#and the scene where they all announced their dreams with a foot on the barrel?? i swear i teared up a little

[stargirl230]

thanks for the light

I was just trying to figure out how procreate works but then the op brainworms got to me and 35 hours later here we are! can you tell I miss home-cooked meals :')

(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Cowboy - Part 10

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) -- swearing, and I’ve never been to a rodeo in real life so I probably didn’t make a fully realistic scene, so don’t hate me, it’s fiction lol

Word count: 2281

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

It truly was another world. The country music was playing live from the stage nearby and the endless row of stalls selling assortments from horse gear to food overstimulated you. You had lost Avery in the crowd, the tall man crossing paths with a group of women from high school.

Jaehyun smirked. “He’s always been the popular one.”

“And you the troublemaker?” you offered and Jaehyun laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re the troublemaker. How do you propose I deal with worrying about you when I’m warming up Trickster soon? Maybe you should come with me.”

“I’ll be fine exploring whilst you do that. I’ve seen you ride so much now, I’m convinced your butt is a perfect shape to mold to any saddle seat.”

“Well, you should know, having seen my butt how many times now?”

“Jaehyun!” you gasped, slapping his upper arm and looking around yourselves. You relaxed, realising you saw no familiar faces nearby.

He seemed to read your mind. “Avery knows about us. He’s helping me out by keeping his mother clueless.”

“Would anyone else come from Blayne today?” you asked, and Jaehyun shook his head.

“Not really. It’s more so people from the town over that will. And whilst you’re a household name in Blayne, you’re not on familiar terms yet with others. Which means…”

“Which means?” you repeated, grinning when Jaehyun reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. You looked down at the gesture. “I felt that tremble, Jaehyun.”

“What tremble?” he feigned innocence for only a moment. “Maybe I have some butterflies about today. I want this to go well.”

“It will. I know it will.”

“Because I have your support?” he teased, and you shook your head, trying not to roll your eyes.

“Because it’s a passion of yours. I can tell you want this opportunity.”

“It would be real nice. Joey told me if I qualify, he can help me with the training. I’ll need to find extra time to do it, maybe travel to his barn a few times a week for evening training but it’s doable.”

“You’re so cute, you know that?” you said, recycling one of Jaehyun’s lines. He picked up on it and laughed. “I like seeing you this hopeful.”

“I’m hopeful about us too.”

“You are?”

“If I win today, my Dad will be pretty chuffed. Maybe we could tell him about us.”

“No more acting like teenagers over this. We’re grown adults, Jaehyun. Regardless of if you win or not, let’s tell him. I’m planning on meeting with him on Thursday for my business proposition, so if that goes well, I doubt he’ll have any concerns about us.”

“This is my Dad we’re talking about. There’s a whole lot about him, about us, that you don’t know.”

“Are you hiding someone in the attic?!” you asked, gasping dramatically. Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “You’ve got an entirely different life kept behind closed doors? How about being the culprit to-”

“Here you two are,” Avery interrupted, eyeing your linked hands with high interest. “Is this why you wanted to come today, Y/N? Away from the prying Blayne eyes, you can finally go on a date with your beau?”

“A date?” you pondered before looking up at Jaehyun. He grinned. “We’ve been on a few of those already in Blayne.”

“And no one knows that you two are together? Woah, I’m impressed with how well you’ve covered them up.”

“Not for long,” Jaehyun announced and you smiled happily, nodding in agreement. “But I am mighty glad you’re back, Avery. Can you keep an eye on this one? I’m sure if left to her own devices, some of the sellers in the market here will have her pulling out money she doesn’t need to spend.”

“You’re insulting my judgment so easily!” you called after Jaehyun’s departing back.

Avery grinned. “Well, you chose him over me. I’ve been doubtful of your taste this whole time.”

“Avery McConnell?”

Spinning to see another woman approach you both, you grinned. “He’s all yours. I’m going to go watch from the stadium.”

An hour had passed by, and you were struggling with the concept of being at a rodeo. On one hand, it was thrilling to watch but also reckless. You knew there was a danger behind the sport, as there was with most sports. But you didn’t realise how easy it was to fall off at this calibre of competition.

You gasped as a young girl, no older than fifteen hit into a barrel and her horse was deep in the turn, losing its footing and the pair fell, the horse landing on top of her. With bated breath, you watched as she managed to get back to her feet, albeit with an evident hobble.

“Your first time?” an older woman asked knowingly, and you nodded. “Not from around here?”

“Originally from the city,” you admitted sheepishly, and the woman laughed.

“Called that by a mile.”

“Do I stand out that much?”

“You’re no country pumpkin like me, that’s for sure.”

“Ah.” You looked her over and smiled. “I think you’re lovely.”

“I wasn’t meaning how we look, love. You’re here to support your boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“And he’ll come out here soon, and you’ll be the type to cheer. Don’t. It’s really tacky and could throw him off. Do you even know what barrel racing is about?”

“Some. There’s three barrels, and you have to make it through the sequence with the fastest time and without touching them.”

“It’s a dangerous sport. The horses are trained athletes. It might be all over in fifteen to seventeen seconds, but during that time, it’s a race against their life. They need to move without any issue, carry the weight of their rider perfectly, and dig deep to get around and then gallop off again. And the riders are just as focused. It’s more than just a sequence. Everything counts.”

“Wow, and he had a chance to go pro for this?”

She laughed loudly then. “All cowboys will tell you that, sweetie. Who are you rooting for?”

“Jung Jaehyun,” you mentioned and her amused expression dropped, scooting closer to you. Leaning back from her sudden invasion of your space, you laughed weakly. “Is that a problem?”

“Oh, he’s good. He’s back on the circuit? He took time off ever since the fire. I didn’t think he’d be back to this level.”

“What fire?”

“Blayne’s fire,” she replied, her eyes now peeled to the catalogue, checking out Jaehyun’s details. She gasped. “Joey Newman’s horse?! He didn’t come to mess around today.”

You smiled politely at the woman, slipping into your thoughts. You knew this was a big thing for Jaehyun, but was he that big of a deal in this world? The new information explained the nerves, but he had downplayed this to you all day long. The barrel racing was one of the last sports on the schedule for this rodeo, and for hours beforehand, Jaehyun had assured you it was like a training event. Yet, this woman now had you believing otherwise.

“Can I ask something?” you enquired, coming out of your reverie and the blonde woman nodded. “What happens if he makes the top five today?”

“He’ll be scouted. Perhaps he already is getting calls. He held the fastest time for five years straight in this region. Everyone wanted a piece of him before his father pulled him out.”

