#and incidentally yes the chapter is nearly done

[last-hourglass]

Heyyyy~ question of the “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to” variety, but…. Is there any chance we’re gonna get another Last Hourglass chapter within the foreseeable future?

I LOVE your fic so much and I eat up your writing every single time I read it, and I am BEYOND excited to see where it goes!!

I appreciate the enthusiasm of the latter half of this ask so I am going to try my best to be polite about this.

Please do not ask me if/when this fic or any of my fics are going to be updated. I work a full time job. I have other projects to work on. I have straight up fallen out of this hyperfixation. I really, really would love to see both of my ROTTMNT fics through to the end, and I ALWAYS love to see new comments, but being outright asked about when new chapters are coming out or if they're happening soon just feeds my burnout even more.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk everyone

[anabsolutefreak]

Chapter 22:Delightful Chaos

This is a canon adjacent full campaign based story involving my original TAV character, the full BG3 crew and, of course, our favorite undead high elf. I created this story to help me get through an exceptionally difficult time in my life and so, you might notice Tav's story is a little more atypical than some. Be advised that the story I have created has some mature themes including violence, kink, mental health and self harm. I will be placing warnings on each individual chapter when any of these themes are included so please be aware. I hope you enjoy. Summary: A visit to the Grymforge yeilds two awesome weapons and uncontrollable laughter. Then, later that night, we find out what happens when our resident wizard isn't careful enough with his culinary mushrooms and, incidentally, gets the whole camp high. Mature Content Warning: SMUT, nudity, alcohol, psychedelics, mentions of trauma, foreplay, finger play, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration.

Full master list for series chapters is here.

Embrae rolled out of the way, careful to stay on the small platform as the automaton’s brutal sword split the air right where she had been standing. “A little help!” She shouted at the others as she hurled an ice spike toward the hulking humanoid form made up of gold and silver metal. 

Another arrow hit the thing from behind. It did little but it did draw the things attention away from Embrae and onto Astarion. 

“Remind me again why we had to come here!” shouted the vampire as he too dodged a strike from the metal monster. 

Gale hit the thing with magic missile. “I told you, the adamantium forge hasn’t been seen in centuries! The opportunity to see—” he yelped as the monster turned to the wizard. “Um, Karlach?!”

“Hold on there, squishy,” she teased. She leaped through the air, axe raised, and brought it down on her enemy's head with a clang, then artfully pushed off of its side to land on a platform next to Lae’zel narrowly missing the magma pooling around them. “Hey, I just came because I was promised a new badass weapon. Yeah, you great metal arse!” She shouted as the automaton whirled on her. “Come see Momma K!” Karlach was enjoying this way too much, thought Embrae. 

Its scream was the sound of screeching metal and the hissing of steam as it took the bait and hulked towards the tiefling. 

“Everyone hit it with everything you’ve got!” Screamed Embrae. Her ranged attacks had been all but useless on it but if they overwhelmed the thing, it would allow Karlach and Lae’zel to hit it hard. 

It worked, as the creature was hit on all sides by magic missel, arrows, and nearly ineffective ice spikes, it teetered directly in front of the barbarian and the fighter, its head swiveling uncertainly as it tried to pinpoint all of its attackers. The two women didn’t allow it to recover, rushing forward and slashing at it ruthlessly. Karlach laughed maniacally and leaped onto its back, driving her axe into the gap between its shoulder plates and head. There was a hiss of steam as the creature froze in mid-strike and fell forward. 

“Yes!” Shouted Karlach as she stood atop it. The magma drained around them, leaving the forge once again clear. The tiefling stomped down on the metal monster's back and danced happily atop it. “Momma’s getting a new axe dammit!”

Embrae was hunched over panting and gasping from heat and exertion but she looked up at her friend and had to laugh. “I think this climate must agree with you after all Karlach. Also, you’re insane.”

Karlach hopped down. “And you love it.” She grinned. 

“I know I do,” grinned Astarion. “Very well done, indeed.”

“I too, would like an adamantium sword, until such time when I am granted a silver one,” said Lae’zel. 

Embrae wiped the ever-present sweat from her forehead and groaned. “Well, we’ve got the molds and some ore, why don’t you see if you can’t try making anything without getting attacked again… Um, I’m just going to sit a minute.” She plopped down on her butt and rifled through her pack, pulling out a limp water skin. She opened it and tilted it to her mouth with a groan. Empty. 

Shadowheart put a hand on her shoulder and offered hers. Embrae accepted gratefully. The water was almost as warm as the air around them but at least it was wet. The cleric smiled and walked off to see if any injuries needed tending. 

The wizard was bent over the forge talking to Karlach and Lae’zel as they tried to follow the instructions in the book they had picked up earlier from the myconids. Evidently, Flomph Mating Rituals had actually been a magically encoded instruction manual for operating the forge. Astarion had simply appeared beside her, as was his way, and was staring at something beyond the great metal disc that housed the forge. He was sweating too, his pale skin gleaming with moisture… Somehow, it only made him more appealing. “What are you looking at?” She asked curiously. She stood up next to him. 

“Just down there, on that little island of rocks. Do you see it?” He pointed. 

She squinted. She could see it sticking out of the magma. “What, the chest? Oh Astarion, you can’t be serious.”

“Oh come on,” he said. “They get to make brand new toys. I want to go see what kind of treasure someone would hide here.” 

“Fine,” she growled, rolling her eyes. “You still have that ring on?” He had found a ring that allowed him to cast misty step. She could cast it without jewelry, she thought a bit smugly. Halsin had taught her. He smiled happily and held out a hand to show her the white stone in confirmation. 

“We’ll be right back, guys!” she called back. “Astarion wants to go treasure hunting. 

“Just be careful,” called Shadowheart back. And stay clear of the Lava Elemental!”

Embrae and Astarion Misty Stepped their way from the Grymforge to the small island of rocks. “Ugh,” she said. It’s so hot, Astarion. Just grab your treasure and let’s go.”

He tutted, “Such impatience.” He wiped the sweat from his face. “I’m inclined to agree though.” He approached the small ornate chest and kneeled in front of it with his thieves tools. Moments later, the lock clicked and he swung the lid open. “Scrolls,” he said rifling through, some topaz, a few potions, and— oh hello, what’s this?”

“What is it?” Embrae asked, peering over his shoulder. He held a brass amulet by the chain depicting what appeared to be a sun setting over silver waves. 

“He shrugged. I’m not sure— definitely magic though, I can feel it.” A queer expression came over him and he shook his head. “Well, nothing overly exciting. We should get back up there— it really is hotter than the hells. She nodded and they disappeared and reappeared at the edge of the Grymforge once again. 

“Find anything good?” asked Shadowheart, seeing them. 

“Nothing too exciting just—” 

She was interrupted by a bark of laughter behind her. Puzzled, she turned. Astarion was still holding the amulet in his hand, grinning. “Are— you alright, Astarion?” She asked. 

He laughed again, louder this time, “ Oh yes, I was just thinking,” he said. “We— we could turn into squids at any point you know.”

“I’m not really sure how that’s funny but,” 

“Oh my dear,” he said between increasingly uncontrolled giggles. “It’s hilarious. You’re hilarious too. I—” he broke off and hunched over, raw uncontrolled laughter pouring out of him. He gasped and tried to talk again but the laughter soon brought him to his knees. It would have been adorable, were she not worried about him. 

“What the hells is going on with him?” Asked Shadowheart. The others had noticed the spectacle by now also and were approaching the elf watching as he writhed around on his back, apparently gripped with hilarity. Embrae’s eyes locked on the amulet gripped tightly in his fist. That must be it, she realized. 

She kneeled next to the convulsing elf and tried to prize it from his grasp, thinking she’d toss it into the magma below. Instead, as soon as her skin touched the warm metal, her hand locked around his. This was funny, wasn’t it? Flying machines, other worlds, talking brains, for god's sake. The laughter was intensifying and she realized too late that it was because she started laughing too. As the delightful feeling gripped her entirely, she lost control of her muscles and fell forward onto Astarion. She was dimly aware of her other companions, looking down at them with bemused expressions on their faces. They must look like lunatics, thrashing about on the floor like this. The thought only made her laugh harder. Finally, the feeling subsided enough that they were able to sit up and another figure was staring at them, purple, transparent, and grinning at them. “How unfortunate,” the man said. “Alas, though must do, hehehehehehe. Return me, take me home, and though shalt grow with blessings!”

Astarion spoke, his voice still raw with laughter. “Return you to where, to whom?”

“To my granddaughter. Shira Clarwen. Serves Ilmater, she doth. She waits in Wyrm’s crossing. Take me there and though shalt bath in her golden gifts. Oh, though shalt be blessed indeed! Hehehehe!”

“Are you a ghost?” Asked Embrae. “What happened to you?

“A ghost? HAHA! I am sunlight on water, dew on grass. Sharrens broke my body. But my spirit, they could not. Not completely! Hehee! Though shalt return me home, it is written. 

Embrae looked at Astarion, trying not to giggle. “What do you think?” It didn’t seem like the wisest decision but— she was enjoying this demented spirit. 

He snorted. “I don’t see why not. Alright, we accept. But you’re riding in my pack. I can’t risk breaking into a fit of giggles mid-battle. It would be tremendously embarrassing.”

“Heheee! Wonderful Wear me though and I shall walk with you— grant you my power.” The spirit disappeared into the amulet and Astarion placed it into his pack quickly. 

“Well,” he said, looking up at their audience. Embrae was still half sprawled over him and neither of them had regained full control over their faces which were still plastered with idiotic smiles. “That was certainly something.” 

“Are you two quite finished making fools of yourselves?” hissed Lae’zel. 

Yeesh, maybe they should make her wear the thing for a while…. What would she even sound like laughing? Embrae struggled to her feet. “Did you figure out your weapons?”

“Got one cooking right now,” said Karlach. Just waiting and enjoying the show.” She grinned. 

“You know I’ve told you before, Astarion,” said Shadowheart sternly. “You shouldn’t up and grab every piece of mysterious treasure you find. I’m tired of removing curses.”

“Telling Astarion not to make off with an enchanted doo dad is like telling Gale not to eat the damn thing.” Embrae laughed. 

“Hey!” shouted both men in simultaneous outrage and she and her other companions smirked. 

“Just speaking the truth.”

There was a sharp hiss as the press behind them clicked open. “Looks like someone’s got a new weapon,” smiled Embrae. Let’s finish up here so we can get the hell out of this heat. 

***

That night as Lae’zel and Karlach compared and gushed over their beautiful new weapons, Embrae sat with her lute held limp in her hands near the still, dark water. They had made camp near the docks in an attempt to cool off, although no one dared bath in the water there. God knew what was lurking in that. Still, Embrae enjoyed the constant breeze that made its way from the rest of the Underdark. It was cool enough to offer relief from the near-constant heat she had endured the last few days. 

The music was thankfully less this far from the Myconids but she could hear it just the same, that low, mournful tune, playing in the darkness beyond. She could also hear from the water itself, the subtle whisper of a tune. Not a melody, really, but maybe the idea of one. She focused on it and her fingers moved to her strings, plucking a dark and rich melody. She had some idea what the words should be too and she found herself mouthing them voicelessly. 

The deep is where we all begin, 

Sink B’neath with us again. 

Your weary soul be soothed and made anew. 

Anew. 

Her fingers paused and she stared at the black pool. She felt almost compelled to take a dip. Something was down there, sure enough. 

“Fancy skinny dipping, darling?” asked Astarion plopping gracefully down next to her. 

She shook her head with a grin. “Normally I might take you up on that but I’m pretty sure there’s something down there that would like to drown us.”

“Hmph. Well, drown you, perhaps. I don’t technically need to breathe.”

“Won’t help if something with a huge mouth snaps its teeth over you.”

The elf eyed the lake cautiously. “Quite,” he agreed a little more soberly. “Wine?” He asked, handing her his goblet. 

“Mmm, got any white?” She teased. She didn’t like white wine much more than he did. 

He grimaced. “If I didn’t like you, I might toss you down there just to see if your creature theory was correct. Now try it,” he ordered. “I swiped it from one of the Duergar crates. It’s— not bad.” 

It wasn’t. The wine was deep and aromatic, almost fruity, and it burned pleasantly on the way down. She sighed appreciatively and handed the cup back to Astarion. 

“So,” she said. “We head up to the surface tomorrow… and the shadow curse.” 

“Yes, well. I’ve never been particularly afraid of the dark, my dear. Although the way our friend Halsin describes it, it does sound dreadful. 

“Well yes,” she said. “But I was thinking. If we find the answers we’re looking for at moonrise, we may be free of these tadpoles soon.”

He was quiet, sipping his wine and looking out over the water. 

“Do you think he’ll be able to compel you when that happens?” She asked the question cautiously. She didn’t want to upset him but the worry had been on her mind. 

“I’m not so sure,” he sighed. “Certainly, if I return to Baldur’s gate without the tadpole, I assume he will. But I’ve never had the opportunity to test the limits to his influence... distance-wise, I mean.”

 “Hmmm.” She thought about that. They could run, she supposed. If he wanted, she would go with him, and stay far away from Baldur’s gate. Perhaps they could return here, to the Underdark safe from the sun and far away from both of their respective pasts. A sudden question occurred to her. “Were you ever—” she hesitated. Maybe she shouldn’t dredge up the past like this on him, “Never mind.”

He turned to her, a pale brow raised. “What?” he asked. 

“Sorry, I just wondered if you ever were able to resist his influence.”

He said nothing for a moment as he handed her back the wine. She drank, waiting. “For the most part, the answer is no. A vampire spawn is less than a slave, Embrae. We are an extension of our master, bound to him, body and soul. He speaks and our bodies simply act.”

“For the most part?” She asked. 

“There was one time,” he said quietly. “But I try my best not to remember it.”

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s quite alright.” He leaned back on his hands and stretched, closing his eyes and tilting his face towards the darkness as he might have done the sun. “What about you?” he asked her suddenly. 

he looked up, startled. “What about me?” she asked. 

“You told me Lithishim had some measure of influence on you. In what way?”

“Oh, that. It was much more subtle than what you described, I suppose. She could be vicious when she chose and she did but for the most part, she simply made me enjoy being around her, doing what she asked.” She shrugged, she was still unsure how to explain her relationship with and servitude to Lithishim. 

“Did you ever try to leave?”

“Not at first, no,” she admitted. “I was alone in a new world, completely disoriented and she set herself up as my savior. She agreed to help me, feed me, house me. I was— charmed by her really. But the more I used the power she taught me, the power she gave me, the more influence she seemed to gain over me.” She laughed. “I actually felt, happy to do what she wanted for at least 6 months. I’m ashamed to say, I enjoyed manipulating people for her.” She shook her head, bitterly. The wine was working its way through her system and the admission came more easily than it might have normally. 

“What changed?” he asked quietly. 

“I did— I think. I couldn’t remember a thing when I arrived in Faerun… and I felt— empty, almost, hollow. Nothing much seemed to matter to me, except for her. I felt nothing except when I was with her or when using the power she taught me. But one day, I was walking in Baldur’s gate. I had gone to do an errand for Lithishim.” She remembered it vividly, the smell of the sea coming from the docks, the sun burning down on her, and a young woman selling flowers to a group of eager men. “It was as though I woke up, really woke up. Bits of memories came flooding back and then the feeling of— oh hell-- just feelings, every kind you could imagine: rage, grief, sorrow, joy— love,” she said throwing a quick glance at him. “It hurt. It hurt so badly that I ended up on my knees in the middle of the street.” She chuckled. “From that day forward, I was just—different. I felt the music that I made, and the words that I sang. When I influenced others I felt them too, their fears, their ambitions, their soul—. And I felt unhappy about what I was doing to people…” She laughed. “It’s like I was a monster and suddenly grew a conscious overnight… I tried to keep going as I was, doing what she asked but I was so deeply unhappy. I started to rebel, question, and challenge Lithishim. She grinned up at him ruefully. 

“I don’t imagine she appreciated that,” he said, returning the smile. 

“That’s an understatement. She tightened my leash quite a bit after that. She wouldn’t let me leave, save to perform. I spent most of my time cooped up in my room behind an arcane lock. She resorted to cruelty when I got ornery enough, psychic torture, mind games, that sort of thing until I started behaving again… which I eventually did.” She glazed over the more traumatic parts of her story. She didn’t like talking about the torments she suffered any more than Astarion did. “But I was never the same after that. I had been devoted to her, you know, loved her, as much as I was able to back then. But from that point forward, all I wanted was to be away from her— free… of course, that didn’t happen until a slimy tentacled monster snatched me up, jammed a tadpole in my eye, and tried to enslave me to the Absolute instead.”

He chuckled. “Yes, it is a strange sort of freedom, isn’t it?” 

“It really is.”

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I swear there’s something of your story that sounds familiar somehow.”

Embrae felt a sudden flare of cautious hope in her chest. “Really?”

“Yes it’s just— I can’t put my finger on it. Something I might have known— before, perhaps.” He frowned and Embrae felt the hope slip away like water through a sieve. “Still, if I knew something at one point, there’s a good bet someone else might remember something I don’t. Perhaps if our journey does lead us to Baldur’s Gate, we can ask around.”

“Maybe,” she said slowly. “But where would I even start?”

“With Fae lore, of course. I think you were spot on. Your mistress seems to have Fae written all over her.” He looked at her earnestly. “I can help you find someone, an expert perhaps on fae. There are several high elves and wood elves alike who are obsessed with the subject, you know.” 

She giggled. the wine was settling pleasantly across her mind now, making her feel warm and comfortable. She was starting to notice colors that she hadn’t noticed before and they seemed to dance and pulse behind her eyes. “Not if I help you first,” she teased. “Don’t you have a vampire to brutally murder once we reach the city?”

He growled in approval, his eyes shining liquid red. “You know,” he said, his voice husky, “when you talk like that, it makes me rather want to take you right here on this dock.” He crawled towards her and nestled his face into her neck, planting a slow kiss on two fresh marks as he did. She had insisted she feed after she had eaten since he hadn’t been able to hunt again that day. 

She laughed feeling a pleasant tingle at the thought. “That may be the wine talking.” Although she hadn’t had very much, she was feeling a bit— funny. Her body felt fuzzy around the edges, her mind throbbing with a slow pleasant rhythm. 

“I’m quite sure it’s not,” he growled into her skin. He sat up and looked at her. His red eyes were as captivating as ever only now she realized that his pupils were completely blown. Odd…

“Well, it’s not very private, out here,” she whispered, nodding towards the others. 

“They seem to be occupied, themselves, pet.” He placed his hand on her jaw and turned her to look towards camp. What the hell?

Karlach and Wyll her dancing and giggling without actually touching, grinning at one another in what could only be considered an amorous fashion. Halsin was completely naked and seemed to be in deep conversation with one of his carved ducks, and Gale was creating fireworks as he lectured an invisible crowd. These were all odd, but Embrae’s jaw dropped when she saw what Lae’zel and Shadowheart were doing. Shadowehart was firmly planted in the gythyanki’s lap, her limbs completely wrapped around her. Their mouths moved frantically against each other as they moaned. She flushed and giggled, turning away. Her insides had turned to liquid sunshine although her stomach seemed to churn slightly uncomfortable beneath the sensation. “What’s happened to them all?” 

His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close. He nibbled on her ear and the sensation shot straight to her core. “I don’t know,” he said between nibbles. “But I suspect that it may have something to do with the wizard’s cooking.” 

Embrae looked with some alarm at the empty bowl sitting beside her. They had been low on foodstuffs and the wizard had mentioned proudly something about the mushroom stew he planned to make that evening. “Oh, shit,” she said. She stood up and wobbled. Her surroundings seemed to expand and then contract around her. Every part of her body tingled. It wasn’t unpleasant but it was— unexpected. Astarion followed her up and pulled her against him so that her back was pressed firmly against him. She could feel his arousal against her ass as he kissed and nibbled playfully at her ear. 

“Hold on,” she said hazily, “You didn’t eat the soup though.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you did… And then you let me make a meal out of you,” he growled. “Although, now I have another sort of meal in mind.” He ran a cool tongue up to the tip of her ear and she groaned. Whatever was running through her system, he had clearly gotten a hefty dose of it from her blood. He continued to tug insistently at her ear and a hand moved under her shirt, cupping one breast. 

“Oh gods,” she whimpered. “What did that wizard feed us?”

“I don’t know,” said Astarion dreamily, “but it’s delightful.” He pinched her nipple between his long fingers and she yelped. 

“Ok, alright,” she laughed. If they were going on a wizard stew-induced high, she supposed they might as well take advantage of it. Taking things slow be damned. She pulled away but grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her towards his tent. They passed the wizard who was saying something about the intricacies of the weave and the importance of feeding tressym companions correctly, Karlach and Wyll who were dancing about and blushing like teenaged lovers, and they stepped over the cleric and the gythyanki who were now naked and engaged completely in one another.

Astarion and Embrae giggled as they fell over the entangled women and into his tent. He let her go and stood only to let the sides of the tent down and give them some privacy. This may have been redundant given that three of her friends were already naked and two of them were making a show in front of everyone, but still, she appreciated the thin wall of fabric between them and the chaos outside. 

She looked up at him, his lean, muscular figure silhouetted against the tent wall as he gazed down at her. It was dark but her dark vision allowed her to see him in shades of gray. His eyes, almost black now in the dim light and under the influence of whatever mushroom they had ingested roamed over her body, hungry and intent. 

When he moved, it was so quickly she scarcely noticed until he had pushed her backward onto the pillows, devouring her lips in a frantic, hungry rhythm. He pulled back and grabbed her by the chin. “I’m going to make you scream my name tonight,” he growled at her. 

“The others,” she whispered. They were right outside. Did she even care?

“The others be damned,” he said pulling her into another kiss. The kiss lacked his usual artistry and restraint. It was anxious, urgent, and completely feral. She felt his teeth bite down on her lip, not hard, but enough that she tasted blood and she gasped as he sucked hard on the small wound. She grinned, delighted as he pressed urgently against her. She returned the favor in kind when he made to pull away, biting down hard on his lower lip as she grasped his ears with each hand and pinched the tips of them. The action elicited a delicious yelp from the elf that turned quickly into a low moan as she continued to rub and stroke. 

“Gods,” he gasped when she finally released his lip. It was swollen and a bit of blood glistened there. “What the hells have you done to me?”

“No more than you’ve done to me,” she whispered pulling at the soft fabric of his white shirt. He obliged her unspoken request and raised his arms. The shirt came off revealing plains of smooth pale skin and lean muscle. She wasn’t wearing much herself, hot as she’d been, just a too-long shirt with no bra. He made quick work of the garment and she heard the buttons pop as he ripped it off of her. She wore only underwear under the shirt. These he kneeled over and ripped off with his teeth. Then he sat up, pulling her up with him and only his still unfortunately clothed lap. There, he took his time, lavishing attention on each of her breasts as his right hand snaked down to play and fondle her clit. She threw her head back and bit her sore lip as she fought to stay quiet. He looked up at her and reached around with his other hand gripping her short hair almost painfully in the back pulling her face down to look at him. His eyes were fierce and alert as he said, “I told you, Darling, I’m going to make you scream my name. Don’t you dare hold out on me.” 

She whimpered and her lips parted in a low moan as his other hand pressed hard into her, pressing forward to find her g-spot. He grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming. “That’s a good girl,” he crooned. He continued to plunge two fingers in and out of her as his thumb made languid circles around her swollen flesh. Her hips began to move of their own accord then, grinding down on the damnable fabric that covered his arousal, begging for more. 

His skin was so soft, so smooth beneath her fingers as she explored him. They moved across the planes of his chest, up his long, graceful neck, along his jawline, and across his shoulders. Her mind was so clouded by lust, wine, and questionable mushroom soup that it took her a moment to realize that her fingers were tracing over his back, feeling across the raised and jagged ridges of his scars. She realized that Astarion had gone quite still. “Sorry,” she whispered and began to lift her hands. 

“No,” he said, his voice sharp and commanding. “Leave them there.” He shuddered against her. “Touch me, please,” he in a softer almost desperate voice. She obeyed, tracing her fingers softly along the complex patterns etched into his skin as he remained locked into stillness, his breathing harsh and uneven. She could almost see them, she thought, the jagged script sprawling across his back. She found herself wondering what it had looked like when they were fresh and she shivered at the thought. He inhaled a ragged breath against her. “Enough,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“Sorry,” she whispered again, letting her hands fall away from his skin. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder instead. 

“No,” he said hazily, placing an urgent kiss on her cheek. “Please don’t be sorry.” The hand that had remained firmly against her sensitive flesh began to move again and she felt herself grinding into the sensation. 

“Astarion,” she growled against him. “You’re driving me crazy.” 

He chuckled lightly and removed his hand, causing her to whimper in protest. Then he moved forward, pressing her against the bed, and whispered into her ear as he ground his clothed erection up against her. “Oh my dear,” he whispered. “That was my intention.” He kissed her swollen lips. “Now,” he said, staring at her beneath his lashes. “You are going to tell me exactly what you want.”

Embrae’s mind whirled in a confused, pleasurable haze. “You,” she whimpered. “I want you.” 

“That’s sweet,” he said grabbing her hand and kissing it. “But I’m afraid I’m going to need a little more than that. I want you to tell me exactly what. you. want.” He accentuated each of the last words with a small thrust against her.

“I— specifically, you mean?” She asked nervously. Putting what she wanted into words sounded unspeakably dirty. She blushed. 

He grinned at her wickedly. “Yes. I won’t do a single thing until you tell me.” 

She swallowed, thinking frantically. “Well, um, for a start. I want your pants off.” 

