true.

“I was being an asshole,” Gascon protested. “You’re not a wet blanket. You’re – I mean, you’re very stoic and uptight and stuff, but like, that’s not always a bad thing! If you want to drink with your soldiers, you should!”

The laughter that fell from Reynard’s lips was haunting. “No one truly wants me there. It’s better to keep from intruding.”

Something about that made Gascon’s heart hurt, but he swallowed hard, refocusing. “Reynard, there must’ve been something in the ale you drank, ‘cause you may feel fine, but you are definitely not. Honestly, when you sober up, you’re probably gonna hate that you told me any of this.”

Reynard hummed, nodding in small movements. “Hate being sober. Hurts too much.”

Gascon blinked. “Wait, really? But you practically never have more than a single ale!”

“Of courshe,” Reynard wiggled his jaw like that would make his lips form the right shapes. “I have a resp – responc – re – ah, fuck it. Duty. I have a duty to Her Majesty.”

“Yeah, but – wait, why does it hurt?”

Snorting again, Reynard shrugged. “It always does. Though, not right now. Like, I can do this!” He shrugged his shoulders once more, seemingly engrossed in the miraculousness of basic movement.

“Can you… not usually shrug?” Gascon tilted his head, considering that. Had he ever actually seen Reynard shrug?

Reynard shook his head emphatically enough to make himself stumble for balance again. “Pulls on my back.”

Gascon’s brow furrowed. “Your… back? I don’t remember you having any particular back injury?”

Snorting through his nose, Reynard hummed. “Wasn’t an injury in battle. Nothing so honorable by far.”

More confused than ever, Gascon opened his mouth to say something, but Reynard didn’t seem to notice and talked over him instead.

“Fuckin’ Reggie,” Reynard muttered again, digging the toe of his boot into the ground.

“Reginald… hurt you?” Gascon asked cautiously. Usually Reynard was the first to insist that no one speak out against their rulers, past or present.

My vague thoughts were that somehow Reynard ends up dirty talking to Gascon on accident ‘cause he can’t shut up, so Gascon gags him? Aaaaand... idk how the collar comes in, but I like making life difficult for myself, so I wanna try to include all 3 prompts.

(throne3) 10/4 - Overstimulation | Monsters | Temperature Play Warnings for monsterfucking, rough sex, and serious size kink

“Troll want mate!” the massive rock troll declared.

Having been sent out scouting near the base of the mountain, General Reynard Odo found himself regretting having chosen to explore this cave. 

“Reynard,” he said loudly, pressing a hand to his chest, “wants to leave.”

“No leave!” One humongous fist smashed into the ground far too close to Reynard for comfort. “Want find mate!”

“You… want help finding a mate?” Reynard repeated uncertainly. Where the hell was he supposed to find a mate for a troll!?

The troll nodded emphatically with a sound like rocks scrapping together. “Us need mate! ReyRey help find!”

Reynard winced at the atrocious nickname, then frowned. What did the troll mean ‘us’?

As he watched, the rock formations behind the troll materialized into more trolls. A lot more trolls.

“Uh,” he started, “why do you think I can find you a mate?”

“Humie no come here before!” the first troll he’d spoken to said cheerily. “You be special!”

Well. That was encouraging. “Where would I find you a mate?”

“If we knew, we no ask!” Another troll huffed. “Is season! Must mate! But where mate?”

His frown deepened. “So you don’t need a mate as in a life-partner, but more… uh, for one-time use, so to speak?”

The trolls hummed and groaned, looking at each other in confusion. “What humie mean?”

“Uh… I guess that you,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably, “you need to physically mate with someone. Urgently. Yes?”

“Urgent, urgent, yes!” One troll waved its leg up and down and Reynard’s brow furrowed in confusion. Except then the troll wrapped its hand around the leg and Reynard realized that it wasn’t a leg at all. “Need mate soon!” the troll said, stroking the massive cock that hung between its legs.

“I don’t know where to find you a mate,” Reynard said. “And I have urgent business I must conduct for my queen–”

The first troll he’d talked to cut him off with a low grunt, hands punching into the ground. “Need mate now!”

“ReyRey,” another troll – he really couldn’t tell them apart beyond size, but this one was a little smaller than the others, and troll dicks must have been retractible, because this one didn’t have a huge limb hanging between its legs. But there was the start of something peeking out where the troll’s underbelly met its legs.

Reynard found himself oddly entranced, watching the troll’s cock slowly protrude and grow larger and larger until it was around the length and width of Reynard’s entire forearm. If these things were proportional to the troll’s size, then this was the smallest one.

He swallowed, unsure why his mouth was watering, but he still couldn’t look away and the smaller troll grinned.

“ReyRey want mate?” it offered. 

Choking, Reynard flushed scarlet and shook his head. “I – no! We aren’t – aren’t compatible. You’d break me!”

Why did thinking that send a shiver of interest down his spine. These were trolls! He was absolutely not mating with trolls!

Except when he finally managed to look away from the smaller troll’s cock, his eyes got stuck on the one beside it, their cock slightly bigger than the other troll’s. 

“ReyRey want be broken,” the smaller troll said confidently. “ReyRey get hard like troll!” So saying, the troll reached out and poked Reynard’s pelvis where, to his great shame, his cock was getting hard.

“I–” he fumbled for words. Surely this was not going to happen. It couldn’t happen! What would his men think of him, getting railed by a rock troll!? By several rock trolls!?

It was ridiculous that this question should even be raised! Of course he wasn’t going to let himself get fucked by a bunch of trolls. He couldn’t!

So why did he kind of want to? Why was he thinking about what it would feel like, getting stretched so wide. And deep! These trolls were huge, and that should make him scared, but instead, he was… kind of getting excited.

Gods, what was wrong with him? He was – he was genuinely considering mating with a troll! That was most definitely not normal or in any way appropriate.

But… who would know? He’d only left camp about half an hour ago, so they wouldn’t expect him back for several hours yet. And it wasn’t as if he would ever tell anyone just what he was contemplating doing. So really, who would ever find out? 