“Pulled him out?” you breathed, blinking rapidly. “Why did he-?”

“How about you ask your cowboy that you’re having a fling with all about it, once he’s done racing the clock, if you have further questions.”

“It’s not a fling,” you corrected and she smiled sadly at you.

“Darl, I was dating Billy Burke. You might not know that name but everyone around here did. He went pro, won the Nationals and become a million dollars richer.”

“A million dollars?!”

She shrugged. “I was pregnant with his baby at the time he got offered to go pro. We were supposed to get married. But, you know, it was his dream to go pro. When given the choice between love and the race, he chose the latter. So what if he has money? He has all that fame now too. All I have is his kid who hasn’t met his Daddy once. Let me warn you, cowboys might charm you with their country hospitality but they all have bigger goals than the farms they run back home. Once Jaehyun is given the chance, he’ll forget that Blayne even exists.”

“I doubt that,” you defended. “I’m sorry to hear of your circumstances, and even if Jaehyun and I end, I can confirm Blayne means more to him than-”

“You really don’t know what he did to Blayne, do you?” Pity for you emerged in her eyes. “What do you know aside from his body then?”

Getting up, you stormed out from the bleachers you had been sitting upon, feeling foolish for being so worked up by a stranger. Before you could leave, however, Avery leapt up towards you and clapped his hands together. “He’s next up. Where are you going?”

“Oh, I uh, need fresh air.”

“Worried about him falling off? Don’t be. He’s the best here today, you’re about to see it. No one else can go from being a farmhand to a decent barrel racer without practising than Jaehyun. Come on, you can get air after his run.”

Nodding numbly, you allowed Avery to push you along, taking a seat again. Avery greeted a few of the people around you, and you watched the horse and rider before you now, finishing their run with ease. You looked to the sidelines, wondering where Jaehyun was.

“I thought you said he was next.”

“He is. He’ll be making his way in any second now.”

The grating voice of the commentator muted as soon as you saw the spotted horse come racing into the arena, your eyes peeled on the pair heading towards their first barrel. Clasping your hands together, you watched on intensely, praying Jaehyun and Trickster would make it around safely.

The woman had been right. It was a sport that relied on precision and speed. You had always considered a minute to be such a short period of time, but as the seconds went by, you found yourself changed. Every second counted now.

Jaehyun and Trickster rounded the final barrel and galloped to the exit, Avery’s screams and sudden shaking your arm jostled you out of the blur that had been your vision towards the end.

Fifteen seconds was all it took to give you clarity on your feelings.

“He made it! That lucky son of a bitch!” Avery rejoiced, and you stood up jarringly, walking down the aisle to the exit. Avery was still full of energy at your side. “He’ll be cooling Trickster down, Y/N. Come this way to the holding pen.”

You followed along in a slight daze, your heart thumping with the thoughts within your head. You disregarded all the information, the warnings that stranger had given you. When you saw Jaehyun walking the heavily breathing animal around and patting his neck, you almost broke into a run to reach the side of the pen faster.

Noticing your arrival, Jaehyun grinned and walked the horse over. “Well, what did you think?”

“I think I’m in love you,” you announced sincerely.

“After seeing only one run?!” Avery joked, but Jaehyun’s expression grew serious, not shifting away from yours even as he continued to walk the horse around.

Distractedly, Jaehyun called out for the groom of Joey’s ranch and dismounted, walking over to you and ducking under the metal bar that separated you from him. “You mean what you say?”

You nodded, choking on the sudden emotions that had come with your confession.

“You can’t take it back after I give you this chance, Y/N. You mean it?”

“I love you,” you repeated, and that was all it took for Jaehyun to crash his lips upon yours.

There was no thought to the professionals around you, nor Avery who had stepped aside to give you albeit a tiny amount of privacy. You didn’t care at all who watched you lock lips with Jaehyun right now.

Because it felt right.

You hadn’t expected to arrive in Blayne and find yourself looking in different directions for your life. It had always been well-planned out. You would build your career and work hard during these years, so when you had achieved all you set out for you could relax into love and create a family.

The country didn’t work like that. The values were so different from what you had experienced in your fast-paced life. And now that you had been given the opportunity to slow down a little, to take in the world outside of an office and not be attached to a screen day in and out, you were finding your desires were changing too.

You liked the idea of waking up in someone’s arms and falling asleep whispering sweet nothings to one another. During those fifteen seconds, you imagined your life without Jaehyun in it, and it made you want to do absolutely everything in your power to remain at his side.

You meant the love confession. You had never spoken of love to another person before. It was liberating, fulfilling. As Jaehyun burned his lips into yours, you knew he felt the same.

It hadn’t been long between you. But this summer romance was shaping your world more than you believed it had for his parents all those years ago.

You couldn’t imagine going back to the city now.

_________________

Part 11

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[NCT Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[heynikkiyousofine]

I managed to get two chapters edited tonight, so here is Chapter 4. Things are heating for Kagome and she begins to discover who she really is. Meanwhile, the Northern Kingdom is making plans.

I want to thank y’all again for your love and support! 

@keichanz @neutronstarchild

Inuyasha sighed as he set his feet to the carpeted floor. The dreams were becoming more and more intense, as if the blue eyed woman was in danger, wherever she was at. It made for an uneasy night, filled with tossing and turning. His inner demon clawing at him to protect her. The problem was he didn’t know where she was at and he couldn’t just go run off and look, especially now that Naraku was increasing his violence at their borders.

Rubbing his face in frustration, he strolled into his bathing chambers and grabbed the wash rag, as he felt a large aura approach from the west. Sesshomaru must be arriving soon, the asshole always liked to make an entrance. Knowing his father would want all of them together for breakfast, he hurried to get changed into something more appropriate. Grabbing a red button down tunic, he was just leaving his bedroom, when he bumped into Miroku in the hall.

“Monk.” Inuyasha nodded his direction.

“Good morning, friend. You’re up earlier than usual.” Miroku greeted him cheerfully.

“Couldn’t sleep well, besides the asshole is arriving soon. You know how Father is about family time.” 

Laughing, Miroku only nodded as they strolled down the hall towards the dining area. Sango, Izayoi and Ayame were already seated at the table, talking amongst each other, as Toga and Koga stood near the opposite doorway. Giving everyone a short hello, Inuyasha sat in his usual spot, to the left of his mother and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“Dear, did you not sleep well?” Izayoi asked, a concerned look crossing her features.

“Nah, weird dreams, tossed and turned a lot.”