He grabbed her wrists and dragged them down to his waistband. She gripped and pulled and he raised his hips, allowing her to drag the fabric down over his hips. He kicked the pants off his ankles and pressed his naked arousal against her. “And now?” he asked. 

She was becoming more desperate now and he was expecting her to be coherent? She whimpered and tried to pull him down to her. 

“Ah ah ah,” he scolded, snaring her wrists with one of his own and pinning them over her head. She looked desperately up at him and he grinned at her mischievously. “What do you want?” 

She closed her eyes trying to get control over the sensation of overwhelming need and the substance-induced vertigo. She swallowed again nervously. “I don’t— I don’t know.”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Yes, you do. Tell me.” 

She moved beneath him, desire pooling hot and wet between her shivering thighs, and then took a deep breath. “I want you to put your mouth on me,” she whispered. 

“Where, darling?”

God, he was going to make her spell it out, the bastard. “On— on my cunt,” she choked. 

He released her hands and moved downwards, licking and kissing as he did until he reached her aching sex. She almost squealed as his tongue began to lap and tease at her throbbing clit, dancing in a controlled, maddening rhythm. 

“Astarion,” she pleaded. 

“Yes?” He asked against her.

“Use your fingers.”

He plunged two fingers into her again as he continued to work his tongue across her in small, circular movements. She was already falling apart, the sensations pounding through her very core, amplified by whatever substance raged through her veins. Outside, she could hear Shadowheart and Lae’zel moaning desperately as well. 

“Scream for me, love,” he rasped, as he moved his fingers harder against her and pulled her clit into his mouth, sucking hard. 

She did. She screamed his name, just as he had promised as her walls spasmed almost painfully and she thrust up against him. Her orgasm might have lasted several minutes or a few wonderful moments. She couldn’t tell. Her sense of time was scrambled all to hell as her release raged over her. She panted as the sensation of his mouth became overwhelming, and she turned her hips away from the torment. He grinned at her and leaned forward, kissing her soundly. She could taste herself on his tongue. “Good girl,” he told her again. He kissed her on the forehead, the cheek, and the neck. “See?” He said. “You do sing for me after all.”

She laughed a little deliriously and he pressed up against her again. “Think you can sing for me again, my love?” He asked her, his voice growing urgent and desperate.

“Just tell me what you want,” she replied, her voice breathy and teasing. 

He pressed his arousal against her slick opening. “I want to lose myself in you,” he rasped. “Please.”

She wrapped her legs around him in response and pulled him forward and into her. She gasped as his full length entered her, stretching her and pressing against the farthest reaches of her. She knotted her fingers in his silky hair. “I love you, Astarion,” she whimpered. 

He moaned against her and began to thrust hard and uncontrolled into her. He didn’t say it back. She doubted if he could but she didn’t mind. All she could feel was him. She and him were everywhere, their essences flowing through the very air around them and dancing together in a thousand different ways. 

“Embrae,” he panted. “Embrae.”

The desperation in his voice sent her over the edge again and she screamed his name once again as she spasmed around him. His hands gripped hard into the flesh of her thighs as he plunged over the edge with her, thrusting hard into he spilled his seed and found his release. 

They were silent for several minutes as they recovered at least some of their wits. Outside, they could still hear Halsin muttering to his duck while Gale lectured his invisible class on the importance of correct identification of plants and fungi in alchemy. She couldn’t hear Lae’zel and Shadowheart anymore. Either they’d moved their escapades elsewhere or had fallen asleep. Astarion pressed his face into her breast and laughed silently. 

Embrae laughed too, her body filled with him and radiating relaxation as she basked in the afterglow of their union. “Perhaps he should listen to his own lectures.” 

“Mhm,” he said contentedly against her. “But I think in this case, I might be glad of the wizard’s carelessness.”

“Me too,” she whispered. It was the first time she had felt him wholly there with her, present and accounted for— unafraid. 

Astarions eyes were closed now and he looked as peaceful as she’d ever seen him. She ran her finger over her lover's lips. They parted a bit and she could feel his cool breath tickle her fingertips.  I love you, she said to him again in her head. She didn’t care if he couldn’t say it back. The truth rushed through her with every beat of her heart now, refusing to be hidden away and unacknowledged. I love you, she thought again. It ran through her veins and perhaps by extension through his too, raw and unyielding. She pressed her forehead to his as tears sprang to her eyes. She would bleed herself dry for him, she realized, and follow him into the lion's den if he so asked. She wrapped her arms around him and melted into him as his arms encircled her as well. 

I love you.

[bardic-inspo]

2 4 17 and 28? Hier sind Bredeles.

Thank you! <3

[Fanfic Writer Ask Game]

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

Yes! Not super often. I revisit the same few Deacon x MacCready x Natasha oneshots a lot, but have made a few rounds through my whole post-Institute OT3 series for them. I've only re-read BtG a few times. Part of that, too, is, I read the chapters so many times already before posting them. It's different to read for editing, but, still.

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

Two major ones! Which is more than enough for me.

Midnight Chimes is my Astarion x Cursed!Tav long-ish fic I recently started (but really it feels more like it sprang out of me of its own accord). I had intended to maybe write them a oneshot series. Or to maybe write a shorter multi-chapter set only in Act III. Naomi and Astarion took the wheel and told me otherwise. It's been fun so far, having the broad strokes in mind, but really letting the characters drive the adventure. And I get to write in a more traditional fantasy setting, which I haven't done in ages, and feels super refreshing.

The other is my moby dick-sized and counting Fallout 4 longfic for SoSu x MacCready, Bring the Gasoline. She's sitting at 29/43 chapters posted, and I am still chipping away at her. It's been a while since I plugged this one, so here's the summary:

“Six months, huh? How much fast talking did you do to get here?”   “Enough to keep me alive.” “Really? Cause you don’t act like that’s your goal half the time. Hell, you throw yourself at everything like you’re jumping off a cliff.” Sole survivor Natasha Sokolova is burning through friends faster than she can make them. Robert Joseph MacCready needs all the caps he can get. Problem is, the smooth-talking woman with a pistol and a job offer turns out to be more trouble than he’s counting on. They’re a match made in hell, but their little partnership might be the only thing that can see them through it.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

Hmm, well, my partner has far more gun knowledge than I do, so I've consulted him a lot in the past regarding Fallout fic. One thing that springs to mind that he taught me is that a revolver will nearly never jam. The design of the gun itself makes it nearly impossible, because it's rotating each individual bullet into place one at a time, and you can easily/quickly remove the cylinder they're loaded into without digging deeper into the whole gun. I'm obviously very fuzzy on the technical specifics, but I understood enough to change the type of gun for a plot point where I needed it to jame (incidentally, I think I ended up scrapping that entirely and just going for 'the bullets ran out and they didn't have time to reload' instead).

28. Have you ever tagged a fic “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat”?

I haven't! And idk that I've really had any potential fic ideas that would earn the tag. Definitely some ideas that would earn a lot of specific tags, but I don't think the doves are dead enough for that label.

[raisinghellonstarbug]

Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

*

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

-

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

[teawaffles]

Louis and the Aquaria: Chapter 5 / End

Now, we return to the scene at the beginning of the story.

A little regretfully, Fred left for his work as the “Crime Consultant’s” point of contact, and Louis was alone in the hall once again.

However, the situation was completely different from before. He was no longer watching helplessly as the fish grew weaker — instead, he’d found a ray of hope for its recovery.

Standing before the aquarium, Louis was now gambling on both the medicine’s efficacy and the fish’s own willpower.

“Please, help him……”

Fervently, he prayed for the angelfish’s recovery.

And as the so-called king of the aquarium swam about its tank, the image of his brother surfaced in his mind.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Five days after that, the time had finally come for the tropical fish to be transported to Stapleton’s residence.

It was early in the morning, and the sky was perfectly clear. Several horse-drawn carts lay parked on the street outside their mansion. For ease of transport, the fish had been transferred to suitably-sized bottles; and as the members of the Moriarty household carried the bottles, tanks and other aquarium equipment onto the carts, Louis stood at the mansion entrance, quietly watching over the scene.

Although he’d nearly collapsed after those consecutive days of exertion, by the time the fish were set to be moved out, Louis had been able to recover his full strength. That haggard complexion of his was now restored to its healthy glow, and behind those spectacle lenses, his eyes shone with the sparkle of success.

At first, Louis had wanted to move the items onto the carts all by himself, saying that the entire enterprise down to the fishes’ transport was his responsibility. However, knowing he had contributed the most this time around, the rest of the Moriarty household insisted that he not work any longer. As a result, though dissatisfied, Louis had hence been relegated to a spectating role.

Occasionally, as they moved past him while carrying the fish in their bottles, the glint in Louis’s eyes would tremble ever so slightly. And when that happened, he would pretend to adjust his spectacles in order to hide the tremors in his heart.

“Feeling emotional, Louis?”

Seeing his younger brother readjust his perfectly-positioned spectacles for the fifth time, William walked up beside him.

Embarrassed, Louis gave a small cough, then straightened his back.

“I would never——”

He stopped. Then, looking at the carts, his voice grew soft.

“No, you’re right. I didn’t want to acknowledge it — but for once, I’m feeling rather sentimental.”

Hearing Louis reveal his true feelings, William gave him a fond look.

Before the two men, the bottles containing the pufferfish and guppies were being loaded onto the carts. Ever since the tiny fish had been given names, Louis’s tropical fish-keeping endeavour had taken a strange turn.

Recalling the reason that a spanner had been thrown in the works of this enterprise, Louis turned solemn, and dipped his head.

“Nii-san. I am truly sorry for what happened before. I went overboard, and ended up causing everyone unnecessary worry. I was immature, and I shall reflect gravely on that.”

Not only did he grow fanatical over the angelfish named after his brother, he even made the aquarium layout needlessly extravagant, and recreated a South American habitat through and through. To top it off, in caring for the sick fish, he had nearly destroyed his own health. Looking back on it all with a cool eye, he had really been quite reckless.

As Louis reflected on his actions in earnest, right then, Moran and Fred walked past bearing pots of tropical plants: the by-products of his over-enthusiasm. They would now become a surprise gift for Stapleton.

Without taking his gaze off the trees, Louis burned those symbols of his inadequacy firmly into his eyes.

Watching his brother ruminate on the subject so gravely, after a beat of silence, William spoke.

“You may be right. If the situation had persisted, and you’d collapsed, the care of the other fish may’ve been impacted. Although you took care not to let that happen, I do wish you had taken the worst-case scenario into account and talked with me more.”

“…………”

Louis knew that. But still, to have his faults pointed out by someone he respected — those words had pierced through his chest.

Naturally, the sense of achievement that’d grown within Louis now began to wilt; though his face once bore a proud expression, he now favoured looking down instead.

“But you know, that’s just one part of the story.”

“Eh?”

Out of the blue, William had added that in a gentle voice, and Louis was startled.

He couldn’t decipher the meaning behind that remark. Then, William narrated his own thoughts.

“Louis, you went overboard for a single fish, so much so you neglected your own body — I don’t think you should’ve done that, since there were in fact two other angelfish which could act as substitutes. But in a way, to go so far in order to ensure that not even a single life is wasted: that could be seen as an expression of your sincerity.”

Sincerity.

Louis knew he’d been driven by an impulse akin to selfishness. But strangely, he did not resist as that word seeped into his heart.

“Certainly, I had said that it’s possible to replace the fish if they die. But I think it’s wrong to take that at face value, and put one’s faith in how there’ll be replacements, or second chances.”

William moved on to talk about the attitude Louis had taken towards his work.

“Such naive thinking can undermine one’s focus on the task at hand. For example, if you were to think ‘There’s two more of them, anyway’, and approach the enterprise with that optimistic mindset, it wouldn’t be a surprise if all the fish ended up dying right away. In other words, Louis: from that point of view, I would say your earnestness towards that one fish was exceptionally appropriate.”

“……Nii-san.”

William’s tone had contained no more emotion than what his words conveyed, and in no way had he defended Louis’s actions. He was simply assessing them from an objective standpoint.

And that, was precisely why Louis was glad.

He’d thought his actions were nothing more than a mistake born from his own foolishness. But William had shown him that they could in fact be seen as the complete opposite. Taken another way, his persistence towards that one fish was proof of his ardour for his work — that, was what his older brother was telling him.

For now, William fell silent. And right then, the two brothers caught sight of Moran carrying an aquarium tank toward the carts. He hadn’t faltered at all since the start: with his physical strength, it seemed no load was too heavy for him to bear.

It looked like there were only a few things left to move; Fred, who’d also been hard at work loading the items, now put in a last burst of energy. Incidentally, Albert had already moved his share of the items onto the carts earlier, and left for his work at the universal trading company.

Taking his gaze off Moran, Louis now stared at the empty tanks lined up on the carts.

Then, the sight of the three angelfish swimming in close formation sprang to mind.

“…………”

In truth, before their departure from the mansion, he had wanted to return ‘William’ to the tank with the other two angelfish. He’d thought it would be nice to see them swimming harmoniously together once more.

But that wish had not been fulfilled. For Louis, who was in charge of this endeavour, it was truly a pity.

Then, following behind Moran, Fred stepped out the doorway of the mansion. In his arms was a bottle that held a certain fish.

Louis stood before the entrance. Fred studied his expression, and asked him a question.

“This’s the last one…… Is it really alright to load it up?”

“……Yes, please do.”

His reply bore a faint sense of loneliness. Hearing that, Fred nodded solemnly, and proceeded towards the carts.

For one last time, Louis looked at the bottle Fred was holding.

Swimming within it, was the angelfish that’d been ill up to a few days ago.

Earlier, as Fred spoke to him, Louis had noticed it swimming languidly yet powerfully through the water. The rays of the morning sun, just risen, gleamed off its silver scales — their lustre was simply beautiful.

In other words—— the angelfish had thoroughly regained its former elegance.

The day after he used the treatment William provided, the fish had gradually recovered, and fully regained its strength just the day before. However, as Louis was hesitant to stop the treatment immediately after it had recuperated, he had no choice but to abandon the thought of letting it rejoin its former tank mates. Instead, it spent its remaining days in the mansion confined to the small aquarium.

At the very least, he’d wanted to see the “three brothers” together once more.

However, as Fred loaded the bottle onto the cart, Louis quietly closed his eyes, and put that thought away.

——They are but three fish; they’re not the same as us, by any means.

That cold line was directed at himself.

After caring for them so wholeheartedly, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t grown fond of them in the slightest.

Moreover, if he had asked his brother seriously, it might have been possible to leave just the three angelfish behind in the mansion. In any case, there were many other varieties of tropical fish: they didn’t necessarily have to part with those three.

However, Louis did not do that.

As Fred had brought up, the one who’d asserted that the fish were nothing more than tools — was none other than himself.

He had no intention of retracting his words now. Furthermore, he was afraid that when the next mission came around, he might just let his emotions get the better of him, and end up causing irreversible damage.

When all was said and done, those stunning tropical fish were simply tools — a means to an end.

There were some things that could only be obtained by pushing aside sentimentality, disciplining oneself, and devoting one’s heart to their work, just as he had done.

And he was sure that his brother understood those feelings of his.

Even as he felt a pang of regret, Louis banished those thoughts, and met his brother’s gaze beside him.

William smiled back. “Well then, we’ve had a rather long chat, if I do say so myself,” he said. “But all that was just waffle. There’s only one thing I want to tell you, Louis.”

He knew what Louis truly wanted to hear right now. Then, he spoke in a warm and gentle voice — not as the leader of a criminal organisation that lurked in the darkness, but as an older brother.

“You didn’t let a single life go to waste: you did a great job, Louis.”

“……Yes!”

Louis replied with vigour. Then, dropping his guard, he nearly broke into a grin — and tried to suppress it in a panic. But he barely managed to stop himself from cracking a smile; emotion welled up from the depths of his heart, and his eyes misted over: it seemed that such sentiment could not be suppressed, even by a cool-headed man like himself. Through a mist of tears, he could vaguely make out the figure of his brother standing before him.

To become his brother’s strength. To fulfil his brother’s wishes. And, if possible, even if it was only for a little bit: to receive his brother’s praise.

Right after receiving that task from William, he had inadvertently obtained what he’d desired — and Louis was trembling with emotion.

William adjusted his tie. “Well then, it seems everything has been loaded up,” he murmured. “I think it’s time for me to get ready to leave as well.”

Then, he softly placed a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder.

“Leave the rest to me, Louis. I’ll make sure your work wasn’t in vain.”

“I know, nii-san.”

Without a shadow of a doubt, Louis was certain of it. ——That his brother, would never let his own efforts go to waste.

Hearing that, William smiled; then, his expression immediately reverted to that of the “Crime Consultant”, and he went back into the mansion.

After seeing his brother off, Louis glanced at the carts full of glass tanks, and murmured to himself.

“……It’ll be time to make breakfast soon.”

Once he’d ascertained that the transport preparations were complete, the memories of his arduous days spent with the fish then morphed into a record of observations. In his mind, his thoughts switched back to their usual subjects: those of managing the mansion and their estate.

However, deep in his heart, that gorgeous silver light remained as an unfading memory.

Louis had taken on the challenge of maintaining aquaria, and completed his mission since. Surrounding him was a refined atmosphere, and the air of a man who’d finally brought an enterprise to fruition.

T/N: omg I have so many thoughts about this one — much longer than the usual one-liner at the end of each story — so they’re in a separate section below if you’re interested :3

Translator’s thoughts (haha)

Louis’s growth

I think this story in particular is the previously-untold link in Louis’s character development! As seen in the Baskervilles arc and the start of this story, Louis initially had this worldview that he needed to be a cold-blooded machine to fulfil William’s wishes. To him, everything else was unnecessary if they did not serve his brother’s goals.

But in the course of caring for the angelfish, Louis was forced to confront the fact that he was actually fond of the angelfish — even though this contradicted his existing worldview, since emotion is unnecessary in rearing mere tools. And upon reflecting on how he handled the whole debacle, he finally realised that although the way in which he acted on that affection was not entirely right — showering the fish with too much love, which might’ve led to its falling ill, and sacrificing his own health and potentially the entire endeavour to save just one fish — the very presence of that affection was not a bad thing; and as William affirmed, he should continue to value every single life.

So I think this was the turning point from which Louis started to let go of that obsession toward his brother, and act on his own emotions and wishes: what he thinks is right, as opposed to merely what William wants. And this culminated in him seeking Sherlock’s help to save his brother, even as William himself did not want to be saved.

So in short, I really think this story is a key point in Louis’s character development, connecting the Louis of the Baskervilles arc with the Louis we see in the Final Problem arc — a missing link in the narrative, if you will!

Some random thoughts:

I’d think that sometime after the events of this story, Louis would properly apologise to Fred over what happened in the Baskerville mission

William told Louis he was right to not let even a single life go to waste — I think those words would’ve echoed in Louis’s mind when he sought Sherlock’s help together with Fred

Parallels to the Final Problem arc

Furthermore, some aspects of this story do parallel what happened in the Final Problem arc:

‘William’ being the one to fall ill

Louis trying very hard to save him

Louis praying for someone to help his brother

Help coming from a friend, rather than Louis himself

‘William’ remaining separate from the other two angelfish for a time

I wonder if it’s intentional, in the same vein as that past illustration by Hikaru-sensei where William covered his left eye with a rose… It could be possible: this book was published alongside the Phantom arc (Volume 7), so it’s conceivable that the Final Problem arc had already been planned out by that point.

Wow this has been a long one — thank you for reading this far! And onward to the next story ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ

[shihalyfie]

02′s influence on Adventure

You’re probably reading the title and going “...what? Isn’t 02 the sequel to Adventure? How would a series be influenced by its own future sequel?”

The thing is, assuming that Adventure was written in a vacuum and everything in 02 a retrofit runs very contrary to how both series were produced, and how this kind of anime is produced in general -- Adventure and 02 share almost identical staff members, and were separated only by a real-life single week in airing time. 02′s existence was not a sudden last-minute decision that was tacked on at the end! In fact, Adventure being extended to a second series was decided seven months into its production, right around the end of the Tokyo arc (sometime around the third cour). Despite it being a rather tonally different series, 02 is really just Adventure’s staff...writing more.

This means that by the time production had moved to Adventure’s final arc, the staff was very aware that they would be on for another year writing a sequel to this anime -- which thus likely became the fuel behind many of its creative decisions, made specifically to pave the way for 02.

The ending

Yeah, so, this ending. You know this really famous ending? The one that’s had such an impact on franchise history that a lot of later things have even tried to imitate it in some form? The one that everyone cites as one of Adventure’s most famous scenes (for good reason)? This ending only exists because of 02. You know what actually would have been Adventure’s ending if 02 hadn’t existed?

The 02 epilogue.

The ending that we now know as the “02 epilogue” was actually decided on before recording for Adventure had even started. (They weren’t even sure about finalizing the character personalities yet!) All of the most substantial details about that epilogue -- the series actually being the adult Takeru’s novel, everyone in the world having a Digimon partner, and, as it seems, even Yamato and Sora getting married -- were decided on before 02 was even in the picture.  Most likely, the only material difference would have been that the four characters introduced in 02 (Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken) and their partners wouldn’t have been involved, but everything else would have roughly been the same as the “epilogue” we know now. (This especially makes sense when you consider that one of Adventure’s major influences was the movie Stand By Me, which is extremely culturally influential in Japan as a “childhood summer adventure story”, and involves a similar timeskip epilogue with one character growing up to chronicle the story as a writer.) All of this was basically intended to tie into Adventure as a narrative of “a story of humanity’s evolution”, so this ending was envisioned as the “natural conclusion” of the story of Adventure as a whole. If anything from the original Adventure ending would have been retained in this hypothetical scenario of only Adventure existing, perhaps the sentiment of “parting” at the end -- but then it would still be followed by a timeskip epilogue 28 years later and everyone in the world having a partner.

But then it was decided that a second series would be made, and at some point they decided it would be a series set three years after the first, resulting in: this.

What this means is that Adventure’s ending was only ever intended as an ending for a single chapter in the overall Adventure series narrative. A lot of people like to pose 02′s existence or epilogue as something that “undid” Adventure’s ending, as if it was supposed to be some “ambiguous bittersweet” ending about whether they ever met their partners again, but...that ignores the real-life context of Adventure and 02′s production, where Our War Game! (which depicted an easy reunion with their partners, went out of its way to cameo Miyako in advance, and, for all intents and purposes, practically spoiled Adventure’s ending by depicting them as separated at all) screened before Adventure’s last episode aired, and there’s also the Adventure mini dramas that depicted more incidental meetings (and despite the constant fourth wall breaking and absurd crack content in them, yes, they’re intended to be taken as canon).

Again: in real life, the first episode of 02 aired one week after the last episode of Adventure. Even the real-life audience was likely well aware that this wasn’t going to be the end (and if they weren’t, they certainly would be when the promotional trailers for 02 started airing right after Adventure’s last -- and that’s assuming you missed all of the promotion appearing in real life beforehand, including at the end of Our War Game!’s screenings). The production staff all knew, because they’d already been working on 02 for months now -- they postponed their originally intended ending just to make this new one, after all!

So yeah, this line isn’t supposed to be just a vague “oh, maybe they’ll meet again” in an abstract poetic sense -- it’s completely literal, because it’s hinting at said gate opening again one real-life week later.

From both a story perspective and a real-life audience perspective, this ending was never meant to be seen as ambiguous.

Takeru and Hikari’s character arcs

02 often gets an accusation of being lacking in the character development department (one that I seriously disagree with and have been working very hard to counter), but this accusation especially gets levied often at Takeru and Hikari, who are often said to be “flat” or “kind of just there” in 02 (which, again, I object to; more on this below). This is often rationalized as a theory that the writers didn’t know what to do with them because they’d already been in Adventure, but...this, again, assumes too much that Adventure was written in a self-contained vacuum and anything in 02 was just an addition done after the fact.

There’s actually quite a bit of evidence that the last cour (or at least a significant amount of it) was written with the idea that Takeru and Hikari were going to be starring in the next series in mind.

This is especially pretty apparent when you get to the last episode, where Takeru and Hikari are conspicuously the ones to leave off on the most confident “we’ll meet again” notes, compared to the other six. Of course, they do it in their own respective ways (Takeru and Patamon resolve to make it happen, while Hikari cryptically acts like it’s already bound to happen, borderline prophetically), and maybe you could chalk it up to the fact that they’re the youngest and therefore most naive of this group...but, again, remember: 02′s first episode aired one week after this one, where we would immediately be treated to Takeru and Hikari following up on this. Given that, you can basically see this as a wink and a nod: “yeah, these two have a story that’s not over yet.”

And as much as I may sound like a heathen to the fanbase by claiming this, I would actually say that it’s the opposite of the above claim: Takeru and Hikari both have pretty unresolved arcs by the end of Adventure compared to the rest of the other kids, and in fact are fleshed out more in 02. It’s honestly kind of a stretch to say that they “already got development” in Adventure -- Takeru still has a ton of unresolved issues with his family and trauma and emotional behavior that aren’t properly addressed to nearly the same degree as how the older kids have their core issues brought to the forefront, while Hikari really was only around for less than half the series, and not only is her main problem of emotional suppression told purely from Taichi’s mouth and not her own, we also get no real follow-up on how she intends to work past that.

Those are some pretty huge things to leave unresolved at the end of a series that’s known for its focus on individual character development, and considering that the premise of 02 involving an older Takeru and Hikari was likely finalized around the middle of the last arc of Adventure, it’s easy to believe that they decided to deliberately hold off on resolving Takeru and Hikari’s issues in full so that their story could be told in the next series. And, indeed, while their characters being built on “being difficult to read” makes their development not quite as visible as some of the more eccentric personalities in the 02 cast, their respective Jogress partners (Iori and Miyako) more openly discuss and get to the bottom of their issues that had been lightly displayed or hinted in Adventure but never truly been addressed.

