#It really should not be that hard but his defining feature is fishing and FROM WHAT I KNOW FAIRIES DON'T FISH?!

[thebardscipher]

*asks for help on how to write a character* *Gets either "Wait? You want to write THAT character? Who would wanna write that character?", contradicting advice, or advice that is like....sorta helpful but not really what I need/want* *Internal screaming*

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 13

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 13 - This Venerable One's Bride

No need to remind Mo Ran. Chu Wanning had already figured that out long ago.

Those people were chatting and laughing, but they didn't know where the voices came from. Those who were sitting or standing, gesturing and toasting; their faces were blank, just like paper.

"What do we do? Do we have to go in and drink with them?"

Chu Wanning was not amused by Mo Ran's poorly-timed joke, and he lowered his head in thought.

At this moment, there was a sound of rustling footsteps in the distance. Two long lines of people emerged from the hazy fog, slowly approaching the main building from the distance.

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran subconsciously ducked behind the rocks, and the two teams approached, led by a coquettishly smiling golden boy and girl. These two people had clearly defined facial features. Their faces were colourful, and in the night light, they looked like paper dolls burned for the dead.

Each of them was holding a red candle in one hand. The body of the candle was as thick as the child’s arm, with dragon and phoenix seals entwined on it. As the candle burned, the rich fragrance of the powder wafted to their noses, and Mo Ran almost fainted again. Fortunately, the wound that Chu Wanning stabbed in his arm still hurt, and he squeezed the wound again, finally keeping his consciousness clear.

Chu Wanning gave him a look.

Mo Ran: ". . .cough, this trick works."

After a pause, he wondered again: "Shizun, why don't you need to poke holes in your body to stay awake?"

Chu Wanning: "This fragrance doesn't work on me."

"Huh? Why?"

Chu Wanning said coldly: "Good concentration."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Headed by the golden boy and girl, the two lines climbed up the steps. Chu Wanning moved his gaze back, looked for a second, and suddenly let out a low "Hmm?"

He was rarely surprised, so Mo Ran was immensely curious. He followed his line of sight to see, also amazed.

He saw that those who swayed in the procession were all dead bodies with closed eyes. They had pale skin and kept the appearance they had before alive. Most of them were very young. They were in their twenties, both men and women. One figure was very familiar--

The Chen family's eldest son, who was seen in the coffin before, appeared in the procession again at some point. His eyes were closed. He followed the scent of candles and walked slowly. Next to him was something different from the others. Others had corpses walking next to them, he walked next to a paper mâché ghost bride.

While Mr. Chen was not a big deal, when the procession came to the end and they saw the people at the end of the two lines, Mo Ran's face drained of blood.

Shi Mei and Chen Yao had their faces hung and were following behind the dead body. Both of them had their eyes closed. Their faces were as white as snow. Their walking posture was no different from those of the dead people in front of them. They didn't even know if they were still alive or not.

Mo Ran's mind exploded. He jumped up and wanted to rush over, but Chu Wanning suddenly grabbed his shoulders: "Hold on."

"But Shi Mei——!!!"

"I know." Chu Wanning stared at the procession slowly moving forward and whispered, "Don't move rashly. Look over there, there is a martial law barrier. If you rush past it, the barrier will scream and I'm afraid that all the faceless ghosts in the yard will rush at you, and the scene will grow out of control."

Chu Wanning is the master of barrier enchantments. He recognized these enchantments well and his eyes were razor-sharp. Mo Ran found that at the entrance to the banquet yard, there was a nearly transparent film.

The golden boy and girl walked to the front of the courtyard. They gently blew on the cupped candle flame, fluttered the flames, and then slowly - passed through the layer of barriers and walked into the courtyard.

The men and women behind them followed them one after the other, passing through the transparent barrier without any issue. The faceless people in the yard drinking wedding wine turned their heads, watching the men and women who entered, laughing and applauding.

Chu Wanning said: "Go, follow them. When you cross the barrier, remember not to breathe and keep your eyes closed. Also, no matter what happens, copy what the corpses are doing and never speak."

He didn't need to say anything more. Mo Ran eagerly wanted to save the others, and immediately followed Chu Wanning into the group of corpses.

The number of corpses in the two lines stayed the same. Chu Wanning stood behind Shi Mei, and Mo Ran could only stand behind Chen Yao. The lines moved very slowly, Mo Ran glanced over at Shi Mei several times. All he could see was his pale profile and a section of white neck that was helplessly drooping.

It was hard to keep up the act all the way to the boundary. The two concentrated and held their breath, smoothly following through to the courtyard. After entering, he found out that the area inside was much larger than it looked like from the outside. In addition to the three-story main building, the courtyard was lined with a hundred or so small rooms, each of which had a red letter of happiness in their window and a red lantern.

The faceless guests suddenly stood up. Salutes were fired and suona horns sounded.

A faceless salute officer in front of the building sang in waves: "The auspicious hour has arrived, and the bride and groom have entered the garden--"

Mo Ran was stunned. What? He dared to say that these two dead bodies are the bride and groom?

He turned his head to ask for help from Chu Wanning, but the brows of Beidou Immortal were furrowed. He was immersed in his own thoughts, unable to extricate himself, and didn't bother to look at Mo Ran.

. . . Mo Ran felt that all his uncle's hard work might be in vain. Going down the mountain to gain experience, with this kind of shizun, was really more damaging to his pride than if he had gone without a shizun.

Suddenly a group of laughing and joking tufts of children rushed out from the courtyard, dressed in bright red clothes, but with white head ropes tied in pigtails. They clustered like fish to either side of the lines and began pulling one person each, leading them to the compartments on either side.

Mo Ran didn't know what to do so he mouthed to Chu Wanning: Shizun, what should I do?

Chu Wanning shook his head, pointing to the tidal wave of dead bodies that followed the boy and girl scattered in front of him. The meaning was clear - follow them.

There was no choice but to let a boy with a bun pull him forward, stumbling into one of the compartments. As soon as he entered, the boy waved his sleeve in the air, and the door closed with a bang.

Mo Ran stared at the little man, wondering what the faceless brat wanted to do to him.

In his previous life, Chu Wanning rescued Shi Mei first and then broke the illusion. He didn't do anything the entire time then he easily removed the evil spirits. And then all he did was relish in the wonderful afterglow of kissing Shi Mei. Afterwards, during Chu Wanning’s report, he actually didn't listen much.

So now the situation had completely changed. He didn't know what was going to happen next, so he could only bite the bullet.

The room was decorated with a dressing table, a bronze mirror standing upright, and a black and red suit embroidered with Ruyi patterns supported on the wooden frame.

The boy patted the stool and motioned for Mo Ran to sit down.

Mo Ran realized that the ghosts here weren't very clever. They were pretty stupid. As long as he didn't speak, they couldn't tell the dead from the living, so he sat in front of the dressing table like the child wanted. The little boy rustled over and started to help him freshen up and change his clothes. . .

Suddenly, a begonia flower drifted in from the window and landed leisurely in the water inside the copper basin.

Mo Ran's eyes lit up. This begonia was called Evening Night Northern Star, which was specifically used by Chu Wanning for silent messaging.

He picked up the begonia from the water, and the flower instantly stretched and bloomed in his palm, revealing a gleam of light gold in the centre.

He twisted the golden light on his fingertips and put it to his ears. Chu Wanning's voice rang in his ears.

"Mo Ran, I have confirmed with Tianwen that this is the illusion created by the Master of Ceremonies Ghost in Caidie Town. It was worshipped by the villagers' incense for a hundred years and gradually cultivated into something more physical. As long as there are more ghost marriages, its power will grow stronger, so it loves to organize these wedding ceremonies. Those corpses lined up in two lines should be the ghost couples that the people of Caidie Town have put together under its witness over the past hundreds of years. It likes this kind of fun. Every night, it summons those corpses to the illusionary realm and conducts another ghost marriage, and each time it conducts it, it grows even stronger."

Mo Ran thought to himself - What a pervert!

When other gods are bored, they'll at most match up boys and girls. What kind of Master of Ceremonies is this? It's said to have an immortal body, but its brain must not have kept up with it. Its only hobby was to match up male corpses and female corpses. It didn't matter if they were already matched, the dead married corpses were summoned from the grave every night, again, again, and again.

Was this group of corpses that good-looking?

This bachelor god must be lonely enough.

Chu Wanning continued: "Its true body isn't here. Don't act rashly. Follow the instructions of the golden boy and girl for a while. Since it wants to absorb the power of their ghost marriage, it will inevitably show its original shape in the end."

Mo Ran wanted to ask: Where's Shi Mei? How's Shi Mei?

"There's no need to worry about Shi Mei. He, like Madam Chen, was bewitched by the fragrance powder and temporarily lost consciousness." Chu Wanning considered the problem very carefully and made it clear that what Mo Ran might be wondering. "Take care of yourself. I've got everything under control."

After speaking, the voice disappeared.

At the same time, the child also took care of Mo Ran's attire. He looked up and saw that the face in the bronze mirror was beautiful, the corners of his lips naturally raised, his eyebrows were clean and fresh, his collars were overlapped, his auspicious clothing was a flaming red, and the hair was long but tied back with a white hairband, and he really looked like a married bridegroom.

The boy made a gesture of "if you would" and the door of the closed compartment creaked open.

Under the corridor, standing a row of corpses in auspicious clothes, both men and women, it seemed that the clay head mould of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost wasn't enlightened yet. As long as he had pairs in the hall to be married, it didn't matter, regardless of whether it was a man and woman, man and man, or woman and woman. He didn't care.

There was only one line of dead bodies standing on this side of the corridor, and the other line was on the opposite side. They were too far away, and he couldn't see if Chu Wanning and Shi Wei had come out.

The procession was moving slowly forward, and every now and then the sound of the chanting of the officials in the building could be heard. The marriage of one pair after another was slowly being completed.

Mo Ran took a look at Chen Yao in front of him and felt that something was wrong. After pondering for a while, when the line was gradually shortening and the last few pairs were about to take their turn, the dirty bastard finally understood— —

Wait! According to the procession, does that mean the woman in front of him is going to be married to Shi Mei? Wouldn't that mean he's going to be paired with that little bitch Chu Wanning? This isn't going to work!

At that moment, the former emperor of the human realm was not happy anymore. He grimaced and unceremoniously pulled Chen Yao, and cut in line and stood in front of the others.

The little boy behind him was taken aback for a moment, but Mo Ran quickly put on the expression of a half-dead hanged ghost with a bowed head, drooping down and mixing in with the corpses. Those golden boys and girls with low cultivation levels were in a daze, probably too dumb to figure out what had happened so they didn't react.

This time Mo Ran was happy. He followed the line with great enthusiasm, ready to walk to the end so that he could meet with Shi Mei on the other side of the corridor.

At the same time.

Chu Wanning glanced at Shi Mei standing in front of him, and thought for a while, not knowing what dangers lay ahead.

He has always been hard-spoken and soft-hearted, though harsh to the point of being repulsive. But, in fact, as long as he was there, he wouldn't put his apprentice in any kind of danger.

As a result, he also tugged Shi Mei and pulled the unconscious man behind him while he stood in Shi Mei's original position.

It was his turn.

The ghost bridesmaid standing at the end of the corridor was holding a black and red tray. Seeing Chu Wanning coming over, he chuckled, his face without facial features making a girl's crisp voice.

"Greetings and congratulations to the bride, she is beautiful and white."

Chu Wanning's face instantly darkened.

Br-Bride. . .? ? Do you have no eyes?

He looked at the blank face of the ghost bridesmaid again and held back a shout.

He really doesn't have any fucking eyes.

The ghost bridesmaid smiled and picked up the red gauze veil in the tray. Raising his jade-like arms and pale hands, he covered Chu Wanning's face. Then he stretched out his cold hand, gently held Chu Wanning, and said with a sweet smile: "Bride, if you would."

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[sereisstuff]

ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇꜱ

noun

plural noun: curses

1.

a solemn utterance intended to invoke a supernatural power to inflict harm or punishment on someone or something.

Tale of the story: Jungkook; a demigod. Fell in love with a mortal, in most stories the mortals die. What makes you think this one is any different.

Plus size reader (Not implied, but I only write for plus size readers so any, and every story on my page that I’ve written is implied, plus-size reader)

Warnings: self-inflicted harm (not intentionally) mentions of blood. Swearing? very rushed. Little dialogue at times. Angst! Fantasy.

Inspiration was when I was staring out the car window like four hours ago, so do what you will with that information. Song's I recommend is a runaway from aurora and the seed.

Not proofread

Your hair bustled in the wind, mimicking the waves before them. A deafening shriek, melodiously flowing through the air as the heavy roars of Poseidon fell before you. Oh, how you wished this day could end, it was all due to your imaginative stupidity which led you to your untimely decisions. Your curiosity piqued a much greater meaning as you stumbled upon something you shouldn’t have, something so tender that not even your callous human hands could grasp.

It was a warm day when you stumbled upon Jungkook bathing under the waterfall, by far the most exquisite figure you’ve ever laid your eyes on. It was odd, he was handsome, so handsome your mind couldn’t comprehend his features. So defined in the most perfect places but even his flaws held beauty. Something you wouldn't ever say to yourself, you were so busy lost in his exotic features that as you examined him, your once starstruck eyes turned into shocked ones.

His feet replaced by fins connecting his toes, strong legs glistening under the water almost gloss like. If you hadn't gasped aloud, you wouldn’t have caught the creature's focus. His charismatic eyes faded into anguish and he held his breath as if you would slowly forget him, which you wish he implied on you at this moment.

Jungkook was a rather charismatic being, so full of life. He told you many things, the beings he encountered, his descendancy and you were absolutely enchanted by it all. Jungkook went from being the eye that captured you to the person you needed the most. So much had happened that the dangers you encountered soon became normalised. He wasn’t a god nor was he human, he was a demigod.

And you can recall the very moment he told you…..

“You know, I’ve known you for a while now. Yet, you still can’t give me a direct answer as to what you are? Who you are? You know so much about me but I know nothing about you” you asked, it was very true. You often got lost in your rambles that by the time he watched you walk into the night back to your residency, you no longer had time to ask him who he truly was, it was almost like you forgot. Every. Single. Time.

Jungkook stared at his reflection beneath him, toes curling just before the water and he wondered. Was it truly something he wanted you to know, did he no longer honour his people's secrecy, it was as if the water would always be a part of him and just like the tides. He was pulled from his desire to feel ‘normal’, that the other part of him wanted nothing more than to run from the ocean.

“I don’t know what I am either” he spoke, voice tough in correspondence “I’m many things, to many beings. I’m a prince to countless, an heir to others. A beast of life to some, but to you and your people, I am a demigod. A halfling cursed with humanity, I’m telling you this because as we’ve ventured, I’ve given you my trust and you’ve done nothing to betray it” Jungkook's voice was soft, as always. His curious gaze lifted from beneath his fallen hairs, strayed from their roots and moved like silk from his eyes as the wind touched his bristles.

Your bottom lip curled between your teeth in thought, it wasn’t hard to believe because at this point in time. This was the least likely to be the most unbelievable.

“If you're a demigod as you say, and your source correlates with the water. Does this mean your father is….poseidon?” came your question, your needy eyes now meet by his doe ones. His brows furrowed in response as if it was hard for him to communicate.

With his intense gaze, he nodded, ever so slowly. It was a painful nod, one stricken in fear. Jungkooks charisma faded into his clouded mind and you led him astray from his defences. He didn’t enjoy this, his shared vulnerability felt unnatural, it wasn’t the way he was taught. His humanity was often correlated with Beastiality by his people and the emotions that flooded his mind felt so distant to him. It wasn’t like he feared his people, he just feared their intentions with those who they didn’t deem worthy of knowing of them.

“Then why do you seem so human-like, is this my perception of you? Am I meant to know of your existence because if that’s not the answer, must I fear for my life” you asked slowly, making sure every word you spoke made it through to him, your tendency for empathetic traits seemed to come into play and by the looks of it? It seemed sickening to him.

The sun was led astray by the clouds and your moment was soon to end, the lake he visited you was by the ocean. Covered in a deep forest with a subtle pathway of dirt to lead you back home.

Jungkook let a giggle escape his mouth towards your idiocy “You don’t need to fear for your life as long as I’m here. My mother presented herself as a human during the time she met my father, a woman with such beauty had grasped his attention. It’s hard to say why I’m like this because she herself wasn’t a human. My father says it’s because the moment they collided was what I was imaged after but these days I don’t believe much from his mouth” a slight husk to his tone deepened at the mention of his father.

“As long as you're here aye? What are you, my protector? My guardian? Jungkook my saviour” you cooed falling helplessly on his hooded chest to lighten up his dampened mood. The information was enough to suffice your curiosity, just enough to vanquish your questions and you didn’t want to risk his sadness for your rambling mind.

Jungkook lifted a ringed finger, resting it on your head in a comforting motion. Surprising you. You sat awkwardly, legs laid upon each other as you laid on his thighs unintentionally “Protector has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” He asked, his childish tone was back once more letting the serious resonance fade into the abyss of his mind once more.

“More like Jungkook the fish, when have you once protected me, it’s always me protecting you. Like that time a kid tried throwing water at you and I pushed you out of the way” You continued, feeling the heat of your cheeks fire in adornment, he never held you this intimately. Only a peck to those plush cheeks of yours and a hug, usually you were doing the hugging...

“You didn’t need to, I’m not a mermaid. A tale isn’t going to spontaneously pop out of my ass, you just made us both look like idiots” He laughed, sending you into hysterics “Let me have my saviour moment dammit, in my mind that was quite heroic of me don’t you think” you tried lifting yourself from his thigh but his grasp was too strong, that not even your head moved from his stoned hands.

“Not at all, heroism can’t even be the definition of what you did. Maybe embarrassment? Or, even better. Dumbass?” you shot up from his hand, defying his strength. Planting your hands to his side so your face was merely away from his face “I am not a dumbass, I did what I thought was right at the time, I should have let the water hit you, very very ungrateful if I may say so myself” you didn’t really notice the proximity at first, to fired in your own mind to notice Jungkook's doe eyes widen at the mere feel of your breath heating his cheeks.

Your ramble continued as he gulped, heated in nervousness. His eyes turning a pale blue, covering his chocolate brown eyes with a slight desire but mostly fear of his actions.

“Ah, y/n” he tried but you continued over him “-remember that time your fingers started doing that sticking together thing like a fin and I took my gloves off, mid-winter to cover yours which by the way. You never gave back, I don’t care because you can keep them but living under the water and all, I feel like I should have given them my final wishes at least”

Jungkook coughed, staring into your eyes, placing a soft hand onto your hips in hopes of it grasping your attention “By the way, were you trying to make a mako mermaid reference and I’m only just getting it now because that would make me feel like a dumbass, which I’m not. I’m not implying that you are either because you're smart but you're also a dick” Your words were switching so fast that he panicked and planted a kiss onto your soft plump lips.

Oh, how warm they felt, your eyes widened in shock. Feeling his soft lips move rhythmically against your own, unable to comprehend his movements as you stared at his thick lashes coating his lids, finally sinking into his tender touch.

Jungkooks fairly large hands are planted on your wide hips, his touch so tender in fear of hurting you. Even his kisses lingered on your lips as he struggled to move from their enchantment.

From that moment onwards you both lingered on the thought of it, treating the other more softly. Graciously, he treated you like a porcelain doll in fear of losing you. He always kept one hand clasped to your own, for what he called his mystical rope.

But moments like that also end in tragedy because even if you found love. Your demise soon followed you to your meeting place, in hopes of seeing him by the dock you awaited. Staring dreamily at the moon above you, your eyes playing with the stars surrounding it and your heart warmed at the tranquillity falling before you, everything seemed to be so full of majesty.

You were so lost in a daze that you didn’t notice the feet pandering behind you, a hooded figure stood before you, lips uncovered but eyes hidden in disguise. This moment wouldn’t have scared you, unmatched to yours and Jungkook's odd adventures, still, the knife they had in their hand glistened under the moonlight and that made your heart race scarcely.

“Y/n?” they asked, voice full of femininity.

You nodded, eyes in search of their own. “Lighten up, I’m not here to hurt you” they laughed, removing their hood painfully slowly, revealing a young woman. Mid-fifties with healthy skin and strands falling down her face with the colour of lightning streaks befalling them, her doe eyes and thin brows reminded you of something but as you gazed into her eyes, you felt the fear vanquish.

“Who are you?” you asked, it seemed as if you’d been doing that often nowadays.

The hooded woman sat beside you, her large, golden streaked blanket resting on her slender shoulders fell like a pool surrounding her due to its thickness. It seemed warm on the inside. “I am no one.” she gave, wisely making you roll your eyes “no one? Everybody's someone” you replied, disliking the ungiving answer she so happily gifted you.

Her slender jaw spread as she released a mocking laugh “Darling, some want to be perceived as someone. I am the embodiment of no one, by now I know your shock is an action of acting. I know of your adventures, I know of your discovery. So take me as I am because I may come back in a different form next time around; the concept of matter is how you mould it, when you are matter, you are anything.”

“You are no one” you repeated in hushed whispers, to which she hummed in reply “-yes, I come as a heathing warning for you my dear” her long black hair swished like magic around her but she was so unfathomed by it, by everything. You couldn’t even feel her energy, her being was untraceable, it was almost like she was a concept of unperception “a warning? First, you stand before me with a knife, then you lecture me on matter and now I’m receiving a warning for something I may not have even don-”

“No, not of what you have done. What you’ve meddled in, as you may know. The prince you're waiting for” she was cut off by you immediately “How did you kn-”

“I’m speaking” she demanded, she flicked her slender fingers in the with fast-paced movements, the advancement made your posture straighten and your mouth shut, ziplocked “I heath a fate made warning; A prince will someday meet his demise, secrecy is leaked and unfathomable death may plague all lands unless the loved are sacrificed. Unlike many, whom may not understand that. I come to you in the form he was conceived in, despite never appearing before him. I have come to you, I have deciphered the riddle for your understanding. Jungkook has always been the son of the cursed. Unless you sacrifice yourself for him”

“I know your love for him is prudent and rooted in for all of eternity so I ask you this? Is your love so strong that you're willing to lay down your life and wait for him in the next? Or are you so obsessed with what he is that your love is a manifestation of your unlived fantasies' ' she spoke with such anger, your breathing elevated as the moon disappeared within the clouds and her eyes turned a bright blue with black surroundings. Her hair floated in the air and she once more reversed her curse she placed on you, watching you fall to the floor, coughing from the unused air within your lungs.

“What’s it to you? Yo-you were never there for him. He grew motherless, your sudden support seems awfully unwilling” you screamed, her power raised the winds and the tides grew with it. “You know nothing of magick my dear, scream all you want but what’s set in stone cannot be changed by faith. I protect him from the shadows and nurture him from afar. He doesn’t need me, he’s a prince, a son of a god. He can handle himself.”

She stood, using her power to light up the sky around you in an array of lighting. Strong her movements were, the tips of her fingers swirled as a barricade of wind surrounded you both, blocking the outside world off, the anger rising around you couldn’t be heard from your standing point and your fear suddenly grew. Was what she said true? Were you merely going to be a sacrifice in fate?

“Do you love my son?” she asked, this time. Her hands placed on your cheeks, warming them and disclosing your fear. You didn’t hesitate, nodding your head almost immediately, causing her saddened doe eyes to close, squeezed shut in thought. Her cries kept from her throat and she apologised “I’m so sorry for this.” She whispered. Suddenly, her hands lit and your mind eradicated into an unfathomable pain, but just as it arrived. It also left and instantaneously you felt trapped.

You watched from within your eyes, as she gifted you her golden knife. Placing her soft forehead against your own, whispering sweet nothings until she backed away and looked atop into the sky before slowly disappearing into the air like ash.

“No, no, no” you repeated watching as you unleash a cut on your skin.

It was a quick, swift moment. The knife pierced at your skin and sliced your innocence, it was damn near painful but your mind was so overrun with memories that the pain you inflicted upon yourself felt no less painful than the crack in your heart. It was a damned ending from the beginning but just like most, happy beginnings end horribly because it’s too good to be near true.

You were mortified by what was to come but just like the pain of birth, the pain of new beginnings and the entrance to humanity. Death could mimic its transition and your boat was rocking. But you didn’t regret any of it, you knew the moment he told you of what was to come that this was your sacrifice, your tears watering the board creaking beneath you as the raging waves swindled the currents beneath you, at this point. It no longer felt like you were endangered by anything, your trapped consciousness merged into one and you walked to the edge of the dock.

Rivers of blood trickled down your arms and you cried from within, just a moment ago you awaited your love’s arrival but now you’ve become his only path of living. It was all unfair.