“If you don’t feel up to it today, maybe you should stay home and relax today. I’m sure with your brother arriving soon, we will discussing upcoming events in the meeting room anyways.”

Nodding again, he turned towards his plate. Peaches were always his favorite, the sweetness of the spring along with the beginning season. Grabbing one from the clay bowl in front of him, he heard foot steps approaching from the hallway.

“Sesshomaru! You made it!” Toga boomed, causing Inuyasha to wince, his ears flattening just a little bit, his head still pounding. 

“Yes, Father. Your letter was urgent, Kagura and Rin, come say hello.” Sesshomaru gestured to the group behind him, Rin squealing in her bright orange dress, as she ran to give her grandfather a hug. Laughing at the sweet sight, a very pregnant Kagura waddled into the dining area as gracefully as a seven month pregnant woman could. “Are those peaches?” She mused, giving Inuyasha a mischievous wink.

Chucking at her antics, he tossed his favorite sister-in-law a ripe peach before taking a bite of his own. Nodding a hello at his brother, Inuyasha watched as Sesshomaru carefully helped his wife into the seat before taking his own. A smiling Rin, being carried by Toga on his shoulders, came to sit at the front of the table.

“Father, she must be able to sit at a table normally, she is too big for your shoulders now.” Sesshomaru said, disapprovingly.

Grabbing the child, Toga sighed and rolled his eyes at his oldest. He always has had a stick up his ass. Setting the giggling girl next to Inuaysha, who gave her his half eaten peach and winked at her, just as her own mother did to him. Watching the scene unfold before her, Izayoi smiled at her family, before announcing everyone to dig in. 

Breakfast was the normal affair, only one slap this time from Sango to an embarrassed Miroku. Kagura and Ayame chatted about babies, while Inuaysha, Koga and Sesshomaru glared at each other most the time. Sighing to himself, Toga beckoned the house nanny to take Rin to the gardens to play. As the child said her goodbyes to everyone, Toga decided it was time to get to business. In the meeting room, a long wooden table sat, surrounded by chairs. It was when everyone took their seats, they began.

“Naraku is spanning an attack soon.” Toga stated, concern in voice. “He was seen in our borders just two days ago. It is time to force our hand.”

“Are you sure?” A too quiet Kagura asked, absentmindedly rubbing her belly. Sesshomaru covered her hand with his own, before turning towards the King, “If you are certain, we need to protect the borders. There are innocent people, many refugees from the fall of the Eastern Kingdom.”

Surprised by his care towards his subjects, Inuyasha stood to walk over to map hanging along the wall. Hung between bookshelves that wrapped the room, he took a red pin and marked the wildflower meadow, his heart giving a painful thump as he knew it was the same area as he saw the unknown woman. “It was here, that I smelt his men, graveyard and death. The forest burned around the area Miroku, Sango and I were camped at.”

“It was maybe half a mile from the eastern border.” Sango agreed, coming next to stand to Inuyasha, pointing at the border line on the map. “That is a long way from the castle that Naraku resides in at the moment, so they must either be looking for something or taking hostages. We know of the horse hanyou in that area, with the village, but didn’t have time to look closer or check on him.”

Nodding his head, “We know that when he killed the king and queen, he was absorbing their powers. I sent a scout out along with the page boy to scout the area of the fire. He came back with news of a fox family burned to death.”

Gasps filled the silent room, Koga standing angrily, fists clenching, “So, now he’s after demons too? What is it he is looking for exactly?” 

“I don’t think it’s a something, it’s a someone.” Izayoi added quietly.

Eyes turned abruptly toward, waiting for an explanation. Toga sighed, before gesturing everyone to sit again. If his wife’s suspicions were correct, and she was hardly ever wrong, it was her, he was going come after. “Everyone remembers what happened that night, over twenty years ago, correct?” Seeing their nods, meeting Inuaysha’s gaze, “We have reason to believe he is after the lost princess. It was rumored that she would grow the be extremely powerful, she also was to be the one to bring peace again across the kingdoms, uniting us in more ways than one. No one ever found any clue that she survived or died that night and I believe Naraku is searching for her. He is trying to claim as much power as he can until he does find her, so he can destroy her as well.”

Murmuring to themselves, Miroku stood, “If she is still alive, she wouldn’t be much younger than Prince Inuaysha and I now. How has she been able to keep herself hidden all this time? Fairy powers are set to grow as the person gets older, their wings growing in time with powers. She must have some type of concealment charm, making it that much harder to find her.”

“I agree Miroku,” Toga stated, “That is why I haven’t been able to locate her. To be honest, the last time we saw her, she was a babe, I don’t know what she would look like with or without a concealment. The only way to find her would be other mythical creatures to identify her. Most have been hiding in the forest for safety. They don’t really talk to anyone, or venture out to the villages.”

“She would still have blue eyes.” A quiet rumble came from across the room, where Inuaysha had remained seated. Raising his eyes quickly, he caught his father’s smirk and blushed a little. 

“Either way, whether Naraku is after her or not, we still need some kind of plan for when he does cross our borders again.” Koga spoke, still angry about the fox family. His wolves could be next.

“I agree. What did you have in mind Father?” Sesshomaru asked, looking to his father.

“Here’s the plan….” Toga smirked widely, everyone coming closer to see what he had in mind.

Izayoi sighed, knowing her husband’s wild antics were only the just beginning.

Kagome and Shippo were just beginning their walk through the forest that day, having felt better this morning about traveling so much in such a short time. As they walked, she kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, occasionally seeing other creatures flitter about. A while ago, she saw two unicorn, white and pure, with long, beautiful manes, grazing about near a stream. She watched as small butterflies flittered through the air near a few patches of wildflowers, reminding her of home.

At one point, she could’ve swore she saw a pointed green hat, hiding in a bush along the worn pathway. Smiling to herself, she tuned in to listen to whatever story Shippo was wilding telling her, walking a few spaces ahead. Unknown to her, a man with a chilling smile, followed closely behind.

“And theeeennnn, this old man, who looked like a ghost, but also a monkey, rose outta a pickle barrel, thanking the group for saving him! He was the monkey god! His followers, the three monkey sprites, were so embarrassed about leaving the sacred rock in the forest, while they scoured for nuts and….” Shippo waved his hands about, when a snap of branches caused them to stop abruptly.

Grabbing Shippo and putting him on her right shoulder, Kagome turned around just in time to see a small tan pouch fly through the air, heading straight at them. As soon as it landed, a foot or so in front of her, smoke began to bellow out about, making Kagome’s eye water instantly. “Shippo, run!” She screamed loudly. 