And it had been so long since Reynard had last been fucked. He would – he would have to prepare himself thoroughly before even considering taking the trolls, but…

He really actually wanted to do this.

Biting his lip and shifting his weight, Reynard looked around the cavern. “What,” his voice cracked and he coughed, trying again, “what exactly would it mean? To – to be your mate?”

The trolls let out excited hums and rumbles and the smaller troll grinned at him. “ReyRey look good on cock,” it said brightly. “We mate. Means ReyRey takes pearls.”

“Pearls?” his brow furrowed. Was that a euphemism for ejaculate?

“Lil trolls,” the troll nodded, “pearls. ReyRey say yes?”

“I…” Reynard swallowed and for once in his life, let himself do the improper thing. “I’ll need stretching first.”

“Trolls help!” the smaller one said enthusiastically. “ReyRey take off metal shell? No good for mating.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat, and even though part of his mind was screaming in horror, he actually did start to pick at the buckles on his armor. “Uh. We’re gonna need something slick. To – to open me up,” he blushed. 

“We slick ReyRey!” one troll proclaimed loudly and as soon as Reynard’s armor was removed, they grabbed him, manhandling him with an ease that made his heart beat fast. Then, before he really knew what was happening, they bent him in half and something long and wet was prodding at his ass as stone-encrusted fingers held him open.

He yelped in surprise – and then moaned as the troll’s tongue pushed into him with no warning, thrusting deep and wiggling inside him the way nothing ever had before. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped, gripping his own ankles tightly. He hadn’t even realized he could bend down so far, but with the trolls holding him, it was somehow easier than anything to just let himself go and let them have what they wanted of him.

“Me turn!” another troll grumbled and Reynard suddenly found himself empty and moving, until a different tongue thrust deep into him, fucking him rapidly.

He couldn’t help his whine, cock already very interested. And folded in half and angled down like he was, when his cock leaked, it dripped down onto his face in a way that made him feel both embarrassed and horrifically turned on. 

“Oh fuck, please!” he heard himself beg before he’d consciously decided to.

“Good humie,” a troll praised before something larger prodded at his hole next to the tongue rocking into him. “ReyRey take troll like meant for it.”

Reynard shuddered, the praise making his face warm as it flushed red.

Should I tell you where the story is going next? ‘cause it decided to get long, dammit, so who knows when I’ll finish it. So I guess if you don’t wanna know, then spoiler warning Additional warnings for breeding kink, oviposition, extreme oversensitivity, and extremely bad attempts at acting casual

Okay, so this was supposed to be some basic monsterfucking, but instead, romance had to happen lmao. So Reynard gets fucked by troll after troll and he discovers that unlike his assumption, “pearls” was not a euphemism, but literally trolls laying ‘eggs’. Each one gives him about two dozen pearls, so he’s huge and hella sensitive and just kinda losing his mind. But that kinda fucking takes time, which means Meve and Gascon are worrying over where their crush general is. They’re not together yet in this, but I think all three of them kinda recognize that, were the world different, they could have something special together.

Anyway, Meve and Gascon go searching for him and find him in the cave getting fucked by trolls. And they’re about ready to go charging in and cutting off heads of all sorts when Reynard begs for more. So then they’re confused and far too intrigued and they watch Reynard take another twenty pearls and he moans orgasmically and unlike Reynard, Gascon is not known for his self-control. So he darts out and gets his mouth on Reynard’s cock, making Reynard shout. Then Meve comes out and Reynard is freaking the fuck out and the trolls have all kinda frozen (and no, no one is distracted by the way cum drips out of his stretched out hole) and then Meve kneels and pets through Reynard’s sweaty hair and pulls him up to pillow his head in her lap. and Reynard is very confused, but like, weirdly, they seem to not find this as suuuuuper weird as it was and seemed to even like it.

So the trolls all finish with their mate while Meve pets his hair and Gascon explores his rounded belly and his cock. When everything is done, Gascon and Meve work on cleaning Reynard out - which is when they discover that the pearls can’t be ‘laid’ yet. They need to incubate for a couple of days, and obviously they can’t just leave Reynard with the trolls who didn’t realize that that sort of thing should be mentioned beforehand. So they decide they’ll take Reynard back to camp and hide him away for several days, giving the men a chance to take leave in the area. 

Except Reynard’s armor can’t fit him anymore, so Meve covers him in her cape and Gascon carries the armor (he thinks he got the shit end of the deal here) and Reynard attempts to stumble back to camp when he’s filled with like 700 pearls. But he can’t really walk and every movement nudges the pearls inside him and he’s ridiculously sensitive and he would be horrified at being half-carried into camp by his queen while wearing only her cape and stuffed full of fucking troll eggs, but tbh he can’t think much beyond feels so good and oh god, do not come, do not make a noise! Fortunately, Meve and Gascon are more than aware of how much it would bother Reynard, so Gascon creates a distraction while Meve sneaks Reynard into her tent. 

When Reynard realizes he’s in his queen’s bed, he tries to jolt upright - except he really can’t move much and his attempt just sents pleasure sizzling through his veins. So of course Meve, being Meve, decides she wants to see him mindless with pleasure again. So she kisses him and presses against his belly and explores his cock. By the time Gascon arrives, Reynard is already halfway to another orgasm (dry by this point, though he might’ve recovered a bit since the trolls) and Gascon is absolutely delighted to join in. 

So basically, they spend a couple of days making up ridiculous excuses that none of their men believe about why they quite suddenly have leave time on their urgent march to free Lyria and, more importantly, driving Reynard out of his mind. Then, after the pearls have incubated long enough, they bring Reynard back to the cave with the trolls and hold him and soothe him as he ‘lays’ the pearls, shuddering and moaning with every twitch of a muscle.

And then the throne3 talk lmao. They get together properly and give Reynard some much needed aftercare, ‘cause dude took 700 fucking pearls!

(Also, the men definitely go wild with rumors as to what happened and why Meve and Gascon and Reynard remain shut in the queen’s tent. Some of them are even partially right, but I don’t think anyone calls the troll bit lmao)

(rorveth) 10/4 - Overstimulation | Monsters | Temperature Play Warnings: implied desire for a noncon gangbang, but Roche shuts that shit down quick and between Iorveth/Roche, there is enthusiastic consent 

I actually started this one for the Rare Pair Bingo, but I still haven’t finished it 😭 But it works pretty well with the prompts. Also, inspired by this art. 