But just like that, your will vanished and you fell. The drop wasn’t too far but you did, your hair sunken into the water, the tides pulling you further beneath its weight and you felt weightless. It felt serene, the suffocation of your lungs was unkempt but then again, you couldn’t feel anything. Not even the siren screamed before you as Jungkook saw your floating body and silken blood dragging from your arms like leashes. The gash inside of your belly was doing its unholy work.

He had you in his arms, strongly wrapped behind your head and your waist as he stared at you, eyes stricken in fear and pain, shooting from the wanted with you in his arms, landing on any near-surface. Using his arms as a shield from your pain, he couldn’t understand the sudden change in environment but he knew of whom when he saw your floating body.

All he saw was red.

The rain began to fall from the sky, masking his hefty tears from his eyes. He couldn’t see your breathing so he reached a hand above your mouth, whispering incantations as his tips felt the water pile, lifting from your purple lips and a cough escaping your mouth.

“Come on, y/n. You can’t do this to me, not now” He cried sullenly, “please” he pleaded, resting a head on your cheek, the once tender warmth released with thin streaks of breathing and ice-cold skin, his cries mimicked the thunder as he rested his hand against your stomach praying to the ocean for strength, he no longer cared about himself because in a world without you, there wasn’t a world of hope. Of adventure, of love. He couldn’t bear the thought and if you left, he would too.

He screamed a growl like one as his hands lit in blue, heavy harshed breaths escape his mouth and his heart patterned. He didn’t care for the wind prickling at his raised hairs, the lightning striking before him because if he could save you, he couldn’t save himself.

“Please, breath baby. Please.” he sobbed.

The wounds barely healed as he leant an air against your chest, unable to hear your lively heart. Breaking him further “Why, why her out of all people. Why not me, out of all people you took the one person willing to love me” He wailed into the sky, falling against your corpse body. His tears falling against your salty face.

“Just five more minutes would have felt like an eternity more if you gave me the chance.”

He curled up beside you in the rain, ignoring the storm happening around him. His arm wrapped around your flat body as he sunk into your neck with loud sobs. His smile broke from him and the strings to his heart no longer played its serene melodies as he saw you, riddled with death.

It was churning, moments ago you awaited his love. His oddly cold warmth he provided and now you laid in the eye of all rage. Your thoughts are alive once more, but faintly. Just like the faint beat of your heart that caught the attention of your lover. His weakened hands pushed his body up and laid an ear against your heart, the strum of your strings beating once more gifted him something more, life couldn’t leave your body just yet.

His tears stuck to your face and the magic within them, secured into your veins and simultaneously he watched your wounds turn into sigils of protection, scarred into your body. Your breathing returned as Jungkook hovered above you, his fin-like hands placed beside your messy strands as he tucked the swindled roots behind your pierced ears, awaiting for your eyes to open once more.

“Am I just that important” you whispered barely, the movement of your lips made him laugh in joy. His breathing heightened as his chest pumped in and out.

He gripped your cheeks making you hiss in pain “shit, sorry” he muttered, still eccentric in glee. Just like the sea, you wanted to continue living so you fought fate. The comfort of your lovers' hands against your stricken features was extremely comforting and just like that, the heavy rain turned into hushed whisps.

“I promise to never leave your side again, never” he promised as he straddled your head within his strong arms.

“Fine by me” you coughed, voice still weakened by the taste of death.

Jungkook laughed, staring into the sky with hatred. One day he would get his revenge but for now, his focus was solely on you, and only you “I should have known better, I’m so sorry” he apologised frantically, you placed a hand on his naked arm, shocked that all this time he wasn’t clothed “It’s okay, Jungkook. It’s not your fault”

“You're wondering if I’m cold, goddamit y/n. You were dying and you're worried about me”

You shoved his head weakly “leave me alone, it’s hard not to worry about someone you love”

Jungkook pecked your cheek, tiredly “I love you too”

[mochimiyas]

don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms

summary: interviewer: “when did you realize that miya osamu no longer loved you the same way he did in the beginning?”

warnings: angst, mentions of depression, implied cheating, mentions of miya atsumu and suna rintarou

pairings: timeskip!miya osamu x reader

a/n: i just woke up today and chose violence uwu. content is under the cut!

-

‘what a coincidence...’ you pondered to yourself as you looked outside your window, the condensation making it hard for you to make out the figures running to their homes, cars rushing to their destination for the day. it rarely rained during the spring in hyogo. normally hyogo had warm, yet refreshing cool breezes; it always felt as if spring was gently guiding you through their season.

today... seemed different. 

your normal morning routine didn’t wake you up the way it usually does. you woke up 5 minutes later than your alarm clock, throwing you off your balance as you rushed to shut that annoying beeping noise. groaning, you threw your comforter out of the way and placed your feet on the cold, cold tiles, seeking warmth in your fuzzy slippers. 

they weren’t in the place they should be in. 

your senses started to fully awaken, and you finally took in the state of your room. work clothes thrown haphazardly on your love seat in the corner, your slippers sitting nice and prettily against the door to your bathroom. 

why was everything so out of place?

confusion started to settle in your features as you walked up to your restroom, feet snuggling into your slippers as you flicked on the light, your reflection staring hauntingly back at you. letting out a sigh, you continued the rest of your morning routine, hoping to get rid of the uneasy feeling settling in your bones. 

-

click. clack. click. 

every click and clack of their shoes gnawed at the back of your conscience, the slight tremble in your figure starting to feel overwhelming as you looked up, standing to greet the interviewer as they did the same. 

sick, you just felt sick to your stomach at their smile. 

“thank you so much for coming to the interview! here at as/is japan, we want to expand and broaden japan’s society, showing our audience that anyone, including celebrities and every day people, that everyone goes through similar issues. we’re hoping through this video that we can convey that they’re not alone in this, and we’re all in this together,” they explained, gesturing to the group of people being ushered into the waiting rooms to get prepped. 

you laughed nervously, “i hope so as well. it’s a very thoughtful video for you guys to prepare for your audience.”

the sound of the clapperboard startled you, the director behind the camera holding up three fingers, slowly counting down before the camera started rolling. 

the interviewer cleared their throat and pointed to the camera, indicating to maintain eye contact with the device. 

they started. 

[today at as/is japan, we asked questions about their relationships and why it ended. we’re going over the topic of heartbreak today. so please, introduce yourself.]

“my name is y/n. i used to be in a relationship for six years with the owner of onigiri miya, miya osamu. we ended our relationship last year in march.”

[i’m sorry to hear that but wow! you dated one of the miya twins. how was it dating the famous miya osamu?]

“it was just amazing. i didn’t care for the fact he was famous, and we started dating way before he opened his restaurant; i believe it was our third year when we finally sealed the deal, haha. miya-san is kind, super attentive, and just overall a great man. anyone would be so lucky to have him.”

[gosh, he really does live up to the name. miya osamu is truly known to be the quiet one compared to his brother, but i’ve always thought twins would have the same personality y’know?]

“right? i thought the same when i first met them at the beginning of high school, and until i started hanging out with them, my perspective has changed.” 

[good to know. moving on, what caused your relationship to fall?]

“...it was our third year anniversary. we somewhat had a routine when it came to our anniversary. we always went to awaji island early in the morning to rent a boat and fish for the day. he and i really enjoy basking in nature, so it was ideal for the both of us. when i woke up at the usual time, i usually snuggle with him before we have to get ready.”

“when i woke up, he wasn’t there, and it was downhill from there.”

[a-ah, y/n-san you don’t have to continue if you don’t feel comfortable. here, a tissue.]

sniff. “thank you, but i would like to continue.”

[as you wish. may i ask what’s happened since your third year anniversary?]

“he... osa- miya-san slowly, but surely stopped being affectionate with me. mornings that were filled with loving kisses turned to waking up alone. lunches that used to be spent together were now filled with empty promises and excuses, saying he had plans to eat lunch with someone else. truthfully, i didn’t think too much of it, and kept supporting him from the sidelines, even if it meant not being able to see him as much.” 

gasps overloaded your senses. [when did you realize that miya osamu no longer loved you the same way as he did in the beginning?]

pause.

“i... fuck, i need to get my shit together.” 

you took a moment to breathe.

in, and out. in, and out.

“on our six year anniversary, i tried to set up our usual routine, and it seemed like he was on board with it. for the past three years, miya-san made excuses, saying things like, ‘i need to meet up with a rep from an investment company,’ or ‘i made a promise to atsumu and rin to meet up with them.’ i could give less shit if it was an ordinary day but it was our anniversary for fucks sake! i had so much hope that he would stay, wake up in bed with me, do our usual, and just be with each other for once.”

in, and out. in and out, in-

“i woke up to an empty space right next to me. it was barely warm, so it meant that he’s been out for a while. i remember being so fucking angry, so torn up inside. how could he flake on me again? i walked to the restroom and saw his phone on the sink counter. i didn’t think too much of it until his phone lit up, and i saw a preview of a message he received. i knew right then and there that this relationship was done for good, so i packed all of my stuff and left without a trace. blocked him and all of his friends on everything and moved away.”

[is there anything you would like to say to our audience, and quite possibly miya-san if he’s watching this?]

“to the as/is japan fans, thank you for tuning in. i hope you all know that you’re not alone, and even the nicest people in this world can be scum bags. my advice to everyone is to make sure you’re in a relationship where one isn’t sacrificing more than the other, and that your happiness isn’t defined by theirs. i’ve always thought whenever miya-san was happy, i was too yet there was still a void in my heart every time i questioned it; make sure it’s genuine and real. and as for miya-san...”

ahem. 

“miya osamu. i don’t hate you, and i never will. i’ve forgiven you a long time ago. truthfully speaking, the day he told us that he would be trying out for teams in tokyo and i saw that look in your eyes, i knew i would never be enough yet i kept on trying. for six years, i’ve chased after you to make you stay while you had eyes for him, traveling to set up your stands at his games. you even had the audacity to invite me to one of his games. i wish you could’ve ended it when you realized it because to this day, i... i’m still in love with you unfortunately, and i don’t know if i ever will stop. please stop searching for me. i just want to be left alone and for him, i hope you make osamu happy.”

wiping your tears, you bowed towards the camera, faintly hearing the clapperboard as you stood up. you bowed once again to the crew members and made your way to the exit, the sound of the light shower soothing your senses. looking up, you smiled. 

‘what a coincidence...’ you pondered to yourself as you saw the sun shyly peeking out from gray, murky clouds. 

- 

gray eyes stared blankly at the outro of the video, the screen illuminating his grave features. 

he brought his hand up to wipe the tears on his sunken cheeks, the action causing for more tears to leak out. miya osamu finally felt the consequences of his actions catch up to him, and he couldn’t take it any longer. every single word that left your lips, your sad smile; it felt as if there were thousands upon thousands of needles pricking his heart. 

to hear that you still loved him, yet didn’t want to do anything with him, killed him inside. 

... “i’m so fuckin’ sorry y/n, i’m so fuckin’ sorry-”

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (2) || atz

“All the dried fruit has been accounted for.”

You fight down the yelp that had almost left your mouth, trying to quieten your breathing as much as possible. Two men, from the sound of their voices, are inspecting the food stocks. You’re going to be found.

“How much salted fish?” The deeper, lower voice you heard giving commands earlier asks his partner, and you pick up the sound of a pen scratching across paper.

“Enough to last us two weeks, if Jongho doesn’t eat them all by the first.” The second voice, softer and gentler, quips and they both share a laugh.

“That kind smile hides a darker mind beneath, Seonghwa-hyung.” The speaker with the deeper voice comments with a rolling chuckle. You’re still frozen in fear as they continue to take inventory, but them finding you is inevitable.

“How much alcohol did we get?” The person she assumes to be Seonghwa asks and you hear the sound of barrels shifting. “San needs some of it to treat the wounded.”

“Enough rum to last us till Tortuga and some wine and beer on the side.” His partner replied, writing some more things down. “I’m sure we can spare a barrel or two, not many of them got injured.”

“That’s a relief.” You can hear the worry leave Seonghwa’s voice, but your panic levels are jumping as you hear them move ever closer to you. “I heard Yunho didn’t have a scratch on him.”

“Neither did Jongho.” The other man snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already down here, chomping his way through the apples. Look, the sacking fell. I’ll get it.”

And suddenly the sackcloth is pulled away from your head.

You don’t have time to think. Lunging forward, you headbutt the man who removed the sackcloth from you in the face and you hear him let out a howl of pain, letting go of the sacking to clutch his bleeding nose. Your eyes dart around desperately for an escape route, but before you can move, someone slams you against the wall, the tip of a razor sharp knife pressed to your throat.

“Don’t move.” It’s the softer man, Seonghwa, although his grey eyes are hard as stone now. You can’t look away, transfixed, and he continues to speak, eyes never leaving yours. “Mingi, you alright?”

The man he addresses has a long, face with strong, defined features and narrowed eyes, tiny braids done in his cerulean blue hair. He’s tall, taller than you by about a head. He gives you a resentful scowl. “I think he broke my nose.” The words come out thickly as the man you now know to be Mingi cups both hands over his face, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Then it hits you.

He?

It’s true you’re not especially curvy and your chest has been bound by strips of cloth, but you didn’t expect to fool people so easily.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to choke out. Seonghwa and Mingi exchange surreptitious glances.

“You should get San to look at that, Mingi.” Seonghwa advises, worry written all over his face. Mingi nods wearily, blood falling through the cracks in his fingers and staining the ground.

“Let’s get this kid to Hongjoong-hyung first.” The taller man sighs, grabbing you by the shoulder with a bloody hand and pushing you towards the stairs you had tumbled down from. Pain lances up your ankle, but you steel yourself and step on it anyway.

It’s excruciating, but you don’t dare to show any weakness. They might toss you overboard. Or feed you to the sharks. You don’t know and you really don’t want to find out.

You bite on the inside of your cheek so hard you taste blood, but you manage to make it onto the main deck. Many faces turn and look upon you with surprise, then they see Mingi bleeding from the nose and their expressions turn threatening. One even draws his sword.

You flinch back into Seonghwa, who steadies you by the shoulders, while Mingi addresses the crew.

“I’m fine!” He shouts through his bloody nose, which obviously isn’t fine. “Everyone back to work, please.”

There’s a disconcerting silence as if they’re still planning on how to kill you in every way possible, but they eventually turn back to their work cleaning the cannons and securing the sheets. Mingi turns back to you.

“This way.” He says gruffly, pulling you up another flight of stairs, Seonghwa at the rear. You bite back another whimper of pain, but Seonghwa hears it.

On the quarter deck, you catch sight of a man at the wheel. He’s young, almost your age, dressed all in red with patchwork black pants. His ash blonde hair falls into his eyes and the back is done in a neat mullet. But the most eye catching thing about him is the black eye patch he has over his right eye, the confidence he stands with despite his age and how he’s steering the ship as if the oceans bow at his feet.

Something in him calls out to you.

“Hongjoong-ah, we found a stowaway in the cargo hold.” Seonghwa calls over you shoulder as Mingi forces you to your knees. The man at the wheel doesn’t take his eye off the sea for a moment, pulling a length of rope from around his waist and lashing the wheel in position. Only then does he turn around.

“Mingi, take the helm- What happened to you, Mingi?” The helmsman’s voice is almost an entire octave higher than Mingi’s, almost too cute to be a pirate’s. His eyes rake over the bloody nose on Mingi’s face, before his expression settles into a frown.

“Got headbutted by our stowaway here.” Mingi jerks a thumb at your face and Hongjoong’s one eye follows it down, coming to rest on you. His fingers dance on the hilt of one of the two cutlasses hanging at his hip.

You gulp. “I said I was sorry.” You mutter under your breath.

Hongjoong’s eye drills into you, a calm, unbothered smile on his face that terrifies you more than if he were furious. “Well, I guess I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I?” The side of his lips pull up in a smirk. “This ship is the Treasure and we’re the pirate band ATEEZ. I’m Kim Hongjoong, the helmsman and captain of this ship.”

At that, your mouth falls open. This man can’t be any more than twenty two, but he’s the captain? Hongjoong nods at the dumbstruck expression on your face, the chilling smile never leaving his face. “What about you, Royal Navy scum?”

Seonghwa and Mingi’s expressions change to shock in seconds and Seonghwa even begins to draw that wicked long kitchen knife from his belt.

You pause at that. “Royal Navy?” Your lips pull downwards in a frown. What is the Royal Navy?

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Hongjoong’s not smiling now and you feel the air drop several degrees. Your teeth want to start chattering but you force a terrified smile on your face. Hongjoong’s eyebrows lower into a frown.

“The coat you are wearing is of Royal Navy make. An officer’s, I might add. It may be beaten and torn up, but I’d recognize that rose insignia anywhere.” He jerks his chin at the red patches on the shoulders. Sure enough, you can see the rose stitched into the fabric. “So what is your purpose here? If you answer truthfully I might simply shoot you instead of having you flogged to death.”

He doesn't sound like he's joking.

Goosebumps race along your skin and you know that your face has drained of colour. You don’t even remember your own name, how are you supposed to remember where you got this stupid coat? So you start rambling.

“Okay actually I just woke up this morning in the prison of the town you guys just looted like a while ago and I kind of don’t remember how I got there so like they were talking about bringing me to the gallows for some kind of public hanging and I don’t really know why they wanted to hang me so when you attacked I just tried to escape and ended up in the harbor so I ran up the first ship I saw which was your ship and tried to get away from the fighting so I went into the cargo hold and fell asleep there so yeah.”

There's a pause.

“What?” Mingi blinks. You open your mouth to repeat it when Hongjoong holds up a hand. You close your mouth with a clop.

“Seonghwa, go help San take care of the wounded.” He orders and Mingi stiffens as if they’ve breached some kind of taboo conversation topic. The other man visibly relaxes and exhales shakily, nodding. “Yes, captain.” Then he turns around and makes his way down to the main deck.

Hongjoong turns back to you with a calm gaze. “So, according to you, you can’t remember why they would throw a Royal navy officer such as yourself into prison?”

“I’m not a Royal Navy officer.” You retort with a scowl, meeting his gaze angrily. When he raises an eyebrow, you catch yourself, swallow and lower your head. “I’m sorry.”

“Well this is certainly the most interesting story we’ve heard from a captured Royal Navy officer, haven’t we, Mingi?” Hongjoong muses to himself, running his tongue across his lips. Mingi nods apathetically.

“He’s also the youngest.” The quartermaster adds on to the back unhelpfully.

“Tell me, what exactly did you intend to do after escaping onto my ship?” He leans back with a smile, as if expecting some silly answer. You don’t have any smart ones, so you answer honestly.

“I really wasn’t thinking that far.”

Sighing dramatically at your lackluster answer, Hongjoong nods again. His one eye is a vivid green, like a poisonous snake’s that could sink its fangs into you at any moment. He seems to be contemplating something. Then he lifts your chin with a finger so that you meet his eyes even as you try to squirm away.

“Well then, Mister I’m-Not- A-Royal-Navy-Officer.” The young captain wears that same chilling smile again, and it doesn’t make you feel any better. “How about this? We’ll tie you to the mainmast so everyone can keep watch over you and we’ll feed you enough to survive, but the moment we stop at Tortuga, I’m tossing you onto shore. If I find out that you’re one of the Royal Navy swine at any moment...”

There’s a click and suddenly there’s a musket pointed at your temple. Your body seizes up in rapid panic, blood freezing over in your veins. You hadn’t even seen him move.

“I’ll gut you like a stuck pig.” His voice is warm and smooth, right next to your ear. You don’t even realize you’re trembling until he steps back, holstering the musket in his belt with an amused smile on his face. “I’d shoot you for breaking Mingi’s nose like that, but I suppose that it won’t matter if I’m going to kill you in the end anyway. Mingi, secure the boy to the mainmast and make sure not a single man on board touches him, then get San to look at your nose.”

“I got it.” Mingi sounds almost annoyed at being babied with the repeated advice, but Hongjoong just laughs.

“I’m interested to see how long you can keep this facade up, pretty boy. Don’t worry about anything.” Hongjoong’s grin is terrifying, wild like the raging sea as he strides back to the wheel, boots clicking on the deck.

“When it finally breaks, I’ll be the one to end it all for you.”

That’s the last thing you hear before Mingi marches you down to the main deck.

You’re still freezing from the chilling encounter with the young pirate captain as Mingi pushes you towards the main mast. Even the pain in your ankle doesn’t seem to compare with the numbing terror of Hongjoong’s threat. You slump in shock against the main mast as Mingi looks upwards into the rigging.

“Yunho-ah, toss me some rope!”

Seconds later, a coil of rope slithers down the mast and Mingi wraps it around your upper torso securing your arms and torso to the mast. It’s loose enough not to cut off the circulation in your arms, but tight enough to ensure you won’t be going anywhere. And honestly, where can you go? As far as the eye can see, it’s all ocean.

You thought that escaping the gallows had been a smart move. Now it seems like you threw yourself from the frying pan into the flames.

Go home, the voice in your head whispers. You tell it to shut up savagely.

Mingi finally announces to everyone that they are not to make eye contact with you, speak to you, or have any form of interaction with you as he finishes off with several skillful knots at the back.

“That includes physical contact like beating or throwing things at him.” Mingi adds on and there’s a collective sigh of disappointment from the crew.

“You sure, quartermaster?” One of the men at the cannons pulls out his musket. “An eye for an eye, he did make you bleed!”

The rest of the crew shouts agreement, but Mingi shakes his head firmly.

“We’re pirates, not barbarians.” He chides, wiping his nose once more. The blood flow seems to have slowed to a steady trickle at least. “It’s my fault for being unprepared. Besides, these are Hongjoong’s orders. Any of you want to answer to captain?”

“Absolutely not!” The crewman declares and the deck breaks out in carefree laughter. Mingi gives a tiny smile as he straightens up from tying your bonds.

Something in your chest tugs painfully.

“Well then, don’t get me into trouble with captain.” He waves them back to their work and they do so cheerfully, all the tension in the air gone. Then Mingi turns back to you with a stern scowl.

“From what you can see, the crew isn’t exactly happy with you.” He gestures at the deck with one of his long arms. “I’d suggest you keep your mouth shut if you want to make it to Tortuga alive.”

And then he turns and leaves you alone with your thoughts, a lonely stranger on a foreign ship.

[cuddlesslut]

Live my Life Ch.1

Kuroo x fem reader

Summary: sometimes life is full of making the wrong choices and not knowing till it’s to late.

A/N: this is chapter one of my new story. I’m still writing the Home series I must really wanted to start this story as well. I hope you guys like this one.

Warning: Angst, Smut, Drunk Sex, Underage drinking, toxic behavior

You found yourself sitting in this dingy bar nursing a drink you weren’t supposed to have. This had become part of your routine. It all started about three weeks ago. Your friend Kana, or well you suppose she could be called a friend she was more of a friend of a friend. She seemed nice enough kind of the free spirit type of girl always into the new big trend, not really what you would describe yourself as, more of what you wanted to be. You weren’t exactly some shy shut in but still your anxieties held you back from charging head first into in life and taking the bull by the horns. That’s why you surprised even yourself when you offered to be Kana’s bar buddy.

Kana is bartender at this whole in the wall bar with dim lighting. It got fairly good business but not enough to warrant more than one bartender at a time. That being the case Kana would often be there by herself well late into the night, the neighborhood wasn’t horrible but it still was unsettling sometimes. So as her bar buddy you would come at some point in her shift and find a free seat at the bar hopefully far enough distance from any other patrons. You’d order some fries or whatever greasy snack food you craved and waited there with her while she worked until she was ready to lock up. It was pretty easy you’d just sit there offering her someone to talk when she was bored or when she need to escape some overbearing customers. She’d make her way over too you and pretend to make you a drink. Although she offered you a drink you usually turn her down for the clear fact that you were underage when it came to drinking. It was perfectly fine for you to sit in the establishment since it also served food but at the age of 18 drinking was still prohibited. Being the laid back girl and bartender she was Kana didn’t care about bending that rule for a friend.

Most nights you’d pull out some school work on your tablet that your carried with you or just read some stories on your phone. Usually trying your best to avoid conversation with the regulars. That didn’t work as well as you hoped and soon enough you were quickly learning all of the local gossip and being included in the group known as the regulars. Which is what you were since you found yourself here four nights out of you week. You didn’t mind spending so much of your time here with Kana it was kind of nice to stray from your comfort zone plus you and Kana were steadily getting closer as friends too. Everything was smooth sailing until you met him.