A lot of things that were not in Adventure

Adventure was admittedly kind of written as they went along (they didn’t even originally plan to have Hikari as the eighth child at first), so it’s hard to tell exactly what was planned and what was a later addition (and at what point things were added), but considering that the 02 epilogue was one of the first things planned in the entire series, as part of “a story of humanity’s evolution” and tying into a really long theory about partners doubling every year, it’s probably at least safe to say that a lot of the worldbuilding and lore was determined very early.

02 added a lot of lore dumps about Digital World mechanics and things related to the overall state of Chosen Children, which have been said by many to be retrofits to justify a buildup to the 02 epilogue, but, again -- the 02 epilogue was supposed to be for Adventure, so it’s very likely that these lore aspects were intended for Adventure as well! This is especially because it’s been outright confirmed that there were at least certain things originally intended for Adventure that ended up in 02, or at least were in 02 because they felt Adventure didn’t sufficiently cover it:

The kids’ home lives. As famous as the Tokyo arc of Adventure is, it only covered about a quarter of it -- the rest of it was the kids stranded in another world, separated from home! It’s specifically 02 that went into all of the things like school life, family life, daily life in Odaiba, and everything closer to the real world -- basically, everything related to family backgrounds that was very likely to have been in the planning documents for Adventure but never made it.

The (in)famous 02 episode 13 (or, at least, something like it) was intended for Adventure. As much as there’s common speculation that this episode was intended to be some giant subplot that got canned, from what we’ve heard from the staff, the truth actually seems to be a lot more mundane -- Adventure was a series very big on “oddities about the Digital World that have no real explanation” (see: phone booths), and when you reframe it in Adventure’s context, it’s likely that Dagomon and the Dark Ocean were intended to be yet another of those as part of its wider lore about the multiverse, to make you think “the heck was that?” but never get any real answer to. (And while it’s unclear whether the original theoretical Adventure version of this episode would have still involved Takeru and Hikari, if you want to put a tinfoil hat on and entertain that theory, it lends even further credence to the idea that their respective character arcs were deliberately held off for 02...)

Given that, and thinking about the 02 epilogue as the eventual goal for the series, you can also easily imagine a lot of 02-introduced things leading up to it as probably also having been baked into Adventure’s lore:

You know how 02 had a subplot about Chosen Children proliferating all over the world, as a lead-up to everyone in the world eventually having a partner? This was part of a “doubling every year” formula that’s been referred to a few times in background staff testimony. If you inspect this formula, this means that there were eight other Chosen Children besides Taichi and his friends, chosen between 1995 and 1999. Now, remember how Adventure episode 52 briefly touched on the bombshell of Chosen Children existing before Taichi and co., before never addressing it again? Considering all of the above facts, it’s very likely that’s intended to tie into that formula -- and, perhaps, had 02 had not existed to continue the subplot about “more Chosen Children”, Adventure would have taken more initiative about explaining the concept of Taichi and his friends not being the only humans with partners, and led it into their originally intended epilogue.

02 episode 33 involves Miyako visiting Kyoto and learning that there may be certain similarities between Digimon and Japanese youkai, to the point where they might be related somehow, despite predating digital technology. (The concept is revisited in Mimi’s track in Two-and-a-Half Year Break and the Adventure BD drama CD, both of them having been written after 02.) The thing is, the idea that Digimon and other similar entities actually existed prior to digital technology, and that said technology only allowed it to manifest physically in the real world, also is heavily tied to the original concept of Digimon partners being a manifestation of a part of the human’s soul, and therefore having a partner being a part of human evolution -- which is, again, heavily tied to the original intent behind the epilogue. So it’s very likely that this, at the very least, was one of the original lore points behind Adventure -- and if 02 had not existed, it’s possible that Adventure might have tried to cover it as part of a lead-up to that epilogue, rather than ultimately deferring it to 02.

This is, of course, speculation -- I’m not a member of staff, so I can’t speak for them -- but I do think it’s important to consider that while 02 was a tonally different series, it wasn’t just a sequel tacked on at the last minute, and rather just (mostly) the same staff learning three-quarters of the way through that they would have more time to continue this narrative, and reorganizing things to figure out what they wanted to do now and what they wanted to touch on if they had more time. Really, this whole narrative of “02 being a bunch of random additions they came up with and retrofit” seems to almost be the opposite of what actually happened -- while some of the ideas behind 02 were certainly created later, it’s less that Adventure was some ideal perfectly crafted story and 02 an addendum, and more that they had so many things they wanted to do in Adventure that couldn’t fit and used 02 to vent more of those out:

One of the concepts behind the prior series was for us to pack in as many interesting things that we’d seen, heard about, or read about as we could into it, so for 02, we thought, what else could we put in beyond even that?, and so we looked over what we needed to have, and put in all the things we could so that they wouldn’t be left out, and the story became a multi-layered one, overlapping and accelerating. It was to the point that, after we’d gone through 02‘s story, the scriptwriters told me that they’d worn everything they had out to the ground. In any case, we put everything we had into it back then.

Which means that understanding 02 is actually very retroactively important to understanding Adventure -- Adventure’s own writing was influenced by the knowledge that 02 would be part of its story, and 02 itself carries a lot of vital facts and story points from Adventure’s narrative that didn’t fit in the first 54 episodes, and, in real life, they were both written continuously as one story over the course of over two years. It’s also because of this that I seriously warn against seeing either series in a vacuum too much -- because both series are very deeply tied to each other, perhaps more so than a lot of people want to admit.

[ofmermaidstories]

Hello!! You are a lovely writer, and even more than that, you are a lovely person 🥺. I know this is tumblr but you carry yourself so softly and I think I’ve fallen in love—LOL.

Also, no pressure at all, but I’d die if you gave some insight into your writing process. Like, when you started Surrender, did you have an ending in mind already? Did you outline the whole plot beforehand, or did you just dig right in and let the plot unfold as you wrote? !!!How did you come up with so much plot?!!! I guess this is me scavenging for some advice on how the HECK one writes a nearly 100k fic, because I too want to try my hand at a longer piece, but—simply put—I am afraid, and I don’t know where to start.

— Once again, no pressure to respond. I am wishing you a gentle day 💗☘️

H-hello. 🥺💕🌷 are we friends?? let’s be friends 💖💌 or we can get married LOL, i’ve just been to a wedding, they’re fun. 😌✨ we could have lots of flowers and name the guest tables after our favourite fictional characters and play anime intro remixes on the dance floor!!!

anywayssss, wedding planning aside —

i don’t have my original surrender notes on hand (thanks to my laptop dying dksjfdksljfs) but basically, as an overview of my writing process in general it kinda looks like this:

i got the hook line/opening for surrender first. bakugou, crashing into a florist window and meeting the owner that way, bam, done. i knew i wanted them together at the end, and i spent the rest of the day just jotting down lil notes for ideas as they came. i didn’t start writing surrender until i had a basic skeleton of the plot!! so yes, i knew the ending before i started writing it!!!! i don’t start any of my WIPs until i have an ending in mind. things can change as you go — that’s natural, and the fun part of writing, but for me specifically i need an initial game plan to get me started. i need to know three things about a story, in order to push through the boring/hard/boring parts of writing to get to the reward of finishing it: who it’s about, the world they live in, and how they’ve changed when we leave them at the end.

my specific writing process is — think of hook, make notes around it, fiddle, and then when i’m confident enough about these notes/the story, to start properly outlining it. with the chaptered fics, like surrender, i outline chapter by chapter. my current outline for chapter 3 of something is like, 3.5k? for the widening sky, the outline took like a week and a half to do and was 10k long. sometimes these outlines will have rough chunks of writing that’ll make it into the final result, sometimes they have dialogue, but normally they’re just basic overviews of stuff i want to write about/where the chapter needs to go. like i said earlier, things can and do change as i write, and often for the better!!! sometimes you just get a different idea and have to work it in/work around it.

i guess the tricky thing though is your question about length — i’ve been asked this a couple of times, but honestly, i think the things that give my pieces length are…. subjective??? like, to who you as a writer. i really enjoy description/little details, and dwelling with those things — so i concentrate on them, and because i have zero chill it ends up adding massively to the final word count dsklfjsldkjlksdfjlksdf. i consider this both one of my strengths and one of my biggest weakness, in my writing. strength because it ends up working out a lot of the time, thankfully LOL, and weakness because at my worst those descriptions/lagging on the little details can quickly become ham-fisted. but the thing is: i have fun with it, i enjoy it, which is why i do it, nevermind if it works or fails sometimes. you take your writing and your writing style into consideration, and then you run with it.

this is so trite to say and i’m sorry in advance, but also i’m not because it’s true — but you genuinely have to enjoy how you write and what you write. word count is just incidental. it has to be fun to you first and foremost. it has to be something you want to read!!!!! i’ve ended up writing chonky chapters because i like it, me. i like it because when i’m reading something i will tear through whatever it is, quickly — so i’m just trying to make the kind of stuff that i as a reader would enjoy dsflkjsdlkfjhldf. writing is selfish and should be selfish. start your fic!!!!! even if you’re scared or worried. 🥺 🌷🌿 fandom can be stupid at times, but the one thing about it that you can always count on is that you will find people who want to read what adventures you’re thinking of, and how you write those characters that you both love. we all see and feel and think of things differently — and your version of the characters you connect with deserve to be out there, too.

idk, idk — i hope at least some of this was helpful????? cherry pick the advice and the ramblings you find, anywhere, until you have something that helps you. 🥺💕💌 ignore the stuff that doesn’t. and make the things that make you happy (and have you sitting there, at a wedding, drunkenly sobbing that all you want to do is write bakugou fanfiction for the rest of your life ldkfjlskdfjslkdjfksdjflsdkfj).

i hope your weekend was gentle, too, anon. 💖🌷🌿💌

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 3.2 - The Dog’s View and the Giraffe’s View

2. TROUBLESOME ROOKIE

Translation Notes

1. Koutairen is short for the All Japan High School Athletic Federation (Zenkoku Koutou Gakkou Taiiku Renmei)

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It was last July when Oda saw that setter. It was the semi-finals of the middle school prefectural tournament. He didn’t go on the first day when the first and second rounds were taking place, but his friend from his middle school volleyball team told him that there was an interesting team, which piqued his interest so he went on the second day.

The school was Monshiro Middle School, an inexperienced school that hadn’t even appeared in the tournament until that previous year. Honestly speaking, at first he even felt anger towards that informant, wondering what was so interesting about that team. Of the four remaining schools, their attack and defense were inferior, and it was a wonder that they had made it this far. Incidentally, Kuroba Yuni wasn’t at the semi-finals. If he had been, they would have left a lasting impression.

He was watching in a cold mood, but when the setter hit a jump serve, he suddenly leaned forward. Even the one element of left-handedness was a valuable quality for a volleyball player. But even if you took that away, his form was excellent. He didn’t seem muscular, but the way his body axis was used from the rotation of his shoulders to his swing was beautiful, and he was able to use his trunk to swing his arm, so the ball given intense power. Is he really in middle school!?

It wasn’t just the serve. There were many cases where the receive was not returned to a good position and the setter had to move to set the ball, but even when he broke his stance and ran beneath the ball at the very last second, in the next moment, he set the ball precisely to where the attacker was. His ball handling, step work, how he used his pivot leg—all of the skills for setting stood out. Generally speaking, he could only be described as the embodiment of sense.

Apparently, he hurt a finger on his left hand, his dominant hand, in the middle of the first set, but astonishingly after that, he started to use just his right hand to do jump sets. He didn’t seem desperate and his accuracy was no less accurate than a two-handed set.

“He’s…ambidextrous!?”

Unthinkingly slapping his knee and standing up, he then sat back down, feeling shamed from the surrounding gazes.

But no matter how super middle school level he was, he was still a middle schooler in terms of strength. He could perceive that fatigue was accumulating within him. It was a team where the other members weren’t as blessed, and as a result, Monshiro left the court with a huge straight loss.

Haijima Kimichika. That was a name he had never heard of within the prefecture.

Aoki had later pulled out the information that he was the regular setter as a second-year in a tournament in Tokyo the year before, and he had even been selected as an outstanding player. When he heard that, he was astonished and couldn’t quite understand it.

To think that a guy like that would come to a no-name public school like us—he had been casually looking at the class lists for the new students when he came across that name, and it was such an abrupt shock that he did a double-take. However, he didn’t think it was a common enough name where there would be someone else who shared it. While inconveniencing the new students, as he thrust his face at the bulletin board and stared at it hard enough for a hole to open up, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud. He had always wished he had a good setter on his team. In his last year, what he had been waiting for had come flying in——.

He’s not playing volleyball now…?

***

“The only thing I can think of is that there was an injury…”

“The first-years said it wasn’t an injury. And apparently the dislocation of his finger wasn’t serious either.”

“Was there any other reason?”

“There are plenty of reasons for quitting.”

Dissatisfied with Aoki’s philosophical way of speaking, Oda sullenly closed his mouth. The shoulders of Aoki, walking next to him, rose lightly.

The next day after practice, Oda and Aoki used the fifteen minute break between second and third periods to visit Haijima’s class. When the two stood at the door of Class 1-F, which was at the end of the row of first-year classes, the girl near the door jumped and let out a small cry. She probably saw Aoki.

“Is Haijima here?”

The first-year girl said “Y-yes!”, turned around, and ran up to a seat by the window.

A male student, hanging his behind shallowly off the seat of his chair and leaning far back on the back of his chair with his eyes closed—a haughty posture for a freshman on his fourth day of school—turned his head towards the girl in annoyance. The girl pointed over to them and said something, and he took off his silver-colored headphones and turned his head over to them with a suspicious look on his face.

“He seems hard to handle.”

Aoki, who didn’t go to the middle school prefecturals, voiced his thoughts.

Leaving his headphones on his desk, Haijima stood from his seat.

He’s so thin…it doesn’t feel like he’s still training, Oda observed, which was his usual habit. But, the overall balance of his body was good. Had he grown taller since he saw him at the prefecturals? He was a head taller than the average first-year boy in the classroom, but his head was small, and his thin-framed glasses fit easily. Normally you’d want him as an attacker, but with him as a setter, the entire team’s offensive ability will skyrocket… He was already thinking about teambuilding and laughed bitterly in his mind at his own hastiness.

“What is it?”

Haijima said, looking at Aoki’s face without hesitation. He had heard about it, but his intonation had no local accent. He didn’t want have any preconceived notions, but he couldn’t help but feel that he would be difficult to approach.

“Ah, the main is over here.”

Aoki said, indicating diagonally downward lightly, and for the first time, Haijima’s gaze was directed at Oda. As if to say, I didn’t notice you because the lower frame of my glasses created a blind spot. One would think that you would be a little thankful if your seniors took the trouble to visit you, but his attitude was quite flat. Not frank, but simply flat.

Puffing up his chest a little bit, Oda faced Haijima.

“I’m Oda, a third-year, and this is Aoki. We’re the captain and vice captain for boys’ volleyball. By the way, he’s a center, and I’m a outside hitter.”

“I can tell that when I look at him,” Haijima said, indicating Aoki with his eyes, returned his gaze to Oda and mouthed “outside hitter?” He couldn’t say that he had a good impression of him from a while ago, but…no, he wouldn’t assume who people were based on impressions.

“Are you inviting me to join?”

“Ah? Yeah, this would be settled a lot more quickly if you tell us. Why didn’t you hand in a provisional admission form? I heard you weren’t injured.”

“Inter-High group prelims, you lost 1-2 in the first round of the finals tournament. Autumn Tournament, you got through the first round with 2-0, but lost the second round 0-2. Spring Inter-High prelims, you lost 0-2 in the first round. No participation in the rookie tournament.”

He spoke like he was reading aloud the English translation he had just worked out beforehand. He was openmouthed for an instant, but then it hit him. They were the achievements of the Seiin High School boys’ volleyball team at regular games for the last year. He had all that in his head?

“I just saw what Koutairen published.” (1)

With an indifferent sigh, and no hesitation or guilt whatsoever, Haijima continued to say this.

“There’s no point for me to be on a team like that if I’m the only good player.”

He didn’t take in the meaning right away. It pierced beyond Oda’s scope of understanding. There were inevitably players who became arrogant because they had ability and strength, and he had seen several of them on and off the team. But, this sort of arrogance is different, the way it pierces through is too diagonally upwards, not straight up——

What’s with this guy?

With a nearly nonexistent bow of his head, Haijima tried to turn back. “Wait!” He reflexively took his arm. “We’re still not done talking yet, freshman.” His body moved before the anger welled up within him belatedly, and he used intimidation in his voice. Haijima only took his arm back in annoyance, not even flinching at all. The first-years in the classroom made a stir for an instant, then closed their mouths and froze.

“Shin. Leave him alone. Let’s go.”

He was about to raise his fist unthinkingly when Aoki stopped him.

“That guy really is hard to deal with.”

Oda gritted his teeth as Aoki’s long arms kept him away from the doorway. A feeling like sadness came over him after the anger, and he felt hot behind his eyes. Why do only those who are blessed talk like this…

Haijima narrowed his eyes quizzically.

“Why are you clinging to that position?”

He made that sharp parting remark, which he couldn’t believe he heard, and turned his back on them.

From next to Oda, who stiffened with no response, a leg suddenly stretched out. The sole of Aoki’s indoor shoes kicked Haijima’s bottom as he was about to sit down in his seat. …Huh? Oda, who was dumbfounded by Aoki’s unexpected action, watched as Haijima pitched forward spectacularly and crashed into the row of desks that lined the classroom.

Previous || Index || Next

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 20

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 10,096

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Turns out once you've smooched a guy on the nose, things like holding his hand and other such minor displays of affection no longer seem so daunting.

Sure, even as I reached for his hand now, some small amount of mental self-cheerleading was still required in order to work myself up to it. And okay, the tiny flutter in my chest when my fingers brushed against his almost had me pulling back faster than you could say 'emotion-phobia.' But I didn't. And hey, this was way more than I could have brought myself to do even just a few short days ago. This was kind of huge for me, so I think I'd earned the right to take a little pride in my headway so far. Who knew, I just might pull off my half of this whole pretend dating deal yet.

Lea glanced down at my touch. Then he grinned, pulling my hand up to press a soft kiss to the back of it before setting it back down on the dinner table, his thumb trailing light circles along my knuckles. Picking right back up where he'd left off in the conversation, he said, "Oh yeah, GUMMI ships got all sorts of badass tech going on now, the likes of which would put both Star Trek and Star Wars to shame. Super, ultra, mega-laser cannons, impenetrable force fields, swarms of nanobots that can repair any and all damage just like that," he snapped his fingers. Lea then planted an elbow on the table and leaned forward to add in a conspiratorial whisper, "They even have defense systems in the form of giant, exploding space duckies."

Saïx gave him a flat look from where he sat on the other side of the table from us. "Not true."

"Sure it is!" Lea chirped, straightening back up in his chair. "I mean, how else are they gonna fight all those aliens out there?"

Propping my cheek in my free palm, I cocked an eyebrow at him as I felt an upward tug at one corner of my lips. "Aliens? As in little green men?"

"No, no, that'd just be silly," he waved off with a scoff. "As in lil shadow men. Creepy bastards with big, yellow eyes and twitchy antennae." Still holding my hand, he brought both of his own up to either side of his head, miming said antennae with his index fingers.

Closing his eyes, Saïx gave a low sigh into his wine glass. "Also not true."

Lea shrugged, "Oh sure, they're not all like that. There was that blue one they found over in Hawaii, what was its code name again… Experiment 626? Yeah, the government got that one covered up real fast. And don't even get me started on the total dreadnought that is Schwarzgeist lurking out there somewhere in the night sky that absolutely obliterated the USS Endymion."

"The sheer amount of not true you are spouting off right now is positively staggering," Saïx deadpanned, eyelids drooping as he dabbed his napkin to his mouth. "You really need to stop staying up late every night reading all those conspiracy theories out there on the internet."

Lips curling into an evil smirk, Lea said, "But how else am I gonna royally piss you off so much?"

That earned him a small scowl from his brother.

This was basically it. The whole evening in a nutshell from the moment I'd stepped foot into Lea's apartment. Like me, it seemed that Saïx was not much of a talker, at least not amongst strangers. Unlike me however, it appeared to have less to do with social anxiety and more like he just plain wasn't a fan of the whole talking thing and so only did it when he deemed it absolutely necessary. Which I could totally respect. It was just that between the two of us, it had a tendency to leave a bit of a void in the conversation every now and then. Luckily, it was void that Lea was only too happy to fill.

Saïx had been the one to cook dinner. It seemed that that was part of the breakdown of chores in their living arrangement: he usually handled supper while breakfast was Lea's job. Saïx and I had already emptied our plates by now while Lea was still working on his, seeing as how he was otherwise preoccupied with talking a mile a minute. The meal had been a very nice chicken bruschetta pasta paired with a red wine from a fancy looking bottle. The latter I'd thought to be a bit of an odd choice, as I didn't picture Lea being much of a wine drinker. But there he was, sipping away at it, pinkie raised as he did so for an added bit of flair. I guess he just wasn't picky and would drink whatever was put in front of him. I, on the other hand, had decided not to partake. Would rather keep a clear head during this bit of subterfuge we were playing out in front of Saïx.

The point was, there was wine. And wine equaled a wine tipsy Lea. And a wine tipsy Lea, as I was discovering, equaled a chatty Lea. The boy was already chatty to begin with, but this was an all new level. This was chatty on steroids. Needless to say, he was having no trouble whatsoever keeping the conversation rolling.

"Why are we even discussing the GUMMI space program again?" Saïx asked in his bored monotone.

Lea drove his fork down into his pasta, twirling it around. "You know you're always a total slut for outer space, man. The moon and constellations and all that crap is your jam."

"Yes, but our guest," he gestured towards me, "might not find the topic nearly so interesting."

Trailing a finger along the rim of my still full wine glass, I said, "Actually, I've been fascinated by the research their lead mechanical scientist Cid Highwind has been doing in the field of warping technology. With his help, it might not be long before our ships can travel to other solar systems."

Both men just blinked silently at me for a moment.

What? So I liked to keep up on current events by reading a news article every now and again online. It really was not a big deal.

Saïx was the one to speak up first. "Yes. It's said Highwind is hoping to have a working prototype in less than five years."

Do my eyes deceive me? Was that the hint of a smile ghosting over Saïx's mouth?

Oh wow, I think I'd managed to score some points.

...not that it mattered, of course. Since this was only a fake relationship, after all, so getting in the brother's good graces didn't really mean all that much to me. Not one bit. Nope.

Nuzzling his nose to my ear, Lea beamed, "Hell yeah! My baby knows shit!"

"More than you do at least," Saïx sniffed blandly.

Expression relaxing into a sly grin now, he shot back, "I know enough to know about an astral sea monster whose sheer mass is gargantuan enough to blot out the very sun, the terror of the cosmos, eater of spacecrafts and destroyer of worlds, the dreaded galactic space whale," he paused for dramatic effect before splaying a hand out before him as he intoned in hushed reverence, "...Monstro."

Saïx grumbled under his breath and facepalmed.

"By my count, that's the eighth time he's done that tonight," Lea stage whispered to me. "Just five more and I'll have beat my all-time record."

I gave a low hum of amusement. "I suppose it's important to have goals in life."

He snorted, returning his attention to his food as he scooped a forkful into his mouth. I noticed that he'd incidentally stained one side of his lips in the process and I had a brief flashback to a familiar scene of Sora and Kairi. Of the pair of them sitting in the food court and Kairi kissing away a similarly located blotch on her boyfriend. Now that right there had been a seriously advanced dating technique and one I was in no way ready to try out myself. You kidding me? I was still very much a beginner here and the very idea of trying to pull off such a maneuver already had my ears turning pink. That said, a newbie like me still had some options, especially with my newfound ability to make the first move and actually touch my (fake) boyfriend without completely spazzing out.

I tucked in my lower lip, hesitating briefly as my pulse thudded a little more loudly against my eardrums. But then I slowly lifted my hand.

Lea visibly stiffened as he felt my thumb brush at the corner of his mouth, wiping the smudge away. As I began to retract my arm however, he dropped his fork to snatch my wrist and stop me. I arched an eyebrow at him. He smiled back with hooded eyes. Then he gently tugged my thumb up to his lips and licked the sauce off it.

Breath hitching, I yanked my hand free of his grasp. His smile just turned smug as he winked at me.

Apparently, Wine Tipsy Lea had even less boundaries than usual.

As I wiped my thumb with a napkin and ducked my head to hide my boiling cheeks, I heard Saïx mutter, "One has to wonder what a woman of your obvious intelligence and sophistication even sees in an asinine clown such as my brother."

"Well let me think about it," Lea's eyes danced as he folded his hands together, steepling his index fingers so the joined tips touched his mouth. "Perhaps it's my devilish charm and debonair good looks?"

"Oh come now," he said cooly with another sip of his wine, "if you're going to be making things up, you should attempt to make them at least halfway credible."

"He makes me laugh," I suddenly heard myself saying. As both pairs of eyes turned towards me, I immediately felt self-conscious. I mean seriously, what a stupid, cliché thing to say. But that didn't make it any less true, any less… meaningful. I wasn't someone who laughed a lot. In fact, before I'd run out on my wedding, I could probably count the number of times I'd laughed in the last year on one hand.

Fidgeting with my fingers, I pushed forward, "He's sweet… and thoughtful. And genuine. He's not afraid to be himself. And because of that, I find it easier to be… myself... around him." Another thing that did not come easy to me.