Scurrying up a tree as fast as his little paws could, Shippo watched as Kagome fell to her knees, eyes shut tight, as her head hit the grassy path below. Unsure of what to do, Shippo backed into the tree branches, hiding from sight. Looking to his right, he saw the two unicorn they had seen previously, watching from afar. A small flittering creature stood on the female’s head. Looking back down to Kagome, he watched as a short, fat man with a covering across his face, lift her lifeless body over his shoulders and began to take back here they direction they came from. Jumping from the branch, Shippo took off towards the direction of the stream, tears beginning to fall down his face.

Kagome wasn’t sure what was going on. She couldn’t move her body. She was aware of everything around her, but couldn’t speak or try to run away from this man. I refuse to be taken she thought angrily, her temper rising. 

“You cannot escape Mukotsu’s potion.” The man spoke gleefully. “I will make you my bride this very evening.” A small abandoned hut came into her sight and he carried her inside, bolting the door behind him.

So his name is Mukotsu, similar to Bankotsu. I wonder if he is with Naraku’s men. Wait, did he say bride?! No way, that’s disgusting! Kagome began to seethe, slowly moving her fingers trying to get some type of motion. The man, Mukotsu, set her on her stomach and laid a white, almost yellowed, veil upon her head. He turned and dug through his bag, not catching Kagome struggle to move her hands.

“You are very beautiful, your eyes are a color I have never seen before. Bankotsu didn’t tell me you were this pretty, and a virgin, no doubt. I think I will keep you to myself for a few days before taking you to Naraku.” Mukotsu began to laugh, grabbing a candle to light. “But first, we shall perform the wedding ceremony, then I will take you. Do not worry,” He said, grabbing her chin, noticing the fear in her eyes, “I will be gentle. I am not my brother. You will be happy with me.”

What is up with these men and their long monologues and trying to own me? Kagome thought dryly, squeezing her fists, getting the feeling back in her hands. As Mukotsu busied himself with whatever it was he was doing, Kagome shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Kaede’s words came across her mind, “Close your eyes. Breath in and out. I want you to look into your heart and feel the tug on your soul, one that reaches down within you. That is your power.” As she began to tug on the pull, she could feel her skin growing hotter, like an internal flame expanding around her.

Opening her eyes, she saw the man move back with wide eyes and a glowing, pink vibrant barrier surrounding her. Smiling to herself, she laid there, making her barrier as strong as she could, watching the now silent man, as hoof steps came barreling toward the hut.  The man, now terrified, cowered in the corner as Shippo burst though the door, riding atop a female unicorn, with what looked like a tiny woman with wings flying next to him. 

No one said a word as another unicorn, slightly bigger than the female, trotted up behind the three and lowered his horn towards Mukotsu. “How can this be? You aren’t supposed to be able to break through my poison barrier?” Before he could finish answering his own question, the large golden horn stuck through Mukotsu’s gut, drawing the life from his body. Kagome watched with wide eyes, but wasn’t frightened. These animals were good souls and had just saved her. The male withdrew his horn, picked up the now dead man by his collar and drug the lifeless body outside. Where, she couldn’t say, but she never saw the man again.

“‘Gome! Are you okay?” Shippo asked, jumping off his unicorn’s back, walking slowly toward Kagome’s barrier.

“Child, you can let your it down, it is okay. We will not harm you.” A soft, gentle voice came from above her. The little winged woman was flying right near her head, outside the barrier. Closing her eyes again, Kagome wasn’t sure exactly how to let the barrier down, hell, she wasn’t sure exactly how she did it in the first place. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the barrier inside of her, exhaling loudly, as Shippo rushed to hug her.  As more feeling in her neck returned, she turned her head into Shippo’s body and smiled.

“Young one, she’s been poisoned,” the tiny woman told Shippo, “We need to get some water. Althea here has healing powers in her tears. Argus will take you the stream, hurry back.” The flying woman instructed and he crawled atop the male unicorn and hung on tight, one hand carrying a bottle.

Althea, she guessed, lowered her body near Kagome, and began to sniffle around her ears, making Kagome giggle to herself. The woman set herself down on the floor in sight of Kagome’s vision and began to speak, “You are her, the lost one. We watched you as you began your journey this morning, following you along the way to make sure you were safe. Do not worry my child, whenever your friend returns, we will help you drink the healing tears to rid your body the rest of the poison. You can already begin to move, can’t you?”

Nodding, the little woman laughed, clapping her hands together, “You have marvelous healing powers inside of you, so his poison wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, but you were still strong enough for a barrier. You are more powerful than you realize.”

“Shippo….doesn’t…..know.” Kagome managed to ground out, her voice hoarse.

“Shhh child, we figured. We only allowed him to see us, once we realized you were in danger. You were very brave to send him away when you did. He only knows of us, but we will see to it he promises to keep our secret. You can see that he has a good soul.”

Kagome nodded, swallowing as best she could, as Shippo and Argus? she thought, came back into the hut. Shippo rushed over with the bottle and the little woman instructed him to hold the bottle near Althea’s eye. Three tears fell into the bottle, and Shippo helped lift it to Kagome’s lips to help her drink. Within seconds, Kagome smiled, She felt so much better already and could stretch! Slowly sitting up, she looked at Althea and nodded her thanks. In return, Althea, laid her head in Kagome’s lap. “What’s your name?” Kagome asked the little woman.

“Calliope. You must be Kagome Aureila.” Her voice becoming more excited.

Laughing softly, “I think you’re the first person to say my middle name so excitedly.”

“It is a beautiful name, your Mother Kaede knew of your beauty. It means golden one, which I feel is befitting for you.”

Blushing a little bit, Kagome played with Althea’s mane, as Shippo sat quietly beside her. Argus stood at the doorway, facing out, as if watching the area around him. “Are you a fairy?” Shippo asked, almost silently, his eyes betraying his awe.

“Yes, young one.” Calliope laughed, almost like bells. “We allowed you to see us to help your friend here. She is special.”

“She is! She’s my friend. My name is Shippo!” He told her excitedly.

Laughing together, Kagome turned towards Calliope. “We must be going soon, we need to get to the castle, but I am so incredibly thankful you saved me. That man, he was one of Naraku’s men. I didn’t know he was following me.” She admitted sheepishly.

“Kagome, just like the gnomes told us, we are here to protect you and help you. If you should ever need, call on us. You need some rest, today has been an eventful day for all of us. It is near sundown already. We will stay with you until you set out again tomorrow.”