It was a usual Thursday night you got dressed in your causal but sleek outfit. Wearing a comfortable pair of Jeans that hugged your body nicely not too tight but still showed your curves. You paired it with a black blouse and black ankle boots. You freshened up your make up of the day not needing to try to hard seeing as you weren’t going there to impress anyone. In fact you preferred to not draw any attention. Your brushed through your hair finally heading out of your home and too the dingy bar. Things seemed a little off tonight some felt different but still you took your usual seat as you scanned the bar. It was fairly empty only two other customers sitting all the way at the other end of the counter. Kana wasn’t anywhere to be found, she’s probably just grabbing something back you reasoned. And sure enough you could hear a clang in the back of the establishment that was hidden from the public eye. Although it wasn’t Kana that popped around the corner. Instead stood a tall and extremely handsome guy. He was wild black hair that was strewn in a chaotic fashion but it suited him. You could tell by his physique that he was fit , not too overly muscular but when he reached up to put the box he was carrying on the top shelf you could see a peak of a very well defined v line on his tanned skin. This man was the definition of tall, dark ,and handsome. And that wasn’t even mentioning his intense honey eyes that felt like they pierced your soul with just one look. He wore a black pair of fitted jeans and a red button up with strange print on it. You could inspect the odd design more intensely as he approached you with a smirk plastered on his face. Ah they were little black cats that littered his print. The style screamed I’m stylish but quirky.

“Well hello there sweetheart how can I help you?” You could tell he was using his customer service persona. Ah he goes for the smooth talkng flirt, he probably does very well with middle aged woman, you think.

“Um yeah,” you state giving the room one more look “ do you know where Kana is?” You questioned.

His perked at the mention of your friend. You could see him relax a little as he released some tension rolling his shoulders back. “Ahh you must be YN,” he smiled placing his hands on the bar leaning forward. His voice was a notch higher no longer Using his deep Casanova tone, this one was more natural. You eyes widened at the sound of your name leaving his lips.

“Yeah,” you replied hesitant.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,” he presented his hand offering a firm shake to which you awkwardly accepted. “I’m guessing Kana forgot to inform you that id becoming back to work my usual Thursday shift today did she?” He let out a small chuckle.

Damn it Kana you cursed inside your mind. You could have been cozy in bed right now. “Ha nope she did not,” you let out a sigh. “I didn’t realize she was just covering these last few weeks” you respond.

“She just had my Thursday shift Mondays and Wednesdays are still her regular days.” He grinned “she was nice enough to take my shift while I was out with some family stuff.”

“Ahh I see, well I’ll should probably get out of your hair,” you stated starting to slide off the stool.

“Hey wait you came all the way out here let me get you a drink,” he offered.

You froze in your seat for a moment kind of embarrassed. You felt heat creep to your face as you respond “ oh umm I’m not actually old enough I’m only 18,” your eye locked on the surface in front of you.

He let out a chuckle “let me see your ID.”

Your face scrunched in confusion “but-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Shh just hand it over,” he smiles. You raise your eyebrow as you reach into your handbag fishing out your ID and handing it over. He backs upmholding it as though it was valid. “Well look at that! Sure enough you’re 20,” he gives a cheeky smile “so what can I get you to drink?”

You take back your card placing it back safely in your bag a look of shock present on your youthful features. You lean forward whispering “won’t you get in trouble!” Not wanting to have someone risk their job. He lets out a haughty laugh. “My dads the owner so I’m not too worried.” He stated cockily. “So again what are you drinking sweetheart?” Again he flashed that stupid smirk that sent your stomach doing flips.

After two drinks and some idle chit chat in his free time you decided it probably be best if you headed out. He was quick to stop you. “Ahh come on dont leave so soon I was hoping you’d be my bar buddy too,” he pouted. You rolled your eyes at his teasing. It was enough to keep you there though ordering another drink to nurse. It felt nice chatting and casually flirting with this attractive stranger.

This too became part of your routine. You still went to the bar during Kana’s shift to keep her company but you kept going on Thursday and spending you night talking to Kuroo. The both of you spending most of the night getting to know each other. It was just surface things like school, you found out he was two years older than you going to a university near by studying chemical engineering,and your taste in music which was something you had a lot in common. The conversation focused mainly on you. He always directed the flow of the conversation he was so out going and smooth, always asking questions about your day liked hearing about your day as if being a 3rd year in high school was the most exciting thing. You’d sit there for hours with him trying new drinks sometimes finding yourself leaving the bar at three am as if you didn’t have class in four hours. But you didn’t care it was exhilarating this was the most rebellious thing you had ever done. The flirting was harmless never going to far. And although you wouldn’t admit you were getting a crush on the raven haired bartender.

It was just another Wednesday night but today something inside of you told you to dress up more than you’d usually go for. Tonight you wore a simple black dress with a deep neckline that really showed your figure without being to flashy. Your period had recently finished so knowing you were securely dried up you decided to go for a pair of your fancy red lace panties and a matching bra that always boosted your confidence. Not that anyone would be seeing them. You checked yourself one last time before heading out to the bar and damn did you look hot.

When you entered the bar you were surprised to it was rather busy with customers all over the place, luckily you find a seat at the bar. You noticed that Kenma was also behind the bar. Kenma was the other bartender that worked the shifts opposite of Kana and Kuroo. He was also Kuroo’s best friend. You’ve only met him a couple times when he’d come to the bar to see Kuroo while he was on shift. It must be really busy if they called him in to work the bar with Kana.

Kana gave a sigh of relief and smiled as she saw you sitting at the bar. “Oh my god girl hey,” smiled “do you see how hectic it is?” She laughed. She took a moment to fully look you over her eyes wide.

“Damn girl you look fucking hot!” You felt some pride grow in you hearing your friend complement you. She always looked amazing so hearing that she thought you looked great felt like high praise.

“You want a drink babe?” She asked although it was more a of statement as she was already whipping together a drink before you were finished nodding. She handed you a strong yet sweet drink before she was whisked away by some needy patrons.

You sipped on your drink watching Kana handle the crowd. You and Kenmas eyes would lock every now and then but it’s very short and awkward. You don’t know him very well. Part of your anxieties had you convinced he didn’t like you. But you tried not to read into it to much. Kuroo had told you once that it was just that he wasn’t much of a people person only working at the bar as a favor to Kuroo and his father. You sit there silently observing the world around you not noticing someone taking the seat next to you.

“Boo,” a husky voiced whispered into your ear sending shivers down your spine. Kuroo cackled as you jumped turning around clutching your chest.

“What the hell Kuroo!” You gasped trying to steady your breathing. “They call you in too?” You ask referring to the booming business you sat in.

“Nah it’s my day off and I wanted to come have a drink and bug Kenma,” he rose his hand singling said man for a drink. “But looks like I lucked out now I get to bother you all night,” he smirked.

“Oh really and who said I want to have you around I deal with you enough on Thursdays,” you smiled back with a sly look.

He feigned a look of hurt. “Ouch YN you wound me, I thought we were friends,” giving you look that definitely didn’t come off as just friendly. You just roll your eyes trying to hide your intrigue. “Well it seems I need to prove my friendship to you let me by you a drink.” He rested his hand on yours as he signaled for a refill on your drink.

You should have seen it coming but you acted surprised when after several drinks and a couple rounds of shots you found yourself in the back seat of his car. Your red panties tossed to the side somewhere in the vehicle. You were laying back as he dove under the hem your dress. Kuroo looked up to your face his lips barley an inch away from your heat. He had a devious look on his face as he watched your face flush with need. Your lips were swollen from the heated make out sessions you had outside the bar. He quirked his eyebrow teasingly his heavy breath tickling you. He was waiting. It was almost tortuous but you knew what he wanted.

You pouted your chest rising and falling from your hard breathing. “Please!” You begged. He smiled content with hearing your pleas before diving into you his tongue lapping at your wet folds. Your head fell back in pleasure as he ate you out like a man starved. Your moans filled the car as he worked his skilled tongue in and out of you. He could feel how close you were as he felt you clench around his fingers as he worked you loose. Relief flooded your body as you came on his face. Lust still flooding you as you watched him lick up all your juices. He moved up your body sealing your lips into a searing kiss you could taste your essence on his lips.

Your hands reached down his body grabbing at his bulge. He let out a groan in your ear before picking you up and placing you on his lap. He attacked you neck nippping and sucking harsh purple marks into your skin. He pulled the collar of your dress down pulling your breast out . Moving your bra down he latched his lips around your swollen nipple rolling it between his teeth. You let out a pained moan as you rolled you hips into his lap. He finally hit limit. He lifted you up as he pulled his pants and boxers down before lining his achingly hard length with your wet cunt before pulling you down on it. Both of your groans filled the space as you felt him fill you whole. You hid your face in his neck as you panted while he let you adjust to the intrusion. You could feel his hands roaming your ass pushing the skirt of your dress up. A sudden smack came to your ass. You let out a hiss. He rubbed the mark he left on your soft skin.

“Go ahead sweetheart ride my cock,” he demanded. His dirty words sent shivers over body. You did just as he said starting to move your hips up and down rotating on his dick as it reached deep inside of you. Your body was already on edge from your earlier release so it took no time to have you clenching tightly around him you next orgasm fastly approaching.

“Fuck you’re so god damn tight,” he groaned. Lust took over as he grabbed your hips holding you still as he drilled up into your pliant body. Your moans egged him on as he chased both of your climaxes. He loved the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him. Feeling you milk his cock drained him of his will and of his semen as he came deep into you.

You both sat there for a moment both coming down from your highs. Bodies worn from the intense session you had just had. He groaned throughing his head back, “fuck I didn’t wear a condom,” he cursed.

“I’m on birth control” you breathed moving off his lap. You searched for your panties sliding them on quickly trying to contain the mess between your legs.

“Good, that’s good,” he breathed a sigh of relief he looked around both of you. It seemed no one notice dyour little drunken romp in the parking lot. There was a slight awkward pause neither knowing what to say.

“Well that was great,” he offered, “uhh do you need a ride home?” He questioned.

You shook your head, “no I’ll just grab a quick Uber home,” you respond pulling your phone out to do just that.

He nodded seeming to like that idea not wanting you to walk home. “I’ll probably head back in and sober up a little before heading home. I definitely can’t drive right now. I’m not even sure my legs will get me back inside,” he laughed. You giggled as well. A chime rang from your phone, your ride would be pulling up soon.

“Hey give me your number and message me when you get phone safe.” He said taking the phone to send a message to himself successfully trading numbers. He gave you one more deep kiss before you left to catch your Uber.

That night your body passed out exhausted. You knew you were going to regret drinking so much tomorrow morning when you have to wake up for class.

And damn was your body sore. Your head was ponding from all the alcohol and the rest was sore from the wild sex you had. Still you woke up bright and early making sure to shower off any evidence from your delinquent activities. You made sure to take some Advil before leaving for school opting to skip breakfast since your stomach was still unstable from the liquor. Your morning classes were relatively easy not but extremely boring. You found yourself daydreaming through most of your history class thinking back to your night with Kuroo. Little fantasys of dates, and more long talks at the bar, even some naughty ideas popped into your head. It was almost like you willed him into existence because not two seconds later your phone vibrated. Your heart skipped a beat seeing his name pop up in your notifications. You laughed at the way he saved his number last night. Oh my god he texted me you thought you were so giddy. That was until you read the messages.

Kuroo 🥵: Hey YN.

Kuroo 🥵: Last night was a Mistake. Look I have a girlfriend and I love her so I think it’s best we pretend last night never happened. Sorry.

Ouch. That hurt.

General Taglist: @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @graykageyama

Taglist: @captain-janeway @elianetsantana

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 3

Author’s Note:  Guys, gals, and non-binary pals, I give you more Prince Oberyn. This chapter really focuses on him and reader but I promise we'll get to Ellaria soon :) For now, enjoy our favorite prince!

Summary: Oberyn visits you at King's Landing

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: mentions of death

———————————————

“And he was pleased?” Tyrion asked as you both sat in the peaceful library of the palace. You sat in the window sill, Tyrion at a desk not far from you.

“He was.” You confirmed. A little too pleased, but Tyrion didn’t need to know that. “The prince is certainly...passionate. He doesn’t hide much does he?”

“No...it’s an asset for him rather than a weakness. He has no secrets so there is nothing for us to exploit as an advantage over him should we have ever needed one.” Tyrion said, sighing as the wheels of his mind began turning. You could always tell when he was deep in thought. His brow furrowed and he looked somewhat distant. “We do have his passion for revenge to use against him though. He wishes to seek revenge for his sister. If we can direct that revenge towards The Mountain rather than towards my father, we may escape this wedding with all Lannisters in tact.”

“You say that as if it were a good thing.” You snipped. Tyrion eyed you with contempt.

“They are still my family. As often as I think about throwing Cersei and her demon of a son in a dark cell somewhere, they are my blood as well as king and queen regent.” He reminded with a chastising tone.

You gruffed and turned your head to look out onto the city. It was aggravating when he looked at you as if you were a child. You loved Tyrion, but sometimes his intelligence and the fact that he was a bit older annoyed you. “All I’m saying is that your sister and nephew are not the most empathetic of people. They don’t rule, they just seize power. They’re no king and queen...just tiny people wanting to feel big.”

“Your choice of words wounds me.” Tyrion teased.

You rolled your eyes and gave a small chuckle. “You are twice more human than anyone in your family and you know very well that your stature does not diminish that.” You were more scolding him than complimenting him. He knew you better than that. He gave a small chuckle, amused at your annoyance only to annoy you more.

“You are very kind to say so. I wish Cersei had your compassion. It seems nowadays she points out my stature every chance she gets.”

“It’s only because it’s her only weapon against you.” You reminded him.

Tyrion gave a small chuckle. “Let’s pray she doesn’t have one against you. Your little bit of theater upon our arrival has already put you on her bad side-“

“I don’t care what side I’m on.”

“Well you should.” Tyrion retorted. He tensed before taking pause and sighing. The pressure in his shoulders subsided as he calmed himself. “You forget that Cersei is queen regent and her son is a tyrannical king. You are skilled with a bow, but you are only one person. Cersei has an entire army and she will not hesitate to use it if you push too far.”

You were finding that King’s Landing was your least favorite place on earth. Before you could pick fights with whomever you pleased and you could get yourself out of them before anyone could inflicting any harm upon you. Being silent around someone who made your blood boil was proving difficult. How could one city harbor so many people you despised?

Before you could respond, a guard promptly entered the library, looking frantically between the two of you before his eyes settled on Tyrion. “My lord, Prince Oberyn has arrived at the palace and is waiting in the gardens.”

“I should have known he’d visit sooner or later.” Tyrion sighed and got up from his chair. He was about to leave when the guard blocked his path.

“Forgive me my lord, but his request was for the Silver Hawk specifically.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as both men eyed you curiously. “Well don’t look to me! I didn’t invite him in.” You quipped, out of defense. You knew exactly why he was here. He wasn’t going to kill you. No, he’d be too bold to do so right in the king’s palace as a guest to the royal wedding, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t threaten you.

“It seems our little hawk has made a friend.” Tyrion teased, but looked to you for further explanation.

“I have done no such thing.” You huffed as you strapped on your bow and sling of arrows, as if to prove a point. “If I had to guess, he wants me to shoot for him. Apparently, his brother told him of me and now he wants to see if the rumors are true.” You lied. He was here to threaten you, or worse, tell Tyrion about your temper while with him and his paramour in the brothel. He had just scolded you for not taking heed with the queen regent, you didn’t need to hear it again over Prince Oberyn.

“I’m sure that will go over well.” Tyrion laughed. “If you don’t want to show him you don’t have to. But you must decline him politely if that is your decision. Be cordial, but you are not entertainment.”

You smiled at your friend. Sometimes you wondered if anyone else understood you so well. “I suppose I must break it to him gently then. Maybe I’ll offer him a girl as compensation.” You laughed, though you weren’t so sure he wouldn’t hold you to that.

———————————

It was sunny outside, far too sunny for your liking. Your leather armor did not suit the beating sun. You felt beads of sweat down your back, but you ignored it. You weren’t about to meet the man you offended armorless, knowing full well that he kept a dagger on him.

You wondered the gardens a bit, but he was nowhere to be seen. You kept your eyes peeled for a flash of yellow or gold, only to be deceived by the bright flowers that surrounded you as you walked the stone path.

You finally came upon the beautiful pond that marked the middle of the garden. It was captivating, tranquil. Lilly pads with little white flowers blooming on top, and little fish swimming to the top of the water only to sink bellow its depths once more, it was enough to put you at ease, if only for a moment. Not able to resist, you let your hand skim along the surface. The cool of it sent goosebumps on your skin, what you wouldn’t give to dive in, just for a bit.

“It’s beautiful is it not?”

You shot straight up and turned at the sound of the accented voice. Sure enough, Oberyn was behind you, giving a small smile. How long has he been there? Was he watching you this whole time? He approached slowly, hands at his sides, the very picture of calm and confidence. Confident you were, calm you most certainly were not.

“It is.” You agreed, trying to remain composed. “I confess I didn’t know it was here until just now.”

“The palace seems to have many hidden beauties.” He charmed with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, if only to have an excuse to avoid his gaze. “Prince Oberyn I already made it clear I-“

“I’m here to apologize.” He interrupted. His features softened. It amazed you how he could switch between the sultry, arrogant prince you thought him to be to...this. He just seemed like a man, not the prince of Dorne. “Well partially.” He laughed as he looked up to the sky for a moment, before returning to you. “Ellaria and I, we do not hide our desires. You are a beautiful woman, we do not take such beauty for granted.” He explained, his brown eyes meeting yours.

Even then you still didn’t understand.

“But,” he continued, “we...disrespected you when it was not our intention, and for that, I give my sincerest apologies.”

Part of your job was to detect liars, and although you suspected Oberyn could be a very good one, you were confident you could tell when he was being deceptive. But now...Well...You figured it would be hard for a man who was prideful and arrogant by nature to feign sincere regret. But there was no give, no sign of false pretense or acting.

You turned away from him, looking out into the water to clear your thoughts before replying. His gaze did not make it easy.

“Perhaps,” you began hesitantly, “I should not have threatened you before leaving. But I am not a prize to be wanted Prince Oberyn. I’m a soldier, and I’ve worked hard to be treated as such.”

Oberyn nodded and looked out into the water, his brows furrowed. You could tell he was thinking deeply about something, but you couldn’t tell what occupied his thoughts. “Men do not take you seriously because you are a woman?”

You eyed him in confusion. “Does that surprise you?”

“We do not define people by their gender in Dorne.” Oberyn stated simply. “Women are treated equally, they are no less capable than any man. A person is defined by their character regardless of gender. Though I should not be surprised. Women are mistreated in many places, and each time I encounter it, it breaks my heart. I think of my girls, and my sister, Ellia.”

“You have daughters?” You asked, surprised .

Oberyn smiled fondly. “I have eight daughters.”

“Eight daughters?!” You quipped before forcing your mouth shut again. Your mind raced, trying to imagine Oberyn with one daughter, but eight?! “How you and Ellaria manage to leave Dorne at all with eight daughters is beyond me.”

“They are all strong, fiercely independent women, but I worry about them. The thought of something happening to them fills me with dread. The acts of men are far too often evil, especially when women are concerned.” This particularly bothered him, and for some reason, it surprised you. You took him as the sort of man who only used women for pleasure, after all, that is what brothels were for. But the way he spoke of his children...well...no one could fake that level of sincerity, of gentleness. “They are safe in Dorne, but they all have a desire for adventure, to see lands beyond their own. I curse myself for giving them that particular trait.” He laughed.

You were stunned. Life in Dorned seemed so far removed from the life you’ve known. You had to fight for respect, to be taken seriously. Anyone who looked down on you as some little girl could be quickly silenced with a good aim and a sharp arrow. In Dorne, it seemed as if it were just given so long as the person were of good character. It seemed so simple yet imagining having such an attitude was difficult.

Not only that, but you were shocked to find that the prince seemed to agree with his land’s attitudes. It was only yesterday you thought of him as a prick who only saw women as objects of pleasure only to find that he was suddenly very open-minded and accepting.

It seemed far too good to be true.

“You are lucky to live in such a land, and your brother is wise to rule with such upstanding morals. It seems like a lovely place.” You complimented, trying your best to imagine Dorne.

“You’ve never been?” Oberyn asked curiously before you shook your head in reply. “You would like it. It is the very opposite from the North. It is warm, but lush and green. It is vibrant and warm, much like its people. Though I think you may faint from the heat with all your armor.” He teased.

Once again you rolled your eyes. “My armor protects me, especially here. No one knows who is a friend and who is a foe in this city, it’s maddening.”

“Which is partially why I am here,” Oberyn explained, looking back over to you. “Ellaria and I....we at least want to offer friendship. King’s Landing is a dangerous city, everyone needs allies. I saw you when you arrived that day, in the palace. I thought you were going to take off Cersei’s head.” He chuckled, only earning him another glare. “I do not mock you.” He clarified, still keeping a light tone. “I found it...Refreshing to see someone talk to Cersei like the queen regent she is not.”

He made it very clear that he wants to kill any Lannister that he sets his sights on.

Tyrion’s words echoed in your head and you remember the story of his sister. You didn’t dare bring it up. Not only was it none of your business, but the less he knew you knew, the better. This was the Game of Thrones, and you were a spy in the middle of it all. Friendship was not a thing you could afford, but it could be a thing you could fake.

“I’m a friend to anyone who hates the Lannisters.” You sneered while you lied right to his face. “I am loyal to Tyrion because he is nothing like his family, but that is as far as my loyalties extend. The rest of the Lannisters are terrible people who will, at least one day, pay for their crimes.”

“I’m glad we share the same feelings towards them. The Lannisters took my sister and her dear children from me and my family. I did not come here for some boy-king’s wedding.” And suddenly the charm the prince once had melted so smoothly into a fiery lust for revenge, a fire fueled by his hate for the Lannisters.

It was like looking into a mirror to see the person you once were.

“You intend on killing one of the Lannisters.” Your voice was barely a whisper. You turned to him and his eyes met yours. It scared you to see how much hate there was in them. “Seeking revenge...it won’t bring you the satisfaction you think it will, Prince Oberyn.” You warned. You weren’t sure why you cared. He was a prince who could do as he pleased. If he had a death wish that was on him, but somehow you could not shake the overwhelming sense of dread and horror at the very thought of the handsome prince’s blood being spilled.

“And you know this how?”

Too close.

“Come now, Prince Oberyn. We only just formed a truce, can’t reveal all my secrets just yet.” It was a tease laced with a warning. You weren’t stupid. Getting you to open up only to use it to betray you later, it was the oldest trick in the book. You didn’t even tell Tyrion anything about yourself for ages, and you liked Tyrion. As far as you were concerned, the Red Viper was still a threat. In another life, you could maybe appreciate Oberyn’s charm and boldness, but with all the tension surrounding the tyrannical king’s wedding, there was no time for making true friends.

Not that you couldn’t fake it, for Tyrion’s sake. Oberyn was just a pawn in this game as well, a chess piece for Tyrion to have handy when the moment was right. But if he was going to attempt the murder of a Lannister, all that would be lost. It was now you wished Tyrion was here. You had a silver tongue, but Tyrion was much better at devising plans than you were. This was his game, not yours.

Oberyn laughed and beamed at you.

It’s like the warmth of the sun settles in his chest.

“You are very wise for so young a person.”

“Not as young as you think.” You retorted sharply.

“I meant no offense.” He found himself repeating this sentence the more time he spent with you. “It was a compliment, something you clearly are not used to receiving.”

“I don’t need compliments, I know my worth.”

Oberyn turned so his whole body was facing you. You held your ground, you would not break under his gaze again. “And what if people simply wish to compliment you?”

His voice was like honey. You were suddenly conscious of your chest heavily rising and falling, aware of how close the two of you were. There was still a respectable distance between the two of you, but if felt like every slight movement was a pull towards him. You felt like a fly being lured to a spider’s web. And you thought the size of the palace made you feel small.

“Then they are wasting their breath.” You pulled yourself out of it. Now it was you who hadn’t meant to be offensive. Oberyn didn’t seem offended, he only looked at you as if you were life’s greatest mystery. You could hardly blame him, you had given him a similar look before. “I only mean that words are precious and powerful things. People should use them wisely, in the right moments, at the right times. I don’t need compliments, so you don’t have to pay me any.”

Oberyn smiled and shook his head once again. It seemed like every word you said left him deeper and deeper in thought. “And you are the decider of when is the right time and when is not?” He refuted, challenging you.

And that flash of anger you felt in the brothel came back and settled in your chest, but you buried it. You were prepared now, you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “I should be. I’m very rarely wrong after all”

Oberyn erupted into a hearty laugh, and even you had to crack a small smile.

“The Silver Hawk has a sense of humor! I was beginning to wonder if you were capable of smiling.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, but there was still a small grin on your face. “Don’t get used to it.”

But Oberyn was still smiling.

Good, let him think he’s gotten my guard down.

“You are a wonder, Silver Hawk of the North. I am glad our paths have crossed, though I wish it were not under these circumstances. If Tyrion should ever relieve you of your services, even temporarily, you must come to Dorne. You would be a most welcome guest and I know my daughters would be delighted to meet someone of your skill. They are trained warriors themselves, but none of them are archers. I’m sure they would love the lessons if you were willing.”