As Lea slipped an arm around my shoulders so he could pull me closer and plant a swift peck to my temple, Saïx gave a soft harrumph, "Well, I guess there's no accounting for taste."

"Psst, Saïx," Lea lowered his voice, bending forward over the table and cupping a hand to his mouth. "The moon landing was faked."

With a heavy sigh through his nose, he merely rose from his chair and started gathering the plates and silverware together. As he reached for mine, I protested, "No, that's okay, I can take care of it."

"You're the guest," he said simply as he swiped it up in one smooth motion.

"Best not argue, otherwise he might unleash his berserker wrath on you," Lea sniggered to me. However, when Saïx next took his plate away (still with food on it), he snapped, "Hey! I wasn't done with that!"

"Then you should have eaten faster," he responded dryly.

He stuck his tongue out at him. "Oh yeah? Well the earth is flat." As Saïx turned towards the kitchen, the plates stacked in his hand "accidentally" smacked into Lea's forehead, forcing a small grunt out of him.

I hid a grin behind my hand as Lea pressed his fingertips to the fresh sore spot with a soft tch. Then he downed the rest of his wine as he stood up himself, gathering the other glasses between his fingers on one hand while balling up napkins together in the other. He looked at me, face brightening, "Why don'tcha go on and take a seat in the living room. I'll join ya after I finish helping Saïx clean up."

"Alright," I nodded. He used a hand (the one stuffed full of napkins) to pull my seat out as I stood and gave him a tiny smile before moving past him. Reaching the blue sofa, I moved some of its mismatched pillows to clear a space and took a seat on the far end, tugging the hem of my dress down to cover my knees as I listened to the sound of running water and clinking dishware coming from the kitchen.

I didn't have to wait long before the boys were rejoining me. Lea came bounding over first, plopping himself unceremoniously down onto the couch with me.

Leaving one whole cushion space between us.

I furrowed my brow over at him. However, I did not have to wonder for long at his unexpected seating choice.

For next thing I knew, he'd flopped over onto his side and was using my lap as a makeshift pillow.

My eyes widened and I jolted, one hand going to my chest. His cheek nestled against my leg as one hand went to my knee, his thumb tracing lightly along its top curve over the fabric. "Mmm… you're comfy!" he sighed contentedly.

It was official. Wine Tipsy Lea had absolutely zero boundaries.

Halfway into taking a seat into a maroon armchair to our right, Saïx stopped. Then he straightened back up to his full height with a tired, drawn-out huff. "Perhaps some coffee would be in order."

I gradually relaxed, my eyes crinkling as I glanced down at Lea with a resigned smile. He was like a kitten cuddling into my lap. A really big kitten. I half expected him to start purring. "Perhaps that might be for the best," I murmured in agreement.

My eyes lifted long enough to follow Saïx as he made his way back over towards their kitchen, long blue hair swaying behind him as he went. When I looked back down, I realized with a tiny start that one of my hands had taken it upon itself to start lightly stroking Lea's hair.

Huh. How did that cheeky little devil get there?

I should stop.

But it was just so very... soft. Softer than I remembered. So soft that it felt like I was doing something wrong, something… forbidden by daring to touch it.

...okay, I really, really needed to stop.

...ten seconds. Just ten more measly, innocent seconds, then I'd stop.

There was a low, pleased hum in Lea's throat as my fingers continued to slowly run through his fiery locks. Then he rolled over onto his back, capturing my hand with his to press a gentle kiss into my palm. It tickled and my heart stuttered as I felt a familiar heat creeping up my neck. He... did know Saïx was no longer nearby to witness this little production he was putting on... right? Then again, maybe Lea was too far gone by now to realize his brother had left the room and so was still on boyfriend autopilot. Cradling my hand to his chest just over his heart, his other came up to start fiddling with the end of my braid from where it hung forward over my shoulder as he grinned up at me. "Wanna know?"

My head tipped to one side, "...know what?"

"You said what you see in me, so now it's my turn. Wanna know what I see in you?"

I blinked at him. Then my eyes briefly flicked over to Saïx just beyond the island counter where he was filling a coffee maker with water. Could he hear us all the way over there? Hopefully… this might be good for show. With a low snort, I planted my elbow on the armrest next to me, propping my cheek against my knuckles as I dropped my gaze back to Lea. "Sure, why not? Go for it."

This should be good.

His grin twitched wider. "You're kooky."

...well I certainly wasn't disappointed.

Though that wasn't quite the word I would have expected out of him. In fact, not the word I would have ever expected out of anyone when used to describe me.

One of my eyebrows quirked. "I'm… kooky?"

He nodded, "Mm-hm! Most people don't know it, but it's there. Way, way deep down in here," he tapped a finger to a spot just below my collarbone before going back to toying with my braid. "Ya try to keep it hidden. Don't like people seeing that side of you for some reason. But I've caught glimpses of it. I like it. Makes me feel like I'm in on a secret no one else is. And you're fun. Hella smart, too. And so goddamn pretty."

"That so?" I muttered, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

Wine Tipsy Lea was laying it on a bit thick.

Still… I was smiling despite myself.

"And that. Right there," he tapped a finger to my lips. "Your smile is gorgeous. Was the first thing about you that had me head over heels. I love being the one to put it there. Love being the one that can make you laugh."

Did I say a bit thick? Try instead a lot thick. Too thick. Like two metric tons too thick. Jeez, perhaps I'd be better off hoping Saïx couldn't actually hear all this. Even he might think it a bit too much to be believable.

Lea's eyes softened as he continued to stare up at me, his hand shifting over from my mouth to lightly graze his curled fingers against my cheek, leaving tiny tingles in their wake. "...I wish we were real."

Insert record screech.

E-E-Excuse me?!

My heart stopped. Like legit full on stopped. There were at least three full seconds there where if a medical examiner had checked my pulse, they would have probably declared me dead.

Lea froze, his whole body locking up. His eyes grew round and his face blanched, his expression now a perfect mirror of what I imagined my own must have looked like in that exact moment as he seemingly and immediately realized his mistake.

Now I definitely hoped Saïx couldn't overhear us! There seemed to be no reaction from over in the kitchen beyond the sound of water beginning to boil. Which was good. Maybe our cover wasn't blown and-

...and so not the point right now! The point was… was…

Ex-friggin'-scuse me?!

Wish we were real? What did that even mean? Real what? Did he mean that he wanted… that he wished he and I… that we were a… an actual, honest to god coupl-

No! No, I must have misheard. Yeah, that had to be it! He hadn't said… er… what I thought he'd said. No, what he'd probably actually said was, uh… was he wished we were… seals. Yeah, that's probably what it was! Seals were neat! And… and cute! I wouldn't blame him for wanting to be one, especially in his less than totally sober state! Or… or… he could have said that he… he fished… for Neil. Who was Neil, one might wonder? Got me! But you know what? Good for Lea, helping his ol' pal Neil out with fishing like that. Nice guy, that Lea. Such a giver, such a-

"TORS!" Lea suddenly shouted, practically making me jump out of my skin as he shot up off my lap and scooted all the way over to sit at the opposite end of the couch. He had a hand clasped over his nose and mouth, doing a poor job of hiding his reddened (wine flushed?) face. "Realtors! I wish we were realtors, is what I was trying to say!" he hastily clarified, shooting a weak chuckle my way.

I stared at him blankly.

Wha…? Realtors…?

Apparently, he wasn't done. "Yeah! You know, one of those power couples you hear about all the time! Partners in everything, from romance to real estate! That's some real lovey-dovey crap right there, don'tcha think? The epitome of passion! The sappiest dream to ever sap! The-"

"What inanity are you babbling on about now?" Saïx returned, causing me for the second time in as many minutes to nearly die of cardiac arrest. He was carrying two steaming mugs, one in each hand.

"Nothing! Not a damn thing! Nope! Total nonsense!" Lea said quickly, snatching up one of the cups and rapidly blowing on the coffee a couple times before knocking back the whole thing in one go. He pulled the cup away from his lips with a wince, probably suffering from a tongue that was now at least mildly burnt. Then he plastered on a grin, "You know how I get when I'm lost in the sauce, man. I start rambling off total bullshit that I don't even mean. Never. Mm-mm, nope, not one bit! Every word of it? Total garbage. Yup! Heh…"

I flinched back from the second warm mug that was suddenly being offered me. I'd barely had a chance to hold up my hand and shake my head before Lea was grabbing that one too, handling this one with smaller, more cautious sips.

...realtors.

Huh.

Okay, sure, why not?

Not like it was any crazier than any of the other explanations I'd come up with myself. Especially when you considered Lea was more than a little buzzed. People said nonsensical things all the time while under the influence. I'd know, I'd seen Anna in a state of three sheets to the wind on more than one occasion. You should have heard half the things she'd blathered on about at the time… adventures through magical winter wonderlands, talking snowmen, singing rock people, whole castles made of-

Shoot, Saïx was talking to me. Or rather, had been talking to me for a while and now seemed to be expecting some sort of reply. Still a little rattled, I scrounged together a flimsy but polite smile, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

One thin eyebrow arched ever so slightly at me as he cradled a fuming mug between his hands. Apparently he'd gone back at some point to get one for himself as well. "...I heard you were present during one of my sleepwalking episodes a couple weeks back. I hope I didn't give you too much of a fright."

"Oh! No! No, it's-" I got distracted as I felt Lea gingerly inching back over to sit beside me. Probably trying to salvage some semblance of the relationship pretense. However, his affections had become somewhat subdued, restricted now to only resting an arm along the sofa cushions behind my head and his knee brushing against mine as he continued to nurse the coffee. Regathering my train of thought, I tried again, "It's, uh… it's alright. Not your fault. Nor was I bothered by it at all. Just had to stay out of your way, is all."

"Still I-"

"Ya know what?" Lea suddenly piped up, plonking the now empty mug down onto the coffee table right next to the first one. "Sorry guys, but I think we gotta call it an early night! I'm beat! And I mean woof! Dog-tired!"

My eyebrows knit together as I glanced over at him. "...but you just chugged two full cups of coffee."

...what are you doing, you fool, shut up! He was probably trying to rescue us by putting a merciful end to what, as of the last five minutes, had officially become one royal disaster of an evening!

He bat a hand through the air, "That? Please, that was just to help sober my drunk ass up! Trust me, caffeine doesn't do jackshit to me when it comes to staying awake."

Saïx's mouth had settled into a flat line as his green gaze shifted back and forth between Lea and me. "Very well," he said finally, closing his eyes as he raised his cup to his lips, "I presume my noise canceling headphones will be a necessity while I work tonight."

I frowned. "Noise canceling…?"

Lea cleared his throat and gave a sheepish chuckle while scratching a spot behind his ear. "He, uh… thinks you're spending the night."

"Oh…" I said slowly before his words had a chance to fully sink in. Then they did. "Oh!" I repeated more loudly, eyes widening as I rocketed up to my feet, "You mean sex!"

...what the actual frick, mouth?!

"Which is a thing!" Apparently, I was only getting started. Panic mode was in full effect now. "A thing d-dating couples do! Which… which we are! Dating, that is. And a couple! Can't, uh… can't forget that part." Dear lord, where's a gag when you need one? "Which, I don't know w-why you would. Because clearly we're a couple. Yup! That's us!" Yeesh, at least when Lea had been yammering off nonsense, he'd had wine coursing through his veins. What was my excuse? "A couple! A couple who, ah…" Oh no. "...who have, er…" Don't you say it. Don't you dare say it. "...who have sex!"

I winced.

Just shoot me. Shoot me now.

"Oh yeah, lots and lots of it!" Oh great. There was more. "All the time! In all s-sorts of, um… places. My room. His room. Oh look," I pointed both my hands towards Lea's door, "there's his room now!" Make an excuse to leave. Any excuse. " I think we'll go in there now and make with all the sex!" Not that excuse! Pause, followed by tiny, nervous laughter from me. "Yup."

Then before I knew it, I'd bolted into said room, door crashing shut behind me. I pressed my back to it, clutching both hands to my mouth as I hyperventilated and trembled, eyes huge and unblinking as I stared off into space, registering absolutely zilch of what was in front of me now.

What.

Did.

I.

Just.

Do?!

You know what, cheeks? I won't even try and stop you this time. You go right on ahead and blush your nonexistent little hearts out. Fry my face to a friggin' crisp, for all I care. I won't judge. You have every right after… that. Whatever the heck that even was just now!

Oh gosh, had I really just gone on and on about, hrm… intimate relations? In front of Lea's brother? That... had to be... the most spectacular case of anxiety-induced word vomit to date from me yet! What was wrong with me? Who does that? No, seriously, I demand answers this instant, what in the everliving-

A soft knock at the door made me yelp and jump away, whipping around to face it, heart trying to jackhammer its way out of my chest. I was greeted by my own frazzled reflection staring back at me from the full-length mirror hanging there. My face could have been mistaken for a ripe, oversized tomato.

"...El?" Lea's muffled voice came through from the other side. "You might've, uh… kinda forgot something."

A crease formed between my eyebrows. Forgot something? No, I don't think so. I glanced down at myself, hands patting over my dress. Phone in pocket? Check. Shoes on feet? Check. No purse, I hadn't used one tonight. No coat, I'd thought it too warm out for it. My gaze settled on the door once more, eyes scrunching. "What did I forget?"

"...me?"

Oh.

Fudge.

After that, ah… stirring speech I'd just given out there a moment ago, it would certainly help drive the point home if I had him in here with me, wouldn't it?

After all, it took two to, ahem... tango.

As I reached a hand towards the doorknob, I realized I hadn't even locked it. Lea must have only been knocking to be considerate. A consideration I greatly appreciated, especially when you take into account that this was in fact his room that I'd taken sanctuary in. Taking a deep breath and expelling it slowly in one last ditch effort to calm my nerves, my still shaking fingers closed around the knob and twisted.

I cracked the door ajar about an inch, just barely enough for me to peek one eye through. Arms crossed and one shoulder propped against the doorframe, Lea tilted his head with a tiny smile, "Hey."

My gaze fell to my feet for a moment before flicking back up to meet his. "...hi."

"Can I come in?"

I hesitated for another heartbeat then nodded, pulling the door open further and taking a couple steps back. He turned his head to one side, calling out a quick, "Night, man!" to Saïx before walking in and closing the door.

Ah, awkward silence. Ye hath returned. Never could stay away from me for long, could you?

"So…" I hugged myself and decided to get into a staring contest with the floor. "...think he likes me?"

Lea snerked, folding one arm behind his back, hand hooking his opposite elbow as he leaned back against the mirror hanging from his door. "You kidding? He adores you. Practically ready to call ya sister-in-law."

I attempted a smile. It came across as more of a grimace. "Even after I was… all…"

"...smooth and cool as a cucumber?" he supplied, his voice chipper. "Absolutely! And you said you couldn't lie," he teased. "You handled that one like a total pro!"

...oh. Wow, he was right. Not about the "pro" part, obviously, but that I had lied. For the first time since this whole charade started, I'd told a straight out, bald-faced lie. It had been a monumental failure, to be sure, but hey… we all had to start somewhere. Guess I had to take my silver linings wherever I could.

"Gah, I should have just made up some sort of… of excuse or something." I started pacing slowly, eyes still downcast as I brought one hand up to chew on my thumbnail. "Said I couldn't stay because I had an opening shift tomorrow."

He shook his head, "Saïx knows you work at the mall with me, so he also knows I woulda happily driven ya over from here, even at the crack of dawn."

Frowning, I tried again, "Well then, I could have said that… ah! That you had an early test tomorrow so I shouldn't be keeping you up late!"

"Nah, he knows me too well," he smirked, waggling his eyebrows. "Knows I'd never let a lil thing like that stop me."

I blinked. Then I buried my face in my hands with a groan. "Oh god, I can never face him again. Not after that." Dragging my palms down to peek out between my fingers, I grumbled, "I'm guessing it's safe to assume he's retracted his 'woman of obvious intelligence and sophistication' comment." Ha. Showed what Saïx knew.

Shrugging one shoulder, he laughed, "I wouldn't worry 'bout it too much. Just another side of your kookiness that I mentioned earlier. 'Sides, he knows what a nervous, jumpy creature you are."

Up quirked one eyebrow. "...he does?"

"Well, he does now."

...fair point.

One that did not make me feel better.

"And look at the bright side," Lea continued. "It's good this happened here rather than in front of your folks! Now you'll be better prepared to handle it the next time it comes up."

My lips twisted sourly, "I guess so." As bad as this already was, it would have spelled utter disaster if that little freakout had occurred during the upcoming weekend with my parents. We're talking one epic catastrophe here, like meteor-taking-out-the-dinosaurs kind of catastrophe. Then again, I didn't particularly see this exact set of circumstances arising while I was around my family. Still… best to be on the safe side. I wrinkled my brow, "Better prepared… how?"

"Ah, well…" he pursed his lips to one side, tapping a finger against his other arm. "For starters… and I'm just spitballing here, but next time you could maybe just, ya know… not say the word sex repeatedly? If at all? I'm thinking this is 'less is more' kinda situation."

"...good call."

"Heh," he paused, rubbing his shoulder. "So... looks like we're bunkmates."

I lowered my gaze once more and brought my curled fingers up to my mouth, covering my deepening frown. "Yeah… looks like…"

I wish we were real.

Gah, why was I still even thinking about that?! Lea had already explained it, hadn't he? Realtors. The word he had actually said, had been in the middle of saying, was realtors. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just the ramblings of a guy who'd had a little too much to drink. Why was I still stuck on this?

My face must have been an open book. "Listen, I… meant what I said earlier," he spoke abruptly and my eyes darted up to lock on his. He averted his gaze and scratched his cheek, "You can't take anything I say too seriously when I've been drinking. Often my brain is just stringing random words together and spitting out the first arbitrary bullshit it can come up with. Like a toddler that's just learned to talk, regurgitating words it doesn't even understand just cuz it heard it from someone else at some point. Half the time, the things I say when I'm liquored up don't even make any sense." His eyes settled on me once more, this time accompanied by a weak smile. "So just don't be too… concerned about any gibberish that came blurting outta my stupid drunk mouth, 'kay? And you won't hear another peep of it tonight. Those two coffees are kicking in fast, so I'm much more clear headed now."

I tugged at my braid before folding my arms tightly together once more. "...okay."

And now onward to Act 1, Scene 2 of the award-winning and critically acclaimed musical: Awkward Silence.

"I have a lizard!"

My head rocked back at Lea's sudden declaration out of nowhere, both eyebrows shooting up my forehead. "...a lizard?"

He nodded eagerly, grinning big now. "Yeah! Wanna see? Come take a look!" He moved off to his left towards one corner of the room and for the first time I realized that there was a large glass terrarium situated on a long, low table in that spot. Lea squatted down next to it, waving me over to join him. I obliged and when I got close enough, he took hold of my hand and tugged me down into a crouch beside him. He squinted into the enclosure for a second, scanning all the rocks and plants inside before, "Ah-ha!" He pointed, tapping his finger against the glass, "There he is!"

And indeed, there he was, curled up inside a small, hollowed out log and blinking back at us. He was a tiny thing, all big eyes and blue skin except for the purple markings running down his back. "Oh wow," I slowly smiled, "you really do have a lizard. Why didn't you say anything last time I was here?"

"Cuz 'come into my bedroom so I can introduce you to my lizard' sounds a lil sketch, don'tcha think?" he chuckled, waggling his pointer finger up and down at his pet in greeting.

A soft snort. "Yeah, that might have earned you a dubious look." The critter crawled out into the open now, giving us a curious look. "Can I hold him?"

Lea flashed some dimple, "Course!" Straightening up, he moved the terrarium's lamps to one side before sliding out the lid and reaching inside, mumbling, "C'mere, Bruni." Picking the reptile up, he then offered him to me, "Now, the lil guy's usually shy at first but warms up quick and can be a bit of a flirt."

I stood as well, holding one hand out. Bruni cautiously put one stubby-toed foot on my fingers, eyeing me warily before fully walking the rest of the way into my palm. He was small enough to fit perfectly in it. Then he cocked his head up at me. I cocked mine back then hummed a low laugh, stroking a finger along the top of his head. That seemed to be all it took to win him over, for he then bellyflopped into a cuddle against my palm before rolling over onto his back.

"Bit of a flirt indeed," I murmured, rubbing his tummy with my fingertip. "What kind is he?"

"Salamander. Which, I know, technically not a lizard. But feels simpler most of the time just telling people that's what he is." He fell silent for a second, eyes crinkling as he watched us. Then he walked past me, saying, "Hey, welcome to my room by the way!"

I turned to face him and for the first time got a real good look at the place. If I had to pick one word to describe it, that word would be pandemonium.

Clothes were strewn about everywhere, covering floor and furniture alike - pretty much anywhere conceivable besides actually inside a dresser. Bookshelves stacked high with no rhyme or reason, textbooks next to movie DVDs (from action thriller to cornball classics) next to game CD cases next to vinyl records. Walls and ceiling plastered with posters, mostly of classic rock bands, but there was the occasional renegade: one here in which a dangerous looking man posed with an Assassin's Creed logo across the bottom, another one there depicting a grim reaper character dual-wielding sickles that looked to be from another video game of some sort. A queen-sized bed with black and red sheets buried beneath a mess of paper and more textbooks, along with a closed laptop and his shoulder bag tossed carelessly on top of it all.

And that was just barely scratching the chaotic surface. Needless to say, it was a lot to take in.

"Pardon the mess," he gave a rueful chuckle, scrambling to snatch clothes up off the carpet here and there to chuck into the laundry basket residing in his open closet, just under a black, full-length coat hanging from the rung in there. "Wasn't expecting any overnight visitors."

"It's, uh…" So many adjectives, so little time. As I searched for a word, I felt Bruni crawling up my sleeve. I kept an eye on him to make sure he didn't slip, but otherwise let him do his own thing. At last, I settled on, "...big."

"Yup! I got the masters! Comes complete with its own bathroom and everything," he jerked a thumb towards a second closed door on the other side of the room. By now, Bruni had found his way onto my shoulder and was snuggling into the crook of my neck. My fingers came up to pet along his spine. Narrowing his eyes on the salamander, Lea went on, "Surprisingly, Saïx prefers the smaller, cozier room. He's a minimalist, so not like he needs all that much space anyhow. Which works out for me, especially since I used to, er… heh, shall we say, host more sleepovers?"

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth, but whatever I'd been about to say was forever lost.

For that's when Bruni did it.

He took the plunge.

Straight down into the neckline of my dress.

I yelped, arms crossing over my bosom. Lea's eyes widened, "Motherfu-" He lunged forward, hands outstretched before him like he had every intention of going down in there after Bruni. Then Lea froze, seemed to think better of it and instead folded his arms together, shoving his hands into his armpits as he looked away. "You, uh…" he cleared his throat, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, "...you okay?"

"Yeah. Just tickles a bit," I wrinkled my nose, trying not to squirm as I felt the little guy climbing around against my chest. Thankfully, it wasn't long before he moved over to start making his way down my sleeve. I gave my arm a gentle shake to help speed his progress along and eventually he came tumbling out into my palm.

"Sorry 'bout that," Lea scooped him back out of my hand into his, using the other to ruffle his hair with a tiny, bashful smile. "I know I said he was a flirt, but he's never been this brazenly forward before."

Shaking my head with a snerk, I said, "It's fine, really. Don't worry about it."

Walking back over to the terrarium, he turned a scowl onto the salamander. "And what do you have to say for yourself, young man?" Bruni just answered with a lizard grin, flicking his tongue out to lick his own eyeball. "Smug lil shit," Lea grumbled, setting him back down inside his home.

One corner of my lips twitching up, I turned to take another look around his room. Despite Lea's hasty tidying up, his carpet was still a disaster zone of shirts and other garments. As I began to carefully navigate it, I asked, "So how are we doing this?"

"Doing…?" I could hear the frown in his voice.

I looked back at him. "Sleeping arrangements?"

"Oh! That's easy!" Having now set the lid and lamps back into their rightful places, Lea walked towards me with his grin resurfacing. "You get the bed, I'll take the floor."

My eyelids drooped. "You can't sleep on the floor, that's ridiculous. It's your room."

"Exactly!" he started clearing the papers up off his comforter, gathering them all together and tucking them away inside one of the textbooks. "It's my room, so I'll sleep wherever I want in it! And tonight, the floor's looking pretty damn good!"

I huffed. "Enough with the chivalry already. I'll sleep on the floor."

He picked up his laptop and made his way over to a large mound of clothes. Oh wait. There was a desk hiding under there, or so I realized as soon as he started shoving all the shirts and whatnot aside. Placing the laptop down on top of it, he then shrugged back at me, "Hey, if that'll make ya happy, more power to ya. Doesn't change the fact that I will not be taking my siesta in that bed tonight."

A low harrumph in my throat. "Fine."

"Fine," he agreed, now opposite the bed from me as he hung his bag from a wall hook there. Then he squinted one eye at me, "So it's settled then. We're both sleeping on the floor. Like the couple of rational, mature, grown-ass adults that we are. While the perfectly good bed goes to waste. Cuz that makes total sense."

I shot him a deadpan look. "Alright, fine then. Bruni gets the bed."

He slapped his forehead, dragging his hand down his face with an exasperated laugh. "C'mon, El, will you just take the bed please? I won't be able to fall asleep if I know you're just curled up on the floor."

"Sounds like not my problem," I crossed my arms with a smirk. Oh-ho, that's right. I could be stubborn when I wanted to be.

"Woman! Just take the freaking bed before I throw you in the damn thing!" both his hands gestured in mild annoyance at said bed.