Smiling at her, Kagome grabbed her knapsack, knowing Shippo probably grabbed it earlier, and began to get ready for the nightfall. Sometime later, as they lay on the worn out futon, Kagome held Shippo tight against her, gazing into the eyes of Althea, before shutting them completely, falling into a deep sleep.

“It is her.” Calliope whispered, stroking Argus’ ear at the doorway. “I just hope she knows what awaits her. We must help her in every way we can dear Argus. Tomorrow, I will tell my mother of her, how she hides and where she will go. Let us hope King Toga can protect her too, though I think after today, Kagome is beginning to recognize her own. She will be a great leader.”

Leaning his head toward her tiny hands, Argus snuffled in agreement. He remembered the fallen king and queen, how they were always so gentle with his kind. He would protect this new one at all costs.

[jay-me-says]

Things Were Different Back Then

CHAPTER ONE: The Protagonist Returns

Masterpost w/ more info on the fic | Note: all SBI-related relationships here are platonic!

Tubbo fidgets with the buttons on his suit jacket, the shiny gold a pretty contrast to the forest green fabric. The notion seems utterly laughable to him, but he’s nervous to see Tommy.

It’s been a while since the blond was last in L’manburg. A few weeks after Tubbo became president, Tommy had left. “I just need to clear my head for a while. I’ll be back,” he had said. Nearly a month had passed with no Tommy and no word from him. Until a few days ago, when Tubbo had received a message via carrier parrot. It was from Tommy, saying he was okay and would be home in a few days.

Tubbo had felt happy at first, but now he was nervous out of his mind. The past few days had been spent making preparations for Tommy’s return. Everyone wanted to make his homecoming special, so the whole nation had pitched in to decorate and prep food to welcome Tommy back with a feast. The entire time he was helping prep, Tubbo had felt like a blob. A wobbly, wiggly version of himself that had no solid shape and was made only of nerves and worry.

He was terrified that something might go wrong, or that he hadn’t done enough to welcome his dear friend back home. Even with the entire nation covered in banners and candles and lanterns, Tubbo kept wondering what else he could do. He’d even been tempted to temporarily lift the ban on explosives to allow fireworks, but in the end decided it wouldn’t look good for a president to go around breaking his own laws.

Presently, Tubbo is standing about ten feet from the gates of L’manburg. One of the first things the country had done after the revolution against Schlatt (after tearing down and replacing the hideous obsidian flag of Manburg) was build a wall around their territory to prevent attackers from waltzing in freely. Along with that project had come a large gate. It was made of spruce wood and opened with a pulley on either side, requiring two people to lift it.

Watchtowers dot the wall, where people often take turns scanning the terrain beyond. Mainly, they watch for invaders from the Dream SMP. In the short time Tubbo has been president, there hasn’t been much activity. Just a scout every now and again. They keep watch anyways, on edge after a history full of war. Fundy is sitting in one of the towers closest to the gate, keeping an eye out for Tommy. Eret and Puffy each stand by one of the pulleys, talking. Everyone else mills around, staying close to the gate while talking to one another.

The air in the nation has been filling up with anticipation since Tubbo made the announcement about Tommy’s return. It feels like electricity, energizing the clusters of people, making them more alert. Every slight noise from outside the gate turns heads.

Tubbo, zoned out while worrying his mind and his button, doesn’t notice Niki approach. When she places her hand on the president’s shoulder, he startles, drawing in a sharp breath and snapping his head to look at her. Seeing that it’s just his fellow council member, the tension drops from his shoulders and he slowly exhales. After the Second Revolution, Tubbo had decided to alter the way L’manburg’s executive branch ran. Instead of a single president, he wanted there to be multiple leaders. Soon after the coup, before Tommy left, there was an election that voted himself, Niki, and Tommy in. Fundy has been acting as a stand-in for Tommy since he left.

Niki’s brow is creased slightly in concern. “Are you alright, Tubbo? You look nervous.”

He doesn’t try to hide it. “I am, Niki. I really am. It’s just,” he pauses for a moment and sighs, “it’s been so long since I’ve seen him. What if he’s changed a lot- what if I've changed- and we don’t get along?” Tubbo keeps fidgeting with his button, eyes locked on Niki’s.

Niki uses her hand on Tubbo’s shoulder to gently turn him to face her fully. She puts her free hand on his other shoulder and squeezes. Tubbo catches the sparkle of her promise ring to Puffy in his peripheral vision. “I can understand your worry, Tubbo, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Even if he has changed, you’re Tommy and Tubbo, L’manburg’s favorite dream duo. You’ll work it out, I’m sure of it.”

The way Niki’s gaze locks onto Tubbo comforts him. She looks so certain. Like she’s telling Tubbo that the sky is blue. It settles him some, but he still grips the button on his jacket. His fingers have stilled, though.

“Thank you, Niki.”

“Anytime, Tubbo.”

Right as Niki finishes speaking, Fundy hollers from his tower. They both glance over as he yells, “Tommy’s back!”

Tubbo looks back to Niki, eyes wide with excitement. The other council member is grinning. She squeezes his shoulders again, then gives him a soft shove towards the gate. “Go! Go meet him!”

Nerves temporarily forgotten, the brunette takes off. The built-up electricity crackles through the air and into his body, making his limbs lighter. In that moment, Tubbo is sure that he has never run faster.

Eret and Puffy have started pulling up the gate and Fundy is scrambling down from the tower, rushing to join the crowd that has gathered a few feet away from the wooden bars. They are packed in tightly, already calling hellos to Tommy. When they notice Tubbo, though, they move and let him barrel through.

When he gets to the front of the crowd, stumbling to a stop, Tubbo’s eyes finally land on Tommy. His hair is ruffled and he’s smiling, eyes lit up as he scans over the crowd of his friends. When his gaze falls on Tubbo, he grins even wider. At the same moment, they take off running.

Now, Tubbo is sure, he’s never run faster. The boys nearly bowl each other over as they crash into a hug. They grip each other tightly. An observer would swear they’d never let go.

Relief and affection pools up inside of Tubbo, filling him to the brim and making him feel warm. Tommy is safe. Tommy is here, in L’manburg, in his arms. No more wondering where he is or if he’s okay.

“I missed you so much,” Tommy breathes, the hint of a laugh tangled in his syllables.

Tubbo sinks deeper into the hug. “I missed you, too. I’m so glad you’re back.” He grips the other boy tighter, if possible.