It was a pretty thought. Traveling more, exploring Dorne, even meeting his daughters intrigued you. But it was only that, a pretty thought. “Seeing Dorne sounds...intriguing. I always try envisioning your land but I’m afraid I lack such imagination. As for your girls, I would be delighted to meet such warriors. But I am loyal to Tyrion. He pays me well and I’ve seen more of Westeros in the time I’ve been in his service than I’ve seen in my lifetime prior to being in his service. And as a Lannister, he’ll always need protection...his family has too many enemies.” You explained. That, and very deep down, you would miss him and the rest of your crew too much.

“But you are only a person. Every person longs for freedom, no?” He asked, surprised by your answer.

“I am free.” You replied more sharply than you intended. You took a deep breath and tried calming yourself. But you were not some loyal dog. You knew that Tyrion would let you leave the moment you asked him. You wanted to stay.

But Oberyn didn’t need something to use against you.

“Tyrion doesn’t keep me chained. If he did, he wouldn’t have let me speak to you so freely. I can do as I please as long as I do not neglect my responsibility and duty to protect and help him.”

“So you are free when you are not needed?”

“When I am temporarily not needed.” You retorted but calmed yourself before you could feel the flutter of anger you were used to feeling in your chest when you talked to the prince. You weren’t sure he actually meant to insult you anyhow, he was just good at doing it naturally. “With all your respect, I don’t expect you to understand. You are a prince. I don’t imagine you’ve had to fight to live or survive. You fight for your country which is honorable. We just...fight for different reasons.”

Oberyn began to walk alongside the pond. You followed suit. You’d been looking for an excuse to explore the gardens anyways. He smiled as he took in the surroundings. “I admire that, your reason is honorable as well. You fight for yourself, you honor yourself. We may not be so different as I thought. I fight for my family, but I honor myself in a much different way. To you, Ellaria and I’s advances were offensive, and again we apologize, but to us, we are simply honoring ourselves by being completely ourselves. We do not shy from our desires, life is too short to not pursue the things you want...even if things may not always go the way you think they might.” Oberyn chuckled, giving you a small nudge. You let out another small chuckle.

He wasn’t so bad.

Still a threat, but not so bad.

“I suppose there is some honor in that.” You relented. “I would only suggest taking into account who you are talking to Prince Oberyn. This is King’s Landing. Making enemies here is as easy as breathing. You almost made one this yesterday.” You joked.

“I do not care about making enemies and I care less about what people might think...until today.” He grinned at you, and your reaction was to instantly turn away. No one has ever looked at you like that. There was a gentle fondness to him that blended far too well with his confidence. You had heard only a few stories that told of his skill on the battlefield, but there was a far greater danger in his tongue than his sword.

What we’re you to say to that? He seemed to care less about what even Tyrion, the right hand of the king thought of him.

“Tell me something Prince Oberyn, and speak candidly. Why are you so interested in me? You have seen woman warriors before, your own daughters even. I have shown you nothing of my skill and even less of who I am until today. So why?” You asked before you were even sure you wanted to know the answer.

“Because you are beautiful.”

Your jaw set. Was that really it?

“And, though you are not as forward as Ellaria or I, you have the same passion, that little spark in your chest. Why do you think our sigil is a sun?” He smirked, proud of his family, his name, and his city. If you were highborn and looked like him you imagined you would have the same gusto.

"It’s alluring and I want to more. Not many people have the pleasure of meeting you. You either steal their breath with your legendary arrows or you are guarding the Little Lion. We were curious about what lies beneath your armor.”

You wanted to scream, maybe even punch him, but you remained unmoving. So this was the game they were playing. Break the Silver Hawk to get to the Lannisters. What did he take you for? A  nieve girl pining for her first love?

“But-“ he continued, “the more I speak with you the more confused I am. You are a mystery, Silver Hawk, and that is your strength.”

You took notes of that. Of all things, you would believe that to be true. When you really thought about his words, you could understand what he meant. If no one knew anything about you no one would have a way to hurt you.

“And you embrace your flaws, and that is your strength.” You noted. There was an understanding between you two, an odd connection despite differences.

“Prince Oberyn.” That voice was far too familiar to you. You turned to see the golden-haired queen regent, somehow glaring at both you and the prince at the same time. “Welcome to King’s Landing. I apologize for not greeting you sooner, looks like someone beat me to it.” The queen regent flashed one of her signature fake smiles your way.

“I asked for The Silver Hawk. If I wanted you I would have asked for you.” Oberyn retorted.

Maybe you liked him more than you thought. If you couldn’t talk back to the queen, you were glad Oberyn could in your place.

The queen remained composed, but you and Oberyn were not stupid. There was rage under the calm demeanor. If there was one thing you understood about the queen regent, it was that.

“Though we welcome you to King’s Landing Prince Oberyn, in the future, the King and I will be made aware of your visits.” She addressed the prince, but glared at you.

“With all your respect,” you spat, meaning anything but, “I follow orders from the hand of the king. And I do believe Prince Oberyn made it clear that his only intention was conversing with me.”

“You have nothing to fear today, Queen Cersei.” Oberyn added.

Today...you suppressed a grin at that.

“Prince Oberyn, since you are here you must let me show you around the palace. It’s been ages since anyone from the Martell family has visited and the grounds truly are exquisite.”

Oberyn said nothing, but looked to you.

Is he asking for my permission?

“I must return to Tyrion. No doubt he’s going on about how he can’t do anything without me.” You joked, earning a small smiled from the prince. You gave a small nod towards your new companion and an even smaller one to the queen.

You turned to leave, but Oberyn’s hand clasped around your wrist. Your wild, shocked eyes met his calm, collected ones. The prince placed a small, chaste kiss to your knuckles, looking at you and grinning the entire time.

Right in front of the queen.

“Until we meet again, Silver Hawk.”

Panicked, you turned away quickly and made a beeline back to Tyrion

It was sure to go over well the next time you were burdened with the company of the queen regent.

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@ilikechocolatemilkh @rpcvliz @janelongxox

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

I don’t need you to love me, I love me

I’m gonna miss writing about Pearl.

As the loneliest Crystal Gem, a loyal servant who became a fierce ally, then a spurned lover, then a grieving survivor, Pearl’s story is about discovering who she can be on her own terms. Like Steven, she believes that her value comes from being valued, but unlike Steven, she was literally programmed this way and has an even harder time breaking loose, so she starts off at the toxic level of selfish selflessness that threatens to consume him, directed towards someone who’s been dead for years. She defines herself by her relationships, but struggles with all of them because she only understands a dynamic where one person is superior and the other is inferior; as such, her life is an endless evaluation of whether she’s worse or better than the people around her, thus whether she should be deferential or condescending. Her problem goes beyond not knowing how to develop loving relationships with equals: she doesn’t know how to love herself.

But she changes her mind.

“We need to talk about us.”

The first act of Change Your Mind (which lines up nicely with its first quarter) sets the stage with Blue and Yellow both converting to Steven’s cause, and while compelling, it’s appropriately intense. That intensity gets even higher as the episode continues, but this is still a big finale, so it’s about damn time for some fanservice.

After a quick “go to your rooms” to reinforce that White Diamond is the Diamonds’ mother more than their older sister, Connie gets the body part pun train rolling: “face-off” will soon be followed by “did you have a hand in this?” and “lend me a hand” (which earns a chuckle from Blue), Pink’s legs succumb when Steven takes a knee, and getting into White’s head becomes the primary goal of the second act (so all of this second quarter and most of the third). Still, the levity seems fleeting before two glints in the sky bring us the one-two punch of Bismuth leading the charge and Lapis and Peridot showing off their threads.

Bismuth fits right in as the leader of the B-Team, as beyond her seniority she’s clearly more competent at running a show than the other two (see: The New Crystal Gems). But her reverse electric guitar soon cedes to a glorious harmony of Lapis and Peridot’s themes as we see their new forms: Lapis gets pants and sandals, and Peridot gets ridiculous shades and a trashcan lid, the perfect adaptation of Static’s saucer for the Crystal Gems’ resident raccoon. Peridot goes ham with three stars, while Lapis wears a subtle dark blue variant that includes all five points if we count her legs. For a moment, everything is right in the world.

Their timing couldn’t be better, and not just because we need some stress relief. Steven begins the finale with one friend on his side, then he gets two Diamonds on his side, and now he has three reinforcements on his side, and this growing group of allies all represent what the Big Three Crystal Gems can’t: the family that Steven has chosen, rather than the family he grew up with. These relationships are all a result of his effort, whether going out of his way to befriend Connie or winning over the five former enemies that now stand at his side, and together they‘re one huge reminder that you can reach people if they’re willing to be reached. White Diamond isn’t a villain because she’s cruel, she’s a villain because she quashes any effort to change her mind.

Furthermore, seeing Lapis and Peridot  in particular next to a pale, prejudiced, recently-discovered member of Steven’s extended family who disagrees with a parent’s name change evokes that other long episode where Steven went out on a limb to change someone’s mind, and the comparison does wonders for putting White Diamond’s bigotry in perspective.

I’ve already made my defense of Andy, but in short, his irritable first impression masks how open-minded he ends up being. Sure, he has some lousy beliefs, but he’s willing to sit down with folks he disagrees with and try and look for ways to either compromise or straight-up be convinced that those beliefs might be wrong. On its own, Gem Harvest could be read as a little too hopeful, especially as it came out weeks after the 2016 election gave proud bigots the White House, but next to Change Your Mind it expands on the finale’s message: keep an open heart and mind, because people can surprise you if you give them a chance, but don’t let yourself be a doormat in the process.

White Diamond would never have come to the Crystal Gems’ table. She still hasn’t even shown up in person since Legs From Here to Homeworld, using a warped version of the same delegation Steven practices in his talks with the Diamonds: he helps others bring their individual experiences to light, showing that his position isn’t unique, while she blots out their individuality and replaces them with her. Blue and Yellow’s contrast has been a plot point for far longer, but Pink and White (and now Steven and White) are an even starker pair of foils, divided not only by personality but by size and age.

Knowing how hard it will be to reach White, Yellow and Blue again suggest that Steven and the Crystal Gems bail, offering their own ships now that Pink’s is unavailable. While this shows how profoundly they believe in him, it again reveals how unfamiliar these two are with being “good.” Beyond the plan only delaying the inevitable (White Diamond for sure could send more troops to Earth in this scenario), Steven points out that his mother failed in both of her identities to confront the problem in a healthy way, and continuing to avoid it will mean it never gets solved. Rose is still a progression from Pink and Yellow and Blue, as fighting for your beliefs addresses the issue more directly than running away, but Steven in turn is a progression from Rose.

Then Connie’s opening words in Blue and Yellow’s conversions pay off. This time she’s the one ending the conversation, and she’s gained enough of their attention that they don’t write her off as a blathering human. Steven never got to meet Rose, rank-and-file Gems don’t have parents, and White Diamond seems to be the root of it all, so Connie is the ideal voice to reach the Diamond Sisters: she’s the only other person on the planet with a living mother. Where Dr. Maheswaran at her worst once stood in for Yellow Diamond, she can now represent the bigger fish, both in her similar brand of maternal tyranny and in the hope that her attitude can change after a good talk.

And just as Connie takes over Steven’s role as the big finisher for Blue and Yellow, Steven takes over Connie’s role as the voice introducing bigger voices now that it’s time to face White. He works with his aunts to bring his grandmother to a standstill—not by beating her statue-like ship into submission, but by joining the arm-ships to the body and completing the picture—and says his piece briefly before ceding the floor to a pair that White has victimized for far longer than the past week or so.

I love that Yellow is the first to speak, flipping the Diamonds’ conversion order and subverting the notion that the more emotionally open Blue might take the lead. This isn’t just a matter of clarity, but bravery, and Yellow has always been the more confrontational of the pair. It’s also that much more impactful to see Yellow push past her fear and allow herself to be vulnerable, given how hard she’s worked to maintain her air of stoicism. Patti LuPone’s raw power has served the character well, and she keeps up the same petulant energy that saw Yellow dishing about White in Familiar, but now she funnels all of it into a stirring argument against the exacting nature of Homeworld society. And because Yellow helps pave the way, Blue can deepen their point by defending Pink’s role in the quartet and detailing how White’s orders have caused the whole family to suffer.

Steven bookends the Diamonds by suggesting that White can start helping everyone by helping her daughters. Then White shows what kind of “help” she’s willing to provide.

Pink’s former pearl was already proof that White Diamond has the power to possess others, but it’s another thing to see it in action. The whole episode so far has been about building up hope again after Steven is knocked down by Homeworld, but all it takes is one agonizing glare to send everything backwards. Blue and Yellow are even worse off than they were before, and as they’re brought into White’s fold, their arms follow suit. White drops the Crystal Gems and lets them fall, then Steven drops the Crystal Gems and dives after them.

As he slides down alien architecture on his shield, the soundtrack gives a nod to the theme song to prepare us for more fanservice. Now that White has made it clear that talking isn’t going to get us anywhere, it’s time for more action. Now that we’ve established the importance of Steven’s chosen family, it’s time to reconnect with the family he was born into.

Amethyst is first, because of course she is. She’s usually the quickest to reform, and she’s the only Gem that Steven has fused with, so Smoky Quartz is the best start if the goal is reeling off three fusions in a row with a growing sense of excitement. Smoky’s theme heralds this new development with glee, evoking the pure joy of seeing a new fusion from Earthlings as it becomes clear what the show is doing. Fusion has recently featured as a stand-in for marriage and an act of rebellion, but now it represents familial love, and doubles as an elegant plot device to get the poofed crew back in action. The wonder of fusion has always been that beyond whatever metaphor it currently serves, it’s also just a really neat piece of magic that lends itself to awesome visuals, and this whole sequence revels in the glorious spectacle.

Pearl is second, because we’ve already seen another version of Rainbow Quartz, so the biggest reveal is bound to be the Garnet fusion. Rainbow Quartz 2.0 blends the old with the new, immediately showing off the latest clever fusion of weapons (a shield and a spear into a parasol) and introducing a blue jacket that will soon belong to Pearl. The drumkit/chiptune mashup of Smoky’s theme is replaced by a piano/chiptune mashup, and then this new fusion opens their mouth.

Of all of Steven’s fusions with a female or female-presenting partner, this is the one with a male voice actor, and it couldn’t be more perfect. Rainbow Quartz was the only one of Rose’s fusions that we saw, and Now We’re Only Falling Apart shows that she was the second-ever cross-Gem fusion after Garnet (that we know of), so she was clearly something special. Pearl’s romantic interest in Rose complicates matters further, as Rainbow Quartz is an embodiment of a deeply imperfect relationship. This is a character with a lot of baggage, but casting Alastair James puts a hard stop to the idea that this is the same Rainbow Quartz, even before we hear them refer to themself as “2.0.” After the literal nightmare that begins Change Your Mind and the figurative nightmare to come, it’s wonderful to have one more piece of evidence that Steven and Rose are different people.

Amethyst and Pearl, like Lapis and Peridot, get great new looks, and they’ll soon be followed by Garnet (after the commercial break). If this was just for the sake of fanservice, it’d be more than enough: it’s always fun to get outfit changes, and between that and the fusions (including Sunstone and Obsidian; again, after the commercial break!) we get a pleasant treat to sate us between the drama. But as always, the show finds a way to create deeper meaning in the magic.

The Diamonds look the same now as they did thousands of years ago, and one of the reasons why is that they’re unbreakable. Creating a new form requires poofing, which is a very silly way to say that the Crystal Gems have found a way to grow through pain.

Life will always have its share of pain. Part of growing up, maybe the biggest part, is figuring out what you’re going to do about it. The Diamonds react to pain by closing themselves off and letting their problems fester rather than addressing them head-on. But over the course of the series, Lapis and Peridot and Amethyst and Pearl and Garnet have put in the work to learn from their pain and heal, and because they’re literal projections of their true selves, they get a physical manifestation of that growth that can only come after weathering one more blow.

To be clear, pain itself shouldn’t be glamorized. It sucks, and it’s okay if your reaction is to take care of yourself rather than use it for Creative Fuel. But the Crystal Gems are what happens when you deal with your pain, and the Diamonds are what happens when you don’t. And because Steven shares the legacy of both, Steven Universe is about him helping others through their pain and Steven Universe Future is about finally confronting his own.

We end with the most frustrating commercial break of the three, coming right in the middle of the second act, so we’ll just keep on going with fusions and new outfits next time. But if we have to stop partway through a scene, at least we get a Monty Python Foot to stamp out the first half of Change Your Mind.

I Can’t Believe We’ve Come So Far

Hilary Florido is the only storyboarder with their own recurring segment in Steven, Universally. But every other storyboarder had plenty of opportunities to make a fully realized High School AU in their promo art, and none of them did, so that’s on them.

Florido is obviously more than her promo art, but it speaks to a specific level of nerdy passion that made her and longtime coboarder Jesse Zuke so dang good at Peridot episodes, starting with just their second collaboration, the iconic Catch and Release. From there they gave us Too Far and Log Date 7 15 2 and Barn Mates and Too Short to Ride and Beta and Gem Harvest, and Florido kept the ride going with Raising the Barn. Peridot would not be Peridot without Hilary Florido.

In terms of more serious clods, Florido is the only person to board all three Kevin appearances (Alone Together with Rebecca Sugar and first regular coboarder Katie Mitroff, Beach City Drift with Zuke, and Kevin Party with final regular coboarder Danny Cragg, who also stopped boarding after the movie). She gave us as Ronaldo at his worst in Rocknaldo and Aquamarine at her worst in I Am My Mom. And as if she needed further proof of her prowess with harrowing material, she gave us Alone at Sea and A Single Pale Rose.

It’s weird to attribute good Steven writing to any one boarder, given he’s in every episode but Jungle Moon and he’s generally pretty great, but Florido worked on some of the most important moments of Steven letting us into his deeper thoughts: she’s behind him getting real with the Cool Kids in Joy Ride, with Amethyst in Steven vs. Amethyst, and with himself in a rare monologue in Lion 4. His ability to discuss the uncomfortable subtext of Mystery Girl’s visual similarity to Rose is key to the magnificent tone of Last One Out of Beach City, and his introspection about his mother’s older identity is just as important to Familiar.

In short, Hilary Florido rocked at characters with rough edges, whether it was Peridot’s ornery id, a bevy of outright villains ruining everyone’s day, normally sympathetic characters doing dubious things, or Steven giving himself enough of a break to complain. She stepped up as a storyboard supervisor for Steven Universe Future, but even if she hadn’t, her legacy would be secure.

(Frankly it’d be secure even if the only thing she gave us was this.)

[blackjack-15]

Ziplines, Blood Ties, and Colonavirus — Thoughts on: The Silent Spy (SPY)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC, TOT, SAW, CAP, ASH, TMB, DED, GTH

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with my list of previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: SPY; mentions of the “Nancy Games” (ASH-SPY); SAW; mention of National Treasure (2004).

The Intro:

It’s our penultimate meta, and this time, it’s personal.

In every way, The Silent Spy is the culmination of the Nancy Games. Ever since her trip back home in ASH, Nancy has been increasingly featured in the games, showing us more of her personality, her life, and her backstory — all in an effort to lead up to this story, where we actually delve into Nancy’s place in the world and what it means that she lives in it.

And the answer to that is a lot less wholly idealistic than the franchise would have given 20+ games ago.

I don’t mean to say that SPY is a cynical game — it’s honestly fairly neutral, edging on positive — but that SPY accepts the fundamental truth that all of the Nancy games have been leading up to: that Nancy, though talented, hardworking, and connected, is simply another fish when it comes to the sea of life. She’s not unique in any way that really matters – look at her foils in Alexei, in Jamila, in Deirdre, in Jessalyn — and yet she continues to work hard, to solve puzzles, and to right old wrongs.

At least for me, this is a hopeful message. The point of “Nancy Drew, Girl Detective” is not that no one could do what she does, it’s not that she’s the best, most experienced sleuth in the world, and it’s not that she’s the Last, Best Hope of those who call upon her for aid. The point behind her character is that she’s a relatively normal (if wealthy) girl who does what she can, and chooses to do it again and again.

There’s a wonderful part in the equally wonderful movie National Treasure when our heroes are reading a part of the Declaration — the part talking about the right of the citizens to throw off a despotic government like the British had become — and Ben (Nicholas Cage, actually in a good movie for once!) defines it in modern speech:

“If there’s something wrong, those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action.”

In the beginning of the Nancy Drew games series, Nancy is merely an intuitive puzzle solver. She gets her cases through family connections, turns up at places where mysteries happen to occur, etc. etc. As time goes on and she practices, she eventually comes to the point where she’s being hired for bigger and bigger cases, more and more regularly — in short, she starts to live the truth of that quote. Nancy is, at her core, someone with the ability to take action against things that are Wrong. Throughout this series — and most especially, throughout the “Nancy” games (ASH-SPY), she becomes someone who recognizes her responsibility to take action.

And that’s what’s showcased here in SPY. Upon arriving and learning that she’s been led to Glasgow under false circumstances, Nancy is immediately and wholly over her head — but she’s still someone who has the ability to take action to right a wrong. When she’s working against Revenant, warning the scientist, or reading through secret memo after secret memo, she’s not doing it with the intent to Save the World; she’s finishing Kate Drew’s last task. Her loyalty isn’t to Glasgow, to Cathedral, to MI5, or any other player in this story — her loyalty is to her mother, and to the task Kate Drew died while trying to finish.

Which is, in my view, the best possible motivation in a game that’s all about family.

With that discussion behind us, I want to talk a little bit here about the other theme of this game — power. Revenant, as the terrorist group that they are, want to seize power; their goal is to run Glasgow (branching off from there into a wider sphere, of course) through seizing power during a (self-induced) state of emergency — aka, what’s referred to in-game as the Colony operation.

This is, of course, Politics 101 — whip people up into a frenzy, come in promising to Save Everyone, and entrench yourself in power that you can’t be moved from with any amount of ease. And while Revenant planned it for 2005, it would work even better in 2013, when social media and instant, 24-hour news cycles can keep the fear alive far more effectively than Revenant would have hoped for nearly a decade prior.

Both in 2005 and 2013, Revenant nearly succeeds, only to be foiled by a red-head out of her depth but who tries anyway (the difference between the two, of course, is that Kate was isolated and Nancy had backup). The most startling thing — and one of my favorite things about this game – is that it doesn’t end with Nancy ‘killing’ Revenant once and for all, or even stopping the Colony Operation once and for all. Nancy is, in every way, out of her depth here; she’s not used by either side as an agent, or even as an asset — she is, as Zoe reminds her, a tool, valuable for what she might know, not for her skills, not for who she is, or what she works for.

As the games from TOT on have worked hard to expand Nancy’s world and tie it together, SPY shows the benefit of having a wide-open world: that the world goes on, people live and die, and secretive organizations (ATAC, Revenant, Cathedral, MI5…) plot and scheme to remake the world in their image.

This, in my view, is also a great thing. The thing that Nancy Drew books (and a lot of the early games) get wrong is that Nancy fixes (or is party to fixing) all of the problems introduced. The piano-playing girl that Nancy meets ends up with a Grandmaster as a teacher; the inheritance goes to the Worthy Widow and Her Daughter; Nancy rescues her tied-up father AND solves his case for his client all in one brilliant masterstroke.

That’s not to say that every story should have all of its threads dangling by the end, but Nancy is simply a smart and resourceful girl, working (most of the time) with her own relatively meager resources. She shouldn’t be the answer to the world’s problems, and I think it’s lovely that, especially in the Nancy games, she really isn’t. Nancy is a helper, and that’s far more valuable than being an omniscient, all-powerful being who can magically fix everyone’s problems just by being there.

The last thing I want to talk about in this introduction is how good SPY is for Nancy’s own personal lore. There’s a lot of fuss every time SPY is brought up about how “Nancy’s mom actually died when she was three!!” which, honestly, tells me that the 60s re-writes (which, yes, if you’re pedantic, started in ’59) did more damage than I had previously thought.

The original Nancy Drew books were written in the 30s by various ghostwriters, and were a little different from the yellow-bound 60s rewrites that most people consider the “old Nancy Drew books”. 30s Nancy Drew was a little closer to our games-universe Nancy; brash, outspoken, punishingly independent, and incredibly capable. She’s also a bit violent and unruly, has graduated from school at 16, lost her mother at 10, and does as she pleases with the occasional call home to reassure Carson or (more often) to ask a question about the law.

Sadly, other than taking out a few racial and societal overtones that weren’t really acceptable after 30 years — mostly by taking out any non-white characters and including different forms of bias, note — the yellow rewrites weren’t an improvement to the stories or to Nancy’s character. Nancy becomes less bold, less independent, and far more focused on describing each meal in punishing amounts of detail. The words “kindly” and “sweetly” were increasingly added after “Nancy said”, she’s far more deferential to authority, and her mother instead passes when Nancy is 3, rather than 10.