Scoffing, I turned my head to one side. "Please, it's the twenty-first century, your neanderthal tactics won't work on me."

Green eyes flashing, he said in a low, even voice, "They will if I make good on 'em."

My gaze narrowed on him now. "You wouldn't dare."

He bent forward, fists planted on the mattress as he gave me a tiny glare across it. "Wanna bet?"

My legs turned traitor and defected, sitting me down on the bed so quick, you would have missed the motion if you'd blinked.

"There now," his face immediately lit up like the first rays of sunlight at dawn. "Was that so hard?"

I made a little hmph in my throat, tucking my legs beside me as I smoothed my dress over my knees with as much dignity as I could muster. "I'll have you know that I chose of my own free will to take the bed tonight and it had nothing to do with any thinly veiled threats that may or may not have been made on your part." I unzipped my ankle boots, letting them fall to the carpet below with a couple of heavy thuds. "I mean, I am the guest after all, it's only proper etiquette that I sleep in the bed. I'm just making sure you're adequately performing your role as the host."

A soft snerk came from his nose as he kicked off his own shoes and spread his arms wide to give me a mock bow, "Well, thank you, Miss Manners, I dunno what I'd ever do without you."

"You're welcome," I sniffed lightly. It was nice of him to let me have this. I then felt the bed quake beneath me as Lea flopped down beside me, stretching out comfortably and cushioning his head with his arms. I blinked down at him. "...I'm sorry, did that conversation just end differently than I thought it did?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Hm?"

"Thought you were taking the floor."

"I am, but that's not until lights out. Right now, we're just chilling!" he beamed. But then his expression relaxed and he propped himself up slightly on his elbows, cocking his head at me. "This is okay, right?"

"Er…" I glanced away, gnawing on my bottom lip.

Yeesh, I seriously needed to grow up. This wasn't a big deal. Like, at all. So what if we were sitting in the same bed? Nothing to freak out about. I mean, sure, I'd never shared a bed with a guy before, not even my ex. Come to think of it, I'd never even been in a boy's bedroom before. But hey, there was a first time for everything. This would be fine. I would be fine.

"...yeah, it's okay," I finally responded. He frowned, not looking convinced. I put on my best brave smile and managed a tiny laugh, "Really, it's fine." Or at least it would be once we stopped talking about it. Wanting to move the conversation along to something else, I searched my brain for a new topic. "So… you and Saïx…" I drew my knees up, hugging them to my chest, "...do you always mess with each other like that?"

"Oh yeah, all the time," he chuckled, settling back down into his pillow and folding one arm back behind his head. "Nothing says you care like making the other person's life a constant living hell!"

Settling my chin down onto my knees, I snorted. "Remind me never to let you care about me."

"Too late!" he chirped. My eyeroll belied the tiny cartwheel my stomach was doing. "'Sides, all siblings are like that. I'm sure you and Anna have terrorized the crap outta each other more times than you can even count."

"Well yeah," I turned my head to look over at him, resting my ear to my legs instead, "but that was way back when we were children. We grew out of it a long time ago."

Lea grinned cheekily, "Oh really? I seem to recall a certain someone chasing her sister 'round the living room trying to straight up murder her dead not hardly more than a week ago."

Wow, had that really only been just last week? It felt like eons ago by this point. A soft noise of contempt huffed out through my nose, "Don't exaggerate. I didn't try to murder her."

"How did it go again? ...ah, I believe your exact words to her were, and I quote, 'dip you in liquid nitrogen, snap every frozen limb off your body one by one, and then I'll kill you.' That about sum it up?"

I pursed my lips to the right, "...there were extenuating circumstances."

"Heh," he stared up at the ceiling, "if ya say so."

I lifted my head back up, my arms loosening somewhat around my legs as I considered my next words carefully. "About Saïx… can I ask what happened?" Lea glanced back at me quizzically and I clarified, "I mean with…" I tapped a finger to the bridge of my nose.

"Oh, his scar?" he rolled over onto his side towards me, bracing his head in one hand. "Old battle wound from our time in the foster system. Same shithead who let us two numbskull brats play with a chainsaw. Negligent and abusive. Real winning combo there, huh?"

"You mean a foster parent did that to him? On purpose? That's terrible," I breathed, looking horrified.

"S'okay," he gave a one-shouldered shrug, then smirked wickedly. "I retaliated by burning his house down."

My eyes widened, "Did you really?"

Lea sighed, "Unfortunately, no, but not for lack of trying. Only managed to set a bed ablaze and blacken a few curtains before the fire department showed up."

I stared at him blankly. "I am just... simply amazed that you survived long enough to make it to adulthood. Either of you."

He blew out an amused pft through his teeth. "Yeah, Saïx and I were definitely prime candidates for the Darwin Awards growing up. Told ya, we were lil hellions forged straight from the fiery pits of El Diablo. Hey, speaking of Ol' Bullseye over there..." he trailed off as he suddenly sat himself up.

"Bullseye?" I asked, arching an eyebrow his way while watching him fold his legs beneath himself so he could stand on his knees atop the mattress.

"Ya know. Mr. X-Marks-The-Spot," he tacked on by way of explanation, abruptly shoulder-slamming into the wall behind us just above his pillows and making me jolt.

...the heck?

"...you mean Saïx?" I furrowed my brow, wincing as he followed it up by crashing his elbow against the wall next. "Aren't those nicknames a bit… mean?" My question was punctuated with another loud thump.

Seriously, what on earth…?.

"Nah, he likes it." Whack! "Knows they're terms of endearment." Bang! "Only from me though. Anyone else ever even so much as thought about calling him anything like that, I'd make sure next time they turned up would be in a bodybag." Whump! "'Sides, you should hear half the shit he calls me, especially when he's royally ticked." Thwack! "This one time, he-"

"Wait. Hold it. Stop," I held up my hands, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the wall. "...what exactly is it that you are doing?"

"Huh?" he stilled, blinking at me a couple times. "Oh this?" his shoulder rammed into the surface once more. "This is the wall I share with Saïx's room."

...well okay then, sure, that totally and one hundred percent cleared up my utter confusion and lack of comprehension.

Not.

"Alright," I said, stretching the word out. "And so…?"

"So he's come to expect a certain level of enthusiasm on my part whenever I'm entertaining a lady friend," Lea winked and clicked his tongue before once again striking the wall.

"Oh?" I frowned down at my hands. Then it clicked with another louder, "Oh!" Followed by a slower, more quiet, "Oh…" Cheeks warming now, I looked back over at him, "You mean you… that is, against the wall, you've… oh." A pause while my eyes shifted about in my awkwardness. "But wouldn't the headboard get in the-" I stopped, glancing back over my shoulder and answering my own question. "Oh… oh, I see. No headboard. Got it. How very, er..." I cleared my throat and ducked my head to my knees, muffling into them, "...very practical."

I heard him snerk as the beating the wall was taking continued. "You're funny when you're flustered, ya know that?"

My face cranked up the heat dial even further and I scowled.

If you listened closely, the signs of a very steady, very distinct rhythm to the pounding could be heard beginning to take shape.

...I needed to stop listening so closely.

My eyebrows knit together as I then remembered something. "Wait… didn't Saïx say something about noise canceling headphones?"

"Well yeah, so he's not hearing any of this, but he can still see whenever any of the crap on his shelves or any framed pictures or anything else that might be up against his side o' the wall shakes from the impact," he shrugged, halting to puff out a noisy breath and wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. Apparently, he was working up a sweat. Then he grinned brightly, "This is actually kinda fun! Wanna have a go at it?"

I shot him a flat look. "...I think I'm good, thanks."

"You sure?" Another slam. "It's actually pretty satisfying. One might even say cathartic. Got any pent-up aggression you gotta work out?" And another, this one taking the form of a punch. He immediately regretted that one, eliciting a pained hiss as he shook out his now reddening fingers.

"Yeah, no," I rapidly shook my head, "no pent-up aggression here. Fresh out." Insert weak chuckle at my lame joke that was neither funny nor an actual joke.

"Suit yourself," he laughed, smacking the wall hard with an open palm this time. Then his back snapped straight and his face lit up, "Oh yeah! Before I forget…" he pivoted to his left, reaching into his messenger bag he'd hung up earlier and rooting around in it.

I snorted, "Done already?"

"Just giving that wall a breather," he said, not looking up from his searching. "We've found some other surface to bear the brunt of all our lovemaking for now, but we'll probably be back to this one later."

Oh gosh. Way to go, mouth, you just had to ask, didn't you? Just when my cheeks had begun settling down too.

"Ah! Found it!" he triumphantly pulled something out of the bag. Flopping back down to once more lay flat on the bed beside me, he held it out towards me, "Pour vous, ma petite amie jolie."

I squinted at the booklet in his hand. Or more precisely, a catalog. "Twilight University?" I read the bold lettering as I reached out to take it, staring at the image on the cover of a handful of young adults gathered around in a small circle of desks and looking photogenically excited about education.

"Yup! It's the course listings for next semester at my college. Lookie here," he opened the booklet up, leaving it propped in my hands as he started thumbing through it quickly. "Ah, there!" he stopped on a page, resting his head on my shoulder as he pointed to one of several listings that had been circled here. "They offer a few different introductory drama classes ya might be interested in."

I blinked down at the catalog as vague memories of a conversation I'd had with Lea last time I was here to help him study started coming back to me. "...you remembered?" I asked quietly.

"'Course!" I could feel his cheek pull into a smile against my shoulder. "It seemed important to you, so how could I forget?"

Honestly? I myself had forgotten. But to be fair, I had had a lot on my mind the past couple weeks, what with suddenly having a boyfriend now (pretend or otherwise), trying to figure out how to make a proper show of being a girlfriend, and stressing out over the all too soon to come visit with my parents. Frankly, my life had been turned upside down as of late and had become the very definition of insanity. There had just quite simply been no time to think about childhood fantasies of singing and performing in musicals.

But I guess… right here, right now in Lea's room, I had a bit of a reprieve. I mean, it's not like there was anything exactly pressing at this very moment, nothing that couldn't wait until tomorrow at least. I suppose I had a few seconds I could spare to entertain the thought. It couldn't hurt anything…

"...so where is Twilight University exactly?" I stretched my legs out to lay flat on the mattress, crossing my ankles and resting the open booklet down in my lap. "Is it close to my apartment?"

He hummed low in thought. "Probably a bit too far if you're on foot. But maybe we could carpool there. And hey," he lifted his head to glance over at me, "I still got a free elective course or two that I need to take. I could enroll in the class with ya!"

I felt a grin tugging at one corner of my lips as I looked back down at the catalog, absently trailing my fingers down one of the circled paragraphs. "I think I'd like that…"

"Yeah?" he asked softly and for a second I thought I might have sensed him leaning in a little closer. But it must have just been in my head, for now he was pulling away to flop over onto his back on his side of the bed once again, making a small cough into his fist. "I, uh… talked to my friends too. The ones who run the local community theater. You're in luck! They're between shows at the moment and are actually gonna be holding auditions soon for their next one. Sometime this week, I think. It's a musical too!"

"Really?" I returned my gaze to him, closing the booklet but using a finger to hold the page. A sigh then escaped me as I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, "I don't know… I doubt I'm ready for anything like that."

Lea shook his head with a chuckle, "Ready for what? Just to talk to 'em? It's not like you actually hafta audition or anything. Nah, you can just head down, meet them, get some deets… maybe find out the where and the when so you can go and just watch other people tryout, ya know? Just get a feel for it, if you want."

He made a good point. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. I could go and just ask some questions, that's all. Surely, there would be no harm in that. "Maybe…"

"Well if you do decide you wanna drop in for a lil chat with them, their day job is over at Halloween Town in the mall. They should both be on the clock there around noon tomorrow. Ask for Jack or Sally and just tell 'em I sent ya," he jabbed a thumb into his chest with a big grin, "got it memorized?"

"Jack or Sally… okay," I nodded, responding with a small smile of my own. "I might do that. Thanks, Lea."

"Always happy to be of service! Now," he hopped up off the bed and made his way over to one of his shelves that was pure anarchy incarnate, "whaddya think? You up for a movie?"

The corners of my eyes crinkled and I set the catalog aside on the nightstand. "I could be. What are the options?"

He rubbed his chin, scrutinizing the mess crammed into the rack before pulling out a couple DVD cases, one from the top shelf and the other from somewhere in the middle. He held them up in either hand for me, "I'm thinking either Sixteen Candles or The Labyrinth. Thoughts?"

I looked between the two choices. Then my eyes scanned about the room and I frowned. "I'm thinking it's going to be hard to watch either of them without a TV."

"Without a-?" he blinked a couple times, looking over to his right. Then he sighed, "Hang on a sec," as he tossed the movies down onto the foot of the bed and made his way over to another towering pile of clothes against the wall directly across the room from his bed. "Watch and be amazed as I make a flat screen appear outta thin air in three… two…" he whipped the garments aside with a flourish, revealing the television beneath, "Ta-da!"

"Ah," I gave a polite clap and settled more comfortably down into his pillows, "I stand corrected. Though who needs movies when we have your amazing wizardry to keep us entertained?"

He scratched the back of his head, "Heh, it'd be a short magic show. 'Fraid I just got the one trick up my sleeve."

"Too bad." I paused, eyeing the DVD cases. "Make it a double feature?"

He snapped his fingers and snatched them both back up.

"Girl after my own heart. Pure genius."

Author's Note: Ah, yet another classic cliché for the books: our couple encounters one room, one bed for the night xD Also, fun fact: I started out this chapter stumped for what they should be talking about over dinner. Then I asked my bestie, who simply said: "gummi ships." And I just laughed it off at first, all "naw, that wouldn't make sense for this AU." But then it churned in my mind for a few minutes and I was like "wait… no… I think I can make this work…" And thus the Global Union for Multigalactic Mobility Investigation aka GUMMI Space Program aka NASA rip-off was born xD And further thus, Lea being an alien conspiracy-nut JUST for the sake of pissing of his space-loving half-bro was born xP Anyhoo! For those of you who haven't seen Frozen 2 yet (for shame, it's SO good, I demand you go out and watch it THIS INSTANT), Bruni the salamander is from that! He's a fire spirit in the movie with legit fire powers, so I got excited to give the fire boi a fire lizard for a pet! Also, maybe you can start to see the inklings of actual plot starting to sneak back into this story xD Slowly, we'll get back on course, but not before at least one more hijinks-y misadventure takes place… hehehe…

What does the next chapter hold in store for out couple? What new challenges could their budding fake relationship face? Is Elsa really going to pursue any sort of acting class or community theater? Will Lea ever follow his realtor aspirations he seemed so passionate about? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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[wherewindysurgeswend]

Deep Heart’s Core: chapter one

here it is, folks, the long-awaited first chapter of deep heart’s core! enjoy!

taglist (please dm, send an ask or leave a comment if you’d like to be added or removed): @tunes-on-a-typewriter​

The ocean was a mirror when the S.S. Europa set sail, calm and shining in the midmorning sun. Anna Byrne, her cardigan tied around her waist and a dull lead pencil tucked behind her ear, a cheap notebook in one hand and her battered leather suitcase in the other, was watching the other passengers board. The wind was blowing, and she reached up to make sure her hat stayed on her head. The constant stream of people – newlyweds, families, young women with mink coats and massive diamond engagement rings, floating around in clouds of perfume – was disorienting, but Anna was determined not to lose her way. She wouldn’t let herself fail. 

Anna boarded the ship and checked her cabin number. She had done so dozens of times already, and she knew perfectly well what it was, but she couldn’t help checking again. As she was leaning over to pick up her suitcase a man bumped into her and knocked her over. He was young, certainly no older than 25, and blandly handsome, with dark hair, grey eyes and a strong jawline. He seemed like he might be a little drunk (“At ten o’clock in the morning?” Thought Anna), but only enough to make him talk loudly and forget to look where he was going. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said, extending a hand to help Anna back up. She didn’t feel particularly inclined to accept his help, but she didn’t want to be rude so she took his hand and pulled herself up to her full height — only five feet, three inches and much shorter than the man, but she squared her shoulders and looked up at him. “Say, what’s the matter with you?” She asked reproachfully, “Can’t you look where you’re going?” He said nothing, but he did look ashamed, so Anna softened. “I really am sorry,” he said. “Oh, it’s all right,” she replied. Picking up her suitcase, she noticed that the clasp had opened and some of her things had fallen out. “Well isn’t that just great,” she said to herself. She looked around for the young man but he had fled, so she picked up her belongings, brushed some dust off one of her sweaters, and slammed the suitcase shut. 

Anna walked quickly down the hall towards her cabin, acutely conscious of the sound of her footsteps. After wandering around the ship for a few minutes, looking for her cabin, she finally found it. She pushed the door open with her hip, still holding the suitcase tightly with both hands to stop it from falling open. Once inside, she dropped all she was carrying and let herself  fall backwards onto the bed. She let out a sigh. Her trip wasn’t off to a great start. 

 A bit further away, in the first class lounge, Margaret Kittredge was bored. The window was open, and the cold sea air made her pull her fur coat closer around her silk-clad shoulders. To her right, her father was reading the newspaper and smoking a cigar. Every few minutes he would give a sort of growl and stroke his mustache. To her left, her mother was gossiping with her friend Mrs. Schuyler and embroidering a cushion with a sentimental motto that Margaret couldn’t quite see. Embroidering cushions had always seemed a rather old-fashioned hobby to Margaret, who wished her mother would take up something that didn’t clutter up the house so much, but at least, she reasoned, Mrs. Kittredge didn’t knit sweaters. The lady in question was not exactly known for her deft fingers. In fact, most of her cushions were downright ugly, but at least one didn’t have to wear them.  Margaret turned towards her mother, hoping that her conversation with Mrs. Schuyler would be a source of amusement. Mrs. Schuyler was saying, “… but of course you know he isn’t George Habersham’s son! Not that I blame Amanda for running around, of course… I certainly wouldn’t want to be married to him… but it really is laughable that she thinks she’s being so subtle. I only wish I could figure out who little Georgie’s real father is. They say it might be Jim Pierce, but what would anyone want with Amanda Habersham if he was married to Lillian Pierce?” Mrs. Kittredge laughed, as did Mrs. Schuyler. Margaret didn’t. She rather liked Amanda, who was only a year older than she was and with whom she had gone to school, with her easy smile, vivid sense of humor and carefree personality, and considered Lillian Pierce, with her expensive wardrobe and perfectly set hair, to be an insufferable snob. Furthermore, Jim Pierce was a friendly, intelligent man, always ready with a joke, and Margaret didn’t doubt for a minute that he regretted marrying Lillian. Suddenly, Margaret heard Mrs. Schuyler say, “I hear your daughter is to be married, Doreen.” Mrs. Kittredge nodded. “Yes,” she said, “Peggy is engaged to Franklin Abbott. The wedding is in June.” Margaret turned away. She didn’t like to think about her upcoming wedding.

To be sure, she had nothing against her fiancé. He was, in fact, a very friendly, fairly intelligent young man who had let Margaret know as soon as they were engaged that after they were married he had no intention of telling her what to do: “as long as you’re happy, Margaret,” he had said, “I’m happy.” Nonetheless, though Margaret didn’t dislike him – in fact, when she thought about it, she really did like him – she didn’t feel strongly about him in any way, and part of her felt he didn’t feel strongly about her either. Margaret turned back towards her mother and Mrs. Schuyler, feeling confident that they had abandoned the far too respectable topic of her engagement. Mrs. Schuyler was saying, “… But we all know why he’s marrying her so soon, of course… I thought for sure Dinah Eggleston would get him, and of course his family would never have let him marry Jeannie if they weren’t so afraid of the scandal.” Margaret scoffed.

“If you mean that Larry Strong is only marrying Jeannie because she’s pregnant,” she said coolly, “ why don’t you just say it? And incidentally she isn’t.” Mrs. Schuyler looked confused.

“Isn’t what?” she asked.

“Pregnant. It’s a load of nonsense. Larry is marrying her because she’ a lovely person – which could hardly be said of Dinah Eggleston, mind you – and he’s doing it so soon because his father finally agreed to it and he doesn’t want him to change his mind before the wedding.” Mrs. Schuyler looked shocked. “And now,” said Margaret, “I’m going to get something to read before I die of boredom.” She got up and left the room, not without hearing Mrs. Schuyler ask her mother where Peggy had learned to disrespect her elders like that.

On the way to her cabin, Margaret nearly collided with her cousin Lawrence. Lawrence — Larry, to his friends — was something of a black sheep in the Kittredge family. He was handsome, well-read and likeable, but none of the older members of the family — the spinster aunts, the business-minded uncles, and above all Margaret’s formidable grandmother, whom Larry had been living with ever since his parents had died when he was fifteen — had ever really liked him. He was irresponsible, they said. Margaret liked Larry reasonably well, but she had to admit they were right. After all, it was only half past ten in the morning and Larry was already drunk. “Ah! Fair Margaret!” Exclaimed Larry when he noticed his cousin. 

“Good morning, Larry.” 

“Morning?” Larry asked incredulously, “say, what time is it?” Margaret raised an eyebrow. “It’s half past ten.” Larry’s eyes widened. “Impossible! I could have sworn it was midnight less than an hour ago.” 

“Tell me Larry, how many drinks have you had?” 

“Counting from when?”

“Last night.” Larry looked thoughtful and tried to count on his fingers, but gave up in disgust.

“Oh, I don’t know. Too many, I suppose. Promise you won’t tell aunt Doreen?” Margaret sighed. “I won’t tell mother, but you had better get back to your cabin before she finds you.” Larry assented and stumbled off towards his cabin. 

Margaret wasn’t sure why her parents had agreed to bring Larry along. In fact, she wasn’t sure why Larry wanted to come in the first place. She suspected grandmother Kittredge of orchestrating the whole thing so she could get Larry out of her hair. And no matter how much Doreen Kittredge disliked Larry, she knew better than to talk back to her mother-in-law.

Anna was worried. She was worried that something would happen to her mother and she wouldn’t know until it was too late because she would be in London. She was worried that she would get seasick. She was worried that she wouldn’t do a good enough job with her assignment and she would lose her job at the newspaper. Anna had always been afraid of the editor-in-chief, Mr. McGill, with his bushy eyebrows and tobacco-stained fingers. Mostly, though, she was just worried. That was just Anna’s way. It seemed to her that as long as she could remember there was always something worrying her. The woman sitting next to her, with her five, no, six children, on the other hand, seemed perfectly serene. Anna wondered why this was. Here was a woman with so much she could be worrying about and yet she seemed perfectly calm, and here was Anna, who, when she admitted it to herself, had very little to worry about, but who was continuously anxious. She looked out the window. There were clouds in the sky. Anna worried there would be a storm. The woman with the six children was tapping her on the shoulder. “My husband says supper’s in five minutes,” she said, “would you like us to show you where the dining room is? It’s a little tricky to find.” Anna snapped out of her reverie. The woman was looking slightly concerned. “Are you all right, dear?”

“Yes – yes, of course,” she said quickly, “I’m just fine. Er – what did you just say?”

“I asked if you’d like us to show you where the dining room is.”

“Oh. Yes, thank you.”

“You’re perfectly welcome. I’m Florence Lynch, by the way.”

“Joseph Lynch,” said Julia’s husband from behind her.

“Anna Byrne,” said Anna, “and what are the children’s names?” Julia pointed at her children in turn. “This is Kathleen, she’s eighteen . Here’s Joseph, he’s twelve, Mary, she’s nearly eleven, Paul, he’s eight, Ellen, she’s five, and James, he’s three.” Upon hearing his name, James edged closer to his mother and clutched her hand. “Well,” said Julia, “are you ready? We don’t want to be late.” Anna fell behind the family, grateful that they had approached her. She didn’t know where the dining hall was, and if the Lynches hadn’t offered to show her she knew she would have gotten lost. No, she thought, she didn’t know that. She thought it. It was merely a possibility. She had to stop doing that.

 Anna went to dinner with the Lynches and, to her, surprise, had a lovely time. The food was mediocre and the decor frankly depressing. The carpet in the diner hall was a sickly orange color, the walls a dingy greyish white. But her newfound friends were excellent company. Florence turned out to be an extremely well read and cultured woman who was always ready with an interesting fact or observation, and Joseph had the knack of making people laugh. As for the children, Anna soon discovered a kindred spirit in Kathleen, who was only three years younger than she was, and all of the Lynch offspring took after their parents. James, who had seemed so timid and afraid, immediately took a shine to Anna and seemed fascinated by her every move. 

 As they walked back to the Lynches’ cabin in the cool night air, with the waves lapping gently on the hull, the knot of anxiety in the pit of Anna’s stomach began to unravel. Florence began to sing softly to her children, a lullaby in her native Creole. James was half asleep, his cheek pressed against his mother’s shoulder. Joseph was joking with Kathleen and Joseph Jr., with  little Ellen holding tight to his hand. Paul and Mary were playing some sort of counting game. Anna fell back to hear the conversation between Joseph and the two older children. “Anna!” Said Kathleen, choking back laughter, “you gotta help me prove a point to these two dolts.” She gestured towards her father and brother. Anna smiled. She liked Kathleen’s wild sense of humor, her infectious laughter and easygoing personality. She wished she could be like that. “Well, what is it?” she asked. Kathleen started explaining the argument, her father and brother interrupting her to clarify their side of the question. But Anna was only half listening.

[vgperson]

What Did I Do In 2019?

[ghostmartyr]

SnK 120 Thoughts

A Fleeting Moment.

You blinked and missed it.

Is there some sort of deadline that I am unaware of? Because I think this is the second chapter in a row that reads so YOLO that it carries the desperation of a death soon at hand.