Their words are muffled, faces buried in each other’s shoulders. Tubbo could stay like this for hours and not mind.

But they do break apart. Tubbo tries not to feel a little sad and grins up at the taller boy, who grins back. He’s not sure he would ever admit this out loud, but Tubbo had missed those bright blue eyes of Tommy’s.

The taller boy grabs Tubbo’s right hand in his own and squeezes. The look he gives him sinks into the brunette’s soul, conveying words he hasn’t said aloud. We'll finish this later.

Tubbo nods and gently lets his friend’s hand go. As he walks away, it feels like something is missing. Like Tubbo has taken his hands off a warm mug and the cold is seeping into his skin. He can practically hear Tommy saying, “Clingy bitch.”

Tommy is greeted like a hero returning from slaying some vexatious beast. The crowd jumps on him, each person gripping him close in turn and welcoming him home.

As Quackity is greeted with a yell of “Big Q!” Tubbo finally notices the dog. Really, he’s unsure how he missed it in the first place. It’s about as large as a small bench and fluffy beyond belief, with fur the same color as the quartz blocks that make up the Prime church. Tubbo’s heart melts a little when he sees the familiar green bandana tied around the dog’s neck.

The dog barks in excitement, running around, picking up the crowd’s energy. Many L’manburgians are already dishing out pets. It’s a challenge, though. The dog only stays still for a few seconds before running more laps around the group.

Tubbo also notices the parrot, then, flapping around nearby Tommy’s head. It’s mostly green with just a little smudge of a lemony yellow on its forehead and wings. It’s the same parrot that delivered Tommy’s message. Tubbo had sent the bird back to Tommy afterwards, bearing a response letter and a little pouch with a few cookies made by Niki.

The light, energetic feeling vanishes from Tubbo’s limbs when he sees Tommy stood in front of Wilbur. The tall brunette looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot and picking at the hem of his gray sweater. For a few seconds, they do nothing but stand across from each other, staring. The scene sucks the electricity out of the air, hoarding it all and turning the pair into a greedy storm cloud.

Finally, Tommy reaches out a tentative hand. Wilbur glances between the hand and Tommy’s face, then carefully takes it. They shake and Tommy moves on quickly, finishing his greetings. The stolen electricity slowly leaks back into the atmosphere.

The group had moved outside of the wall earlier, following Tubbo after he booked it out to meet Tommy. Now, they lead the blond into L’manburg, towards the spruce platforms where the podium once stood. A long table has been set up and covered in food and dishware. Tubbo snags a seat next to Tommy and lets himself get swept away in the energy of the group. They loudly tell stories, taking turns updating Tommy on what’s happened since he left and listening as the blond regales them with tales from his time away. Being around everyone like this, eating together and talking about anything and everything, warms Tubbo’s heart. He feels happy. By the time the sun sets, his cheeks are aching from so much smiling.

The L’manburgians stay at the table well into the night, orange light cast from lanterns keeping the mobs at bay. But as the moon traces a path through the sky, the group slowly thins out and people return to their homes for the night. Eventually, there are only a few people left at the table.

After Quackity leaves, clapping his hand on Tommy’s shoulder when he walks by, the blond nudges Tubbo to get his attention. “Do you want to head back up to your house? I’m pretty tired.”

Tubbo agrees and the two say their goodbyes, leaving Eret, Philza, and Fundy as the final three at the table. Tubbo privately wonders where Wilbur has gone, figuring he would’ve stayed with his father and son, but thinks better than to ask. It seems like a charged question, and he’d rather not ruin the mood.

As Tubbo and Tommy make the short walk home, the dog and the parrot trailing along behind them, there isn’t a single quiet moment. They chatter back and forth about everything and nothing. Tubbo once again feels warm. He’s missed this, all of it. Everything that he couldn’t do with Tommy while he was gone.

When they reach his house, Tubbo opens the door and gestures for Tommy to go in first. The dog follows, parrot sitting atop his fluffy head, then Tubbo enters. Tommy, of course, has his own home in L’manburg to stay in. He was around long enough after the revolution against Schlatt to build one. But they had decided via carrier parrot that he would stay with Tubbo for a few days, giving the pair time to catch up and see each other more.

While Tommy gets settled in the guest room, Tubbo sits in a wooden chair near the bed and they keep talking. Tubbo never seems to run out of words with Tommy around.

“So, what’s up with the dog?” Tubbo inquires as the great, fluffy wolf sits in front of him. It places a large paw on his lap, so Tubbo scratches its head.

Tommy flits between his bag and the wardrobe, putting away his armor and spare clothes. “That’s Walter. I had set up camp for a bit in some woods and he came to check it out. I gave him some steaks and when I went to leave, he followed. He’s been with me for about half the time I’ve been away, I think.”

“He’s massive.”

Tommy cracks a smile. “Seriously. A child could use him as a pony.”

Still petting the dog, Tubbo turns his gaze to the parrot sitting on the headrest of the bed. He makes a mental note to bring Tommy some things for it tomorrow. “Did you name the parrot?”

“Yeah, Henry II. What’s up with the parrots anyways?” He pauses in putting away his things and looks at Tubbo, brow creased in confusion.

“It was Ponk’s idea. He figured it would be nice to have a way to send messages, so he’s been training up parrots. He runs a little mail building where most of them are kept. Got built a week or so after you left.”

“Has it actually been helpful?” An edge of doubt creeps into Tommy’s voice, but he seems rather curious.

“I mean, it was helpful to get some warning before you got back, so we could prepare to give you a big welcoming. Besides that, it has been pretty convenient. I’ve been using the system to send people notes. It’s sort of nice to not have to go to peoples’ houses to communicate with them.”

Tommy hums in response as he resumes putting away his things. As he finishes, shutting the wardrobe, he says, “That was really nice, by the way. Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course we did. We all wanted to. Although, the decorations were mostly Wilbur. Man barely stopped working on them since we got word you were coming.”

Tubbo realizes too late that he probably shouldn’t have brought up Wilbur, especially after how tense Tommy had been back at the gate with him. Kicking himself, he hurries on, “By the way, Tommy, you’re still invited to take back your council seat. I’m sure Fundy will be thrilled to be relieved of his post. He’s been working really hard, but he doesn’t enjoy it all that much.”

Tommy pushes the tip of his shoe into the floor and glances off to the side. “Er, yeah, about that, do you think he could stay on just a little while longer? I- I don’t know if I’m feeling up for that yet. Everything is so different, and I just need some time to adjust if…if that’s alright.” He looks at Tubbo again on the last sentence. Tubbo is a little surprised but understands. “I’m sure you could ask him about it. I was planning to show you around tomorrow anyway, so we could stop by his and Phil’s and Wilbur’s house and speak with him. We could invite Niki along, as well.”