In changing the form of the media to video games, rather than books, what would eventually become HER had a choice; they could align themselves with the newest Nancy Drew books — the Nancy Drew Files and Nancy Drew on Campus, both of which were known for being Hotter and Sexier (and, in the case of Campus, ridiculously stupid) — or choose what people called “the classics” — the yellow-spine 60s rewrites, as the once-famous blue books had been all but forgotten in the 90s. In the first (and still one of the last, honestly) brilliant move of the series, HER chose to mix and match the things that made for good game fodder from (nearly, given how much the Campus books suck) every written incarnation of Nancy.

And, to their credit, they chose an important fact from the 30s: Nancy’s mother died when she was 10, not when she was 3.

Losing a parent is a defining moment no matter when it happens, but the exact effect often changes based on (among other things) the age of the child. In order for Nancy to be the kind of person who is influenced by the mystery of her mother’s death, her mother had to have died when Nancy could remember — thus, 3 is right out, as Nancy might remember tiny bits and pieces of the events leading up to and right after, but nothing else.

By taking bits and pieces of contrasting (and often contradictory) lore and making their own out of it, HER (and I’m hat-tipping Cathy and Nik especially here, given Nancy’s characterization spike beginning around WAC/TOT) gives us a version of Nancy that’s similar to the sleuth we know and love from the books and movies (ignoring the 2007 disaster) and, occasionally, TV shows, while still keeping her mostly consistent and showing us a few new flashes that make this character stand out and win her place in the Drewniverse.

Now, with all of that said, let’s move on to this game in specific, shall we?

The Title:

The Silent Spy, as a title, is one that is wonderfully mysterious and really makes you want to know more — right up until the title drop within the game itself, at which point it shifts from quite alluring to desperately sad and foreboding.

After all, “the only silent spy is a dead spy.”

As the game really is about our resident Silent Spy — Kate Drew and her actions and legacy — this is really the only title that the game could have had, and it suits it down to the ground, both with its mystery and with its sadness.

In life, Kate Drew was silenced, and in death, she is obviously necessarily silent — but Nancy reads her words, remembers her speech, listens to her voice, and, of course, hears her song, whenever the world is quiet enough. And I think that’s a wonderful dichotomy for the title to introduce before the game has even properly begun.

The Mystery:

Summoned to Scotland by a mysterious message and guided by a photograph of her mother, Nancy arrives ready to retrace her mother’s steps — only to be thrown into a world of espionage, gadgets, untraceable phone calls, and deadly mishaps. Her luggage (and her best clue about her mother) having been stolen, the presence of an old family friend who refuses to talk, an evasive skiptracer, an excitable local, and a clever intelligence agent all work together to ensure that Nancy is off-balance the minute she arrives.

All, of course, is even less what it seems than Nancy is prepared for, and she spends to game gloriously off-balance trying to keep up with the larger forces pushing and pulling her. She needs to retrace her mother’s steps, escape from certain death, dig deep into the pasts and presents of the people she meets, and do some impressive sleuthing of her own to even make the change from tool to player — and even that might not be enough to keep her safe when the dastardly minds at Revenant come a-knocking…

As a mystery — or as a collection of intertwined mysteries, honestly — SPY succeeds at what a lot of other games tried (and ultimately failed, in one way or another), which is to link all the happenings in the game together under one cohesive plot that grows more and more horrifying the more you think about it. GTH has a fandom reputation for fridge horror, but SPY holds its own easily when you consider Kate’s fatal chase, Moira’s abduction and guilt, the threats that Ewan and Alec operate under, and the life that Zoe leads on the regular.

Every action that Nancy takes benefits someone — whether it be Cathedral, Revenant, herself, or an interested third (fourth?) party — without her really meaning to, and the game is great in including another question in every reveal.

The beauty of SPY’s mystery(s) is that it takes careful reading, paying attention, and honestly replaying in order to grasp the enormity of every action. No matter how many times you play or replay, there’s something new to find — a time-sensitive conversation, an implication in a note, a theory behind the presence of a clue or a piece of (what you previously thought to be) set dressing — it honestly is limitless, and it just helps to contribute to the feeling that this is a world that Nancy isn’t meant to truly be fully immersed in.

And speaking of people who are immersed in that world…

The Suspects:

We’ll begin, for organization’s sake, with our out-and-out (current) agents first, then tackle our other suspects, then our Nancy-related people, and finish off with — for the final time in this series, as this is the last “Nancy” game — Nancy herself.

A new, yet returning character, Bridget Shaw is one of the cover identities of Zoe Wolfe — aka Samantha Quick, who Nancy impersonated in VEN and who helped the Hardy Boys in Treasure on the Tracks.

Prior to SPY, I had money for a very long time that Samantha Quick would eventually come into the game, and I was absolutely delighted with her appearance in SPY — where else would she be so well situated? Zoe is snarky, disillusioned, cynical, and sometimes downright nihilistic, but she’s also someone who took up a job that, percentage-wise, no one wants to or is able to do, because she’s alone:

“I work in the field for two reasons: one, I don’t need any help. And two, because no one would miss me if I fell off the grid.”

I love watching the ND games subvert their own formula, and Zoe is a great example of the “helper”-type suspect who really isn’t like your traditional “helper” at all. She’s there to do a job, and if sticking with Nancy helps her to do it, then that’s what she does. But she’s not there to Right some Great Wrong for the warm fuzzies of it all, or even because it’s Just and Right. She’s there because it’s her job, and her job is to play the game.

“It’ll be brief, painful, and full of garbage…but that’s life, isn’t it? And that’s the metaphor I’m riding into the grave.”

Next is our (kind of) double operative and partial culprit, Ewan McLeod (real name Sean Kent Davis) is a clever operative of Cathedral who decided that he wasn’t valued or important anywhere near as much as he should have been, and reached out to Revenant to supply them with information. Summoning Nancy to Scotland, Ewan is easily able to gain a portion of her trust as the Watcher in the Wires and is her tie to the relative safety of Cathedral.

As a culprit, Ewan is — ultimately — pitiable. Not that he’s not an egotist with a victim complex a mile wide, but when you actually look at the situation he’s in, it’s hard not to feel bad for him, even though he did it to himself. Having contacted Revenant, he’s now attempting to hold a tiger by the tail, praying it can’t eat him — and his worst fears come true, as his loved ones are threatened (“trying to keep my friends and family alive”, remember) and he’s discarded and made a target by the terrorists that he tried to use to make himself important.

Given the rather chilling threats made by Revenant, I’m inclined to believe that when we find him tied up, he didn’t do it to himself. Nancy would have noticed if the knots were too loose to have been done by a third party, and we know Revenant told him several times that if he wasn’t useful, he’d be punished.

While Ewan makes terrible choices, he’s also a pawn being played by a larger force — like everyone else in the game — and that is at least worth pity, if not forgiveness.

Next up is our former Cathedral agent and all-around tough cookie Moira Chisholm. As one of the people responsible for the events that led to Kate’s death — though no one but Revenant is responsible for killing her, note — Moira lives with guilt, regret, and a powerful sense of loneliness that only the loss of everyone you hold dear can bring.

Moira’s guilty of nothing in the present-day calamity, and helps Nancy the very best she can in her own limited power, but is ultimately a character for whom the past looms larger than the present can match. She has her hobbies, but her house is filled with memories of days when people sat on her couch and broke her teacups, not of hours reading alone.

She’s an intensely tragic character, and an example of what happens when your need to know the “truth” can get in the way of doing right by those you love. Moira lost everything to her previous job for Cathedral (who is implied to have left her, an otherwise dangerous free agent, alive because they knew (correctly!) she would become stagnant and docile under the weight of her own guilt, ouch), and yet she risks life and limb to help Nancy —not because she thinks it’ll exculpate her, but because Moira, at her core, wants to help the world, no matter what it’s taken from her.

Our final suspect is Glasgow’s resident skiptracer and unwilling pawn Alec Fell, who, along with Moira, can be traced back to Kate Drew’s death. Originally, Alec investigated a mysterious car crash — the one that killed Kate Drew — and, when he didn’t stop after a warning, had his office ransacked and burned. In the few months before the game starts, he experiences another break-in and his sister is kidnapped, with a message informing him that if he wants to guarantee her safety, to comply with Revenant’s orders.

Unlike Ewan, when pushed into a corner, Alec does his best to raise a little hell while still trying to keep his sister safe. For everything that he does on Revenant’s orders, he also helps Nancy out, finds her suitcase, locates Moira, tells Nancy where the cards are, and does his best to push back in other, little ways.

Sure Alec is guilty of a few things — most notably the fake shooting scare in Nancy’s room — but he’s a very active character, riding the rails and searching for anyone who can help put an end to this situation. It’s not for nothing that he’s a fan favorite, both for this game for the series at large, and his excellent VA and charming dialogue only make up half of his appeal.

On our Nancy side, we’ve got a few returning characters and one (semi) new one, so let’s go through them before getting (for the last time!) to the girl detective herself.

Carson Drew, father and golf model extraordinaire, is here to ground (as in steady, not punish) Nancy as she goes through this mystery. As the other person besides Nancy who was most affected by Kate’s death, Carson is an invaluable source of Kate-related knowledge, but is concerned foremost with his daughter’s safety.

For my money, the most important thing we learn about Carson here is that, well…he married the wrong woman as much as Kate married the wrong man. It’s sort of simplistic to say that their story shows that, in some cases, love doesn’t conquer all, but it’s true all the same.

Carson was happy to jet off to Scotland on occasion to visit Moira and her husband, but being happy to take vacations is a very different thing from a life constantly shifting and changing. He’s a prosecutor, so he has a strong sense of justice, but also has a strong sense of stability — he chose a career with a set trajectory and clearly defined rules.

Kate Austin, however, was a journalist who occasionally consulted for a Spy Organization when life got a little too boring (it’s important to note that she wasn’t a straight-out spy like Moira — she was far too free-spirited for that). She had all of Nancy’s inquisitiveness but more people skills than Nancy will probably ever have, and made friends easily.

It’s easy to see how she would have been attracted to the All-American, hardworking, solidly intelligent, emotionally balanced man, just as it’s easy to see how the slightly flashy, clever, inquisitive, intuitive redhead would have attracted him.

If this is starting to feel like I’m describing two other characters here…well, longtime readers of this meta series already know what happens when I use a paragraph to describe characters without using their names.

Kate is important in the game in that we’re shown her differences from and —more enlightening — similarities to Nancy. Nancy’s actions in this game are reflections on what Kate did (and what she would have done) as much as they show how the daughter diverges from the mother. And while Nancy doesn’t have her mother’s people skills or ease of making friendships, what she does have is her mother’s – and I’m going to use this word purposely — flightiness.

At the end of the day, Carson couldn’t be with Kate when she flitted off around the world, and Ned can’t be with Nancy when she does the same.

(I also find it interesting that we deal in the games only with Carson’s side of the family, and never even have a mention of Nancy’s maternal grandparents. Yes, I know Kate could have been an only child and her parents could already be dead…but I do like the possibility that they blame Carson for Kate’s death (entirely undeservedly!) and thus cut off contact. But this meta is for, well, meta, not fanfic.)

Ned Nickerson plays an important role in SPY in that he tries to help Nancy the best he can, even to the point of breaking and entering in her house (though really, it’s just entering, since he has permission) to find a document for her.

Ned comes off brilliantly in this game, but it’s important to note that his big, impressive (yet charmingly understated) speech isn’t to Nancy, but to Carson. And it doesn’t sway Nancy, it sways Carson. Because, at the end of the day, Carson can relate to lots of the pieces that make Ned what he is, and the situation that Ned finds himself in.

He’s wonderful, as boyfriends go; he calls her, encourages her, offers oddly prescient hints…but he doesn’t go with her. It’d be easy enough to make that a point in the series that, though we don’t see it happen, Ned often accompanies Nancy on her escapades, but instead we’re told — often through contention — that the exact opposite is true.

Ned is solid, true, intelligent, emotionally balanced and kind, but above all, Ned is stable. He’s enrolled in college — in an honors frat — and plays sports, attends his classes faithfully, remembers important dates…the list goes on and on. These are all wonderful characteristics for a boyfriend, but he, like Carson with Kate, ultimately isn’t what Nancy needs out of a relationship — and she is certainly not, like Kate with Carson, what Ned needs out of a relationship.

At the end of the day, both would need to compromise — Ned would need to set off with her sometimes, and Nancy would need to stay close to home sometimes — in order to make the other happy. And, well…nothing we have in any of the games says that either one would do that in the long term. Sure, Nancy returns home after the fight in CAP for ASH…but is in Egypt the very next game — immediately followed by Colorado, Georgia, and Scotland.

And honestly, this is the basis on which I disagree with Ned/Nancy as a couple. It serves neither one and, as we see in quite a few games where they squabble, they can make each other worse.

And speaking of our resident sleuth, let’s talk about Nancy Drew before wrapping up this character section.

In SPY, Nancy is — as mentioned above — a tool, used by both sides to get what they want without caring how it personally affects her. The big thing we learn about Nancy in this — and one of my favorite characteristics about her — is that Nancy is pretty ruthless. To me, it makes sense that, to get the information she wants, Nancy does what a terrorist organization tells her to because 1) it’s not her home immediately at risk, and 2) most importantly, Nancy has done bad things in the name of a good end in pretty much every game.

Lying, stealing, breaking priceless artifacts, endangering others — none of these are really new to Nancy, and what SPY does is brings that to the forefront. Sure, you as the player have the option not to do what Revenant tells Nancy to do…but then you miss out on big parts of Kate’s characterization — and, more importantly, a big part of Nancy’s.

In an unprecedented move, I’m going to reference National Treasure again, and quote part of Ben’s speech before he steals the Declaration:

“[A toast] to high treason…here’s to men who did what was considered wrong, in order to do what they thought was right — what they knew was right.”

To me, that shows us why Nancy does what she does — in SPY, and in every other game where she lies, cheats, and steals her way to the truth. She does it because, at the end of the day, Nancy is a person who is ruthless in her pursuit of her goal. And that’s a valuable trait.

Especially when one is dealing with spies, terrorists, and shady government operatives.

The Favorite:

I love most of SPY, so I’ll stick here with the things that especially stick out to me.

As covered above, I love: what this game does for the lore of the ND world; ‘Samantha Quick’; the many motivations of our suspects, and the emotional resonance that this game has.

Beyond that, there are a lot of little things. I absolutely love that they got the relative of the guy who plays Carson to play Nancy when she was little — that’s adorable to me. I love the cookie-making minigame, the outfit swap for Bridget/Zoe, the voice work for all of our suspects and helpers, and the beautiful locations (especially the spy cabin, both exterior and interior).

My favorite moment in the game is a sad one, but I’m a mercurial kind of person, so you should have really expected that. It’s actually Moira’s log/diary/letter to Kate (it functions as all three) after Cathedral deactivates her as an agent. I love a lot about it — the sad, almost desperate feeling to the words, the pen color changing as the seasons do — but nothing is better done than Moira’s last entry:

“It’s winter. It doesn’t matter that it’s winter, does it?”

My favorite puzzle is probably the zip-lining one. Sure, it’s easy, and sure, the animation makes me a little motion-sick, but it’s just….zip lines are just cool. That’s all there is to it. It appeals to the spy-loving idiot in me, and I think big-woosh-go-fast is stupid cool.

I also have to give a hat-tip to Kate’s letter — turning a fandom meme into a heartwarming story? Nik, you mad genius — and Nancy’s letter to Kate at the end. Both are beautifully written and are the perfect centerpiece to their respective characters, and both always put a smile on my face (and, at times, a tear in my eye) when reading them.

The last thing I really do have to mention here is Logan’s quasi-reappearance. I mentioned this in my “Top 5 Surprising Moments” meta, but I love, love, love that Logan is a Cathedral operative, and that he reported on Nancy during SAW. Not only does this continue to open up Nancy’s world, but it also shows that there are consequences to Nancy’s actions. She’s in rare form as far as rudeness goes in SAW, and SPY weaponizes that against her, giving Cathedral (and Revenant) a way to weaponize her feelings about her mother’s death and her — to be frank — inability to let things lie as they are.

The Un-Favorite:

There are a few things that aren’t quite my favorite in SPY, so let’s run through those as well.

First, in the common refrain of “small visual distinctions are difficult for me personally”, I didn’t like that there wasn’t enough contrast between a plain (on the bottom half) cookie and the orange/purple jelly. The shadow on the screen makes it kind of difficult to tell them apart, especially if there’s sprinkles and/or frosting on top of it, and I found that mildly frustrating, even though I love the minigame itself.

The second thing I don’t like is the option to skip the dialogue. Yes, this is present in most of the newer games, and I don’t like it in them either, but it’s especially egregious in SPY and LIE. Both of these games really rely on hints given in the dialogue (and of course, in the written materials hidden around the game) in order to get a full, clear view of what’s going on. The option is great on repeat plays, but I really do wish that it was disabled if it was your first save file on the game.

The last annoying thing is the Jabberwocky puzzle — or rather, the percentage of the jabberwocky puzzle that the player actually has to do. The puzzle as it stands feels very confusing, and the “hints” you get are quite unintuitive.

The record tells you basically how to create the encrypted message — it’s the first letter from each green word, the second from each orange word, etc., arranged in the order they appear in the poem — but when you start the poem, Nancy has already basically completed this step, and it’s up to you to do the actual decoding just through process of elimination.

It’s a puzzle of letter deduction, like in TMB and the minigame in ASH — and these are normally my favorite puzzles! — but it’s cloaked in the disguise of an encryption puzzle, and for that, it’s incredibly irritating.

The Fix:

So how would I fix The Silent Spy?

The first thing I’d do, which you can probably guess based on the above section, is to fix how the Jabberwocky poem is presented. Even a bit of dialogue establishing what the player actually has to do versus what Nancy does for the player would be helpful in working through it without bothering making the encrypted message oneself, and would set the player up to actually know what they’re doing, versus the mass of confusion that comes with the puzzle.

The only other change I would make would to put in one more flashback — that of 10-year-old Nancy’s perspective shortly after Kate’s death, perhaps after the funeral. We spend a lot of time in flashback seeing Kate before her death, and I think it would add to just a little bit more of seeing Nancy’s relationship with her mother if we could see the Drew house with her recently gone.

(And perhaps, see or hear Hannah? Please?)

The Silent Spy is a game that I find, on the whole, to be one of the best that Nik penned, and certainly a fitting end to the series of “Nancy Games” that gives us a little more perspective on our teeth sleuth. There are as many moments of joy as of sorrow, but in the end the player is left with the feeling that Nancy’s world is a little better for knowing more about her mother, and that whatever else Kate did and was, she left behind a world (both in game and breaking the fourth wall) that was better — and had ways to become even better than that — than it was when she lived in it.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Okay so the Bakujirou fic made me want to read more of ur writing(uwu💖💖💖💖)so can you please write a fluffy tdmm fic of them playing Animal Crossing:New Horizons together featuring trans girl Momo(which is my favorite bnha trans hc tbh)?Pls include all your headcanons i want this to be as self-indulgent for you as possible

We are getting up to some hopefully good nonsense up in here~! Let’s see if I can’t cook up something tasty for ya! Also this was one of those prompts that really got away from me and kinda... rambled away from the main point of the request and dissolved into a bit of a character study with added notes of fun shipping goodness so please forgive the length! And obviously if this is unsatisfactory please feel free to scream at me for my sins.

Trigger Warning: Transphobia, Mentions/ References to Body Dysphoria

She wasn’t Nashi. 

Momo had to remind her of that fact every now and again, when the doubts about her appearance started to leak in. Did she present well enough? Did her hobbies speak loudly enough of the truth of her femininity or did people think she was faking? If she decided to go with a bob cut like Ochako’s, or a cute pixie like Mina's, would it make her features stand out wrong? Would she be fine wearing shorts, or would it be safer to pick a skirt or dress? It wasn't as often as it used to be that the anxiety about her appearance reared up - especially since she had been eagerly accepted by her peers when she confessed that she'd been deemed male at birth - but there were still moments where it did.

Like that evening, in specific.

While Father and Mother still worked in Pro Heroics, their roles had shifted quite drastically over the years. Momo herself had only been eight years old when Father was gravely injured in a Villain fight, taking a serious blow to protect a fleeing civilian. There had been countless surgeries and treatments to follow, leaving Father unable to move as well as he used to. He retired as an active on-duty Pro and became more involved with the agency behind the scenes. He worked more with the finances, employee relations and things of that ilk while Mother took over control as the public face. For a while, things were fine like that. It was a nice balance between them and, even though it was clear Father missed interacting with the public, he settled into his position quite well.

But as Momo's second year at UA started its second half, Father's health started deteriorating quickly. His immune system had been compromised as a result of all his past procedures and the side effects of that started to hit fast and hard. Momo herself had missed three days of classes to rush to see him when his cold escalated enough to warrant a hospital stay. While there, Mother and Father had discussed an upcoming business mixer. It would allow for them to connect with various other agencies to locate team-up partners as well as connecting to a few new support development teams. Mother had seemed rather concerned by the idea of going alone given that Father had always been the social core of their team.

And so, despite her discomfort, Momo had volunteered to go along. Mother had seemed surprised but agreed to take up her offer.

The day had been very strange leading up to the event itself. After getting out of her classes that Saturday, Mother picked her up to get put together. The full works were done for her; hair, make-up, manicure and pedicure, all coordinated to match with the long, sapphire blue evening gown Mother had picked out for her. Mother was an odd mix of overly involved and incredibly distant, taking care to ask if the length of her heels were comfortable for her or if the red of her lipstick was too dark for her liking. Once getting a response, though, she’d be heading off to tend to something for her own attire for the night without a second glance.

A part of her said she should have expected as much. It was a hard thing to define, her relationship with her mother. Ever since she came out and asserted who she really was - claimed Momo as her true name - Mother had never misgendered or dead named her. Even in the beginning, when the change in name and pronouns were still new, she’d gone out of her way to speak more carefully, to address her daughter the correct way. Momo took that as a sign that she was accepted, yes, but… Mother had always been incredibly distant. She seemed to only take an interest in Momo when it involved her Quirk training and her accomplishments therein. She often wondered if the problem was more that Mother had never wanted children in the first place and only agreed to having one to placate Father, or to carry on the family name.

It was rather disheartening to think about. 

The moment they entered the extravagant ballroom for the mixer, another Pro that Momo couldn’t place was flagging Mother down excitedly. “Yaoyorozu-San, such a delight!” he greeted happily, offering her his hand. His gaze flickered over to Momo, smile remaining in place though his eyes gleamed in confusion. “Ah, and who is this? A niece or cousin of yours or your husband’s?”

“No,” Mother said, quirking an eyebrow as if the answer should be obvious, “this is my daughter, Momo.”

Momo made sure to flash a demure smile as she bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

“A daughter? I heard your only child was a son,” Momo could feel herself tense as she righted her posture. Of course, she thought, it would already be starting so quickly into her evening.

“A mistake, I assure you. This is my daughter and I expect you to respect her as such,” There was an odd undercurrent to Mother’s tone that caused Momo to glance at her sideways. She looked thoroughly unamused, judging by the scowl and slight glare she had fixated on him, and her shoulders were squared as a show of confidence. She supposed that Mother got tired of hearing this same statement time and again.

He blinked slowly, nose wrinkling briefly, before nodding curtly. “Of course. My apologies,” he shifted his gaze away from her to Mother quickly, clearly uncomfortable. “Anyway, Yaoyorozu-San, I had been hoping to have a word with you! I have a case on my hands that seems well suited to your skills.”

Mother perked up a bit at that. “Hmm. For now I’ll just take a general overview. I assume you do not have any official documents regarding it on your person currently, yes?”

Momo let out a small breath at the attention being directed away from her. “I’ll be going to get a refreshment, Mother,” she announced, though she doubted that she was heard. She made a beeline for the aforementioned table. It was often at these kinds of get-togethers that there were two separate refreshment areas; one for the younger crowd and another for the adults. She grabbed the ladle in the punch bowl and started to pour some into a decorative plastic cup for herself. There were orange and lemon slivers floating on the surface of the liquid so she prepared herself for the tart bite of citrus on her tongue, a small smile on her lips.

For a second she thought of Shoto, most likely settled in the dorms with his Nintendo Switch, most likely catching bugs or fishing on his new Animal Crossing game. The system and game - according to him - were a bribe from Hawks to keep some secret from Endeavor. Shoto had held up that part of the bargain but, he confessed, had snitched to Natsuo. It had been the most entertaining family meal they’d had in a while after that, he assured, and she giggled to herself as she sipped her drink. He may not seem like it, but Shoto had a mischievous streak in him.

“No way! Is that you, Nashi?” She jumped and whipped around, noticing a group of three boys around her age approaching. She recognized one of them from her first grade school, before she’d started her transition, but it took a moment to place a name to the face.