Yes, that’s right.

This chapter.

Is a Zekesona.

Maybe it’s because I’m a heartless monster, but my predominant thought throughout this chapter--well, fine, we’re getting to the real one later, but mostly my thought was wow, we’re really just diving straight in to the plot magic.

I’m not going to stop calling it plot magic.

Starting out it might have been a deliberate attempt to avoid the grammar of all things Paths, but at this point... it’s here to make the plot go. Sense is optional.

.

.

Zeke, you’re fucking killing me.

I.

Let me. just.

Let me attempt to form words with my fingers. Or my head. Or anything at all. This chapter has beaten me. I read it, I consumed the information, and so help me, I think if I let myself, I would never stop laughing over this.

It’s not funny, it’s just.

This, as we have here, is the pinnacle of everything wrong with letting the Yeager Bros take the wheel of a car that is not only missing seat belts and brakes, but perhaps also a functioning wheel.

In the world that is still sort of maybe occupied by sanity, there’s. Zeke.

Holding his brother’s decapitated head.

While he and his brother have an extended Inception dream sequence to manage the fact that Eren should really be very dead.

Really, I could probably spare a few minutes on that, but I don’t want to, because the logistics of how dead Eren is, exactly, when years have to pass in the plot magic in the seconds it’s been since his head was shot off--

I feel like someone shot my head off.

So okay.

A dream level up, the fight goes on in excruciating slowmo.

Meanwhile, Zeke and Eren are.

Okay, yeah, can’t do it. Nope.

This is not a criticism of the writing, as of right now. Like, I have my severe hysteria because of course Zeke has spent his Inception time growing to surpass the chains the First King adorned himself with, and of course, for some unholy reason, those chains bind Zeke at all despite him rightly pointing out he’s not of the Reiss branch and Zeke not actually being the Founding Titan.

Those are things I am noting, and I am completely failing to have a reaction to them because my entire jaw is in pain from holding back laughter, but that is not my present comment.

My present comment.

Is that these two are fucking morons.

I do not mean that disrespectfully. I mean it with the full sincerity of someone who is absolutely okay with the text making them fucking morons.

But holy damn fuck these kids do not have a clue what they’re doing.

Zeke first meets Ymir Fritz when he nearly dies in an unexpected near-incidental suicide. That’s when he has his first hands-on experience with Paths.

Sorry, plot magic.

So um.

Both Eren and Zeke plan to finally make use of the Founder’s power by showing up at this place. They don’t know that at the time they make their plan, because it’s still new to them, they just know that they’re going to hold hands and stuff and somehow things will happen.

Eren thinks the things Zeke wants to happen are bullshit.

Shocking.

Zeke thinks the things Eren wants to happen are bullshit, despite having no clue what those things even are.

Shocking.

And like.

Neither one is getting what they want, because Eren can’t actually use the power he’s journeyed all this way to get, because if this were a real anime, Zeke would have pink hair of warning. Zeke’s royal blood matters more than Eren having the Titan.

Sort of.

Zeke can dismantle the chains on the Founding Titan that attach to him for some reason, but Eren seems to still be required to pull the trigger. (ETA)

So if Inception-verse did not exist, Eren would have just gotten whatever it is he’s after, which would be bad for Zeke by measure of it not being what Zeke wants, but because Inception-verse does exist, they have all the time in the world, Zeke has the means to get what he wants, only technically he doesn’t really because he still needs Eren to agree with him and that hasn’t happened yet.

All of this work.

All...

Good fucking what.

ALL OF THOSE DEAD BODIES, BOYS, AND NEITHER ONE OF YOU HAS JACK SHIT TO SHOW FOR IT.

SOMEHOW

BEYOND ALL COMPREHENSION

BOTH OF YOU ARE FAILING TO GET WHAT YOU WANT. BECAUSE OF THE VERY SIMPLE FACT THAT YOU NEVER TRULY BOTHERED TO UNDERSTAND THE PERSON OR THE POWER YOU WERE ASKING TO MAKE YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE.

EREN MISUNDERSTANDS THE NATURE OF THE FOUNDER.

ZEKE MISUNDERSTANDS HIS BABY BROTHER.

BOY I’M SURE GLAD WE’VE SPENT THIRTY CHAPTERS ON THE CLUSTERFUCK OF YOUR MUTUAL DECISIONS JUST TO FIND OUT NEITHER ONE OF YOU HAS A FUCKING CLUE HOW TO MAKE ANY OF THIS WORK.

YOU BROKE THE WORLD, FULLY CONFIDENT IN YOUR DUCT TAPE, ONLY TO DISCOVER THAT THE ROLL YOU WERE HOLDING WAS SOME OTHER COLLECTION OF TAPE THAT SOMEONE GAVE A SILVER PAINT JOB.

THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T GIVE CHILDREN GUNS.

THEY SHOOT THINGS.

YOU INCOMPREHENSIBLY DUMB FUCKS.

Once more, this is not a criticism of the writing. I think it’s very fair for Zeke and Eren to be interacting with forces beyond their understanding, and screw it all up badly. In Eren’s case, that force is some weird demigod demon who possibly sold their soul to the devil. In Zeke’s case, it’s the will to live.

Both very confusing things. It is perfectly reasonable for them to be having difficulties.

-pre-corpses screaming in the background, only in slowmo because the moment of Eren’s head being blown off hasn’t actually passed-

-Falco steaming in the dirt-

-all Eren’s friends risking their lives so they might maybe use the Founding Titan to fix this all up-

You can tell Eren and Zeke have a doctor for a father, because their elaborate plan depending on thousands of years of history and starting international incidents fails in the face of basic common sense.

No, I’m not done.

These would be the people who would change the world.

Eren.

This is why, when you were ten, your mother was already telling another ten-year-old to look after you. BECAUSE SHE KNEW. SHE KNEW THIS IS WHAT YOU WOULD CHOOSE TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE.

LO, BEHOLD THE NEW UNDERSTANDING OF CARLA’S TEARS AS HER CHILDREN LEAVE HER TO HER DEATH.

IF ONLY EITHER OF YOU HAD A BRAIN.

I’m sorry, I know I should be making comments on other parts of the chapter, but this is all just so typical, and so blisteringly obvious an outcome, and.

Well, we got a lot of nice shots of Grisha and his family. Yay.

Plus--

Oh.

Fuck.

No no no no no, no, I don’t want that.

The thought occurred that this probably is one of the many functions of the plot magic’s oddness around people remembering things they shouldn’t, and blah blah blah Eren crying at the start of the series, but...

Grisha sees Zeke for a moment. Just a moment, but he taps into their link in the Paths.

If Mikasa goes back to watch the memory of Eren sleeping while he’s supposed to be collecting firewood, I have objections. I don’t know what they are, but there’s a visceral reaction of how dare you if that’s where this is all heading.

But you know, that’s for people who do things like speculation about things that aren’t related to people with the last name Reiss, so not my problem.

Anyway, the flashbacks are not a surprise. Grisha loves Eren. He makes his mistakes with Zeke, and comes to regret them terribly. He becomes a better man, and leaves his obsession behind to hold his new family.

This explains what happens the night he kills the Reiss family very well.

In that moment, he must have felt, so keenly, that this is all his fault. He walks away from the Founder. He leaves his mission. He leaves the power behind.

The walls fall, and in the hands of the Reisses, the Founder can do nothing to assist.

His wife dies.

The obsession returns, and Grisha’s last act is saddling Eren with all of his mistakes. Because he learned from his old ones, but he found that those lessons just destroyed the new life he comes to love. Grisha abandons his cause, and Carla dies. Eldians die. Marley creates more victims.

How many people suffer needlessly because Grisha hesitates?

That’s not a burden he takes to well, and the Grisha in these memories never wanted his last moments with Eren to be what they were. It’s one more piece to the insanity that took hold that night. One more tragedy.

When Kruger gives Grisha the Attack Titan, he tells Grisha to love someone inside the walls. The instruction becomes to make a family, but its root is in love. The important part is that Grisha loves someone. Otherwise, the cycle continues.

Grisha loves his sons. He abuses one and nearly ruins him, and takes the next and loves him properly. That’s the son who rejects the idea that they should all die. He’s been given a life that he understands has glory in even its beginning moments, and understands how horrendous it is that Zeke would remove generations of future moments.

The problem that continues, however, is one that I imagine we’ll be addressing with future flashback episodes.

Zeke loves his little brother. Until time allows otherwise, he takes it for granted that his precious little brother will see things his way. He needs so little convincing to bring Eren into the fold. Even before he knows how much control he truly has, he fully accepts Eren.

He doesn’t know Eren.

Eren knows Zeke, because the truth of Zeke’s heart is in this plan.

He knows Zeke, and doesn’t do anything with that knowledge.

Eren and Zeke use each other to reach this place, and in the end, their failure to be there for one another results in neither one being able to wield the power that their union creates.

There might be love there, but it’s the ruined kind Grisha bestows on Zeke. Control is what matters. Reaching the end is what matters.

“Your wife. You child. Even someone on the street. It does not matter. Love someone inside the walls. If you can’t, we’re doomed to repeat it all again. The same history. The same mistakes. Again and again.”

The mistake Eren and Zeke make is the opposite of the one their father chooses in this memory. He puts his love for his family over his mission.

Eren and Zeke prioritize their mission so deeply that they might as well be strangers, no matter how often they refer to each other as brothers. Of course it’s a disaster.

The audience has been waiting for Eren’s side of this story for years, because we’ve watched him grow up. We’ve watched him struggle and triumph and lose himself, and none of that was enough to establish the train of thought that led to these choices that Zeke is so proud of him for making, so it’s been a known thing to us that he’ll have some sort of eventual reveal (which we’re still waiting on; this chapter just does us the favor of confirming that we are waiting).

Zeke wants to confirm Eren’s mindset before they kick things off, since he has the luxury of time in this space.

He never bothers to confirm Eren’s thoughts out in the living world. Not actively. Eren lies, and Zeke lets it pass as enough.

These two never try to help each other. They use each other up.

Zeke can swear to be there for Eren, can swear to set him free, but he does not see who his brother is, and Eren, knowing exactly what kind of person Zeke is, chooses to ignore that in favor of playing the long con.

They fail.

They fail their family by failing to see them as such, and so fail every other task they sought to accomplish.

The story’s forcing them to deal with that now, since they have so much time, but it is so easy to see why this happens. They’re desperate, and they grab their lifelines, and they decide that if there’s something wrong, it can wait.

In the metaphor, that’s fine. They need to stop drowning.

But they see each other as a lifeline before they see each other as siblings.

Grisha sees Zeke as a tool before he sees him as a son.

The same mistakes, over and over.

Some more familiar than others.

We’ve reached the above thing.

What I’m referencing is that really, all through this chapter my only concrete thought was Eren looks a lot like Frieda. Naturally not greatly evident in the shot that’s actually relevant to why I’m bringing it up. Why should I get nice things.

Like. A lot. To the point where it starts to feel intentional, not the result of my brain linking everything back to the Reiss lands. Eren’s hair doesn’t part like Grisha’s or Carla’s, and conveniently we’ve got the comparisons readily available. He has Frieda’s. The young woman his father took the Founding Titan from.

After a long series of consensual (with heavy sarcastic quotes, yes, but putting that aside for the moment) sacrifices, Frieda and Eren are the first in recent history to have their consent overridden. Frieda’s ripped to pieces by Grisha, and has her family slaughtered by him. Hours later, understanding nothing of either Titan he’s inheriting, Eren takes up the mantle.

Eren first sees Frieda through her eyes, looking in a mirror, and I absolutely know I’m reading too much into this, but give me a sec of indulgence. I rarely get to talk about Frieda in these posts.

Frieda, the one who Eren really does look bizarrely like, is Zeke’s foil.

In the two shots above, we have an older half-sibling using their powers to convince their younger sibling to see the world they want them to.

Zeke’s having his difficulties, but Frieda has none.

Frieda has a loving relationship with her little sister, and touches her head to Historia’s gently.

Zeke bashes his head to Eren’s forcefully.

Frieda loves Historia. She has no reason but love to come and pay her visits. She helps her learn to read, she rides horses with her, and provides her company.

Historia has all those memories taken away. Their relationship only exists on Frieda’s terms until five years after Frieda’s death.

In an attempt to keep this post from turning into me shouting about how the Reiss family is symbolic of the manga as a whole, and Historia needs to come back and rightfully re-dethrone Eren as the main protagonist, I’ll be brief:

Frieda screws Historia up.

She adores her little sister, but in a world without Frieda, Historia is left with neglect and an overwhelming sense that no one wants her to be alive. Frieda routinely takes away the memories that prove that belief wrong. For complicated reasons that a teenager shouldn’t be expected to handle, but Historia’s problems are still actively exacerbated by Frieda forcing her will on Historia.

Eren has more say in what his brother’s trying to pull, thanks to his own plot magic, but we see the problem, with the same dynamic.

Zeke loves Eren.

He can’t see past his view of the world to see Eren well enough to try to do what’s best for Eren.

This is not a collaboration. It’s two people fiercely opposed who have put that argument off until the last possible second rather than approach one another as equals.

Eren’s head is blown off. He’s due to be dead.

Zeke is still trying to rescue him from his own free will.

Love without respect is useless. It’s what turns the emotion selfish.

Idiots.

I’m torn on what this chapter means for future chapters, because I don’t see how Eren and Zeke are moving past this roadblock without finally dealing with the issues that landed them here, aaaand theoretically that means that Eren’s plan wins.

I guess we get to look forward to what that means if that’s the case.

But Eren’s head is still kind of. Not. On his body.

Which makes me think that whatever decision makes it out of Inception, it’s probably going to be one that alters the reality they’re playing with, and that is really hard to do satisfyingly.

Those are problems for another month, though.

I have trouble calling this chapter good, because a lot of it is. well, what did you expect when you chose to do things like this? There’s some satisfaction in the fact that the characters are truly being respected as the numbskulls they’ve behaved as, but that does little to make the overall situation better.

Thankfully, emotional flashbacks pander to my needs directly, so this will be a satisfying trainwreck, but, uh.

Yeah.

Local siblings don’t listen to each other on family roadtrip down memory lane, feat. apocalypse in the background. That is the chapter.

It needs to be drawn as the Renaissance painting it clearly is in spirit.

[ncfan-1]

So, a little while ago I did a “try out less trodden class paths” run of Three Houses. It was a Blue Lions run, since I both wanted to revisit that path for fic writing purposes, and because it was the base house that had the largest number of students I wanted to try out different classes on.

The results, as you can imagine, were mixed.

Caspar made for such a good Swordmaster that I took him to the endgame with me, and while I was surprised by this at first, when I thought about it a little more, it didn’t surprise me nearly as much. Caspar may not have a proficiency in swords, but his growths lend themselves well to sword-wielding classes, especially once you reclass him to a sword-wielding class and you get those modifiers to his growth rates. I had made him a Hero in my Silver Snow run purely because I wanted to get his sword rank high enough to wield the rapier so he could take down the Death Knight in his and Mercedes’s paralogue, and he was good with swords in that one, too. Asides from him, Felix and Mercedes were both excellent Bow Knights, filling different niches--Felix with his high strength and speed hit like a truck, and Mercedes with a magic bow absolutely decimated low res units, and even middling res units as well.

On the other end of the spectrum, while neither Ferdinand, Sylvain, nor Leonie were bad at being Holy Knights, per se, and Ferdinand is one of only two units who I think actually looks good in the Holy Knight armor (suits his personality and aesthetic pretty well, I think), I will likely not class them into Holy Knights again. Ferdinand is fine as a Paladin--plenty of the advanced classes are fine as endgame classes, and Paladin is definitely one of them--or a Wyvern Lord, Leonie is so much better as a Bow Knight, and maybe one day I’ll find a class Sylvain actually excels at, because he’s been kinda meh as a Dark Knight for me (Not as meh as poor Lorenz, though). And nowadays, I’ve had Dorothea as a Gremory, a Mortal Savant, and in this playthrough a Swordmaster, and I don’t think I’m ever going to make her into anything but a Gremory, ever again.

But by far, the two stars of this run were Falcon Knight Marianne and Gremory Ingrid.

Classing Marianne away from a magic-wielding class is, I think, probably not the most unconventional thing I could have done, especially since I sent her down the Pegasus line. I think that with every student unit in this game, there are a couple--sometimes up to three or four--different paths that are optimal to send them down, in different ways. For Marianne, you could make her a Swordmaster or a Paladin, and those classes would suit her pretty well thanks to her magic-based Combat Arts. You could level up her Reason Magic and make her a Gremory.

The master class I think the game pushes you hardest towards with Marianne is Holy Knight. On a purely visuals-based level, she is the only unit in the game besides Ferdinand whom I think the armor in that class looks good on, thanks to her color palette making the armor white with gold accents, and the cape a dark blue, which to be honest is exactly what I think of when I think holy knight. More seriously, given her proficiencies in Faith, Swords, Riding, Flying, and that her budding talent is in Lances, the game is pushing you towards mixed attacker with Marianne, and speaking as someone who made her a Holy Knight in every run she played but this one, Marianne excels as a mixed attacker.

She really feels like the only unit in the whole game that the Holy Knight class was really made for. As I said above, Ferdinand, Sylvain, and Leonie weren’t great at it, and designated healer units that I’ve classed into Holy Knight in the past (aka Linhardt and Mercedes) excelled much more as a Bishop or as a Gremory. Marianne, on the other hand, kicks so much ass as a Holy Knight that it isn’t even funny. Out of all the designated healers, I would say that her spell list is the most attack-oriented, because even Manuela only has two attack Faith spells, while Marianne has three. Marianne is one of only three characters in the base game to get two magic-based Combat Arts (the others being Ingrid and Edelgard), which means that even with less spell charges, she’s not in trouble because she has Soulblade and Frozen Lance to fall back on. Her Crest increases damage output on physical attacks. Also, her bloodline’s Relic, Blutgang, is a magic sword that deals magic-based damage; if that isn’t the devs telling us it’s alright to make Marianne a physical class or a mixed attacker if we want to, I don’t know what is. And five Physic uses isn’t that big of a loss, especially since if you’re doing any recruiting at all Marianne is probably not your only Physic user--hell, if you’re playing as female Byleth, you can get a Physic user for free (And just because I don’t think Sylvain is that great of a Dark Knight doesn’t mean I don’t think the game isn’t pushing him towards that).

With all that said, it’s not hard to see how Falcon Knight is the other master class I think the game is pushing Marianne towards. She has all the proficiencies required to get there with plenty of chapters to spare, and even with her low strength growths, high magic plus Soulblade and Frozen Lance means she’s not without recourse for dealing loads of damage. And in my experience, Marianne’s performance as a Falcon Knight was similar to her performance as a Holy Knight, minus being able to wield magic and plus gaining a ton of speed. She was good. She excelled at this.

Ingrid, on the other hand, I wasn’t as confident about going in. Ingrid, I feel, is being pushed by the game first to become a Falcon Knight, and if not a Falcon Knight, then a Paladin. Her growths favor these classes, and her base speed growths are so high that the massive speed penalty that comes with the Paladin class isn’t likely to affect her too much. Incidentally, Ingrid’s proficiencies are almost identical to Marianne’s; the only difference is that she’s neutral in Faith, rather than proficient. She is very much being pushed towards physical classes, rather than magical classes or mixed attacker classes.

But when you look at it, Ingrid has the potential to become a great mixed attacker. Her base growths in strength and magic are the same. Like Marianne, she learns two magic-based Combat Arts, Hexblade and Frozen Lance, though she gets them much later on. Marianne gets Soulblade at C+ in Swords, and Frozen Lance is your reward for unlocking her budding talent; Ingrid, on the other hand, doesn’t get her magic-based Arts until she’s at A in Swords and Lances, almost as if she’s not intended to be dealing magic-based damage until she’s reached an advanced class (More on that later). Her Reason list is almost identical to Marianne’s--both learn Blizzard, Thoron, and Fimbulvetr, which are all spells with high Critical Hit chances, and Marianne only learns one spell in excess of Ingrid’s list, Cutting Gale. From Faith, Ingrid learns Physic, which is a good utility spell, and Seraphim, the monster-killing spell, which makes me think that Falcon Knights were originally meant to be geared towards killing monsters like they were in Echoes, since Ingrid is the only unit in the game being pushed hard towards this class, and she just happens to learn a spell that’s super-effective against monsters.

So Ingrid does have potential as a magic-wielding unit. Sure, she’s hands down the best unit in the game to make into a Falcon Knight (tried it out on Hilda this time, and let me just say: Falcon Knight!Hilda is Wyvern Lord!Hilda Lite; it’s okay, but it feels like a watered down version of Wyvern Lord!Hilda), but she’s got potential as a mage, too. But I was still a little nervous, because while her base magic growth is the same as her base strength growth, both are on the low side, and just judging from what I’ve heard, it’s rare to get an Ingrid who’s been strength-blessed by the RNG gods. Even with class boosts to her growths, there was still a very real chance she’d get screwed on her magic stats.

As you can see above, she did not get magic-screwed. At all.

Yes, this is after I fed her some magic stat boosters, but do you want to know what it was before I did that? 43. She got to 43 magic all by her lonesome, without any help from any Spirit Dusts or any Premium Magic Herbs, and she was fantastic. She was critting left and right, no one could hit her, she could still double Assassins despite no longer being in a class that boosted her speed growths, and she was overall my biggest, most unexpected success story from this run.

Now, let’s talk DLC.

As most of you probably know, the next wave of DLC coming out--can’t remember if it’s in the free wave or the paid wave--includes several new classes. Do you want to guess what one of them is? If the rumors are true, one of the new classes we’re getting is Dark Flier.

Previously, I mentioned that I really wanted to make Flayn a Dark Flier if I ever got the opportunity. Her proficiency in Faith, budding talent in Reason, and the fact that she comes with high enough skill bases in Lances and Flying to be immediately reclassed to Pegasus Knight makes me think that the pegasus line was the route we were being pushed towards with her, if we decided Bishop or Gremory wasn’t for us (And speaking as someone who’s made Flayn a Falcon Knight three runs running, she’s amazing as a pegasus unit). The fact that she’s such a potent magic user made me wish we’d get Dark Flier as a class, back when we still didn’t know what the future held in terms of DLC.

Well, nowadays, I still want to make Flayn a Dark Flier. Wanting to make her a Dark Flier is probably the biggest reason my first run after the DLC drops isn’t going to be a Crimson Flower run. But seeing how well Marianne does as a flying unit, how well Ingrid does as a magic unit, and just how much potential both have as mixed attackers, I really want to try them both out as Dark Fliers, too.

I just hope the DLC classes don’t require super-rare seals like Dark Mage and Dark Bishop. That would suck.

[ayma-nidiot]

In the White Light - Prideshipping Chapter 15

Also on AO3.

Author’s note: From here on out, there will be small bits of Shrimpshipping, especially since I believe Rex and Weevil deserved so much better in the anime. So I apologize to those of you who don’t ship it. I promise that the overall fanfic and remaining chapters will primarily be Prideshipping still, and the Shrimpshipping will be relatively minimal.

Chapter 15 – For Sure This Time

When Yami Yugi and Kaiba nearly made it to ground level, the pharaoh noticed a giant portal open up on Atlantis, which Joey had no problem passing through. Before Yugi could do the same, Yami shouted, “Yugi, wait! Don’t go yet!”

“Pharaoh!” Yugi noticed a weak Kaiba before he saw the pharaoh. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Dammit, pharaoh, you made me hold on for nothing,” Kaiba groaned, weakened by the battle and the thin air, as he changed back into a human. He would have landed on top of Yugi, too, had Yami Yugi not caught him.

“What happened up there?” Yugi asked.

Not bothering to get up from his prone position, Kaiba replied, “I think I fought too hard… again. It took all I had in me to fight Leviathan’s seal on my powers.”

“I see… But then why do we need to stay, pharaoh?”

Yami Yugi pointed to a man hobbling towards them. “That’s why.”

“Sorry, did you think I was dead?” Dartz laughed while he held onto his injured right arm, and Leviathan once again appeared.

Yami Yugi gave Kaiba a pained look. “Kaiba, get out of here! This battle is for me and Yugi to fight.”

“Ngh…” Kaiba could only crawl an inch before his back radiated in pain. “I… can’t… And even if I could, I’m not leaving you, not during your most important battle yet.”

“Luckily for you, pharaoh, I no longer have any interest in your boyfriend,” Dartz spoke while Leviathan reared his spiky head. “Your soul is so dark, so full of hatred and evil, that it is the only one I need!”

“That’s not true!” Yugi interjected.

“Oh? You have something to say, you insignificant runt?”

“He’s beaten the darkness in his second duel against Rafael!”

“Hmm, you just gave me an idea…” Dartz cackled again, motioning for Leviathan to attack Yami Yugi.

“Aaaaargh!” Yami Yugi could feel the remnants of Leviathan attempt to tear at his soul. Too tired to stand anymore, he fell to his knees.

“If he’s really beaten the darkness as you say, then he’ll be able to resist the great beast! But if not, his soul will be no more, and Leviathan will have all the power he’ll ever need!”

“Ngh…” Yami Yugi managed to very slowly get up again.

“It’s futile, you know. You’re just prolonging your suffering, pharaoh. But if you give in, I can assure you it will be over soon enough!”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to face my own darkness.” Yami Yugi looked back to Yugi. “Even before my friends and I had to endure your war, we fought together at Duelist Kingdom. Just when I felt ready to give up… Just when Pegasus had my soul on the brink… It was my friends who saved me. See, Dartz? This is why you can never beat me. You don’t have the love and support of friendship.”