I cannot find the article/study, so it’s probably bullshit, BUT the ongoing joke that I will use to death is “arousal smells like candied watermelon”

When Vernon Roche was a child, his mother used to tell him tales of the majestic creatures of the ocean. Gain one’s favour, it was said, and they would do anything for you.

Of course, then Roche actually went to sea and it turned out, the only creatures around were fish or monsters, not the fabled legends his mother had spoken of.

Or so he thought. After all, everyone knew that monsters were mindless, driven purely by instinct like any beast. Right?

Roche had always thought sirens were just another category of beast, but now… now he was starting to wonder. Because the creature they’d accidentally caught in their net was anything but a beast.

It looked like one – its skin was green and blue, and luminescent in a way that was wholly unnatural. Its torso was shaped like a man, but large bat-like wings protruded from its back and instead of legs, its bottom half had fins to swim through the ocean. But its face…

The skin may have been a lovely blue-green and its eyes were unlike any human’s Roche had ever seen, but they looked at him with intelligence, hatred and fury exuding from the creature’s snarl like they would from any other man’s.

It was… actually kind of beautiful, except for the part where it might try to slaughter his men and his crew. It squirmed, trying to free itself from the net before they could haul it onto the deck, but its fins and wings were tangled in the rope and there was no way it could break free.

“Heave!” he ordered his crew and with one last back-breaking haul, the creature sprawled onto the deck of the ship, net wrapped around it as effective as any trap. 

There was a moment of relative silence as the crew stared at the creature and the creature snarled back at them. Then Thirteen, the lookout who’d spotted something worth throwing their nets out for, stepped closer and the creature lashed out, long talons on the end of its fingers shining in the sun.

“Whoa,” Thirteen reeled back. “Jeez, was just trying to help. Can it talk, you think?”

“It,” the creature growled, voice reverberating oddly across the deck, “is right here and if you do not free me, I will kill each and every one of you.”

Roche and his crew frowned down at the creature and it glared right back.

“What even are you?” Roche eventually asked when their stare off was getting them nowhere and some of the men had started shifting uncomfortably.

It scoffed, “I’m a siren. Obviously. What kind of sailor doesn’t recognize a siren!?”

The creature squirmed around to face him, its finned pelvis pressing against the wooden planks in a way that was suddenly drawing Roche’s attention. It was almost as if… did he smell something sweet? Like candied fruit, almost, and he took a deeper breath, inhaling the scent. Yeah, it was definitely like candied fruit. And it appeared to be coming from the self-proclaimed siren.

Weren’t sirens the legendary creatures that could ensorcel men and send them to their deaths?

“Stop that,” Roche snapped and the creature blinked up at him in surprise. 

Around them, Roche’s crew was growing restless, clearly smelling the same delicious scent that he was – and wanting more of it.

“Whatever you’re exuding, stop,” Roche ordered. “Seriously, unless you want this to end with a whole lotta humans vying for one siren, you need to stop.”

The siren ground sharp teeth together, lips pulled back in a snarl. “I can’t,” it grunted and Roche blinked.

“Why the hell not?”

The siren shot him a look, but it was quickly distracted by assessing the crew around them. Several of the men had bulges in the fronts of their trousers and Roche could admit, he was feeling oddly horny, but it was nothing he couldn’t control.

The same, apparently, could not be said of his sailors, because one man – Roche totally hadn’t forgotten his name, but if he had, it would be totally understandable, as the man had only been with them for 3 weeks so far – stepped forward, towards the creature, who snarled and growled and bared its teeth and raised its claws, but who was also, Roche noticed, unable to move terribly much, not with the net tangled around its wings and fins and it not having legs.

“Cap’n,” the new guy said, “I’ve – I’ve heard that hauls like this sometimes get shared with the crew. Could we–?”

Roche saw the creature freeze at the question and something sour built in his chest.

“No,” he snapped. “Get back to work!”

“But what about–?” Thirteen asked, now keeping his distance from the siren.

“I’ll take care of it,” Roche decided. If it was doing something to make his crew horny and it couldn’t stop, then Roche needed it to not be out in the open, distracting his crew and making them far too likely to do something unforgivable.

There were a few huffs and laughs. “Enjoy, Boss,” Fenn muttered, returning to swabbing the deck. The others dispersed shortly thereafter, though they were definitely still distracted, glancing over at the creature.

“Can we–” the new guy started, “can we watch?”

Roche blinked. “Watch… what? Just – get back to work,” he shook his head, pulling his knife and beginning to cut through one of their best nets. It was snarled beyond repair, so they would need to weave a new one anyway.

The siren growled at him as he approached, but he felt oddly entirely unafraid. This creature was dangerous, certainly, but the way it was posturing hid the way that it was entirely helpless. As long as Roche was actually helping, he was pretty sure the creature wouldn’t attack him.

“What, you want to stay tangled?” he asked rhetorically, trying to lighten the mood. 

The siren narrowed its eyes, watching him come closer and closer to the knots around the siren’s left wing.

“What do you want?” the siren demanded.

“Well, let’s start with keeping you from distracting the crew from their duties,” he let his voice carry across the deck and more than a few people looked away guiltily. “Uh, I guess you don’t exactly have a lot of options to walk. Can I – uh – carry you? Just into the captain’s cabin where we can talk and whatever it is you’re doing that makes everyone,” he waved his hands in demonstration, trying to say ‘really fucking horny’ without saying it, “if you can’t turn it off, then let’s start with getting you away from the crew, huh?”

The siren frowned at him, head tilted to the side. But when he motioned to pick the creature up, it nodded, though very clearly reluctantly.

Roche lifted the siren with one hand under its lower body fin and one around its back below the wings. As he rose, most of the netting that hand tangled around the siren fell away, but not quite all of it. He’d have to take care of that, but first–

“Back to work!” he ordered and more than half of the crew jumped, looking away quickly and pretending to be busy.