If asked, Tubbo would say he wants to invite Niki because she’s also on the council, and conversations about the council should involve her. And that is partly true, but he also wants another buffer in case they end up talking to Wilbur.

Tubbo tries to start up the conversation properly again, but it’s not quite the same. Tommy still seems somewhat tense, and sort of withdrawn. The brunette wishes he hadn’t brought up Wilbur like that. The comment had turned the air thick- it almost felt hard to breathe.

When he thinks he might suffocate by staying in the room any longer, Tubbo says goodnight, wanting out before his tongue can dig him a deeper hole. “I’m just down the hall if you need me,” he adds as he gets up from the chair.

Before he can leave, Tommy crosses the room and grabs his friend’s arm, tugging him into a hug. Tubbo squeezes back, again glad that the boy is in L’manburg and within his reach once more. A small smile tugs at his features.

“I really did miss you, Tubbo. Thank you for the party,” Tommy murmurs against Tubbo’s shoulder.

“Of course, Tommy. We were glad to do it.”

The boys break apart and say a final goodnight before Tubbo goes to his room. As he gets ready for bed, he thinks about how Tommy is acting about Wilbur; he sort of shut down after the mention of him. It worries the brunette, but he tries to brush it off. Surely, it’ll be fine in a few days. Tommy just needs to get used to being back and sort things out with his brother.

‘

You can also read this on Ao3! | Next Chapter Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed! <3

[unicyclehippo]

hey! if you're still taking prompts, maybe you could write something about ellie and dina on a scouting mission and in one of the houses they come across an old playstation, and when they get back to jackson they set it up and play it on one of their days off? basically something similar to a scene in uncharted 4, except its filled with soft, gay competitive banter

‘it’ll be written down in the histories of our people!’ jesse announces, bouncing up onto the overturned barrel and spinning to face them, arms outstretched, raised like he’s preaching to them. ‘on this day, on this very day, two of our own—ellie and dina—singlehandedly -‘

‘we’ve got four between us, actually,’ dina heckles from her place at the edge of the encroaching crowd.

‘ - brought to us a machine! a great machine! one that recalls the hallowed days of old wherein children could play inside for hours on end and not have to work!’

‘come off it, jesse, kids have always been put into terrifying situations in which their very lives are at constant risk.’ max grins at the low murmur of laughter that brings. ‘next you’re gonna tell us that they didn’t have to hunt for their own food.’

‘okay, i genuinely am not clear on how much you know about the before time,’ jesse tells him, the grandeur dropping from his voice. ‘but ellie and dina—‘

‘dina and ellie,’ dina calls. ‘it’s alphabetical.’

ellie, lured by the worry of what havoc even a small crowd can do riled up, takes her place at dina’s side, shakes her head. ‘it sounds wrong.’

‘you’re just saying that because your name comes first usually. you don’t want me to come first.’

‘i think i’m usually pretty good about that, actually,’ ellie mutters. a tiny grin flickers over her lips and then is gone. ‘what’s jesse doing?’

‘brief history lesson and also trying to get our names recorded in some book of historical excellence or something. maybe electing us as gods? not sure.’

‘gods, huh? hey, jesse!’ ellie waves to get his attention and her friend waves, hops off his claimed pedestal to join them.

‘well well, if it isn’t the two most adored hunters in town,’

‘adoration is fleeting business, yada yada, anyway, shouldn’t we maybe see if the thing actually hooks up to the generator before we start making any promises?’

‘sure,’ jesse allows, and he flips his hair back off his face, sends a beaming smile down at them. ‘but when it does—and it will, if there’s any kindness in this universe -‘

‘debatable.’

‘absolutely not.’ ellie places a hand over dina’s mouth, points a warning finger at jesse. ‘you promised no philosophy if i was in earshot, you promised.’

he relents, hands raised in surrender. ‘anyway, when it works, i will be giving you some kind of award.’

‘do you even have any authority at all?’

‘i’m thinking...knighthood?’ he muses. ‘presidents?’

‘gods?’ dina suggests, still muffled behind the hand she hasn’t bothered to dislodge. ellie drops her hand. ‘or angels. captains. queens.’

ellie leaves them to it and makes her way toward the hall.

//

‘hey! ellie-girl! just about ready to turn this bad boy on!’ tommy is on his hands and knees surrounded by a box of wires that have been upended on the floor. scavenged scrap material mostly but by the looks of things, they’ve managed to piece meal all the connections they need to get the television hooked up to this gaming thing. ‘glad you’re here, i really think you’re gonna like this.’

there’s a buzz in the air, as much from the generator as it is from the excitement of the other people here, some helping, most just watching and pretending to be doing something else like pouring coffee or looking for a place to hang an empty picture frame.

tommy ignores them all and scrambles up—pauses to rub at his knees and grumble—and makes his way to the couch where a small device sits. he taps a few buttons and grins when it lights up. without a moments hesitation, he holds it out to ellie.

‘what?’

‘take it. you found it, you should get to play first.’

‘me? i don’t know how—‘

‘it’s easy,’ he laughs her denial away. ‘and i’ll teah you.’ he presses it into her hand, and ellie knows she sees his fingers linger on the controller. ‘press that button—it’ll boot it up.’

‘i’ve got two boots-‘

tommy closes his eyes. breathes out long and slow. when he opens his eyes again, it is to see a very pleased smile on ellie’s face. ‘you and joel,’ he grumbles. ‘you’re not funny.’

‘i am. he’s not.’

‘no. neither of you are. just - just push the damn button, okay?’

ellie shrugs. pushes the button.

the television screen blinks on with a symbol she doesn’t recognise and the chirping sound of something activating. tommy guides her to a colourful box with a strange little orange creature and the description he gives makes no sense at all. a running game? collecting fruit? tropical island?

‘this sounds stupid.’

‘maybe. addictive though. i bet you can’t beat the first level.’

ellie frowns at the screen. the glare slides across to the man she considers to be her uncle and she finds him watching her, brows raised, a sly grin identical to when joel knew she was going to embarrass herself. like when he called her over so she slipped on ice that one time, ellie recalls.

‘that’s a trap,’ dina says, dropping into the space next to her. she brings her feet up under her, knee digging comfortably into ellie’s side. ‘he’s goading you.’

‘i’m aware.’