Dartz winced as Leviathan’s influence over Yami Yugi grew weaker. “Y-You think your friendship speeches will work on me?”

Yami Yugi fully stood up now, and the Millennium Puzzle began to glow. “They can… and they will.”

“Don’t tell me… You’re going to use the forbidden magic?”

“Etirihc irakih ukaway, uohsius ustihies uatu!”

Yami Yugi’s dreamy baritone voice echoed far enough for Mokuba and the others to hear from ground level. “What a beautiful voice… Could it be the pharaoh?”

“It’s working!” Yugi spoke with hope in his voice. “…Whatever it is. But what’s happening to Dartz?”

“Uwaaaaa!” Despite how Leviathan quickly began to fade, Dartz apparently looked healthy.

Yami Yugi had finished the Incantation at last. Having spent most of his energy, he fell to the floor and now sat on his feet.

Incidentally, Kaiba felt so refreshed after the song that he could get up again. He decided to direct his newfound energy towards Dartz. “Dartz… You’ll pay, you bas-”

Yugi pulled on Kaiba’s coat. “No, Kaiba, look at him!”

With a perplexed look and two golden eyes, Dartz looked at the short high school student. “What… What is going on?”

Even Kaiba could tell that Dartz’s personality had done a complete 180˚. He looked down to Yami Yugi and asked, “Pharaoh, what did you do?”

“Ngh…” Yami Yugi braced himself against a nearby boulder to sit up straight. “I used the power of the Pharaoh’s Incantation – and my friendship – to free Dartz of Leviathan’s influence.”

“So… A friendship speech saved the day.” Kaiba rolled his eyes.

“Indeed it did!” exclaimed a happy girl’s voice from behind Dartz.

Dartz couldn’t be more delighted to see the familiar faces he thought had abandoned him. “Chris! Father! What are you doing here?”

“Is there something wrong when a daughter misses her dad?” Chris frowned.

“Dartz… Come back,” Ironheart, Dartz’s father, requested. “Atlantis still needs you.”

“No, Father. Not after all I’ve done… I’ve caused my people undue suffering.”

“It was the Orichalcos’ fault, not yours, Dad! Now that it’s gone, everyone really misses you! Especially me.”

“So… this must be what the power of friendship is like.” Dartz shed happy tears when he looked to the chosen duelists again. “Thank you, pharaoh, for getting rid of the evil influence that drove me mad. Now before this city descends into the sea again, I suggest that the three of you make yourselves scarce.”

“Goodbye, pharaoh, and thank you!” Ironheart spoke as the images of himself, Chris, and Dartz began to fade. “Perhaps we may meet again.”

“Up you get, babe.” Kaiba, with Yugi’s help, got Yami Yugi back on his feet, though the pharaoh still felt weak. “Now that that stupid Leviathan is no more, you can rest after all you’ve done today. Then we can duel again.”

“Oh come on, Kaiba, is that all you ever think about?” Yugi whined.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Wow, at least you’re honest.”

The three finally reached the portal and now stepped into it. “I just might start planning another tournament.”

“Hehehe… Hopefully Rex and Weevil won’t rig it like they nearly did in Battle City.”

Almost as if by chance, the two short duelists had just woken up in the hospital room they shared. No longer were there monsters in Domino City; nevertheless, construction crews didn’t waste any time in working to fix the immense damage.

“Ugh… Where am I?” Rex spoke, closing his eyes halfway at the bright sunlight.

“I dunno, where do you think, dino brain?” Weevil sat up. “This is a hospital room! And in case you forgot, we ended up here because you failed to defeat Joey!”

“What do you mean, I failed? You failed because you still couldn’t beat Yugi in a duel!”

“…” Weevil had no comeback for that.

“And what I’d like to know is, how did we end up in the same room together?”

Weevil’s devilish demeanour dropped for a spell as he looked away. “How the hell should I know?”

To Weevil’s dismay, Rex had noticed this change in behaviour. “Weevil? You’re acting weird. I mean, more than usual.”

Weevil broke the tension with, “A-Anyway, I think I want to give that stupid Yugi a piece of my mind!”

As Weevil jumped out of bed, Rex soon followed. “Now we’re talking! This time… This time for sure, I’m going to beat Joey!”

“Now let’s blow this taco stand and get our revenge. For sure this time!”

While the pair headed into the heart of the city, so too did Kaiba and the companions he did not yet want to call friends. Still reeling from the epic battle with Leviathan, Kaiba had no desire to fly and instead ordered Roland to fly them around in the chopper.

“Mr. Kaiba, we’ve searched all of Domino City and still haven’t found Yugi Muto,” Roland spoke over the intercom. “It’s possible that he could have moved.”

“Or worse…” Duke thought out loud. “He might have drowned!”

“Ugh, stop being a negative Nancy all the time!” Tristan scolded. “It’s good to have some positivity every now and then. Why don’t you try it?”

“Um, guys?” Téa tried to alert her friends to the lone figure who stood on the beach, staring into the sunset.

“It’s called being a realist.” Duke tried to resist the noogies Tristan gave him. “Why don’t you try that?”

“Guys!” Téa’s shout silenced everyone. “It’s Yugi!”

“Huh?” Joey glued his face to the window to get a closer look. “You sure about that? If so, then he’s a little taller than I remember.”

Hearing this, Kaiba stopped nodding off and also took a look outside. “Pharaoh!”

“Roland, over there!” Mokuba got into the cockpit and pointed to where Yami Yugi stood.

“All right, we’ve finally found him!” Roland took a look to the back of the chopper and noticed the door was open, with Kaiba about to jump out. “Mr. Kaiba, what are you doing? You don’t even have a parachute!”

“Hehehe…” Mokuba smiled as Kaiba already began his freefall. “You’ll soon find out that he doesn’t need one.”

A thousand feet later, silver-and-sapphire wings sprouted out of Kaiba’s back, amazing his third-in-command. “Wh-Whoa! Mr. Kaiba can do that?”

“I know it’s cool to watch my brother half-shift, Roland, but you need to fly over there, too.”

“Um… Right!” Roland sharply twirled the steering wheel around as the chopper approached the shore.

Yami Yugi dug the toes of his leather boots into the sand and enjoyed the sound of the sunset breeze. He didn’t want to get up yet, however, as Dark Magician Girl’s last encounter with him stuck in his mind.

I’ll see you when you return home, pharaoh. And no matter what happens, I’ll always be in your deck.

“Back home, huh…” The sea water in the sand started to soak into Yami Yugi’s boots. “After everything that’s happened, am I really prepared for-”

Before Yami Yugi could continue his thoughts, the breeze suddenly got stronger, thanks to the beating of Kaiba’s wings. “Kaiba!”

“Pharaoh…” Kaiba’s tone started off angry as he landed. “Where in the FUCK have you been?! Do you have any idea how long I’ve searched for you, only to find you chilling out on the beach like the loser you are?”

“I… I wasn’t ‘chilling out,’ my love. I was thinking about how I should continue my mission.” Yami Yugi stepped a bit further into the shore. “Now that this world is in peacetime, it’s about time that I go back to my own world, ancient Egypt. But now… Now, I’m not sure how I should go about doing it. It also bothers me that despite how much I remember about my past, there are a few things I’m forgetting. Not the least of which is my real name.”

“Hmm…” Kaiba gave Yami Yugi’s concerns a few seconds of thought before saying, “How about you join the KC Grand Tournament to get your mind off of things?”

“Oh come on, Kaiba. You know how much I love dueling, but I don’t have the time while my people are suffering.”

“Are they, though? Back when we first time travelled, you said you couldn’t travel before my… past self’s death. But you can travel to any time after, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then we’ve got all the time in the world.” Kaiba gently hugged Yami Yugi from behind, twirling the golden bangs with his index finger. “Is it so weird for me to want to spend more time with the man I love? I miss the days when we had epic duels, when we were in love with one another before either of us knew. We’ve got so many memories to make together, and what better time to start then now?”

“Seto Kaiba…” Yami Yugi took on a playful tone that Kaiba hadn’t heard. “Are you asking me out?”

“Erm… Uh… I suppose you could say that.”

“Hahaha!” Yami Yugi laughed so hard that Kaiba had let him go. “It’s so much fun to listen to you flounder your words.”

“Sh-Shut up! You know I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

“And did you honestly expect me to say ‘no?’” Yami Yugi stopped laughing and took Kaiba’s hands into his own. “I’d love to go out with you, anywhere you’d like.”

“Then… how about that fancy restaurant by the ocean?” Incidentally, this restaurant was so close that Kaiba could see the multicoloured lights shooting out of it. “I know it’s very popular, but at this point, I don’t give a damn. If everyone finds out that the president of KaibaCorp has a boyfriend, then let them find out.”

“So bold.” Yami Yugi held a hand to Kaiba’s face while the taller man still held his other hand. “Just one of the many things I love about you.”

“Mm.” Kaiba could only hum into the kiss that Yami Yugi gave him.

“And another thing.” Yami Yugi brought Kaiba’s ear closer.

“Hmm?”

“I’d certainly love for you to feel me up with that tail of yours again.”

To Kaiba’s horror, he couldn’t form a response before this tender moment was broken with a, “Phaaaaaraoh!”

“Téa!” Yami Yugi broke the hug but still held onto Kaiba’s hands.

“Oh…” Téa could tell from Kaiba’s expression that she nearly walked in on something interesting. “Sorry to crash your date, guys.”

“Mr. Kaiba!” Roland got out of the chopper, only to find his boss holding hands with another man.

“What, Roland? Got something to say?”

“N-Not at all, sir!”

“Good. Because even if you did, I would have just told you to stuff it.”

“Hehehe…” Roland laughed nervously, not wanting to say another word after what he just heard. So he changed the subject. “So, about this new tournament… It’s going to have competitors from all around the world, isn’t it?”

“What, rich boy’s holding another tournament? I’m down for that!”

“Maybe I’ll enter too,” Tristan pondered out loud.

“If all my friends are in, then so am I!” Téa happily proclaimed.

“You’ll all lose before you can get the privilege of facing me, you know,” spoke Kaiba.

“Then how about I use you as target practice?”

“No, Wheeler, I don’t feel like dueling today.” Kaiba began to walk back onto the street, with Yami Yugi close by.

“You’re going to blow off dueling? For what?”

Kaiba took Yami Yugi’s hand into his own, eliciting a curious reaction from the nearby mini crowd. “A date.”

___

Author’s note: The next chapter will begin the season 5 arc. Unlike most of the fanfic so far, this arc will mostly feature original material, and will not cover the KC Grand Tournament.

[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede            Chapter 49:  What Has To Be Done

Source:  @fortheloveofbarba

Chapters 1-45  Chapter 46  Chapter 47  Chapter 48

A young man brought a large bouquet of flowers through the door to the squad room.  

“Oh, no,” Amanda warned, catching Laura’s attention.

“I got flowers for a Laura Parker?”  The delivery man called out, looking around.

Laura rolled her eyes and indicated the chair next to her desk.  “Have a seat,” she said to the delivery man.  “This is gonna take longer than you expected.  Hope you’re not double-parked.”

When Olivia returned from ComStat, she saw the flowers and knew immediately that Parker had received another gift from Simmons.  Catching Rollins’ eye, she pointed to the bouquet and raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.  Him again. Parker and Fin are at the flower shop right now.”

“Is there a card?”  

“Yeah, he’s escalating.  This one is an out-and-out threat.”  Rollins handed Olivia an evidence bag with a florist’s card inside.

I love you.  Don’t make me hurt you like you’re hurting me.

Olivia scowled.  “They should’ve checked with me first.  This isn’t something Parker can be investigating anymore.  What if he’s waiting for her at the flower shop?”

“Fin’s there.”

“That’s something.  But you’re right, he’s escalating.  So this is the last time.”

“I don’t envy you telling Parker that.”

“Yeah.”

 **********

The package delivered to Laura three days later was the size of a shoebox, but heavy.  That, in itself, had been enough to prompt the evacuation of the station house and investigation by the bomb squad.  But it wasn’t a bomb.  It was worse.

Laura felt sick.  The poor cat appeared to have been healthy and well cared for, with a collar that included an ID tag.  Until the sick bastard had decapitated and disemboweled it.  

“Fuck,” she whispered.  She looked up at Olivia, her face pale and her eyes wide.  “I don’t suppose we can keep this from my husband.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Awesome.  Cue the ‘we’re leaving town until they catch this creep’ speech.”

“He’s got a point.”

“Oh, not you, too.”

“Yes.  Me, too.”

“Is that an order?

“Not yet.  But Simmons is out of control.  You need to let us take it from here.”  

“I’m working other cases!  I’ve got work to do.  If he comes for me, Fin and I will deal with him.  Please, Liv.  As long as I’m around, he’ll keep doing this stuff, and every time he does, he’s exposed. That gives us the chance to catch him. I split, he goes to ground until I’m back.  Or worse, he starts on someone else.”

“All right.  For now.  But you stay far away from this investigation.  Understood?”

“Understood, Lieu.”

 Rafael was livid.  The moment he heard about the cat, he was on the phone to Laura, telling her to stay at the station house until he could come get her and take her out of town.  Laura closed her eyes, shook her head, and went into the crib, from which the squad expected to hear arguing from behind the closed door.  There was no yelling, but they could hear the clipped words and exaggerated pronunciation of a very tense discussion.  

“Rafael, I love you.  I know you’re worried about me, and I appreciate it.  But this is not. your. call.”

“¡Joder![1]  

“Look, Liv’s OK with me staying on.  If you won’t trust my judgment, trust hers.”

“It’s not your judgment I question, it’s this maniac’s. We’re not done talking about this. In the meantime, you be careful.”

“Always.  Now go back to work.”

The following day, as Laura and Fin drove across town working a case, they noticed a car tailing them.  

“You think it’s him?”  Fin asked.

“Let’s check it out.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Give him what he wants.”

“You sure?”  Fin squinted at Laura.

“You got me, right?”  She shrugged, grinning at him.

“If Barba asks, I was against this from the beginning,” Fin said, pulling into a parking lot.  

The blue Hyundai compact pulled into a parking stall near them, but across the aisle.  No one got out.  Fin and Laura decided to push it by getting out of their car and heading to either side of the Hyundai.  As soon as they did, though, the Hyundai pulled back out of the stall and squealed off, nearly clipping Laura in the process.  She jumped and rolled just in time to avoid being hit.

Fin ran to her side and helped her up from the pavement. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” she told him, disgusted.  “Damn, that was him.  We almost had him.”

Laura’s phone rang.  She didn’t recognize the number, but that wasn’t unusual.  Just after she answered, her expression went hard and she pushed the speaker button.

“- and I don’t like that.  You really hurt my feelings, Laura.  Why won’t you love me?”

“Hey, Art, I know you’re upset.  Why don’t you come back here?  Maybe we can talk about it.”

“Get rid of that other guy.”

“I can do that,” she said.  Fin tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, but didn’t interfere.

“You- you will?”  Simmons stammered.  

“Yeah, Art.  I don’t want to hurt your feelings.  Let’s talk.”

“You’re trying to trick me.”

“I’m trying to fix things between us, Art.  That’s all.”  

“You’re a liar!  You bitch, you’re trying to trick me!  Why are you such a bitch?”  At first, he had been shouting furiously into the phone.  Now, Fin and Laura could hear him begin to sob.  “All I ever did is love you!  Why won’t you love me back?”

“Come on, Art, please don’t cry.  Just come back and talk to me.”  

“Yeah, I’m gonna come back, you filthy whore, and I’m gonna rip you apart!”  He was screaming, almost incoherent before the call ended abruptly.  

Laura and Fin looked at eachother, stunned.  

“Next mood swing in 3…2…1…”  Fin murmured.

“Holy crap.  He’s completely unhinged.”

“Yeah.  I think it might be time for you to bow out.”

“Screw that.  We’ve got him, Partner.  All I gotta do now is stay put and let him come to me.”

Squealing tires drew their attention to the end of the row of cars where a blue compact was tearing around the corner.  

“Go!”  Fin yelled, pushing Laura toward one row of cars while he sprang for the other.  

As soon as Simmons cleared the corner of the row of cars, he aimed his car directly at Laura.  She could see his red face, distorted with rage, teeth bared, as he bore down on her. She ran between two cars to avoid being crushed between Simmons’s Hyundai and their squad car.  He aimed at the space Laura had entered, his compact ramming violently into the cars on either side.  He immediately jammed the Hyundai into reverse, pulled back a few feet and, ramming the gearshift again, shot out the other end of the aisle before either Laura or Fin could get off an effective shot.

Laura slammed her hand down hard on the hood of a car and swore as Fin reached her.  

“You OK?”  He asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and looking her over.  

“Yeah, yeah.  How is that car still drivable?  Just my luck, I get the stalker with the indestructible Hyundai.”

“Let’s call it in.”

 Rafael was stiff and quiet when he arrived at the station that evening to take Laura home. She knew without asking that someone had told him about the incident in the parking lot, which meant he was going to be implacable about making her leave town until Simmons was caught.  

It had been over a week that Laura hadn’t been allowed to work late or to go anywhere alone.  It drove her crazy, but even she had to admit it was necessary.  It would have been nice, working normal hours and going home with Rafael in time for dinner, if it hadn’t been for the reason. At first, they had enjoyed it and taken advantage of the opportunity to spend the long evenings in bed together. But as time had gone by, and Simmons had become more aggressive about stalking Laura, romance had given way to tension as Rafael had become more anxious for her safety, and Laura more determined to stay in New York and live her life as normally as possible.  With each incident, the strain got worse.  

As if by agreement, they didn’t discuss the situation on the drive home, or as they made dinner together, he dressed in jeans and a sweater, she dressed in sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt.  They both knew the situation had turned a corner.  

Rafael tried to be calm.  He knew they were going to have to have a very difficult conversation, but, for now, he just wanted to enjoy being with Laura.  He looked across the kitchen at her, looking cuter than anyone should look in their most casual clothes; hair in low pigtails, barefoot, cutting up vegetables for a salad.  As gorgeous as she looked in an evening gown with her hair and makeup perfect, as beautiful as she was in the street clothes she wore to work, he found her most irresistible like this; no makeup, hair haphazard, in grubby clothes that only incidentally revealed her curves.  This was a Laura that belonged only to him.  

“You’re staring at me,” she said, giving him a tentative grin.  

“Hard not to.  You’re pretty cute.”

Her smile became more genuine.  “I’m cute?  Have you seen you?”

Rafael took the few steps across the kitchen to where she was.  She turned to him, putting her arms around his neck as she drew her to him.  

“Te amo,”[2] he whispered into her hair.

“Me, too.”  

They stood there, simply holding one another, for quite some time.  They didn’t say anything out loud; there was no reason.  That evening, they flirted throughout dinner, talking about everything but Simmons.  By the time dinner was over, they weren’t in the mood to bother doing more than toss the dirty dishes in the sink before they hurried, kissing and removing clothes as they went, to their bedroom.  

The next morning, as she pulled on a leather jacket, Laura continued the conversation they’d finally begun shortly after waking. She did everything she could to try to convince Rafael that she needed to join her team in the hunt for the creep who was stalking her.  

“Why are we even talking about this?  This is my job.  It’s dangerous.  That’s just how it is.“

“Te amo, Laura, pero lo juro vas a ser mi muerte,”[3] Rafael muttered, shaking his head.

She tried another tack.  “I’m the one he’s looking for, Rafael.  They need me to…”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what they need.  You are not leaving this house.”  Laura had never heard the steel growl Rafael used.  She blinked in surprise.

“So, what?  I’m a prisoner now?”  She asked.

“If that’s what it takes.”  He looked her straight in the eyes.

“What?”

Rafael stepped closer to her.  He spoke in his usual rapid-fire manner, his voice low and serious.  “Laura, you are my wife.  Your life is more important to me than my own, and I am going to protect you, no matter how angry you get at me.  I will charge you with a crime if I have to, get you locked up where every cop in the city can watch out for you.  If you turn this into a battle of wills, you’ll find out you aren’t actually the stubborn one in this marriage.”  

Laura stared.  She’d seen him in this mood before, although it wasn’t usually directed at her.  It was useless to argue.  She’d seen the best defense lawyers in New York try.  She sighed and took her jacket back off.  

He started to say something, but Laura did not want to hear “Good girl.”  Or anything like it.  She cut him off.

“If you speak, I will taze you,” she said. Rafael stifled a smile.  

She was restless and hated what felt to her like making the rest of the team fight her battles.  But there was something deeply sexy about Rafael’s masculine protectiveness. His absolute demand that she stay safe made her feel loved and precious to him.  Even in this lousy situation, he managed to give her new reasons to love him.

Laura paced around the apartment, checking her phone every minute.  She knew Rafael was only pretending to work, watching and waiting to see if she would try to leave the apartment.  As she was looking at her phone for the millionth time that morning, there was a knock on the door.  

She stood at the end of the short hall, gun in hand, as Rafael looked out the peephole.

“It’s Liv,” he said, opening the door.

Olivia stepped in while Laura holstered her gun.

“Something’s happened.”  Rafael said.

“Yeah.  You guys are gonna want to pack.”

“What’s he done?”  Laura asked, moving a step closer.  

“His car’s outside.  With a body in it.”

“Outside.”  Rafael looked at Laura, then back to Olivia.  “Outside here?  This building?”

“Yeah.”

Laura gasped.  “How the hell does he know where we live?”

“Come on,  He knows everything about you.  And now he’s killed a woman.”

“What woman?”  Rafael’s voice was hard.

“One that looks enough like your wife to be her twin.”

“Fuck packing.  We’re out of here now.”  

“Rafa,” Olivia said, “You might as well take the time to pack.  Right now there’s just me and Fin.  In two minutes, there’s gonna be a hundred cops outside.  Take your time.  Call me when you’re ready, and we’ll get you to your car.”

An hour later, the CSU techs had checked Rafael and Laura’s car and found no sign of incendiary devices or tampering with the engine or brakes.  With their luggage hastily tossed in the back, Rafael drove out of the parking garage, out of the neighborhood, and out of the city.  With each mile, they both felt better.  Laura wanted to be working with her squad to catch Simmons, but she could feel Rafael’s anxiety melting away, which mattered more to her.  

“Any idea where we’re going?”  She asked as they emerged from the Lincoln Tunnel into the New Jersey sunshine.

“Where would you like to go, mi amor?[4]  The beach? The mountains?  North?  South?”

“Trenton.”

“Trenton!?”  

“Yeah.  Trenton. That way, there’s no reason to go out. We’ll just stay in our hotel room and I can have my way with you 24/7 until they catch Simmons.”

Laura enjoyed the first real laugh she’d heard from Rafael in a long time.  “Tell you what,” he said.  “Let’s go somewhere wonderful.  We can still just stay in our hotel room and you can have your way with me 24/7.  For as long as you want.”  The look he gave her shot jolts of electricity through her.

“Deal.  You do realize you’re hot as hell, right?”

Rafael just smiled.  

That evening, Rafael and Laura lay on the floor of a small but luxurious cabin in the Poconos, not far from where they’d spent their honeymoon.  They cuddled together in a nest of blankets and pillows they’d made in front of the fireplace.  

“You know the cliché about a bearskin rug in front of the fire?  No one ever tells you the bearskin rug is to cushion your spine from the floor,” Rafael mumbled.  His voice made a pleasant rumble in his bare chest where her head rested on it. 

“Pro tip.  When your wife rocks your world in front of a roaring fire, it’s very unromantic to complain about how hard the floor is.”  

“Sorry.”  

“But as long as we’re being honest, it is a little cold down here.  How about we get in bed and you can rock my world?”  

“Again?  If I’d known you were so demanding, I’d never have married you.”

“Oh, there is so much wrong with that statement. First, you did know how demanding I am. Second, you love how demanding I am. Third, you would still have married me, because you’re hopelessly in love with me.”

“Guilty.  On all counts.”  He tightened his arms around her and kissed her on top of her head, then stood up and helped her to her feet.  

 They were awakened somewhere near dawn by a muted crash. Both Rafael and Laura immediately woke, even from their sated, exhausted sleep.  They sprang apart, leapt from bed and hastily pulled on the closest clothes. Laura signaled Rafael for quiet. Taking her Glock from the bedside table, she flipped off the safety and stepped to him, whispering in his ear.  

“Go in the bathroom and lock the door.  Call for help.  Don’t open the door, no matter what you hear,” she hissed.  

“I’m not gonna let you-“

“Hazlo!”[5]  She whispered harshly.  “I need to know you’re safe, so I can concentrate on him.”  She stepped, barefoot and silent, toward the other room of the cabin, pulling the door nearly closed behind her.

She peered around the cabin’s greatroom, but didn’t see anything out of place.  She slid her back along the wall toward the door as quietly as she could, intending to surprise Simmons when he tried to get in.  She guessed that the sound that had awakened them was Simmons breaking a pane on the front door of the cabin, so she looked for movement there.  She didn’t see any.  When she was as close as she intended to get to the door, she stopped moving and waited.  

She didn’t wait long.  As she stood against the wall, weapon aimed at the floor, looking toward the door, she heard a sound to her left and turned to see Art Simmons swinging a baseball bat at her.  She had just enough time to turn to the side and put her arm up, which prevented the bat from hitting her head, but she was still knocked off her feet by the force of the blow.  She uttered a loud grunt as her impact with the floor struck the Glock from her hand, It went skittering along the pine flooring.  

Simmons roared as he lifted the bat over his head and brought it crashing down on the spot where Laura had been the instant before. She rolled toward him, using her weight against his ankles to unbalance him.  He moved his feet to regain his balance, giving her the opportunity to grab his left leg as he shifted his weight to his right.  He slammed to the ground with a yell.  

“You fucking bitch!”