He shook his head, carrying the siren into the captain’s quarters and setting it on the bed. Then he withdrew, very deliberately stepping away, even though that smell was incredible and made him want to–

Well, it didn’t matter what he wanted, because he was not going to let his ship become the kind of place where ‘hauls got passed around’.

“So, uh… do you have a name?” he asked belatedly. It was probably kind of offensive to keep calling it ‘it’ in his head. 

The siren stared at him for a long minute, then its head dipped in a nod. “I am called Iorveth.”

“Vernon Roche,” he introduced himself. “I’m the captain of this ship. Um. No offense, but I’ve sailed these waters for decades and I’ve never caught anything like – well, like you before. How did you end up caught in our net?”

The creature – Iorveth – huffed in irritation. “I was distracted,” it – he – said. “I’m – the reason I can’t make it stop,” Iorveth hesitated, looking at Roche and biting his lower lip.

“What?”

“I’m – um, I don’t think humans deal with this, but I’m – I’m in heat,” the siren’s cheeks flushed green as Roche watched and he found himself oddly fascinated.

“Uh… okay. So… how does that lead to getting caught in a net? Shouldn’t you be – I dunno, enticing lovers to, uh… deal with it?”

“I was… avoiding potential ‘lovers’ when your net tangled with my wings,” Iorveth admitted, still looking at him with eyes that blazed. 

“Oh,” Roche blinked. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Uh… should I just like… let you go find someone to – uh, to mate with or whatever?”

“You would let me leave?” Iorveth asked, surprise clear in his voice and on his face.

“I… yes? Why? What am I supposed to do with a siren?”

Iorveth tilted his head again, frowning at Roche. “Your crew had an idea about that.”

Roche blanched. “That would be entirely inappropriate!”

The corner of Iorveth’s lips ticked up. “I’ve heard tales of other sirens caught by humans. Many would disagree with you.”

“Well, fuck them,” Roche growled, suddenly infuriated. “My ship is not somewhere things like that are acceptable!”

“Hmm,” Iorveth hummed. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course!” It was possible a hint of offense leaked into his tone, but really. “You’re clearly an intelligent creature. Your refusal should be respected, no matter by what species.”

Iorveth’s smile grew. “What makes you think I’ve refused?”

Roche blinked at him, taken entirely off guard. “What?”

“Well, technically, you haven’t made an offer for me to refuse. But are you so sure that’s what I’d say?”

“I… yes?”

Iorveth licked his lips, leaning back on the bed and running his hands down his body until he reached an area just below where his hips would be if he were a human. The scales were darker there and it took Roche a moment to realize that that was because there was an opening there. A wet opening.

Mouth suddenly watering, Roche licked his lips, wondering what Iorveth would taste like. But he didn’t move, even as Iorveth dipped the tips of his own fingers into the slit. Then Iorveth hooked both pointer fingers inside the slit and pulled it open, making Roche gasp as the dark cavern inside was exposed to view.

“Don’t you want me?” Iorveth asked softly, smirk confident and coy. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“I…” Roche swallowed hard, staring at that slit. “Why… you’re asking me to mate with you?”

“I’m asking you to fill me and fuck me through my heat,” Iorveth murmured, removing one hand and bringing it to his lips.

When Iorveth’s tongue flicked out to lick his finger, Roche couldn’t help the punched out moan that escaped him.

“Why?”

Iorveth smiled. “Because you let it be my choice.”

“That’s just basic decency!” Roche argued, but he did take a step closer. Then another. “You’re sure you want–?”

“I’ve never had a human before,” Iorveth said, half-lidded gaze locked with his. “Don’t you want to play with the prize you’ve captured?”

Roche gulped. “I – you – is that what you want? To be – to be treated like stolen treasure?”

Iorveth’s eyes lit up. “Yes,” the siren breathed, “steal me. Take me.”

Stepping up to the edge of the bed, Roche looked Iorveth over for any sign that this wasn’t truly what he wanted. 

Iorveth rewarded his scrutiny by dipping his fingers into that slit again, then holding them out. “Have a taste,” Iorveth invited and Roche was lost, leaning forward to wrap his mouth around those fingers, tongue eager to taste everything he could.

He moaned as Iorveth’s flavor spread across his tongue. If he’d thought about it, he might have expected Iorveth to taste briney from the sea. But instead, his tastebuds quivered with delight because Iorveth was slightly salty and slightly sweet and slightly something else altogether on his tongue and he immediately wanted more.

“You’re sure?” he asked one last time, missing Iorveth’s cool fingers as soon as they moved away.

Iorveth smiled, touching his face lightly. “Fuck me, Vernon Roche.”

Roche couldn’t help his moan, but while Iorveth probably expected Roche to pull out his cock and go for it, there was something Roche needed first. 

He licked his lips, crawling up the bed until he was hovering over Iorveth’s lower body. Then he leaned forward and swiped his tongue along that wet opening, enjoying the way Iorveth gasped sharply.

He moaned again, tongue delving into that opening like he was a starving man and Iorveth was a royal buffet. Iorveth’s taste and scent overwhelmed him and Iorveth knocked off his hat, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer.

After a while of that, Iorveth’s muscles started twitching, close to the edge, and Roche thrust his tongue as deep as it could go.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Iorveth began to swear, slipping into another language as his hips rocked up into Roche’s face. Roche devoured him, licking and sucking and generally dedicating himself to thoroughly exploring Iorveth’s opening.

“Gods, your cunt is delicious,” Roche groaned, lips moving across the slit in Iorveth’s scales.

“It’s not a cunt,” Iorveth said. “It’s a – it’s – oh fuck,” Iorveth gasped, body arching and twitching as Roche’s face was soaked. 

Roche did not stop the attention he was paying to Iorveth’s not-cunt, continuing to lick and suck and devour Iorveth.

Iorveth clung to his head, hands clutching desperately at his hair as the siren’s hips continued to buck and overstimulated whimpers filled the air.

Still, Roche did not stop and Iorveth cried out in that other language as he came for a second time, far too close to the first to not be painful.

And again, Roche did not stop.