She plastered on a smile as she turned to face them fully. “It’s Momo, actually. It’s good to see you again, though, Hiroki-Kun,”

Hiroki blinked and tilted his head, confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in epiphany. “Oh, okay, my bad! Momo it is!” he agreed with a grin before indicating the other two with him. “Well, let me introduce you! This guy to my left is Yori, and the one to my right is Manzo! Guys, this is Momo, the one I was telling you about!” His tone dipped slightly as he introduced the second boy with him, as if saying his name had left a bitter taste in his mouth, but quickly perked back up after.

Yori offered a shy smile, staying close to Hiroki, but still offering her his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Momo-San. Hiroki-Kun says a lot of great things about you,” he said quietly.

"Does he?" she asked in slight surprise.

Hiroki grinned at her, folding his hands behind his head. "Of course! You were, like, the coolest kid on the playground! Cool Quirk, super nice, really smart… Who wouldn't admire that?"

She looked away bashfully and giggled. "You're too kind, Hiroki-Kun," she mused, turning her attention to Manzo. She held out her hand to shake his hand next. "You're Manzo-Kun, right?"

“And you’re Nashi, yeah?” he quipped, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

She flinched and shook her head, still trying to be civil. “No, I’m not. As I just told Hiroki-Kun, my name is Momo,”

“Your name now is Momo, but your real name is Nashi,” he retorted.

Her hand dropped to her side, clenching into a fist at her side as she tried to keep her cool. “Momo is my real name!”

“No,” Manzo laughed, taking a step towards her that caused her to take a step back, “Momo is the name you use to play dress up.”

Hiroki stepped forward, shoving an arm against Manzo’s chest and nudging him back that step. “Dude, don’t be a disrespectful ass!”

“She hasn’t said or done anything to offend you. And even if she did, that doesn’t give you the right to act like this,” Yori chimed in as well, a disappointed frown on his face.

Manzo glared before shoving Hiroki’s arm aside and advancing on Yori, who recoiled at his approach. “Oh, what? You think just because you have your stupid little buddy here you’re hot shit?” he barked, moving to shove him.

In a flash, Momo rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “Leave him alone!” she snapped.

Manzo whipped around to face her and wretched his arm free, a nasty grin on his face. “Oh, what, you wanna fight about it? Fine! Let’s fight like men! Since that’s what you really are, Nashi-Kun!” he goaded.

“I’m not a boy and my name isn’t Nashi!” she shouted back, grip on his arm tightening slightly as angry tears started to pool in her eyes. “My name is Yaoyorozu Momo and I’m a girl!”

There was a beat of silence following her words, making her glance up as she realized that all conversation had died around them. Her stomach churned at the realization of the spectacle they’d become. She wasn’t supposed to behave like this! She was supposed to come and be the perfectly sociable young lady her parents had raised her to be. She wasn’t supposed to be getting dragged into situations like this.

“What is the meaning of all of this?” Mother’s curt tone cut in, snapping her from her thoughts. She had to steel herself to look up only to see that furious orange eyes were not fixated on Momo herself, rather, Manzo.

“Yes, son, explain,” another voice chimed in from behind Mother. The man she’d been chatting with when Momo first wandered away approached, looking directly at Manzo with a clearly forced smile on his face.

Manzo opened up his mouth to speak when Hiroki interrupted with “Manzo was being a dick to Momo! He wouldn’t respect her identity or name!”

“I was just stating the truth!” Manzo sneered angrily, finally wrenching his arm free from her grasp.

“Son, you-!”

“Momo, we are leaving. Now,” Mother said, tone clipped and flat.

Manzo’s father looked at her in panic. “Um, uh, Yaoyorozu-San, how about we select a time to discuss that case I mentioned in a more professional setting? One where the adults can talk without the children around?”

Mother glared at him, the look so harsh he shrunk back, before moving to wrap an arm over Momo’s shoulders to lead her out. She said nothing as she allowed Mother to lead her out and to the car, the air between them tense and awkward, barely catching Hiroki trying to call an apology after her and Manzo’s father berating him.

The silence in the back of the limo once they were settled inside was staggering, making Momo wish she could stick her head out the window to scream instead of keeping her gaze fixed on her toes. It was even worse than the air between them on the walk over with the added lack of escape route. She felt like such a failure as she struggled to take in breaths to keep herself composed. She was a top student in the top class at the top Pro Heroics school, for crying out loud! She should be able to handle herself against a bigoted moron! He shouldn't be more terrifying than the ruthless villains she'd faced!

“Momo,” Mother said, her tone so shockingly soft that her head jerked up. Her gaze was fixated on her, as unreadable as ever.

Momo swallowed thickly as she forced herself to square her shoulders. She should apologize for her behavior. She’d caused a scene and surely Mother had been embarrassed by that. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said, blinking in surprise at her words. There was another pregnant pause as Momo let her gaze wander away again, fixated on a small fuzz ball in the limo carpeting by the heel of her left shoe. “Is that normal? What that little brat was saying and doing. Is that what normally happens to you at these kinds of things?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded timidly, wringing her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, for blowing up like that. I can normally keep myself more composed than that during im-!”

“Do not apologize to me, Momo; you were not in the wrong,” she insisted, her voice catching in a mix of irritation and… concern? Mother opened her mouth three times before shutting it again and sighing, her shoulders slumping. “So this has happened and you never told us.”

Feeling a lump sprout and block her throat, Momo could only nod in response.

Mother lifted her head to meet Momo’s eye, her expression filled with sadness and regret. “You don’t feel comfortable coming to me with these concerns, do you?”

“It’s not just… I… So many more important things are going on right now. I don’t want to put more on your plate,” she said softly.

“Nothing is more important than you, Momo,” she argued with a shake of her head. She looked away for a moment before taking a breath and reaching out, setting one of her hands on top of Momo’s. “I haven’t always been the best with affection when it comes to you, or, well, really anyone aside from your Father. I suppose that I had always assumed that it was fine to leave those things to him, that one of us would focus on the emotional side of things and the other the more practical. Father was the fun parent you could play games and sing songs with, while I was the parent who made sure you kept your Quirk in check and your grades up. I thought… I thought that would be a good balance, that it would give you everything you needed. I’ve come to understand how wrong that belief was.”

“M-Mother?”

She placed her other hand above her heart, giving Momo’s a small squeeze as she held her gaze. “I’m going to work at being better for you, at giving you what you need from me. I need you to understand that my failings as a mother... None of that was ever your fault. I’m sorry that my actions made it seem like my love is something you have to work to earn. I love you, Momo, and I’m sorry I’ve presented that fact as being conditional and not eternal,”

She could feel more tears starting to pool in her eyes before she surged forward to embrace Mother. She was tense for a second before she embraced her back, one hand gently combing through her hair soothingly. The rest of the ride back to campus was spent like that, with her face burrowed into Mother’s arms as she cried and settled. It was strange, how nice it felt. It wasn’t like the bear hugs Father used to give her, where her small frame would be completely enveloped and held snug. No, this was something a bit more careful and delicate, something nostalgic and delicate but just as important.

Mother offered to walk her in, carefully dabbing the smeared mascara and smudged eyeshadow aside with a handkerchief, but Momo insisted she’d be fine alone. After stepping out of the vehicle and into the brisk evening air, she took a breath to help settle her nerves and maybe alleviate the twinge of a small headache she could feel brewing. It rattled inside her, still a little shaken up, but she squared her shoulders and made the trek inside. Mother didn’t leave until she was inside, she noted, and made a mental note to talk to her later more about everything that had happened that night. The incident with Manzo had been one thing, but there was the separate can of worms it had opened that she wanted to take care of, too.

She made sure to be quiet as she made her way to the elevator, the sounds of some of their peers milling about in the living room easy to hear. She was pretty sure they were gearing up for their Saturday evening game fest. Surely there’d be a barrage of broken controllers a la Bakugo if it was one of their Super Smash nights, she thought with a small huff, before turning to hit the elevator button. “Momo?” A familiar voice chimed beside her, causing her to jump.

She turned and blinked to be greeted by Todoroki Shoto, staring at her with his usual unreadable face, and let out a small squeak of shock. “Ah, Shoto,” she sighed as her shoulders sagged slightly. “Perhaps Ochako-Chan’s suggestion of putting a bell on you wouldn't be such a bad suggestion. You startled me.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, tilting his head as if sizing her up, and blinked slowly. “I got my Snooty and Cranky villagers earlier,” he said.

She gasped before pouting at him. “You said you’d wait for me to do any more island hopping, Shoto!” she huffed.

“I needed to load up so I could give Ojiro some oranges, and then I got kinda wrapped up doing stuff,” he admitted. He stole a glance at their classmates as Sato and Tooru made their way from the kitchen area with a few bowls and snacks. “Are you going to join everyone else for JackBox tonight?”

She shook her head. “No. Tonight has been a bit more… eventful than I would have liked,” she said, making sure to keep her composure. She didn’t want to worry him over it all. “I just want to go finish washing off the make up, put on some comfortable clothes and relax.”

“I’ll get snacks, then,”

“Huh? Snacks?”

“I still have two plots left for my island and a lot of Nook miles tickets. You get changed and I’ll meet you in your room in a few minutes so we can do them together,” And with that, he moved towards the kitchen.

She blinked and watched him before letting out a small laugh and shaking her head, hitting the elevator button. Shoto was an odd one to be sure, especially since he’d started working towards coming out of his shell more. A part of her was grateful but another part found his stubborn streak to be a bit exasperating. Then again, he only seemed to push when he knew something was wrong, so maybe it was more just trying to offer comfort? Despite his usual aloof demeanor, he was surprisingly astute at reading a room. As to whether or not he could understand how to react to what he was able to deduce was another matter entirely, though.

She set that aside while she got washed up and changed. Her mind shifted gears as she stared at her reflection, thinking about what Mother had said. She felt a tightness in her chest as her mind whirled again. There was some comfort in Mother acknowledging that there was room for growth, sure, but… The catalyst that remained unsaid left her sick. Even if Mother hadn’t said it, she knew this was a reaction to the looming shadow of Father’s death. She had to swallow a growing lump in her throat and shake her head, put those thoughts to bed until a more appropriate time.

She didn’t want to ruin the rest of she or Shoto’s evenings.

She opted for some old sweats and a tank top, taking a moment to comb her hair out from the complex updo it had been styled into, opting to leave it loose afterwards to help abate the small headache she had brewing. Though, if she was honest, sitting and playing games with her boyfriend seemed like a nice way to wind down. She had been having a blast watching Shoto become completely enamored with his little island and all the cute animal villagers with him.

She’d had her own file a good time longer than him and was mostly done with all the villager-hunting and replacing she’d wanted to do but found watching him work through his first experience with it endearing. He’d never even played an Animal Crossing game before so everything was completely new to him. Once she was settled, she took her unit off the dock and propped open the door. Not too long after she’d taken the time to give daily gifts to Phoebe, Ozzie, Chai and Shep, Shoto appeared in the doorway. He had four lychee ramunes, a bowl of popcorn, a bag of konpeito, a variety bag of hi-chews and a package of black licorice tucked away in his arms, his Switch case strap around his wrist. “Ah, here, let me help you,” she urged, setting her Switch down and getting up to help him. “Also, you can dock your Switch on mine. That way we can see your island visits on the big screen together.”

“Thanks. I grabbed a few different things but I can go downstairs and get more later,” he offered as she took the drinks and popcorn. He set the other snacks down on her dresser before heading over to her bed to rearrange the pillows to form the usual cocoon they made for play sessions together. She took his Switch and docked it for him, then grabbed his joycons and put them in the controller holder. Once that was all set up, Shoto settled into the large pillowy ring with his legs spread so that she could settle between them, resting her back against his chest, him using her pillows to prop him up and her relying on him.

She used her remote to flick on the television, then grabbed her console from the other end of the bed and reached for the bowl of popcorn, popping a few pieces into her mouth. “So you did some island hopping while I was gone? Find anyone you liked?” she asked as they watched his game load up.

“I encountered Diana on one of them. She talked to me like she didn’t know me, which was weird,” he said.

“Well, of course she did! That Diana is different from the Diana on my island,” she giggled. She then perked up and glanced up at him. “Oh, and I still need to come get some oranges from you. They’re the only fruit I’m missing on my island.”

“I still can’t believe that out of the fourteen people that have this game, I’m the only one who ended up with oranges as their island fruit. Or that one of you didn’t at least get it as your exotic option,” he commented as his character stepped out of his house. “Oh, and how soon before I can move my villagers' houses?” 

“You’ve already gotten your first three furnished homes, so I think you should have access to it. It’s just a matter of having the bells to spend on moving someone,” she explained as she glanced down at her own screen. Shep came rushing from the left to talk to her excitedly. “Who were you thinking about moving?”

“Roald. I want to move him to the other side of the island from me,”

“Aw, why? He’s so cute!”

“I think he’s plotting to kill me,” he said, completely serious as he stopped in front of the penguin in question's house. When he’d first made his file, Shari and Roald were his beginning villagers and he’d decided to place their tents close to his own for the sake of ease.

She snorted and looked up at him. “He’s just a penguin, Shoto,”

“Just look at his eyes, Momo… He’s a villainous mastermind,” To illustrate his point, he ran his character in a circle around the little avatar, before turning and darting to the left. “That’s why I need more villagers like Ruby and Kyle, who have my back no matter what. I need a whole squad for the day he finally snaps.”

“You don’t think Gayle and Punchy would have your back?”

“Gayle would probably be on my side. She and Roald had a fight the other day so there’s bad blood there. But I don’t want Punchy putting his life on the line. He is a precious boy who must be protected,” he said, glancing down at her with a stern gaze.

She couldn’t help but snort at the expression. Specifically in that it was being enacted regarding pixelated animals on a Nintendo game. “And did you find anyone worthy of enlisting for this most noble of causes?” she teased.

He hummed, reaching with one hand to grab a bit of popcorn himself as he came to a stop between a labelled plot at the edge of the beach. He clicked on the sign, pulling up a card that read “This spot reserved for Static’s new home.”

“Oh, you got Static? He’s a great choice for your Cranky!”

“I like that he is a very tiny squirrel with a very deep voice,” he said.

“Much like how you like that Punchy is a cat and is Lazy?”

“You get me,” he said before running upwards. He crossed a bridge to another area to show another plot with a sign that read “This spot reserved for Willow’s new home.”

Momo giggled. “Willow’s a good choice, too. I almost expected that you’d try to get another cat villager for your Snooty villager, but sheep villagers are always a good one, too,” she said excitedly. She plopped a few more pieces of popcorn into her mouth as she walked into Bruce’s house on her own game. “So you officially have every personality type on your island! Do you have any idea as to what kind of personality types you’d like to have duplicates of?”

“Hmm… Not too sure. You have two Jocks and two Normals, right?” As he asked that, he ran back to his Resources Center to get the first of his last two house kits.

“Yeah. I have Bam and Tybalt, and Bertha and Savannah,” she hummed. She watched as he placed the new house right behind his own, as if it would be watching the back of his own. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the sheer ridiculousness of him.

He hummed thoughtfully before he made his way into the airport. “I guess I’ll just go for characters I like. Personality doesn’t really matter to me since I already have one of every type.”

“That’s a good approach, I think,” she hummed, tossing a bit more popcorn into her mouth. “How many Nook Tickets do you have?” 

“13,” he said while speeding through the dialogue to board the plane. “I farmed Nook miles after I found Static and Willow so I could go get more villagers once you got back.”

She tilted her head up and pressed a small kiss to his chin. “So sweet,” she hummed before looking down at her own game as she started looking for her daily fossils. She’d already completed the fossil exhibits in her game, but like the extra scratch she got from selling the duplicates.

For a moment things were quiet as Shoto used his ladder to climb up the three tiers of the small island to the top, where his potential new villager was waiting. To then immediately start climbing back down at the sheep sitting in front of the campfire. “Nope. Nope. N. O. P. E,” he mumbled as he did.

“Aw, you don’t want Pietro? He’s considered rare!”

“And he can stay rare and away from my island,”

The next three islands were deemed ones Shoto wasn’t interested in - Eugene, Jeremiah and Limberg - not that she could blame him with Limberg. “He’s not particularly good,” she mumbled.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen a single mouse villager that I like the design of,” he commented as he wandered off the desk and onto his fifth island.

“Bree and Dora are pretty cute but most of them are really lackluster,” she agreed, saving her own file and setting her Switch in her lap as he approached the campfire.

Shoto blinked in slight surprise. “A snow leopard?”

“Actually, Bianca’s classified as a tiger, despite her markings,” she said. She watched as he immediately invited her to his island. “Just so you know, she’s a Peppy type, I think.”

“She looks like Fuyumi-Nee,” he said. Ah, of course that would be enough to get him on board with adding Bianca to his roster.

She set her Switch aside and carefully maneuvered off of her bed. “I’m going to open one of the ramune. Do you want me to open one for you, too?”

She made quick work of opening the drinks and offering him his once he finished placing his last plot back on his own island. She took a quick sip from hers before opening the package of black licorice and eating a piece as she watched him. “Mind if I ask you something unrelated, Shoto?”

He glanced up at her, mismatched eyes sparking with something she couldn’t quite place, before he set his drink on the bedside table and patted the space she’d left. “Sure,” he said, his avatar boarding the plane to do his next round of island hops.

She was quick to settle back in with him, turning her body this time to snuggle into his chest. She felt him shift to wrap his arms around her, controller lax in his hand. “We’ve discussed it before but… What do you think it takes to forgive someone?”

He let out a thoughtful noise. “Well, I think forgiveness is different from person to person. Everyone has a threshold for what they feel is forgivable, so I think that needs to be considered,” He set the controller off to the side to card one hand through her hair while the other stroked up along her spine, the movements slow and soothing. “Speaking from my own situation… I chose forgiveness because I could see a genuine change and a refusal to shy away from the wrongs that had been done. I’m still keeping a distance, and I’m ready to burn that bridge in a heartbeat if I see a relapse, but… I can see authentic change. And that’s enough for me to offer my tentative, conditional forgiveness.” 

She nodded at his words, closing her eyes and burrowing into him further. She had always wanted to have a better relationship with Mother, if she was honest. So… This could be a good chance for that, right? They could work on mending things between them and find some common ground. The thought of having a better relationship with her left a warmth in her chest, one that made her smile. Could they have proper Mother-Daughter days? Maybe she could learn more about the older woman’s hobbies and interests outside of Pro Heroics work? That could be nice. “Thank you, Shoto,” she mumbled.

“Any time, Momo,” he said, tipping his head to press a peck to the top of her head. He perked up again and glanced at the screen. “Not to derail but… I think it’s another cat?”

“Oh yeah? What color?” she mumbled.

He shifted his hands to pick his controller back up, keeping his arms looped around her though. “Grey. Oh, their eyes are different colors,”

“Oh, that’s-!” Momo’s eyes snapped open and she sat up, looking wildly over her shoulder at the screen. “Shoto, that’s Raymond! You got Raymond!”

[otonymous]

Afterglow (Jackson Wang - NSFW)

Description: Breakups lead to make-ups...and make-up sex in an alleyway Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader Warnings: NSFW/18+:  Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings: public sex, angst, breakups Word Count: 2748 words (~ 14 mins of smut, angst and fluff-lite™️) AO3: read here Author’s Notes: This story is a BIG milestone for me, because it's the first time I've written about a man who exists outside the two-dimensional plane 😆 The thirst was undeniable ever since I saw Jackson’s Bottle Cap Challenge video, then he dropped the fly Kinjaz dance moves in his Titanic MV, and this story has been slowly brewing ever since.

I found it challenging to write about a living human being, and I strove to be as respectful as possible in the process of crafting this story.  That being said, happy reading and hope you all enjoy it! 🥰

Disclaimer: This is purely an exercise in creativity.  Unfortunate though it is, I do not know Jackson Wang in real life lol

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“What do you know about me?”

The slight tremble in his voice.  A hint of panic.

You squinted as the headlights of a passing car caught the diamonds in his wristwatch, dazzling and disorienting in the dark as light reflected in your vision, and then…over as soon as it began.  The magic of the moment so terribly brief.

And as neon street signs threw electric shadows in the alleyway where you found yourself unable to look Jackson in the eye, the heat of a Hong Kong summer had never felt more oppressive.

Brown eyes no longer crinkled at their corners as they so often did before the cameras, their depths set instead on scrutinizing your features, looking for cracks in the wall you swore would never fall.

Because falling for him never should have been an option.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out, right?  That I’m just another pretty face looking to play around?”

English bleeds seamlessly into Cantonese, Jackson’s voice rising in the deserted corridor where he had chased after you when you left him at the food stall on the corner — the place where you finally mustered up the courage to drive the blade into your heart even as you broke his with a single word:

“Goodbye.”

He hadn’t even finished his lo mein.

“Keep your voice down, Jackson.  You don’t want to attract attention—”

“DON’T TREAT ME LIKE A CHILD!”

The desperate echo of his outburst left him feeling like he’d been punched in the gut.  Eyes following your gaze as it dropped to the ground, Jackson Wang had never felt so small.

The sound of his breath fills your ears, shaky and shallow and accompanied by the drip of an air conditioner nearby — pace steady like a clock to mark the passage of time the two of you no longer had.

He covered his face, tapered fingers dragging from forehead to chin as his throat bobbed, choking on all the words he couldn’t afford to say aloud.

Because in that moment, Jackson hated it all — everything he had ever worked for.  The recognition.  The fame.  Schedules packed with recording, shoots and interviews that it wasn’t until the car ride home that he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the sun.

And in the mire of those lost days, he despised himself.  Hated the way he wished your time would stop too, just so he could share in every missed moment:

Your breath on his skin as you blew out the candles on a cake, warmth gentle like extinguished flame.

The laughter that shook your body till you doubled over, the most beautiful music to his ears.

Tears that rolled down your cheeks to reflect silver moonlight, stealing in through half-drawn curtains while the world outside slept.

Jackson Wang wanted it all.  Selfish though it was, he couldn't help it.  Because all he ever wanted was to give you everything.  But now, in the tremble of capable hands, he felt you slip through his fingers like grains of sand, scattered by the winds of a fate he was powerless against.

Powerless.  Hadn’t he sworn he would never allow himself to feel this way again?  

His hands curl into tight fists.

“Jackson, we…we just…don’t belong together.”  The words felt foreign on your tongue.  Faint, as if you yourself didn’t care to hear them.

“You and I both know full well that’s bullshit,” he scoffs, pulling off his black cap to run a hand through hair dyed chestnut brown.

And you remember.

Remembered the way he did the same in a flustered apology when he first bumped into you that fated day, eyes wide to see your skewer of curried fish balls drop to roll away on the sloped pavement.

Remembered being simultaneously fascinated and frightened by a smile as bright as the sun.  And suddenly, the way he artlessly thrust an egg tart into your hand in exchange for your lost snack made you shy.

Recalled the silk of his hair, wound between your fingers as they anchored to tug and pull with every movement of his body within yours, each wave of ecstasy overwhelming and absolute.

And suddenly, you are nauseous at the thought of never again hearing him whisper your name -- deep voice laced with fatigue on the other end of the line, or husky with lust as he trailed kisses down your neck.  But you swallow hard and sweep the thoughts away, preparing to twist the knife in a bid to be kind.

“All the things I want, Jackson…you cannot give me."  

Liar.

The words wooden in your ear, you wondered if Jackson, too, picked up on the charade.  But the quiet shudder that leaves his lips tells you otherwise.   Strangely detached, as if your consciousness had transcended your body to hover over the scene of a crime, you continue, eyes on the ground as you pantomimed the lies rehearsed since the day you decided to let the love of your life go.

“I want someone whose hand I can hold in public without it becoming front page news.  Someone who can be there, who doesn’t need to hop on a plane when I need him to just…hold me.  Texting and FaceTime, it’s not enough for me anymore.  Being with you, Jackson, it’s…too hard…”

Hypnotized by the rise and fall of his chest, you trail off as he steps closer, the yellow Batman logo on his black tee looking more faded than the last time you saw him in it — one month and three days ago.  The last time he came home.  The last time he was close enough to touch.

The first time you really saw what was happening to Jackson Wang.

For the truth lay in the violet circles beneath gentle eyes, in the tired rasp of his voice.  All those times he fought exhaustion to hear you tell him about your day at the end of his.  The way he’d apologize profusely for falling asleep mid-conversation the morning after while drinking that awful chicken breast shake he still couldn’t quite get used to.  The red-eye flights taken to surprise you on a whim.  The guilt you knew he still carried for missing kisses under mistletoes and summers spent on tour.

“Time.  Just give me a bit more time and I’ll give you everything.  Please.  That’s all I’m asking for.”  

Jackson’s voice is quiet.  Pleading.  You would’ve given him the world had he wanted it, but it still wouldn’t change the fact that your lives never should have crossed.  Jackson burned bright, a shooting star meant to blaze new trails.  And exhilarating thought it was to have momentarily basked in the warmth of his fire, you knew he couldn’t afford to be weighed down by anything — or anyone — in the pursuit of his dreams.