Simmons rolled to his knees as Laura scuttled away from him.  He pulled a jagged hunting knife from a sheath on his belt.  

“I told you I was gonna rip you apart!  I loved you!”  

He threw himself at her, knife held in his fist, and there wasn’t enough room between him and the wall to evade him completely. He landed on her right leg, which still left her able to kick viciously at his face with her left.  He twisted his neck to avoid most of the force, and grabbed her ankle to pull her toward him, using his knife hand on the floor to lift himself further onto her.  Again he raised the knife, this time able to use his weight to keep her from pulling away from him.  She reached up, grabbing his forearm with both hands to hold the knife away from her.  She screamed wordlessly with the effort of pushing with all the strength she had in both arms to keep him from burying the knife in her chest.

“I know that man is here, you cheating whore.  I don’t care about him.  He’s nothing to us.  It’s you!  You just won’t love me!  Why are you so cold?”  He began to cry as he continued to pull down on his arm, trying to stab her with the wicked blade.  

She tried to twist the knife out of his hand, but he was much stronger than she was, with wrists as thick as her forearms.  The knife moved ever closer to her chest as she tried to kick her legs free from under him.  

“He can’t have you!”  Simmons sobbed.  “You’re making me kill you!  It’s the only way to make you mine forever!  And then I’ll do myself, and we can be together.” 

He suddenly yanked his knife arm up, hard, pulling it out of Laura’s hands.  She was surprised, but used his movement to pull her left leg out from under him, bending her knee and pushing as hard as she could against his abdomen with her foot to get him off of her.  As he was reared up, preparing to thrust the knife down into her chest, a blast thundered through the room and he went still.

For a split second, Laura couldn’t figure out what was happening, but when he began to fall toward her, she used her leg and her arms to shove him away from her with all her strength.  He fell to the floor, limp and heavy, and didn’t move.  In the dim light, she first saw the pool of blood begin to spread beneath his head, then focused on the ragged hole above his left eyebrow.  

She rolled over onto her elbows, gasping from exertion, and looked back toward the bedroom door to see Rafael standing there, still holding her Glock aimed at Simmons.  For a long moment, they simply stared, openmouthed, at one another, both panting.  

“¿Estas bien?”[6] He asked quietly.

“Sí. ¿Tú?”[7]  

“No se.”[8]

Laura got to her feet as Rafael flipped on the safety of the gun and set it quickly onto the heavy oak table in the kitchen area of the room as though he couldn’t get rid of it fast enough.  They rushed to clasp each other, beginning to dimly hear sirens in the distance.  

“He was going to kill you.”

“Not with you around.”

“Laura…”  Rafael crushed her to him, burying his face in her hair.  

“It’s OK, mi amor, it’s OK…”

They were both beginning to shake now that the surges of adrenaline had stopped.  They stood holding one another, waiting for whoever belonged to the approaching sirens.

“I had to shoot him.”  Rafael murmured.

“Yes.  You did. He would’ve killed me.”

“We’re messing up the evidence, you know.  I’m getting gunshot residue on you.”

“Hold me anyway,” she whispered, tightening her arms around him.  “You saved my life.  Thank you.”

“It was my turn.”

Soon, the crunch of tires on the gravel and flashes of red and white light announced the arrival of at least two police cruisers. Still holding Laura’s hand, Rafael led her around Simmons’s body to the door, and turned on the lights.  He opened the door, but they didn’t step out.

“Nobody’s armed,” he called.  “We’re coming out.”

Slowly, hands first, Rafael and then Laura stepped out onto the porch to see three Pocono Mountain Regional Police cruisers and six officers, guns drawn, fanned across the front of the cabin.  

“Is the intruder still inside?”  One of the officers called to them.

“Yes,” Laura called back, “But he’s dead.”

All six officers stood up from their defensive positions behind cars and car doors, holstering their weapons.  The one who had spoken stepped around the front of his cruiser and up onto the porch.  He looked Rafael and Laura over, noting a few smears of blood on her.

“Weapon’s on the table,” Rafael told him.  

“All right, you two step over here while we take a look.” The officer indicated the end of the porch, away from the door.  “You sure he’s dead?”

“We’re sure,” Rafael answered.  

They moved to the side of the porch, putting an arm around one another where they stood.  As several of the officers entered the house, Rafael noticed that the planks of the porch were cold on his bare feet, and the night air raised goosflesh on his bare chest.  Laura was also barefoot, wearing only his T-shirt over a pair of flannel pants.  Two of the officers stepped over to them as the others began their work inside.

“Are we waiting for a crime scene unit?”  Rafael asked.  “It’s cold out here and we could use some more clothes if you need us to stay outside.”

“Let’s give the Sarge a minute inside, and we’ll see what we can do.  So, what happened here tonight?”  

So began a long process that lasted well into the morning. Olivia and Fin arrived shortly after sunrise to find Rafael, now fully dressed, being questioned on the couch in the greatroom of the cabin.  Laura, still barefoot, but now wearing jeans and a sweater that obviously belonged to Rafael, was sitting in a rocking chair in the bedroom giving her statement.  Both looked composed, although Rafael’s mouth was set in a grim line and he was slouched down.  Olivia wasn’t surprised.  Rafael had never had to kill anyone before.  She knew well the feelings that came with even the most righteous of shootings.  She made a mental note to make sure he took the necessary steps to work through it.

Simmons’s body was still there, undisturbed since the shooting.  They were still waiting for a Pennsylvania state crime scene team to arrive.  Olivia guessed that the paper bags sealed with evidence tape on the table contained the clothes Laura and Rafael had been wearing when the shooting occurred.

Olivia quickly identified the officer in charge of the scene and introduced herself and Fin, explaining that this was the culmination of a case her unit had been working.  Once the introductions were accomplished, Fin went into the bedroom to Laura, who hugged him long and hard.  He knew she and Rafael couldn’t be questioned together, and he also knew she would be needing some support right now.  He knew better than most what lay beneath her tough façade.  In her place, he would have appreciated her silent presence, too.  So he simply stood next to her as a local detective continued to take her statement.

“So what was this guy’s beef with you?”

“I arrested him on suspicion of a rape about six months ago.  He wasn’t our doer, but he became fixated on me.  I started to see him, hanging around the station house and the courthouse. For the last two months, he’s been outside the station almost every day.  He’s also been in the courtroom every time I’ve had to testify.  I have no idea how he knew when that would be, but there he was.”

“Did he talk to you?”

“Not at first.  But about a month and a half ago, he started sending me things.  Flowers, with creepy messages about how he loved me. The next time I saw him outside the station, I confronted him.  He acted like he was terrified of me, and ran away.  But he didn’t stop.  He started sending more presents to the station; candy, balloons, jewelry; always with a creepy message, but not threatening until the last couple of weeks. The messages started to be accusatory. ‘You’re cheating on me’, ‘why won’t you love me’, that kind of thing.  And then, last week, he went completely off the rails.”

She explained the last few incidents.

“How did he find you here?”  The detective asked.

“Good question.  We figure he must’ve put a GPS tracker on our car.  He’s a weird mix of crazy and smart.  He’s no criminal mastermind, but he had some surprisingly good stalker skills.”  

“Our crime scene team will check your car when they get here.  If there’s a tracking device, we’ll need to impound it.”

 “You said the lights weren’t on.”  The officer in charge asked Rafael.  “How’d you drill the guy with a perfect head shot in the dark?”

“Look around.  This cabin is tiny.  I was standing in the doorway of the bedroom.  Look where the body is.  That’s, what? Five feet?  Not much of a shot.”

“You have firearms training?”

“Depends how you define training.  I’m married to a cop who keeps a firearm.  Our jobs, we make enemies.  So we joined a gun club and I learned to shoot.  We have a standing date once a month when we go for target practice.”

 Eventually, the crime scene van arrived and did the expected tests and examinations of Rafael and Laura.  They photographed Laura’s minor injuries and tested their hands for gunshot residue.   At last, they were free to go, although the police impounded Rafael and Laura’s car which had, in fact, been fit with a GPS tracker.  

The four New Yorkers wearily piled into the squad car Olivia and Fin had arrived in.  None of them expected any trouble to come out of the shooting.  

Rafael lay at an angle across the back seat, with Laura lying against him, their arms around each other.  She looked up at him.

“You OK?”

He frowned.  “I think so. I guess we’ll see.  Life with you isn’t going to be boring, is it?”

“Right this minute, I could use a little boring.” With that, she laid her head back down on his chest.

Fin, who usually drove because he was a terrible passenger, was the only one still awake when they reached the New Jersey border.  

[1] Fuck!

[2] I love you.

[3] I love you, Laura, but I swear you’re going to be the death of me.

[4] My love

[5] Do it!

[6] Are you OK?

[7] Yes.  You?

[8] I don’t know.

[housebeleren]

Theros Beyond Death Limited: Bomb Rares

Last but definitely not least, here are the Rares & Mythics for Theros Beyond Death. Hope you have some of these in your Sealed pool for prerelease, because these are the cards that can push your deck over the top. Let’s knock this out!

White

I have this pegged as the best White Rare in the set, for Limited. On its own, its a massive threat that will be just about impossible to race, and it runs away with the game really quickly. Your opponent will need immediate removal for this, or it’s going to be very hard to lose. 4.5/5

We play 5 mana removal all the time in Limited, and while it’s never exciting, it gets the job done. But this one comes with extra value attached, as reanimating your best dead threat (with an extra counter, no less), is something we also pay 5 mana for. Chapter 2 will mostly not do anything, but this is still a pretty clear 2-for-1, and you’ll basically always play it. 4.0/5

Elspeth, like most Planeswalkers, is powerful, and you should definitely play her. That said, this Elspeth seems more bonkers in Constructed. In Limited, the most likely line of play will be creating two tokens, then using her -1 the next few turns in a row to push damage through. That’s good, but it makes her more akin to History of Benalia than anything else, a card that’s great, but not unbeatable. In Constructed, she’ll be an important source of inevitability. 4.0/5

The Gods are all pretty much bombs. Even if he never becomes a creature himself, he’s still going to make racing incredibly difficult for your opponent, as you keep gaining life and building up your creatures. Which, weirdly, makes him splashable, though he’s obviously way stronger in a heavy White deck. 4.5/5

It’s been a long time since we’ve had an easy to cast board wipe at 4 mana. Your opponent is slightly more likely to get a card draw off of it, but that’s pretty negligible because it shouldn’t be hard to set yourself up for a situation where you can easily turn this into a 3-for-1 or greater. It gets less valuable post-board once your opponent knows it’s there, so be aware of that. But you can bet lots of Game 1s will be decided by this 4.0/5

White, as per usual, has some great bombs at Rare. No surprises when it comes to the threats, but the presence of a 4 mana sweeper is a very welcome change and will definitely impact the Limited format.

Blue

Yes, it costs a lot, but this card will make people scoop when it comes down. It just... does everything Blue wants to do to end the game. You get a giant Monster that pretty much can’t be removed, then you get two turns of unfettered attacks with it. If they’re still alive after that, you get to take their best thing permanently. 7 mana is a lot, but you can get there in most games, just make sure you have ways to stall, and once you get here, this card will singlehandedly take care of the rest. 5.0/5

This is pretty bonkers. You might as well just keep one land permanently tapped for this, since it’s pretty much always correct to pay, even at the expense of slowing yourself down a bit. There will be some games where this comes down on turn three and runs away with the game all by itself. Otherwise, it will at least eat a removal spell. It demands action from your opponent, and that’s exactly what I like in my Rares. 4.5/5

Thassa is less busted than Heliod, but still does a lot. She can retrigger ETBs (including Constellation), and provide pseudo-Vigilance for one creature a turn. She also completely invalidates most Enchantment-based removal (Banishing Light excepted), and turns into a really potent mana sink in the late game. If you get your devotion up, she’s a massive threat in and of herself. She’s less good if you’re not deep on devotion, but still worth including in most decks. 4.0/5

Thryx is likely going to be the largest threat in the air, and he comes down at the end of an opponent’s turn, so you’re usually going to get a turn to swing with him before he’s removed. He also helps ramp your bigger spells, and incidentally hates on Blue control, which is cute. But mainly, he’s a big flier. 4.0/5

The ceiling on Wavebreak Hippocamp is really, really high. If you have lots of Instants & Flash, it’s an engine that will bury your opponent in card advantage really fast. The rating I’m giving assumes you get to draw one card off of it. In a deck built to use it, it goes up a half or full point. In a deck with only one or two cards that can trigger it, it goes down. 3.5/5

Well, Blue got some bombs, didn’t it? I like how many of these cards are generically pretty solid, but become incredible in the right build. Except Kiora Bests the Sea God, which is just ridiculous in any deck.

Black

The cleanest removal for just about any threat in the game, and with Surveil 1 tacked on for enabling Escape. You should always run this. 4.0/5

I honestly don’t know how you’re losing if you play Erebos. The life loss isn’t insignificant, but it ensures you’ll bury your opponent in card advantage with every trade. He’s not great if you’re already super behind, but assuming you cast him when you’re at parity, he should help you win very quickly. 4.5/5

Flexible Instant-removal that doubles as Escape hate? I’ll take it. 4.0/5

This is a nonbo with Escape, but it’s so good on its own it doesn’t matter. First of all, it’s a 4/4 flier for 4 mana, which is great. That alone would be one of the best cards in your deck. But getting copies of every creature that dies, even if they’re 1/1s, is just insane. You get to retrigger any ETB, and they have all abilities they originally had. I expect this to be very good. 4.5/5

Woe Strider is a recursive threat that gets bigger when it comes back, and it basically always gets a Scry 1 tacked on to it. Also, the sacrifice ability doesn’t cost mana, which is phenomenal, so you can turn any other creature death into a free Scry. 4.0/5

Black’s Rares seem absolutely nuts. Even some of the others I didn’t pick are still great, so starting your pool with one or more of these is a great place to be.

Red

I suspect a lot of people won’t realize how good this will be. After a few turns, your opponent will have little to no board, while you will have been able to continue building up. It’s a massive tempo win, and can even help you come back from behind, which is a rare thing for Red. 4.0/5

I can’t overstate how much card advantage this card represents. Yes, a 4/2 is small for a 5 drop, but it shouldn’t be hard to mostly empty your hand before you cast this, and net 2-3 cards right away. It will pretty easily trade with something, and then represents more threat in the graveyard, even if the cost is steep. It’s even a great topdeck. I suspect this will be great, even if it’s even better for Constructed. 4.0/5

The base stats alone are pretty awesome, but the fact that this has a very reasonable Escape cost and comes back bigger makes it even better. This will be a persistent and annoying threat for your opponents. 4.0/5

I actually don’t think Purphoros is all that bonkers in Limited. His ability is much more a plant for Constructed magic, so in Limited he’s mainly to be evaluated assuming you get devotion going. In that case, he’s still good, but not insane value on his own the way some of the other gods are. 3.5/5

I mean, that’ll do. This can take down nearly anything, and if you’re ahead in the game, you can just throw out a beater to threaten their life total. 4.0/5

Tectonic Giant seems great. While the stats are a bit anemic on their own, it’ll chuck a Lava Spike or draw you a card if your opponent tries to remove it, and if you can safely swing, the value is going to be nuts. Combat tricks go way up with this, since your opponent will always try to trade for it. 4.0/5

Red doesn’t have any completely unbeatable bombs, but the average Rare is really great, so I don’t think it’s much of a problem. Seems very strong.

Green

I love getting Legendaries of somewhat atypical tribes like this. A 3/5 with Reach would be playable for 4 mana anyway, but Arasta spawns babies every time your opponent casts an Instant or Sorcery. Sometimes it won’t come up much, and the plethora of Enchantment removal in this set makes it worse than it would be in other formats. Still, it’s a pretty strong hoser against certain decks that’s maindeckable, and that’s a good place to be. 3.5/5

If all the modes occurred at once, this would be a 4/4 creature that draws two cards on ETB, which is INSANE. Spreading it out over 3 turns (the fourth chapter is mostly flavor) gives your opponent more opportunity to deal with it, but there are going to be games where it just goes off as planned, and those games are going to be really, really good. 4.0/5

Auras normally have the issue of being easy 2-for-1s, but this cleverly gets around that by compensating you with two bodies when the creature dies. This will give you a massive swing when it comes down. It’s not a bomb, but I mention it because there will be people who ignore it simply because it’s an Aura, and this one is definitely worth playing. 3.5/5

Nylea is probably second to Heliod when it comes to Limited potential. Green loves permanents and has lots with double & triple mana costs, so getting her active will be easier than in some other colors. But her mana sink is going to be absolutely incredible in the late game, and should make wins easy if you don’t get overwhelmed too early. I’d basically always run her. 4.0/5

It only takes one Enchantment to make Setessan Champion great, and in a deck built around the theme, she’ll be an unstoppable engine. Pick highly. 4.0/5

Green surprisingly doesn’t have any crazy bomb Rares, at least from what I can tell. But it makes up for it with above average Commons & Uncommons, so Green decks are likely to be very consistent and powerful.

Multicolor & Colorless

This should come as no surprise. Ashiok starts with a pile of loyalty, and churns out surprisingly big creatures to protect themself, and yes I know that’s not a word (”technically”). Having Recoil on the -3 is phenomenal as well, and deals with basically any permanent (or Enchantment-based removal) very effectively. The Ultimate doesn’t take long to get to, and once you do, I like that it counts not only cards exiled by Ashiok, but also any they’ve exiled with Escape as well. Very flavorful and a clear bomb. 4.5/5

The casting cost is a challenge, to be sure, but this Sphinx is a near-perfect Control finisher. It’s big, keeps your life total high, blocks all but the biggest of threats, and is nigh-impossible to kill with targeted removal. Once you untap with it, the card draw keeps you ahead. I’m starting very high on this, assuming you’re in the color pair, since this is not very splashable. 4.5/5

Speaking of not splashable, Haktos here is completely unplayable outside of Red/White. That said, if you’re in the colors, he’s a massive threat that’s incredibly hard to deal with. Sometimes, he’ll trade down and that will be a feel bad. But other times, he’ll be unblockable and unkillable, and those times will be incredibly frustrating for your opponent. I’d give him a try. 3.5/5

Klothys may actually be the best god for Limited, no joke. Yes, the Devotion threshold is higher, but she comes down early and the ability is fuego. She's a clock in and of herself while keeping your life total nicely buffered, and will occasionally help you ramp out a threat ahead of schedule. She’s also incidental Escape hate, and that is absolutely relevant. I highly recommend playing Klothys if you open her. 4.5/5

I absolutely love that the designs for the Titans, though I very much wish there were three of them. Kroxa doesn’t do a ton at 2 mana, but that’s just setup. Once it Escapes, it’s absolutely brutal, and even just the threat of this sistting in your graveyard could cause your opponents to try to play around it, which is a great place to be. 4.5/5

Polukranos was a bomb the first time around on Theros, and it’s a bomb again this time. A 4 mana 6/6 is an absolute monster, but it’s ridiculous coming back as a 12/12. Yes, the counters go away when damaged, but this will just eat up whatever you want of the opponent’s board, then come back to do it all over again. The value here is insane, and will dominate Limited games. 5.0/5

Uro is even better than Kroxa. For 3 mana, you get a ramp spell, and then it sits in wait for the moment of Escape. It’s not hard to imagine this being a 3-for-1 or even better. It’s not unbeatable, but it’s pretty insane value. 4.5/5

Shadowspear asks very little, and gives so much. The activated ability won’t come up all that often, but when it does, it will feel so good (destroying gods is always fun). But mainly, it’s just a super-efficient way to power up your creatures and make racing a nightmare for your opponent. 4.0/5

The Rest of the Rares

Eidolon of Obstruction - This is a 2/1 with First Strike for 2. That’s solid in any deck, even if the Planeswalker text is ornamental. 2.5

Heliod’s Intervention - I wouldn’t generally run it for the lifegain alone, but it can gain a pile of life, which in some situations is almost a Time Walk. But being able to snipe lots of Enchantments is completely worth it in a format full of them, and makes this easily maindeckable. I’d be prepared to bump this rating up once the format shakes out. 3.5

Idyllic Tutor - You want at least 2 other Rares worth tutoring for to bother with this. Mostly save it for Constructed. 1.0

Taranika, Akroan Veteran - This is pretty solid. It upgrades your weakest dork to a 4/4 on attack, and is on-curve for 3 mana anyway. 3.5

Ashiok’s Erasure - Cute, but I’d rather just have Cancel most of the time. This is more for Constructed. 1.5

Protean Thaumaturge - Cute, but I’m always wary of cards that do literally nothing on their own. If you have lots of good Enchantment creatures, this gets better, but I’m not sold on its own. 1.5

Thassa’s Intervention - This strikes me as much better in Constructed, but the flexibility to hold it up as an answer then draw cards if there’s nothing worth countering makes it playable. 2.5

Thassa’s Oracle - A 2 drop that smooths your draws is fine by me, but you do want to be in heavy Blue before you play this. The win conditoin will happen every now and then, and there probably is a busted self-mill deck around this if you first pick it. 2.5

Aphemia, the Cacaphony - This is definitely playable on its own as a 2/1 flier for 2, but as soon as you can get some Enchantments in your Graveyard, the value goes way up. It dies to basically every piece of removal in the set, so I’m not super high on it, but the ceiling is high. 3.5

Gravebreaker Lamia - I actually like this quite a bit. I probably wouldn’t run Entomb in any Limited deck (except maybe Ultimate Masters draft), but Entomb stapled to a 4/4 Lifelink Creature is pretty sweet, and this really helps fuel the Escape deck. 3.5

Treacherous Blessing - Three cards for 3 mana is great, but the drawback is real. I’d mostly pass on this unless you have lots of lifegain or good ways to sacrifice Enchantments (There are a few in Red). 2.0

Tymaret Calls the Dead - There is some value here for not much mana, so I’d usually run this. But it’s not as good as the other Rare Sagas. 3.0

Storm Herald - This is a 3/2 with Haste for 3, so evaluate it as that. Sometimes you’ll have an Aura to get back, but not always, and even so it’s just for the one turn. 2.5

Storm’s Wrath - This kills most creatures, but leaves up the big baddies, which makes it a little harder to ensure you’re going to come out on top. Still good, but not quite as good as the White board wipe. Also, White needs sweepers more than Red does. 3.5

Underworld Breach - While clearly a Constructed powerhouse, this isn’t awful in Limited. You’ll buy back your best threat or removal for a 2 mana tax, which is playable, but I’d rather pick a good threat or removal over this first, then add this on the wheel if I’m short on playables. 2.0

Dryad of the Ilysian Grove - If you need need a 2/4 for 3 that fixes your colors, this does the trick very well, and is pleasant to look at while he does so. But he’s not going to be bonkers like he is in EDH. 2.5

Nessian Boar - On the one hand, a 10/6 is fucking massive. On the other hand, I have no idea how to evaluate that downside. Often, it’ll trade with several of your opponent’s creatures at once, but then they’ll draw a bunch of cards to replace them. It does make sure all your other attackers get through, so I’m going to start assuming this is very good and be open to adjusting up or down as the format shakes out. 3.5

Nylea’s Intervention - If there’s a skies deck in the format, this will be the ultimate sideboard card. If not, it’s purely for constructed. 1.5

Nyxbloom Ancient - Someone somewhere is going to win by playing this followed by a massive Purphoros’s Intervention, but most of the time, it’s going to be an expensive 5/5. Good with Nylea, but then you’ve really hit the jackpot. 2.0

Allure of the Unknown - This is so tough to evaluate, but I’m not optimistic. Let’s say you get 4 spells and 2 lands. Your opponent is going to take the best spell and gets to cast it immediately, then untap, while you have to wait until your next turn to cast your second-best cards. That doesn’t strike me as a great option, and this becomes a huge liability if you have a bomb or two in your deck. Let’s save this for Commander. 1.0

Atris, Oracle of Half-Truths - A 3/2 with Meance that does a mini Fact or Fiction is a good deal for 4 mana, even if this will never be bonkers. 3.5

Bronzehide Lion - Watchwolf with the ability to become Indestructible is sweet, and the added value when it dies is excellent. It won’t run away with games, but it’s going to be super annoying to play against. 3.5

Calix, Destiny’s Hand - Calix, aside from being super fine, is a niche card more than an auto-include. You want somewhere in the ballpark of 10+ Enchantments in your deck before I’d say he’s really great. Once you’re there, he’s incredible. 3.5

Dalakos, Crafter of Wonders - 2/4 Merfolk is fine, but unexciting for 3 mana. The rest of the text barely matters. 2.0

Enigmatic Incarnation - The hoops on this seem ridiculous to jump through in Limited. I wouldn’t bother, and I know someone is going to kill me with this now that I’ve said that. 0.0

Gallia of the Endless Dance - Fun Commander, and fun in Limited, particularly if you pick up a few other Satyrs. A nice mix of flavor and playability. 3.5

Kunoros, Hound of Athreos - 3/3 Vigilance, Lifelink, Menace for 3 mana is a great deal, and is definitely playable if you’re in these colors. That said, White/Black are two of the colors that most want to play cards from Graveyards, so this nonbos with many of the best cards in the colors, limiting its usefulness. 3.0

Nyx Lotus - This will be great for Brawl & Commander, and seems basically unplayable in Limited. 0.0

Labyrinth of Skophos - This Maze of Ith variant is useful, but comes at the expense of color fixing in a set where that matters. But I’d still usually run this, since it’s late game utility is so high. 3.0

Temple Lands - These are great, these fix your mana, and they smooth your draw. Play them. 3.0

That’s it! All the cards from Theros Beyond Death! Whew.

What are you excited to play this prerelease?