Iorveth’s crying was agonized, but his hands were still tangled in Roche’s hair, holding Roche against him.

“How many more can you give me?” Roche asked, lips moving against Iorveth’s slit.

“Nnnh,” Iorveth arched, “f-fuck me, dammit!”

Roche smirked, lips curling up against Iorveth’s scales. “Is that not what I’m doing?”

Iorveth let out a strangled sound, fingers tightening in Roche’s hair.

“Unnh,” Iorveth gasped desperately. “Your cock! Fuck me with your cock, gods dammit, or I’ll–”

Roche pulled away, still smirking, and the noise Iorveth made was unhinged. 

“Vernon,” Iorveth growled, and Roche just grinned, kneeling up and unbuckling his belt. He stripped his shirt off with minimal ceremony, then reached for the waistband of his trousers, which were mostly being held up by the very hard cock inside them.

Iorveth licked his lips, a quick flash of tongue, and Roche swallowed hard, debating if getting his boots off was worth moving away from Iorveth.

Meeting his gaze squarely, Iorveth sent him a hot look. “Fuck me, Vernon.”

Roche moaned, deciding that nothing mattered except giving Iorveth his cock, even if that meant his trousers tangled around his boots. He gripped the base of his cock, teasing it around Iorveth’s slit until the siren snarled again.

“Vernon!”

Tilting his head, Roche smiled. “I think you can ask nicely, can’t you?”

Iorveth’s glare was impressive, but when your second glared at men as if they should apologize for existing, you became rather impervious to such intimidation tactics.

Plus, Iorveth wasn’t as scary as Ves. Nothing was as scary as Ves.

“Gods just – fuck me!”

Clicking his tongue, Roche ignored his own urgent need. “That wasn’t very nice now was it?”

Obviously this is just an excuse to explore nonhuman genitalia lmao, but my vague plan was that Iorveth begs, Roche finally fucks him, and fucks him through like 3 more orgasms and he’s crying and hoarse from screaming, but he needs Roche to come in him and Roche has been holding off to give him so much pleasure and he wants to make Roche feel good too.

Then they pass out from too much sex lmao

[free-pancakes]

couldn’t sleep last night and decided to elaborate more on this prompt! thanks again for the ask, @agoldenheartedsnkfan​! i ended up changing my original answer a bit as i kept writing

it’s a bunch of levihan fluff and banter and it’s not very exciting, so you are officially forewarned lol

Summary: Levi confronts his feelings about Hange after the Sawney/Bean incident

cross-posted to ao3

“Levi, do you mind holding these for me?” Hange shoved her papers into Levi’s hands and ran back into her office. “Moblit couldn’t carry all my stuff, so this is a huge help, thanks Levi!” “Oi, four-eyes, what’s all this shit for?”

Hange ran back out of her office holding more tools and notebooks. “I’m doing some more experiments on Sawney and Bean tomorrow and I’m setting it all up! Remember, I’ll be meeting up with your squad and Eren later!”

“Hmph. Well you might as well just move your entire office out towards those damn titans, then. Carrying this stuff back and forth is a waste of time.” Hange threw her head back and laughed. “It would take ages to move my entire office out here, shorty! And THAT would be a waste of time!”

Levi rolled his eyes at her comment, and they started walking together to the tents outside the compound where the titans were held captive.

“Thanks for your help, Levi!” Hange smiled widely, and dropped half the things she was holding just to hug him, causing him to do the same.

“Oi four-eyes, we just got here and you’re already making a mess,” he muttered as he immediately started tidying up all the papers strewn across the floor. “Wow Levi, you can’t let a mess sit for even a second before you have to clean it up!” As she bent down next to him gathering the notebooks on the floor, the sweet scent of lavender reached Levi’s nose. “Yeah well good thing you started using the shampoo I bought you, because then this shit wouldn’t be the only mess on the floor I’d have to clean up.” Hange let out a small giggle, “Aw Levi, stop being so uptight! That’s why you have that permanent, constipated look on your face all the time!”

Nifa looked at Moblit. “God you were right, their weird little banter and bickering really doesn’t end, does it?”

“SHHHH NIFA they might hear you! I’d be caught dead if Levi finds out I’ve been ranting to our squad about the two of them! I’m glad Hange’s happy when Levi’s around but honestly I’d like some peace and quiet sometimes,” Moblit sighed.

Nifa whispered, “Hm, well if we said something, maybe they’d finally realize they actually do like each other, maybe they’ll stop fighting all the time!”

“Oh Nifa, with my luck, their banter will never end no matter what happens. Come on, we have a lot of work to do.”

“Ughhh fine,” Nifa said, defeated.

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

Levi stood with his arms crossed in front of Erwin’s desk. “Moblit said you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I’m a bit, concerned about Hange. I haven’t seen her since we completed the ODM checks. I’m not entirely sure who really killed Sawney and Bean at this point, but I have some feeling that Hange is still blaming herself over it. I haven’t heard or seen her for the past couple days—I know it’s your day off, but do you think you could find her and see how she’s doing, Levi?”

“Sure.” Levi turned to walk out the door.

“And Levi?”“Yes?”

“I asked you because well…I know you’d be able to bring her spirits back up. It’s been awfully quiet without her around.”

Levi nodded, and left to find Hange.

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

Levi searched all throughout the barracks—the lab, Hange’s office, the mess hall, and all her usual spots he’d find her sitting and scribbling notes. He checked with his squad and Hange’s squad, and no one knew where Hange was.

It was getting late, and the sun began to set lazily in sky. Levi was about to leave to look through their usual hangout places in town, when he heard Nifa jogging to catch up to him. “Hey Levi! I did notice one thing—Hange’s ODM gear is missing! She must have it with her!” Levi was grateful for how observant Hange’s squad members were, because now, he knew exactly where she was. He reached out to ruffle Nifa’s hair, and headed out.