Love shouldn’t be a burden.

So you remain silent, sorrow heavy on your tongue as you fight the sting in your eyes that threatens to give you away.

“Look at me?”

Jackson’s breath, warm and soft at the crown of your head, sets your pulse on fire.  And on reflex, your trembling hand flies to your chest, fingering the delicate chain of the necklace he himself had put on you so many months ago until you remembered that this, too, was to be returned.

Voice thick with emotion, Jackson whispers again: “Please, look at me.”

And when those large hands cradle your jaw to gently tilt, the angles of his handsome face finally come into view, blurred through tears spilling past lashes as your traitorous body revolts — every nerve, every inch of skin screaming out for the touch of his lips.

Those lips.  

Plush pink and soft satin, how often had they pressed against yours, hot and insistent to leave you breathless in the ardour of his kiss?  Even now, with your lies breaking your heart and his, they moved to caress the apples of your cheeks, infinitely tender as he tasted the salt of every bitter tear shed.

“I love you.  Please…please, don’t go.”

Confession laid at the corner of your lips, his hands wrap around your waist to pull you flush against his body, Jackson willing his embrace to express the depths of his sincerity in a rare moment where he found himself speechless.

And there, melting into the searing heat of his chest against yours, you curse your lack of resolve as it crumbles — the cracks in the wall you said would never fall deepening with every sweep of his tongue along the seam of your lips, begging for entry.  Begging for your reconsideration.

So you relent, and the ecstatic shudder that shakes him to taste your mouth at last makes you weak.  But before you can drop, the arms around you tighten — strong and supportive like Jackson himself, constant even as his kiss deepened, greedy for more, more, more.

For when it came to you, Jackson was insatiable.

“This is yours,”  he says, breathless when he finally pulls away, lips kiss-swollen and cheeks pink under fluorescent blue lights, his hand covering yours to pull it beneath his shirt, wandering the crests and dips of that defined torso and crossing the broad smoothness of his chest until finally coming to rest above his heart, beating steady just left of centre.

“No matter what happens, this will always belong to you.  Always.  Me and you…together…we’ll figure something out.  We can make it work.  So don’t give up on us, because I’ll never give up on you.  Okay?”

In the gravity of those big brown eyes, shining with determination and sharp with intent, you couldn’t help but concede, nodding as a wide smile transformed his face and you were once again bathed in light, heart warmed in the afterglow of his indomitable spirit even as your “Yes” is swallowed up by another kiss, hungrier than the last.

And suddenly, you are ravenous for the man, yielding to the honesty of your body as your tongue slides past open lips to explore that talented mouth, fingers gripping the muscles beneath his shirt — hard lines and solid planes all at once new and familiar and so exciting.

Exciting, like the way Jackson loved to take you - wherever and whenever desire struck, desperate to make the most of whatever time the two of you had together.  And when you felt the wall, cool and solid behind your back, the grind of his sturdy thigh between your legs left no question as to what you were in for.

So after a cursory glance down the alleyway confirmed you were still alone, Jackson trains that burning gaze onto you, lids heavy with lust as his eyes study yours before dropping to your mouth, and then…slowly…down to your chest, entranced to watch it heave beneath your top.  And when he sees the diamond pendant he chose for you adorning the skin above the swell of your breasts, his tongue sweeps out to wet that lower lip before it disappears behind the bite of perfect teeth.

Hands drag down your waist and hips, patiently tracing your curves even as the mouth on your neck burned kisses into skin — lips and teeth and tongue fervent as Jackson sought to mark you as his own for the world to see.

And when those long, tapered fingers linger at your knee to draw slow circles before wandering past the hem of your skirt, he angles his beautiful face, the register of his voice deep and low when he whispers in your ear, “Do you think of me when you wear that necklace?”

You nod, finding it altogether too difficult to speak with the way his hand caressed your thighs, fingertips following a gradient of heat as they moved along sensitive skin, inching closer and closer to silk that grew increasingly moist with each press of his muscular leg against your pussy.

“Good girl,” Jackson says as he sucks your lobe into his mouth - hot and wet — and you are further rewarded with a low hiss of pleasure when you reach to palm his cock through his pants, already impossibly hard and intimidatingly large.  The thought of him in you, sliding slick and thrusting fast to stretch you to the limits of your capacity, sent another surge of moisture to your core, Jackson smiling to feel the intensity of your response through drenched fabric.

“I think of you too…”

Your man continues, hand tracing the outline of your slit.

“…Wearing my necklace…”

Thumb hooks silk aside.

“…While touching yourself.”

You gasp.  Finally, fingers on bare skin.  Index and middle dragging from end to end to gather your arousal before skirting slick circles about your clit.  And when you feel two fingers, then three, penetrate to curl and press in torturous repetition, your head falls back as your legs shake, inviting the kiss of his lips on the notch of your neck.

Eyes blown wide with desire lock on your own as Jackson finally pulls his hand away — shiny with arousal even in the dimly lit passageway.  And as he brings it up to his face and yours in some obscene exhibition, your core twitches again to see him taste you, pink tongue running the length of each digit to catch every last drop before those lips wrap around his ring, sucking the remnants of your juices from a bed of diamonds.

“Delicious.  You always taste so sweet.  But right now - "

Your hands leave the bulge of his erection to unbutton his pants, trembling slightly in haste and excitement when you pull down his fly.  And when you finally release that cock — hot and hard — the movement of your fingers pumping slowly along its length steals the words from Jackson’s mouth.  

So you speak on both your behalves when you say,  

“I need you to fuck me.  Right now.”

Breath hitching in his throat at your command, the feral spark in Jackson's eye makes you bite your lip before it is promptly sucked into his mouth, your boyfriend kissing you deeply to silence every scream for discretion’s sake, the way he liked to do when fucking in public.

So you throw your arms around his neck, moaning against his lips as Jackson effortlessly lifts to slowly lower you onto his cock…stretching deeper and deeper until you swear you feel him at the pit of your stomach.  And when he begins to thrust in earnest — biceps bulging as he wraps your legs about his waist to dive hard and fast — the wet sounds of flesh hitting flesh add to the electric hum in the darkness.

Beads of sweat rolling from forehead to chin drip from Jackson's face to the skin of your chest, tracing between the swell of your breasts in the humid night to add to the primal urgency in the swing of his hips.  And when he shifts to hit that spot — smiling, as if proving that he had the totality of your body mapped in his mind — you lose your senses in yet another consuming release, convulsing in his arms until his own is drawn out, depositing hot and deep within you.

And when you finally descend from the clouds, the frantic rhythm in your chest slowing in time to his…you believe.  Believe in the honesty of your bodies and the attachment in your hearts.  Believe in Jackson’s words when he says that together, love will always find a way.  

So you bask in the afterglow of Jackson's affection...warm, bright and magical like the man himself.

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Thanks so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

[eggy-tea]

Throughout Leverage, we see Hardison and Parker doing very coupley things. The one that really stands out to me is when they dance together. My question is, do you think that in 2.0 they should give Eliot and Parker those kinds of moments as well. Not that I wouldn't enjoy Hardison and Eliot having soft, obvious coupley moments. But i always feel like they could've done more to show Eliot/Parker in a more romantic light. (1)

We get Eliot and Hardison having their dates (Gone fishing) singing in Lucille. The hugs between them. But besides The Long Way Down job, we don't get a lot of soft moments (imo) between Eliot and Parker. And I'm certainly not trying to judge how Hardison and Parker relationship vs Eliot and Parker, etc. They all love one another. I just want soft moments between them. Even when it's all of them together. (2)

My feelings on this are complicated. Because on the one hand, it’s an easy answer. I love soft Eliot, and I will always want more of him. With Hardison, with Parker, with them both together… I would give a lot to see Eliot in Leverage 2.0 getting caught in the act of being soft and instead of throwing up a barrier to hide those soft parts of himself (so much of his life, it wasn’t safe to let them show), he leans into it, just exuding waves of “Yeah, and so what? These are my people and I love them. Deal with it.”

And Eliot and Parker together are great and I love the moments that we did get. But I agree that the big ones aren’t light moments. Hardison and Eliot scenes are fun and bantery and just a joy to watch, and the big Eliot/Parker scenes are the cave in The “Long Way Down Job” and Eliot teaching Parker to feel the emotion in his food in “The French Connection Job” — literally showing her how to look for and be receptive to the emotion that other people put into the things they do. Day to day, Parker and Eliot together are efficient and effective and comfortable, jokey and pokey, but when Parker really needs Eliot? It’s heavy stuff, because he can bear the weight.

The difficulty with Eliot/Parker fluff is, Parker’s not a particularly fluffy person most of the time, and one of Eliot’s defining features is that he’ll always give his people what they need from him before ever even considering what he himself might want or need. I suspect, most of the time, Parker reaches her fluffiness limit interacting with Hardison; she’s not going to want a lot more of that from Eliot. Instead, she needs Eliot to be solid and grumbly and sarcastic and a bit pointy, so she can let that sharper side of herself free as well. (It’s not that Hardison intentionally stifles Parker’s sharpness — he would never want to do that — it’s that she doesn’t want to be that person around him because she doesn’t want to risk cutting him on her sharp edges.)

And that’s hard for Eliot too, in some ways, because I see him as very much a thwarted romantic. Part of the reason he’s so good at picking up romantic partners is that he’s got a knack for seeing what people want and giving it to them. But another part of it is that he had the most traditional upbringing of the three — he’s steeped in society’s expectations, can navigate and wield those expectations to his advantage. He knows the forms and unspoken language of the culture. But he’s still bound by all that, too. Eliot’s got a very deep sense of “how things are done” that was absolutely shaped by where and when and how he grew up, and he’s never quite been able to shake it. So as much as he’ll show Parker love in whatever way she needs of him, deep down, there’s a part of him that wants to go on proper dates and surprise his partners with flowers and chocolates and taken them to fancy restaurants, and, and, and…

The problem is, Parker might accept those things and appreciate them in her own way, but they’re not really what she wants (apart from the chocolate, give her all of the chocolate, Eliot, please), and so Eliot would be doing those things mostly for himself. And the problem with that is, Parker wouldn’t respond “correctly,” she wouldn’t be following the proper social script, so it wouldn’t even be satisfying to Eliot in that way. Eliot’s attempts at romancing Parker would just end with them both frustrated, so he’s not gonna go there. He’ll save those impulses for Hardison.

What I can see: Quiet moments where they’re just there for each other with steadying touches and strong, open arms. Watching Hardison together and sharing a look of “I can’t believe how much I love this guy.” Eliot cooking special meals just for Parker, and then just melting when Parker takes a bite, smiles, and says, “I love you, too.” And singing. Eliot with his guitar singing soft and low and so, so sweet, and Parker just still as the feelings wash over her — his, hers — and sometimes she starts crying but it’s good crying, she didn’t even know about good crying before she met Hardison and Eliot. The kind of crying that makes you feel better afterwards. That leaves you feeling open and washed clean and lighter than air, like you don’t even need a climbing rig to go soaring up into the rafters. And when Eliot finishes a song, they always share a smile, the one that’s just for them, that says all the things that get tangled up so easily in words.

God, I want that. I want that so much.

[saygeko]

𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

Over 400 years ago The Fae Realm

"Do not move." Sayge chuckled at the scold while sitting on the polished floor. "I will cut your eyelashes if you continue blinking, close your eyes." The features of her aunt faded into the darkness as she finally closed them the way she was told to. The sharp sound was all she focused on, the scissors chopping off the extra length that had bothered her for the last few weeks, poking her eyes every time and blocking her sight. Sayge would brush the annoyance to her temples, not bothered by the untidy look it added to her appearance. The steady hands of her aunt Jioka told a different story. The disorderly of the locks were unacceptable, she had to get rid of the chaos and bring the straight line above her niece's deep ponds she had for eyes. The hold of the elder's breath showed the importance of the matter.

"Have you heard? Neave brought shame to her clan after running away up to the mountains." The younger Fae hummed in agreement, not forgetting the past order given to her, and not a muscle moved. "Silly girl. Her mother cried for the shine of one full moon night, the next sunrise, Neave disappeared from their books. Her name, shall no one mention again." Sayge lips pursed slightly, and the mental reprimand prevented her from any other reaction. 

The last piece of hair was cut, and the silver scissors withdrawn from her face. Jioka permitted her to open the eyes again, and Sayge kept them low. "Rise your gaze, child." The freshly cut fringe helping her to hide the secret her eyes could naively share and not give a chance to deny it after.

"I have said rise your eyes, Sayge." Jioka's voice went one tone higher. She was her father's younger sister, the second child, known for her neatness, her love for knives, and an impeccable perception, Jioka could read into anyone. Unsure, Sayge lifted her gaze but avoided Jioka's, this upsetting the latter. The loud noise of metal slammed against wood startled Sayge and the small birds drinking from the running water of her aunt's fountain. The Fae wished she could fly away with them. "Speak. Do you know something else about Neave's escape?" It felt like all air left Sayge's lungs at once, but a thin amount let her made a sound.

"I..."

Neave was the youngest child of her mother's third mate. The clan of Zasa. Born one season after Sayge, with a beautiful smile and the head lost in the clouds, with no real interest in cultivation and only using her magic for the simple reasons, a Fae who was closer to nature than anyone, or so she claimed to be. A child of the forest.

"Sayge! Here!" The younger Fae in the water waved her arm in the direction of where Sayge sat on the thick root of a tree. Not bothered to jump into the lake yet. The cool wind and the shade were enough to keep her from the heat of the spring day. 

"I will swim when I wish to, not when commanded." She heard the loud laugh of the girl in response to her turn down. A splash of water made it rain over her. That afternoon Sayge had planned to cultivate with her cousins who were ahead of her in their magic. Her desire to unlock stages of her magic she still couldn't, pulled her from bed every morning. Little time she left for distractions, and when she did (more often than she liked to admit,) she would rather spend it with someone else, not with the loud girl. 

"Sweetheart, the water is lovely. Who are you trying to trick? Uh? You cannot lie to me. You love water, just like fish do." Naeve smiled, the widest smile Sayge had seen in her life, even her back molars were visible to anyone who took a look. 

"The one tricking the other here is you. You dragged me to the lake, wishing to share a secret with me, and all I have heard is nonsense. Quick, share now, or let me go back." She spoke in annoyance and laid back on the greenish trunk. Naeve's insistence that morning as early as the sky had a hint of light blue convinced Sayge to skip her cultivation for half a day.

"Oh dear, you have no idea! Not even a clue! I am in love." She let out her feelings and extended her arms to the sides, allowing the water to get a hold of her weight, her bright smile never leaving her innocent face. "I met him up the mountains the other day." Turning her head to Sayge, she gifted the other one more smile. "Love. You know about it, right? I know you do." Naeve pushed slightly further, waiting for a confirmation from her friend.

Sayge knew what Naeve was trying to hint into, and she rolled her eyes, admitting to it or not, would not take her back home sooner. "Up the mountains? That is so far away from here. Is he not from—?" In an instant, she came to the realization, and Sayge's mouth opened in disbelief. "Naeve, who is this creature you have fallen in love with?"

"He is a Harpy." She shared with a shy smile while still keeping her eyes up to the clouds. "I've been seeing him. He says he loves me too. We would get high up his Chichibu Birch tree to take off and fly to the sky. His Chichibu tree is the only remaining one in the realm, in all realms." She sighed in content, only to speak again. "He whispers sweet words to my ear, and the touch of his feathers makes me tickle." As if all the laughter shared so far was not enough, Naeve shared one more. She lifted her head from the water and looked up at Sayge, who looked at her with worry. 

If her friend had got lost in the forest and mingled with other species, it was nothing of her business. Sayge thought she should give Naeve a word of reason, but she did not, to hear stories of love from others was not the way her clan expected her to grow. "Does the Harpy think this love is good for you?" She asked, not really interested in the answer, but if she said nothing and brushed it off, there was no way she could go back to her cousins.

"He said I should let nature speak to me. To allow the wind to talk and find an answer to our situation where I feel safe." Naeve shook her head, and her soak hair moved along. "So I wait, I wait until I see him again, and wait for the forest to give an answer to my plea."

Sayge sat up, her whole body facing the girl in the water, legs hanging from the elevated root, almost touching the lake with her toes. "An answer from the forest..." She repeated and took a long breath, air filling her chest and letting her mind concentrate. Hands holding tightly from the tree, she extended one of her legs, her foot touching the water, closing her eyes, and Sayge tried to deliver the way she was taught, but so far had not accomplished. 

Eyes open, and everything was the same, the girl in the water and the one on the tree, nothing had changed. Sayge had the bitter aftertaste of failure in her mouth. She knew she should not be losing her time there instead of practicing with her clan. This one more proof of it.

"Oh, Sayge! Sayge!" The shouting of her name called her back to the lake, taking her away from her thoughts. "It's a leaf! From the Chichibu Birch!" Sayge looked down to her feet and saw it, the glistering magic coming from her. From the tip of her toes. She did it.

Synchronicity had bloomed in her. The way flowers bloom on the hottest day of spring.

"This is it! My path was revealed to me by the forest, by nature itself!" She girl swam her way to Sayge, who still sat perplexed in the root of the tree. She pulled of Sayge's leg and made her fall into the lake. Finally, in the water. "Come, my dear friend! I must go back home to prepare and then meet my Harpy." Sayge's arm was pulled, so harshly, it took her a moment to realize the water was up to her waist. 

Naeve's words spoke about going back home, and Sayge heard no more. She had hoped to come back for the longest time, and the magic still warming up her body felt better than the sun hitting the crown of her head.

Jioka let go of a loud laugh, soon stopped by the back of her hand. "I do not know if to scold you or if to pat your cheek, child."

In between Sayge's eyebrows laid regret and accomplishment, and she had a hard time trying to choose which one to embrace. Her hard work paid off, but her first encounter with one of her clan's abilities was tainted with the fall of another. 

"My wish was to..." She had no words. No excuses. She wanted to go back to her cultivation from the moment she saw the lake, and her hurry made synchronicity and bad luck to hold hands.

"Naeve took a decision. The leaf could have been any other, but she already had her mind fixed." Jioka picked up the scissors from the wooden table by them and stood up to walk away. "Beliefs create realities, my child." She said as her figure disappeared in the hall, leaving Sayge by herself, sitting on the floor with the trimmed hair of her bangs scattered on her lap.

Only a few days had passed, but Sayge already missed Naeve's laugh.

Synchronicity is defined as the occurrence of meaningful coincidences that seem to have no cause; that is, the coincidences are acausal. Explains a relationship between two events which could not be explained by cause and effect.

Sayge is the cause and effect, perceived by the other as meaningful coincidences. Mere luck.

[raidbossmadi]

Rough Patch

Early CoV

Tyreen paced up and down the length of the Cathedral infirmary waiting room. She was glad that aside from the glass door, the walls of the room were thick metal. The God-Queen couldn’t be caught nervously wringing her hands as she paced like a captive lion. Not that she looked like the God-Queen when she was draped in a too big hooded jacket over a thin tank top, however she couldn’t settle down or stop herself. Troy was in surgery; perhaps the most extensive operation he’d been through besides breaking his jaw when they were teenagers.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that it would be ok, that this was necessary. It wasn’t his fault he was so fragile, a fact that had been repeated to her by her parents since they’d been born back on Nekrotafeyo. She’d always had to be strong while she watched their parents dote over him, their mother boosting him with her own siren energy when he was running low. Tyreen had never been sickly, only catching a cold once or twice in her childhood,and she had never been severely injured before the incident with the guardians.It had always been so hard to wrap her head around the fact that her twin brother, who had once even been a part of her could be so sickly in return.

It was for that reason that Tyreen was grateful when Allison had sat her down and explained in great detail what they would be doing to Troy in this operation. She had been the one to catch that the scrap contraption Troy called a right arm was pulling his spine out of alignment and exacerbating a congenital defect in his vertebra. Without this operation the damage would worsen,and the neurological symptoms would become unavoidable. Allison had also gotten Troy to agree to getting a neural port installed so that he could actually use the arm instead of just hanging off him like the hunk of scrap it was.

None of that helped now,though,she was still anxious about what was going on beyond the waiting room door. In her mind, images flashed of her brother flayed open on a cold operation table picked through like an animal being dissected. Their fathers' warnings of what the corporations would do to them repeated over these images. She hated how the infirmary smelled, so sterile and clean. It felt fake like that, especially here on Pandora. Nothing should be this clean not even if it was a medical practice.

Tyreen stopped her pacing and shook her head, this was ridiculous. Allison Spectra was the woman who had saved them when she had been sure Troy was about to die in the Promethean slums. She had been their doctor for years at this point there was no reason to think she would suddenly be untrustworthy, especially when she’d brought in one of the best neurosurgeons in the six galaxies to aid in the operation. Troy was literally in the most capable hands he could be in, she just needed to relax.

She sat down in the chair she had left her bag on and fished out her echo-phone. Everyone in the Inner Circle knew what was going on, and Juni had assured her that they would handle things until Troy was stable. Tyreen still couldn’t help but check in on the morning reports, Jaxon had just finished leading the sermon. While it was a relief that the Children of the Vault could run itself without her constant supervision. Tyreen felt like it was all she had control of in this moment. If she truly needed to, she could phone Juni and have her do whatever she needed done, of course she knew that she should just let it rest, for now, and focus on the things at hand but it was comforting to know that one thing at least was always in her control.

She did however open the channel she used to talk to all the department heads. The moment her icon took a green aura indicating she was online she immediately got pinged by Juni.

Juniper (Marketing) : TYREEN! Turn it off!

Juniper (Marketing): You promised you’d look after yourself, micromanaging us isn’t looking after yourself Tyreen. I can handle things while you worry about yourself and Troy, Jaxon is on the alert too she promised to handle anything that comes her way.

Tyreen huffed at the messages, even though they made her feel fuzzy inside. Knowing that Juni was looking after her she couldn’t just not answer.

Tyreen (God Queen): Thanks. I’ll head off now, you remind me to get you a gift basket or three when this is handled.

She closed the app and sifted through some current news articles looking for anything to distract her. Until the door clicked open, one of the nurses stepped out and was almost immediately accosted by Tyreen.

“Is it done? Is he ok? He’s ok right?”Tyreen would never act like this if she thought it would get out into the general public but the medical team was sworn to secrecy the same way the department heads were.

“God-Queen, we aren’t done quite yet. Dr.Spectra wanted to speak with you. She’ll be out in a moment.”The nurse said in a tone that had anyone else used they would have found themselves husked. Today though nobody would be husked, these people were here to do a job.

The nurse disappeared back behind the door and after what felt like entirely too long the familiar face of Allison Spectra stepped into the room. Most of her definable features were masked off by her surgical scrubs but her amber eyes that softened when they focused on Tyreen were unmistakable.

“Ah Tyreen, don’t worry everything’s been going perfectly fine. We’ve installed all the vertebral implants and Dr.Sampson is getting ready to install the neural port. Actually that’s what I wanted to speak with you about, as I’m sure you can imagine it’s a bit of a delicate process and while Dr.Sampson is the best neuro specialist in this arm of the galaxy things can still be a little tricky.”Allison held up a hand as Tyreen began to glare at her.

Tyreen weighed the words carefully. She did not want to jump to any conclusions but Allison more so than anybody else in the CoV would know how seriously Tyreen took her brother's health. How could she not when she had been the one who had found a freshly rained on frantic eighteen year old in the lobby of her private practice on Promethea sobbing and begging for help, that her brother was sicker than he’d ever been. Allison had only ever been here to help, and she knew that.

“Shouldn’t you, y’know be in there then? Not out here with me?”She said after what felt like an insufferably long pause. Surely if the operation was not done, one of the attending physicians shouldn’t be out here with her just because she was wearing a track into the floor.

“I’m not a neurosurgeon if you’ll recall,the nurses can handle watching his vitals. There’s no reason for me to be clogging up the operating room when there’s nothing more I can do.”Allison took her mask and gloves off, shoving them into a pocket of her operating scrubs, then placed a gentle hand on Tyreens leg.”Besides, I figured you could use some company.”

Tyreen said nothing to that. It was true she could use the company. How often did she forget that despite all her bluster she was a person, there was only so much she could shoulder by herself before the bottled up emotions ran over. She said nothing but let the hand remain, a good little reminder that she deserved the comfort of others.

——

Tyreen didn’t know what to expect when she walked into Troy’s hospital room. The only force driving her forward right now was the need for visual confirmation that her twin was alive and well. Dr.Sampson had used a lot of big medical terms she didn’t really understand while telling her the operation had been successful. To be honest her brain had mostly blocked out everything he’d said after confirming that Troy had taken all the implants well. She knew that anything that she needed clarification on she could turn to Allison for, but nothing would settle her other than seeing Troy herself.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she entered the room. Time seemed to slow around her as she looked at the heavily bandaged figure that lay in the hospital bed. Her mind immediately registered him as her brother. However,he looked so different in that moment, even when he’d needed his jaw glued back together he still looked like Troy. Laying in the bed now he looked so small.