Levi scaled the wall with his ODM gear, and started walking through the path of walkway around all the supply boxes and materials stored up by the center looking post. He wandered around for a few minutes until he turned around a tall pile of supplies and saw Hange, sitting with her legs dangling off the side of the wall, holding her face in her hands. He was entranced by her appearance, tears streaming into her hands, traveling slowly down her arms. He had seen Hange cry before, mourning over dead comrades and failed experiments, but this was different. Hange was sunshine personified—a fierce fire ever present in her eyes, a person radiating energy and self-confidence every minute Levi had known her. But in that moment, it was nowhere to be found, and it made Levi feel so cold that he shivered where he stood. He woke himself out of his trance, and stepped silently towards Hange. As he got closer, he heard Hange muttering to herself—

“God, Hange. It’s all your fault, you’re such an idiot. You just keep on letting everyone down don’t you? Why can’t you just stop being so goddamn useless?”

Levi stopped at hearing those words and felt nothing but anger—“How could she even think that?” he thought to himself. He was overwhelmed with fierce feelings to protect her and wanted nothing but for her to know how important she was to the survey corps, to those 104th brats, to his squad, to their friends, and more importantly—to him. His chest swelled with emotion, overwhelming his senses. He closed his eyes, took a moment to breathe and calm himself.

He avoided dwelling on these types of feelings, but to his annoyance, he was constantly pestered with comments and questions on the nature of his relationship was with Hange. However, the more Levi let himself simmer in these thoughts, the more he realized that he couldn’t just keep denying how he truly felt. Three years was long enough.

He walked towards her until he was standing directly behind her, looking down at the top of her head, mesmerized by the purple-orange glow of the sunset illuminating the tears on her face, and her flowing locks of hair draping softly over her shoulders—he rarely ever saw it out of a ponytail. “God, even when she's sad, everything about her is still beautiful,” Levi thought.

Hange didn’t notice Levi until she suddenly felt his hands gently cupping her cheeks, which then carefully pushed her chin upwards to look at him. She was startled at first, as she thought she was alone, but she recognized it to be Levi fairly quickly. She found herself staring into Levi’s face, his bangs barely brushing the tip of her nose. She was angry at first, upset that anyone would find the scout’s section commander crying and doubting her own abilities. But as she frowned and opened her mouth to yell and project her frustrations onto him, Levi wiped away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs and sat down next to her, his actions calming her sudden surge of anger. They made eye contact, and Hange knew exactly what was on Levi’s mind—he didn’t need to say a word.

Hange laughed, and placed her hand on Levi’s shoulder. “You always know what to say… without even saying it, don’t you Levi?”

A few moments of silenced passed.

“Hm. Well, your eyesight might be trash, but other than that, you do know you’re not useless, right?”

Hange looked down with embarrassment, surprised he had heard her talking to herself. She opened her mouth to speak in protest, but Levi gently placed his hand on her head and pulled her into his gaze. “I don’t want to hear any of that nonsense ever again, Hange. Focus on what lies ahead, and I’ll be right here by your side to hold your shit, or whatever you need. Okay?”

Hange’s eyes widened. Levi might not be great with words, but Hange was always good at “translating” for him, or at least understanding what he really meant. “Levi, are you saying… what I think you’re saying?”

Levi was at a loss for words, and beads of sweat instantly started forming on the side of his brow. Hange noticed this immediately and laughed so hard that tears started welling up around her eyes. “Oi four-eyes, this isn’t funny!” Hange kept laughing and laid her head on his shoulder. It took all of Levi’s energy to suppress a smile—he hated to admit it, but her laughter was contagious. “Hange I’m serious, okay? I—“

“I love you too, yknow?” Hange whispered.

Levi’s expression softened at her response. Minutes passed before either of them could say anything. They sat, dwelling on the words they just exchanged, staring out to the vast land in front of them, the last rays of sun peaking over the horizon.

“…How long have you known?” Levi asked curiously.

“Well Nanaba really just pulled me aside the last time we all went drinking about a few months ago, and pushed me in the right direction, I guess. It’s funny, in retrospect, I think the moment I knew that you might be a little more than just my best friend was—“

“At the Sina military ball 3 years ago,” Levi and Hange echoed simultaneously.

“W-wait, you started having feelings for me the same night I did for you?” Hange exclaimed.

“Pfft, pulling those pranks on all those dumb military police morons with you wasn’t bad.” Hange smiled as she reminisced over the trouble they got into that night, the laughter they shared, and… their first dance together. “Hey Levi, the two of us make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“Yeah, all 3 of us.”“Oi what do you mean by 3 of us? What are you talking about??”

“Yeah, 3. You, me, and your shitty glasses.”

Hange laughed heartily, and kissed Levi on the cheek. He immediately blushed and she giggled more at his embarrassment. She stood up, and said, “Hah, well I guess it’s time to head back. Erwin’s probably wondering where we are, and the debrief meeting is gonna start pretty soon.” She excitedly held her hand out towards Levi to help him up. He couldn’t help but smile at her goofy grin, and grabbed her hand.

[rainofaugustsith]

SWTOR: Full list of future predictions

I am writing up a post with my predictions for future storylines (I’m right sometimes!).

SPOILERS FOR EVERYTHING INCLUDING SPIRIT OF VENGEANCE AND ECHOES OF OBLIVION

The Mandalorian storyline

We're going to be placed in the position of supporting Shae Vizla or not, and our actions will determine who the Mandalorians side with overall and who they attack - which will have additional consequences for the larger war.

At the end of the Spirit of Vengeance story, Heta Kol takes off her helmet, looks at the Clan Caldera banner and says mando'ad draar digu, which translates to "A Mandalorian never forgets."  Personally I think we're going to find out she is related to Torian in some way. Mother. Sister. Old friend. There's a reason she stole the Clan Cadera banner specifically. I don't think she's there to avenge Torian, because her actions are the same regardless if Torian is alive or dead. But I think that may factor into how she views the Commander.

What do we know about Torian's clan? Clan Cadera, along with Ordo's clan, broke with Mandalore and the others to support the Republic instead of the Empire. This brought great shame on the clan - although from what we see of Jicoln Cadera on Taris, I have a feeling there were numerous other things that he did to cause shame. Regardless, Kol and her allies may view Clan Cadera as a symbol of resistance. I don't have a feeling that her group has any special love for the Republic, just the mindset of rebelling against the other factions.

The second ship in the flashpoint belongs to the Darmanda - we met them on Mek-Sha. We were able to extract a favor from Indigo if we did one for him, but he may have his own agenda apart from Kol's. His group seemed to want to splinter away from the Mandalorians altogether. There's also some measure of dissent shown amongst Kol's allies. I think it's therefore possible we will have two battles going on - we may have to choose to ally with someone against Kol, and decide to support Shae as Mandalore or someone else. Vaylin Strikes Back.

Yep, we've got another Dead Person Who Isn't Actually Dead. This one's pretty obvious given the clues in Echoes of Oblivion. Vaylin 'borrowed' the corpse of one of Satele Shan's students and now she's hanging out on Coruscant. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone.

I think that Vaylin may show up as a very obvious foe if Senya and Arcann are still alive. You helped two people who participated in her subjugation and did nothing to stop it. In Echoes of Oblivion she is pissed at all of you, has words for you, and says she’s there because she’s being dragged along. You've now had two letters from Senya who is worried that Vaylin's spirit won't rest. She's going to come back, she's going to be pissed off and she's likely going to want revenge.

On the other hand, if you killed Senya and Arcann, I think Vaylin may be far more amiable to the PC. After all, in KOTET, she's not angry you killed them. She's only angry you got to kill Senya before she did, and you can still talk her through that. She actually says that the PC is "fun" if they give her the right answer.  And in Echoes of Oblivion, if you killed Arcann and Senya, Vaylin does not show any animosity toward you - even when the rest of her family does. She doesn't even look at her family. Instead, she turns to zap Tenebrae with lightning when he advances toward you.  

In the former scenario I think it's going to be Stop Vaylin Again or Convert her to the Jedi!! as the storyline. In the latter I think you may have a chance to gain her allegiance and let her live her life.

Task Force Nova

If you are Republic, Daerunn and Gnost-Dural let you know that they are developing Task Force Nova to bring Jedi back into the fold. There are also at least two conversations where it's pointed out that some Jedi really do not want to return to war, and others are still in hiding or working strictly in non-combat roles. Gnost-Dural repeatedly says that it is the Jedis' "duty" to fight for the Republic and that doesn't seem to have an endpoint.

Arn Peralun supports all of the above. He's clearly dealing with some very deep trauma but is being forced to remain on the front lines.

I think this is an issue that is going to have an impact on characters from both factions, and loyalists and saboteurs alike. Do you help Gnost-Dural recruit and conscript Jedi who may not wish to fight in a war again? Do you protect Jedi who are fleeing Task Force Nova? What about the Jedi on the Alliance base?

I also think that if scripted right, this can be a nuanced issue. IMHO OCs from both factions may want to protect Jedi from being forced to return to the battlefield if that is not their wish. Let's hope the devs don't make that one of their famous "either you're singing Sound of Music on the mountainside or you kick puppies for fun" choices.

Malgus

By now we've had lots of evidence that Malgus was subjected to some pretty hardcore conditioning when he was pulled from carbonite or otherwise brought back from the dead. There's also evidence that Malgus is on his way to Dantooine to try to shake his conditioning. It's the Imperial Agent Chapter 2 story, but amplified.

My personal hypothesis is this: There's scrapped footage showing the Zakuul twins bringing Malgus - in carbonite - as a present to their father. There are rumors that Arcann and Acina were chummy for a time. So...part of the deal with Acina and the Eternal Empire was to return Malgus, complete with awful Nathema-style conditioning, so Acina could have an enforcer. Along with putting down her opponents, she put down those who would have looked for the Empire's fighters.

That could have been the Outlander. Acina surely would have loved to use them as a tool. But why wasn't it? Because Valkorion was in the Outlander's head, Arcann knew that, and he sure as hell wasn't about to let Daddy run around freely in the Empire again. Valkorion's presence also may have made it impossible to condition the Outlander.

But I do think that both Acina AND Saresh knew damned well where the Outlander was, they just were not about to free them.

This supports Quinn being thrown in jail for searching for the Sith Warrior and also supports Lana Beniko being forced to flee...she was digging too deep and asking too many questions, and she also was a powerful Sith who very much had the ability to counter Acina. Elara Dorne suffered a similar fate; she kept asking and asking and the Republic military censured her. Kira and Scourge and the Bounty Hunter companions did go look, but they very clearly broke from their factions to do so.

When does the Sith Empire officially ally with the Alliance? When Arcann is deposed. Before that, as per Ranken, the Sith Empire cannot openly support the Alliance. Vaylin's in charge, and for whatever reason, they're not about to deal with her. They see an opening to overthrow the Eternal Empire and they grab for that chance with all their might. I actually do believe Acina when she says she wants to protect her people and also that she has changed the Empire for the better. But I also believe that like other leaders in both factions, she will slaughter as needed.

And here's a fun twist - Arcann also knew about Malgus's programming and could turn him on Acina if the Empire crossed him or tried to fight back. The complication to this hypothesis is that if Arcann is still alive he still could do that, but he's not currently the Emperor of Zakuul in charge of a scary fleet so his power may be limited. But this would explain why Acina's so much more willing to deal when Arcann's out of the picture as a ruler.

I think that we're going to have to help or hinder Malgus's deconditioning, and then perhaps we're also going to be faced with a difficult choice: do we align with Malgus or with the Sith Empress/Emperor? For me, this would be a far easier choice if the ruler is Acina vs. Vowrawn, but it may mean the difference between the Empire adopting a more progressive bent or going back to being more totalitarian. This is something that could affect both sides, and thus I think both sides will have some impact.

[theoriginalladya]

Milky Way, Constellation, Sun, and Meteor for Rhys and/or Michael?

from this list

LOL  Of course!!!

Milky Way:  What is your Shepard’s full name? Do they have a nickname?

Rhys - Dr. Rhys Dafydd Shepard. (shhhh, don’t tell him I told you! lol)

Michael - John Michael Shepard.  He went by John when in the Reds and wanted nothing else to do with them when he enlisted, so he took a name off a movie poster he saw on the way to the recruitment station.