She was transported back in an instant to Nekrotafeyo, to the days when she would be pulled by her father kicking and screaming away from the bed while her mother would cradle Troy’s tiny body in her lap, how still he would be sometimes. This was just like that only mom and dad weren’t here now to stroke her hair and tell her everything would be alright.

Allison and Dr.Sampson had both warned her that it wouldn’t be pretty, that there would probably be blood seepage,but not to worry unless it seemed excessive.Even so,the bloodstained bandages caught her attention.She was glad that Troy was being pumped full of the best pain killers on the market because even without seeing what lay under the bandages it looked so painful.

It took every ounce of self-control she had to not just touch him with her powers and take the pain away. The doctors had been very clear with her that she could not make the same mistake she’d made with his jaw. He would be laid up for a month at the longest;they had to let his body heal naturally or he would likely be paralyzed if not worse. She perched in the chair by his bedside so afraid that if she were to so much as breathe on him he would turn to dust before her eyes.

She hummed softly, the old lullaby their mother used to sing when they were scared or afraid. Leda had so many lullabies that Tyreen felt like she did no justice to. They were, however, one of the last tenuous strands to their mother they had left and in this moment she needed the strength that Leda had always had.

***

Tyreen was determined to sit vigil at her brother's bedside; she hadn’t left the room in days. When the medical team would come in to check on him she’d excuse herself to the bathroom or go stand in the hallway. She had seen them change his bandages once and that had been one time too many for her. Allison asked her if she’d eaten every time she came in and Tyreen lied through her teeth, she hadn’t left the infirmary ward at all, for once in her life her ability to sustain herself without eating was useful.

She’d fallen out of the habit of checking her echo every ten minutes, if someone needed her attention so desperately they could message her. She was deep in thought when movement at the door caught her attention and Juniper walked in. Tyreen had forgotten that she’d given Juni permission to enter the ward if she so chose to, but she was glad to see a familiar face from outside the ward.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Tyreen echoed back at her, her gaze never straying. Juniper dragged a chair from the corner of the room and sat next to her God-Queen.

“How’s he doing?” She asked, placing a hand on Tyreen’s shoulder.

“Fine. They’re gonna have him sleep through the worst of it.”

“And how are you doing chica? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t. Not really at least. I’ve caught a few hours here and there but…I just worry something awful will happen to him while I sleep.” Tyreen rubbed her eyes, she felt like a ghost of herself.

“You can’t hold yourself responsible for that Tyreen. You know that right? This is out of your hands now.” Juni soothed giving the other woman's leg a reassuring squeeze.

“I can though. This is my fault, the fact that he needed the operation at all, the fact he’s so sick all the time. All of it.”

“Would you blame yourself if he was like this and you hadn’t been born the way the both of you had been?”

Silence met the question and after a long pause with no answer in sight Juniper sighed.“ I get it. He’s your family, he’s all you got, but that doesn’t mean you can tear yourself apart like this.”

She sighed again and looked to the door before looking back at Tyreen. “Listen, when I was just a little younger than you my family lived in the Promethean slums. Folks didn’t care about what ended up in the air or water cos we were the underbelly and they were progress. I had a younger sister and I had to sit and watch as she got sicker and sicker and nobody gave a damn. I had to watch my sister suffer and die and accept there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. As the older or stronger sibling we so often feel like it’s on us alone to protect our siblings, but we can’t do it all Tyreen.”

“Troy’s a tough guy, and you're literally sitting in one of the best medical facilities on Pandora. He’ll be alright and if he does need you? Shouldn’t you be in the best condition you can be to provide for him. Please just get something to eat, have a nap. I’ll stay here and watch him for you Ty.”

Tyreen looked up at Juniper, there were tears in both of their eyes and a look of understanding Tyreen had never seen from another person before. She had always thought her burdens were things she couldn’t share with anyone else, she hadn’t even considered that other people would feel powerless in such a situation. She figured that regular people just accepted that other peoples lives were out of their control. For Juniper to understand her pain and be willing to watch over Troy in her place, it touched her. Juniper was among the few people Tyreen considered a genuine friend and this only cemented that thought for her.

She got up slowly, feeling a bit dizzy. Perhaps she did need to eat more than she thought she did. She gave Juniper a small tired smile.

“Promise you’ll call if anything changes.”

“You’ll be the first to know hun.” Juni patted her shoulder and tilted her head towards the door. “Go on, go take care of yourself.”

[artificialqueens]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered, Chapter 5 (Crygi, Jan x Nicky) - Joley

ao3 link

Gigi’s back arched, her eyes squeezed shut. One hand gripped her comforter while the other fisted into the other girl’s hair. “Fuck, Crystal…”

The girl suddenly stopped her steady ministrations and looked up. “Excuse me?”

“What?” Gigi opened her eyes, only to look confused and disappointed at the sudden lack of contact.

“You just called me Crystal,” she replied, only to receive a blank expression in return. “My name is Emily.” She didn’t sound as angry as perhaps she could have. In fact, there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

On the other hand, Gigi wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Her face had already been red, but it was burning hotter than ever. Even in the poorly-lit room, it was very clear that the girl between her legs didn’t even resemble Crystal, which to her, made it even worse. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Whatever, it’s none of my business,” Emily shrugged it off. She sat there quietly for a moment before looking back up at her. “Do you want me to continue or…”

Gigi sat up and shook her head. “I’d love to, but, um, I’ll take a raincheck,” she mumbled sheepishly as she got up to search for her clothes. She just wanted to get the hell out of there, and fast.

“So, who is Crystal?” she asked, lighting up a cigarette, “must be a real beauty, huh?”

“Crystal is my best friend,” Gigi answered with a humorless laugh as she got dressed. “And… yeah, she is. I know, what a fucking cliche, right?” she sighed. “Doesn’t help that we’re pretending to be engaged,” she added, only to quickly follow up with “don’t ask.”

She chuckled, taking a long drag. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” she assured flatly. “But if you ask me, you should probably talk to her about this before it happens again with someone who’s gonna actually get pissed at you.”

Gigi rolled her eyes and pulled her bag over her shoulder. “Good thing I didn’t ask.”

——

Jan had been pacing around her room nervously for the past ten minutes. While she had considered what Heidi suggested, she wasn’t ready to just dive in and confess her feelings to Nicky. Instead, she decided to ease into it with the song she’d been so diligently practicing. When she sang she wasn’t scared. She didn’t have to think, she didn’t have to fear. And with the song not being in English, she didn’t have to worry about getting hung up on words and inflictions, she could just feel the music. And if nothing else, focusing on giving this her all would take her mind off of the wedding chaos.

‘Hey, are you ready to call?’ The text from Nicky popped up on her phone and finally got her to stand still. She took a breath, collecting herself. ‘Yeah, one sec :)’ she sent back, then looked at herself in the mirror once more before sitting in front of her laptop and calling Nicky.

“Bonne après-midi, my dear,” Nicky greeted cheerily. “Now, tell me what is so important. You used even more exclamation marks and emojis than usually. I was a bit concerned,” she teased.

Jan rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh stop, I’m just excited. I have a surprise for you, I’ve been working really hard on it,” she paused, waiting for Nicky to signal for her to continue. “I learned a French song and I wanna sing it for you.”

Nicky perked up in pleasant surprise and curiosity. “You did? But you don’t even speak French,” she furrowed her brows, “wait, do you?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No, no. But this song… I dunno, I listened to it and it made me think of you. Like, I could just feel it in my soul that it was the perfect fit,” she explained. “So, without further ado…” After clearing her throat, she started the music and began to sing. She lost herself in the music, the words she didn’t understand flowed with such ease. It wasn’t until the song ended that she was able to gauge Nicky’s reaction, and it caused her to frown a bit. “Are you okay?”

Nicky sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she quickly assured. She pushed her hair out of her face, blinking rapidly. “You have such a beautiful voice. It’s not even fair that you can just sing in another language so easily,” she feigned a soft laugh.

Jan took it as nothing more than high praise, which of course, she appreciated. “Aw, thank you. And before you know it, I’ll be able to sing to you in person,” she beamed.

“Yeah,” Nicky agreed, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Jan, that was a nice surprise.”

“I’m glad you liked it! Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I promised Heidi and Jackie I’d meet them for lunch. I’ll call you later though, okay?”

Nicky nodded, and the call ended shortly after. She sat back in her chair, putting her hand over her pounding heart. Sure, she had been aware of the budding feelings she had towards her American penpal, but it had been so easy to not focus on. They talked a few times a day for the most part, but it was otherwise up to her to distract herself, and she could do so fairly easily. But something about Jan singing that song, it brought everything she had felt forward, and it hit her like a ton of bricks.

Oh.

“Mon dieu,” she muttered under her breath and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was better or worse to become aware of how strong her feelings were knowing she was going to see Jan in person in less than a month. On one hand, she worried she would be going in hoping for too much and would end up disappointed. On the other, she couldn’t help but think that maybe it was a sign. And you can’t just ignore a sign, right?

She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them, hoping it would somehow give her a moment of clarity. Or better yet, she would suddenly be in New York and she would see Jan and everything would be all right. But nothing came of it, and she was left to sort out her feelings on her own.

Nicky groaned and lurched forward, then rested her head on the desk. “Vingt jours de plus…”

——

“Don’t you think doing an engagement photoshoot in Central Park is a little… cliché?” Gigi asked as she watched Crystal help Lemon fiddle with the lights.

Crystal shrugged. “It’s supposed to be cliché. It’ll make it more believable. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

“Then why are you all pouty?”

“Your dress is a lot bigger than mine and I feel outshined at my own wedding,” she replied, watching the way Gigi’s dress flowed with every move. It was truly a testament to Gigi’s designing abilities – with her dainty features and defined silhouette, she looked like a Disney princess. The more Crystal looked at her, the more she was convinced Gigi had stepped out of a cartoon and simply never told her.

Gigi giggled, covering her mouth as she did. “You’re not gonna be outshined,” she assured. “Look at your hair, whose eyes wouldn’t go right to that?” And to be fair, Crystal’s normal mess of curls was styled with a braid going across the crown of her head, and the rest was done into a teased-out ponytail. Normally, the two of them were the same height, but with the hairdo, it appeared that Crystal had a couple of inches on her.

Crystal tilted her head in thought. “Okay, you got me there,” she conceded.

“You guys ready?” Lemon asked when she had everything set up to her liking. “We have like, an hour and a half, two hours in this lighting, let’s make the most of it.”

Crystal and Gigi nodded, letting the shorter girl position them as she best saw fit. “Okay, look in love,” Lemon directed before she began snapping away.

As it turned out, Lemon didn’t need to give them a whole lot of further instruction. The fondness in their expressions, the tenderness in their touches, it flowed with a natural ease. Some passerbys would stop and look for a moment, some even snapping a picture of their own with their phone, but the faux-couple never lost focus. It was only one instruction that caught them off guard.

“Now kiss.”

The two of them froze, both understanding it was a perfectly logical request, but neither sure of how to approach it. What followed was a moment of awkward silence, then hesitant leaning in, and finally, their lips met in a gentle kiss.

“Good, now hold it,” Lemon continued, unphased by their odd behavior. She snapped a few more photos before looking up from her camera. “Alright, ladies. I think we got it,” she announced.

Crystal and Gigi lingered in the kiss for another moment before pulling back, leaving a new tension mounting between them. Neither of them could look the other in the eye, both knowing if they did, they’d start kissing again without the ability to stop.

But Lemon didn’t feel particularly inclined to facilitate whatever the hell was going on between them. “Anyway, I’ll email you guys the pics once they’re done. I’m gonna go now, some of us have actual girlfriends to spend time with,” she said, packing up her things. “Good luck with… this,” she said, gesturing between the two of them before leaving.

“So,” Crystal cleared her throat, “I think that went well.”

Gigi had opened her mouth to reply when – perhaps mercifully – they were interrupted when a woman came up to them.

The woman seemed friendly, maybe a bit tired. She was well-dressed, likely in her early thirties. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you,” she started, “but my daughter here wanted to meet the ‘princesses’,” she explained with a soft laugh.

Crystal and Gigi’s gazes drifted downward to the little girl, no more than four years old, shyly holding onto her mother’s leg. Their expressions softened and just like that, all of the tension melted away. They carefully crouched down to be eye-level with the child as her mother nudged her over. “Do you want your mommy to take a picture?” Crystal suggested to the girl.

The girl nodded eagerly, turning to look at her mom, who was already fishing through her purse for her phone. “Okay, Ayla,” her mom directed, “smile big!”

All three girls smiled brightly and Crystal and Gigi slowly got up as Ayla ran back to her mom. “Could you send that to me, actually?” Crystal asked, then gave the woman her number when she obliged.

When the two of them were alone again, there was a brief moment of worry that the tension would build back up, but the whole incident was still providing a successful distraction. “Oh my god, this is so cute,” Crystal cooed.

Gigi rested her chin on Crystal’s shoulder to look. “Aw, yeah, that’s adorable,” she agreed, her arms absentmindedly looping around Crystal’s waist. “I didn’t know you were so good with kids,” she added.

Crystal shrugged, having never really thought about it before. “I guess so, I was always around my cousins growing up and being one of the older girls puts you on default babysitting duty,” she explained, becoming aware of Gigi’s hold on her as she spoke and realizing there was nowhere else she’d rather be, even if it came with the stipulation of standing in the middle of Central Park in a wedding dress.

“We should get changed,” Gigi said, though she didn’t make any immediate attempts to move from Crystal. But eventually she did let go and stand upright. “I’ll order an uber.”

——

Back in Crystal’s bedroom, she and Gigi had long since changed out of their dresses, taken off their makeup, and let their hair flow loose and free. They lay sprawled out on Crystal’s bed, barely watching whatever was on TV. This was their normal, when they were able to turn off their brains and just enjoy each other’s company.

At least, until Gigi broke the silence, clearing her throat first. “I think we need to work on acting like a couple.”

Crystal furrowed her brows and sat up. “What do you mean? I thought we’ve been pulling it off pretty well so far.”

“Come on, you have to admit that kiss was pretty awkward,” she retorted.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” she conceded. “So what, you think we should practice kissing? I haven’t used that line on a girl since tenth grade,” she teased.

Gigi turned a bright red at that, though she insisted, “it’s not a line!” in a voice that was a little too strained to be convincing. “But the time until Nicky’s visit is dwindling, and this all hinges on how convincing we are as a couple. So, you know, no pressure, but…”

“But Jan’s fate lies in our ability to tongue wrestle. Got it,” Crystal finished with a firm nod. This was what she did best – make a dumb joke to deflect from the fact that she was dying to kiss her and get it right this time. “C’mon baby, kiss me like you mean it,” she said in a comically ‘sexy’ manner.

And Gigi did, taking it as a chance at redemption. She cupped Crystal’s face and pressed a deep kiss against her lips and suddenly, all bets were off. As soon as she felt Crystal kiss back, she poured everything into the embrace.

Crystal was fairly certain Gigi had stolen her breath in the kiss, as she found herself forgetting how to do anything but kiss back like her life depended on it. She grabbed onto Gigi’s shirt, eagerly pulling her closer until she fell back on the bed with Gigi on top of her, their legs intertwining.

Gigi couldn’t have held back if she tried. She yanked Crystal’s hair to expose her neck, then bit down and left a hickey in the dead center of one side. It just made it more convincing if she left proof that they were in a committed, intimate relationship, of course. In fact, she left one on the other side for good measure. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she muttered, sitting back and straddling Crystal’s waist and gazing down at her.

Crystal was fairly certain her heart had never beaten so fast in her life. Being with Gigi was nothing like her hookup with Jan. Things were fun and slow and light with Jan, compared to how hard, fast, and passionate Gigi was. She supposed that was where the difference between a friend and lover lies – Jan was warm and comfortable, but Gigi lit a fire in her, they weren’t even undressed and she was already aching for her to fan the flames. “Please don’t stop.”

The quiet plea was music to Gigi’s ears and nothing in the world could’ve stopped her from obliging. She tugged off her own t-shirt, now significantly less dressed than Crystal, having forgone a bra. But she made quick work of remedying that, stripping Crystal from the waist-up and placing a trail of kisses from right above her navel, all the way back up to her collarbone. “Couldn’t if I tried,” she cooed.

“Mm…” Crystal exhaled softly, reacting to every touch with a silent cry for more. She loved the way Gigi’s lips felt against her – on her neck, on her breasts, the way her tongue swirled around her nipples and flicked against the metal of her piercing. “Fuck…”

Gigi moved back down Crystal’s body, tugging off her shorts and panties in one swift motion, then made herself comfortable between Crystal’s thighs. She had only just started when Crystal stopped her.

“Wait, wait, I wanna get you too.”

It took Gigi a moment to understand what Crystal meant. “Oh! Okay, yeah,” she got up and repositioned herself on top, her head between Crystal’s thighs and her legs resting on either side of her head, letting Crystal shift underneath her until she was straddling her face. They both started off slow, but neither could keep the teasing pace up for long, picking up in speed and fervor.

Gigi balanced herself with one hand, using both her tongue and the fingers of her opposite hand to fuck Crystal with a pace that bordered on erratic. Her mind was both frantic and clouded with lust and emotions she was in no position to decipher. She was only loosely aware that Crystal was struggling to keep up with her, and she didn’t care. It was her so it felt good.

And Crystal actually liked the challenge of trying to keep up with Gigi. Her senses were in overdrive with how incredible she made her feel, and it spurred her on all the more. It did become more difficult as she neared her peak – her vision started to get hazy, her breathing more labored, and she couldn’t focus on anything else when she came with a loud groan. She took a moment to catch her breath, then readily and eagerly got Gigi off as well.

When they were both done, Gigi pushed herself off of Crystal and lay beside her. She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close with her arms securely around her waist. “I think we can pull off being a couple now,” she mumbled, face buried in Crystal’s hair.

“Yeah,” Crystal breathed out with a hint of a laugh, “we’re such good actresses.” And she was just glad Gigi wasn’t able to see the grin on her face, because now she couldn’t even convince herself that she wasn’t in love with Gigi.

[johnandrasjaqobis]

(I went into this with very little plan and just a lot of feelings and it shows so uh Critical Role C2EP98 spoilers for what it’s worth. Because I love Fjord a lot and he needs a hug.)

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

He could feel a current, but there was no temperature to it. It didn’t seem to move in any predictable pattern, which would have made staying in one spot difficult normally.

Except it didn’t.

Fjord was motionless. Suspended in what his mind told him was water, even though he couldn’t feel it like he knew he was supposed to. It did seem to be flowing in one particular direction, even if it was going about it in a strange way.

Some instinct told him he could go with it. Should go with it. Let go of whatever was keeping him stationary and let the water take him where it would.

Am I dead?

His eyes jerked open at that thought. There wasn’t much to see, and that sent another spike of panic through him because it seemed to confirm the theory. Either he was dreaming, which seemed unlikely given the chain of events that were starting to piece together again, or --

Fjord’s hands flew to his chest, scrabbling at the spot that he now remembered had been stabbed clean through.

He remembered being in the crow’s nest. Taking hit after hit from attacks that looked all too familiar. Then waking up for a few brief seconds on the deck of the ship with only a vague inkling of how he’d gotten there.

Hearing Beau screaming. Seeing, distantly, a cloud of iridescent beetles that heralded Caduceus’s arrival.

He remembered the quick relief, knowing Caduceus was coming. Knowing the others wouldn’t be far behind him. Trying to use whatever healing he’d already gotten to get up, get back in the fight, get these bastards off his ship --

And then he remembered a sharp, fresh pain through his chest. And nothing else.

“I’m dead,” Fjord said aloud to the water that somehow wasn’t water.

There was no apparent wound on his chest, but he could feel the cold pit that sat there -- the cold pit that he now had some suspicions about.

You are, the water replied.

His hands dropped, and Fjord instinctively looked around for a source of the voice. Not that it was even a voice, and that much felt familiar.

He could see the water swirl and could see the vague shape of a humanoid figure. Most of it was nondescript, constantly shifting, but he focused on the face that was simultaneously right in front of him and all around him.

Melora’s smile was warm, and Fjord felt an equally warm current brush across his cheek like fingertips.

You are, she repeated, but you fought valiantly.

Fjord let out a breath that shook, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“But they got it, then.” He pressed one hand against his chest again. “They were after this damn orb, right? Fuckers just carve me open --”

Do not doubt your friends so easily. She seemed to pause, as if contemplating. Or watching something he couldn’t see. The tides are turning. They will not relinquish you any easier than you would them.

Well, that was good at least. Fjord swallowed. Hesitated as he felt the water tug at him again.

“I should’ve seen it coming,” he muttered, “should’ve been more careful, he -- I knew he’d try something, I knew --"

The current cradled the side of his face and Fjord let his eyes close again, letting out a shaky breath he knew he didn't really need.

Some weight seemed to return. It felt like he settled on the ground, and when he opened his eyes the surroundings had shifted. There were tall waving plants around him, shadows of what might have been some kind of ethereal fish darting by. He could see the water now, the odd undulations of what might have been moonlight reflecting off underwater waves.

He got the impression Melora had done this as some kind of comfort, something a little more familiar than that empty space.

Fjord wasn’t too proud to admit that it was definitely a comfort.

She had changed, too. Seemed a little more...corporeal. Hard to pin down any defining features, hard to tell what she actually looked like, but now with a visible hand on his face.

“You fought,” she said softly. It was an actual voice now, though still somehow surrounding as if the water was echoing it. “That is all that matters.”

Fjord made himself breathe, one hand pressing against his chest where he knew the sword had plunged through. He knew he should be more scared, he should be panicking, but even as that thought went through his mind, he was being pulled gently into a hug.

The tears started then, but they were more from relief than anything else. He had died -- he had died -- but he was here. That damn serpent didn’t have enough claim to take him in death. It wasn’t some cold dark pit, but a warm and solid embrace, a hand stroking through his hair.

A quiet assurance of, “I am proud of you, my Stone.”

Fjord wasn’t sure how long it lasted. A logical part of him figured time didn’t really have as much meaning here anyway. It was only when the current around him shifted that he focused again, trying to stop his breath from trembling.

“Do I have to go?” he asked, and Melora stepped back to consider him with a small smile.

“One way or another,” she said.

The current had been consistent before, not strong, but urging him along regardless. Now there seemed to be a different one, a separate flow, pulling in the opposite direction.

He had an idea of what that might be, and there was another surge of relief that it meant someone was around to cast it.

Fjord cast a look around at the strange sea, free of giant yellow eyes or choking tentacles. Looked back.

Heard himself say, “Death is natural, though.”

Melora’s smile grew, and she took his face in both hands this time, leaning close.

“It is. And one day you will meet the one meant to guide you on. But,” her voice lowered, almost conspiratorially, “raging against death is also the way of every living thing. Most who come this far do not find themselves with a choice in the matter, but thanks to your friends, you do.”

 “So they’re okay?” His voice cracked, and Fjord found himself not caring. “They did it, they’re okay?”

The currents tugged again as if in response. A surge of determination came with it.

Fjord looked over his shoulder and then squared them, swallowing again as he nodded.

“I have to go back,” he said. “I have to, we have to finish whatever the fuck this is -- those things might have friends, and the war is still --”

Something caught in his throat and he cut off, the deep breath still shaking.

He could almost feel the sword in his chest. Knew that this could very well happen again, that going back meant more fights and more risks and more chances of seeing his friends hurt --

He could almost feel a large hand clasped around his. Almost hear the quiet words of the spell that was urging him back to his body. Almost hear the pleading whispers of the friends he’d sworn to protect.

Fjord turned back to Melora, his nod firm even as his hands shook.

“I have to go back,” he repeated. “They need me.”

She nodded slowly herself. “They do. You do not yet know how much.”

Melora leaned down, pressed a kiss to his hairline, and then Fjord blinked and she was gone.

You are my paladin, the water said. Fight for me, and fight for them.

He was pulling air into his lungs like it was the first time, and an uncomfortable amount of water came with it.

Fjord choked, his back arching instinctively as he coughed. He was drenched, cold, and literally every part of him was flaring with pain.

He wasn’t dead.

His breath came back, and he tried to slow it down because it felt like every single rib was broken in three different places. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, and another to notice the tight grip of a large hand around one of his.

There was the feeling of a collectively released breath around him as the others stared down at him, all different levels of broken and bloody themselves. He didn’t see Jester and there was a split second of panic before he heard her voice a little ways off, rushing through a spell of her own.

There were ethereal beetles swarming around them. There was Caduceus right above him, looking one short breath away from breaking down in some way, but covering all of that with stark relief.

He wasn’t dead.

Fjord tried for a grin. Felt it come out as more of a grimace. Squeezed the hand in his as best he could.

“Hi, Caduceus.”