Constellation:  Does your Shepard have a family? Are they alive?

Rhys - Yes.  Rhys’ mother, Hannah, is an officer in the Alliance military.  She is still alive.  His father, Malcolm, died during the First Contact War.  His father’s parents, Evelyn and Callum, raise him on Earth after Malcolm’s death.  They are both alive (at least through ME1). 

Michael - Michael has no idea who is family is or the circumstances around his birth.  He has a ‘sister’ - Joelle - with whom he was close when in the Reds.  

Sun:   Was there a person in your Shepard’s life that changed their view on life/the world?

Rhys - I suppose you could say mother.  Rhys adored his father, hung on his every word, etc. and wanted to be a soldier just like him.  He was six when his father was killed in action and his mother sent him away.  That one action convinced him he never wanted to become a part of the system ever.  He and his grandparents grew very close and supported his decision.  Hannah, however, still has control over him and his life until he is no longer a minor.  He fully blames her for the disaster that was BAaT, too, as she’d had the Conatix people following him around for months on end before his biotics finally manifested.

Michael - Will you believe me when I say that it’s Kandra?  He sees her as a ‘force to be reckoned with,’ but it isn’t until the Reaper War that he really gets to know her better, see the world through her eyes, and that does change him.  Maybe not in how he makes the hard choices, but in other ways.  And the best part about it, the way that she is so different from anyone else in his life (and trust me, Kaidan is a close second on his list) is that she has no idea how what she believes/does affects those around her.  She just doesn’t see it.  

Meteor:  Does your Shepard have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

Okay, how much time do you have?  ROFL

Rhys - I think I’ll just make a quick list for him - it’ll be easier! lol

Dinosaurs on the freaking BRAIN

Cowboy hat, boots, jeans, etc.  

Country line dancing (re: see The Barn  lol) (also, dancing in general)

when he starts talking ‘shop’ (ie: Protheans) he shifts into ‘professor mode’ 

avoiding ANYTHING ALLIANCE  (he’s not so successful at that after Eden Prime, but, well ...)

he likes to hum and sing and will often do both while working, even out in the field, not realizing he is doing it until someone joins him

Michael - Other than being a biotic pinball wizard and giving Kaidan a heart attack every time he heads into battle???  Hmm ...  not sure at this point.  Ask me again after I make more progress on his fic.  ;)

[ask-the-war-bois]

* Flippy stays quiet for a good minute

“My parents never loved me, they pretended like I didn't exist, I'm pretty sure I got DID from that, but Fliqpy wasn't created until that day”

* He sounds sad...

“I remember the other kids talking about how their parents bought them toys, took the places, but I never got that”

*he tears up

“I... I was only able to stay in school for like, two years, before they stopped paying for it. They didn't feed me, they didn't buy me clothes, nothing”

* Baby at this point was crying

“A-And if I tried speaking to them, they would lock me in their basement, I was only able to stay alive because I managed to sneak out of it to get food and water, and I could take baths when they left the house”

“I tried to... End it all multiple times, but something told me to keep going”

* He looks down at the floor

“And when I turned 18 I left my house to join the military, and you know how the rest of the story goes already”

(DID I DO IT RIGHT?)

(YES AND NOW IM CRYING)

*tiger looks horrified but quickly scoops up flippy and gently wipes his tears away*

"Shhhh shhhhh it's okay...."

*he sits down on the bench and holds flip close*

"They can't hurt you anymore....I won't let them ever hurt you again....your safe with me..I promise"

*tiger was pissed, they hurt him..they hurt this sweet bear so much...he swears if they ever show up he'll kill them*

*tiger gently rubs flippys back and wraps his tail around him, he hopes it's comforting*

"Your safe....they'll never hurt you again"

[admiralty-xfd]

hi! could you write something about scully nursing william and getting frustrated because she's tired, he's fussing and it's not going the way she wants to, and mulder trying to help in his own thoughtful and adorable way?

The wailing has been going on for hours. 

Maybe not hours, but to new parents minutes feel like hours; hours feel like days. 

Scully holds William close, tears forming in her eyes. She’s exhausted. She’s tried shushing, she’s tried swaddling, she’s tried soothing. The only “S” in this particular baby’s vernacular is apparently “screaming.”

She tries to nurse for the dozenth time, to no avail. He’s simply not having it right now.

“Shhh, there, there,” she whispers, closing her eyes to contain the tears, bouncing him on her shoulder. 

Shh, bounce. Shh, bounce. Shhhh…

“Give him to me,” Mulder’s voice comes, and he’s suddenly there, arms outstretched.

“It’s fine, Mulder, it’s okay.”

“Did you try the bullfrog song?”

“Yes, I tried the bullfrog song,” she snaps. He recoils at her abrupt tone. “I’m sorry, Mulder,” she says immediately, tears actively streaming. “This is just so hard… everyone tells you how hard this is but nothing can possibly prepare you for it.”

Mulder crouches down in front of her. “I know. Believe me, I had no idea, either.” He strokes the tiny infant’s head and smiles at her. “I think you’re doing an incredible job.”

She reaches out to touch his face. She can feel the scratchy stubble, smell his new-Dad scent. “You’ve been amazing,” she says, her voice hitching with emotion.

He smiles again and leans in to talk to William. “You know how brave your mom is?” he says, eyes flickering up to Scully. He winks. “She’s saved my ass so many times.”

“Mulder!” she scolds.

“Sorry, my… booty… so many times. From military bases, from monsters. From serial killers...” She gives him a stern look, you’ll give the kid nightmares, but realizes the impossibility of that happening and lets his voice do the magic it’s so often done on her. William’s fussing has subsided considerably.

“...And you know what, little guy? She did all of that on her own.”

Scully’s tears still stream, but they are happy tears now. Mulder has that power. 

He looks right at her. “She did it by herself. All by herself. Because she’s the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

Scully nods in understanding. Mulder stands slowly and leans in to kiss her, and she can almost feel the softness of his lips against hers when her eyes fly open and she is alone.

Mulder isn’t here. He hasn’t been here in weeks.

It’s okay, she thinks. I can do this. I’m the bravest person he’s ever met.