‘what are the terms?’

‘no terms,’ tommy shrugs. ‘i just think she oughta play a bit before she dismisses the whole thing. can’t say for sure it’s stupid until you see for yourself, right?’

//

the game is most definitely stupid. it’s the second week in a row that ellie has snuck into the hall to use her free hour on the device, and the stupid sounds the creature makes and the stupid incessant music is haunting her in her dreams.

‘you’re really very bad at this game.’

ellie sighs. hangs her head. pausing the game, she turns to watch her girlfriend step in from the kitchens and make her way over, leaning over the back of the couch. the television lights up her face and the light only makes the amused gleam in her eyes seem brighter.

‘it’s funny, you know, because you’re very good at everything else.’ she cocks her head to the side, nods slowly like she’s figured something out. ‘yes. i’m more attracted to you now.’

ellie can’t help but laugh. ‘more attracted because i’m bad at it, or because you’re better at something? see, i think it’s the second one.’

‘yeah. don’t know what it is.’

‘you’re a narcissist, maybe?’

‘you say the sweetest things.’ dina steps around the couch to sit at the opposite end. she sets her feet in ellie’s lap immediately, ellie bringing her free hand down over dina’s shins. it’s ingrained in her now, to be close to dina, to touch dina in these small ways. it’s just nice.

‘that wasn’t meant to be sweet.’

‘mm, but you mentioned me and i love me.’

‘narcissist.’

‘grouch.’ dina’s laid out lazy and comfortable, chin dimpling as she squishes her face down to grin over at ellie.

‘beautiful.’

‘flatterer.’ she nudges ellie with her foot, nods to the screen. ‘play the game.’

‘i’m bad at it.’

‘i know, i want to make fun of you. think of it like...the game is your entertainment, bullying you is mine.’

ellie laughs. turning her attention to the screen, the laughter fades to a simple expansive warmth in her chest and she chuckles again. ‘this is the hardest level yet,’ she warns. ‘you’d better have some good mockery saved up, i’m going to die a lot.’

‘i’m sure i can think of something.’

[gem-quest]

[ QUEST 04. — I N F E R N A ]

taglist: @bebemoon​ @now-on-elissastillstands​ @armadasneon​ @mysteriousdeathofpoe​

[ A . MIDWINTER’S . NIGHT . DREAM . LEVEL . 20 ]

Inferna was with Neddy, throwing sugar cubes covered in Inferna Sauce at Jack (who had been shrunken down with a Drink Me potion), when the announcement scrolled across the sky.

<<< YOU HAVE 24 HOURS. SURVIVE TO ADVANCE. >>>

“What the fuck is that all about?” Inferna asked, pointing upwards. Neddy paused and looked up as well.

The two of them had originally gone to Level 20, A Midwinter’s Night Dream, to play with Jack in the snow-covered gardens in front of the palace (the maze was behind the palace, and those stupid fucking bitch ass snow angels flying around that place could all go eat a dick. Inferna was so tired of being pelted with snowballs as soon as she got within a ten-foot radius of them. And it was all because she wasn’t a Moonstone player!!).

The pale winter sun gleamed against the pristine snow of the level as she and Neddy started making their way towards the maze to investigate. A large, chattering crowd had formed around the entrance, blocking their view, and Inferna grabbed Neddy’s hand, waiting for her to settle a shrunken-down Jack into his basket before she viciously elbowed her way to the front, until she could see what all the fuss was about.

A sleek metal half-dome had materialized into existence. The harsh steel was a stark contrast against the delicate statues and glittering fountains lining the edges of the maze.

Inferna narrowed her eyes as she took in the scene. Items had begun shimmering into existence, beneath the dome - there were some miscellaneous food stuffs (were those the apple turnovers from the Tearoom that Inferna liked so much????), medi-elixirs, oh and was that silver dust? And even an ignitium potion? - and some players were dashing forward to snatch them up before other people could get to them. Inferna was inclined to join in (free stuff was always good. Especially free food. Those turnovers were hers!), but she held back, and turned her gaze in the direction of where 90% of the players were looking.

“What the hell?” she said, glancing over at her friend. “What are those Bigfoot-lookin’ things?”

“Abominable snowmen?” Neddy suggested, shrugging her shoulders. 

Inferna frowned. She was spared from replying by a ding! from her player-plexus, indicating a new notification. All around her, other player-plexuses were dinging as well, and Inferna quickly pulled her own out to see what this was all about.

“Yeti stats…” she muttered under her breath, quickly skimming over the message that’d popped up on her screen:

YETI STATS 

STRENGTH: 7 DEFENCE: 7 CHARISMA: 1 PSYCHE: 3 WILLPOWER: 5 CAUTIOUSNESS: 2 AGILITY: 4 ENDURANCE: 10 INTELLIGENCE: 5 LUCK: -

She looked up, and squinted. “So they’re Yetis, then,” she said to Neddy. Her player-plexus pinged again, and Inferna swiped open one of her Obsidian group chats.

Anyone in 20 rn? I heard it’s going into lockdown until tomorrow

Another ding. 

Oh dang yeah, i just tried to ictuium in, and no luck. Dont think ictuium-ing out will work either

Inferna sighed, and showed Neddy the messages. “I guess we’re shit out of luck, then,” she mused, watching the Yetis slowly get closer. “What is G doing, ripping off Fortnite? Well, I guess it’d be more like a Hunger Games rip-off, because Fortnite is just Hunger Games with guns.”

She squinted. The half-dome with randomly appearing items must have been like the Cornucopia, then. Fair enough. And the Yetis were...Yetis. 

It’s really damn annoying that the only thing we got were the stats. Nothing about what they can actually do. 

A shout rang out, from somewhere to their right. Inferna turned her head just in time to see a huge blast of icy magic slam into the roof of the palace behind them. The tiles cracked, and began tumbling downwards.

“Fucking shit!” Inferna swore. “If we make it out of this alive, I’m going to need more fake magical potion vodka from Morningstar. And, you know, just more college frat party alcohol in general. This is bull!”

Inferna ducked and began to run, pretty sure that she did not want to be buried under a pile of rubble. When she figured that she was a safe enough distance away, she stood up, scanning the crowd for Neddy’s familiar lilac hair, but her friend was nowhere in sight. 

Inferna frowned, and as she ran in the opposite direction of the Yetis, she quickly tapped out a message to Neddy: hey lmk if u want to meet back up - think i lost u just now.

After she’d retreated to the very edge of the level, a ways into the snowy forest that surrounded the palace and maze, Inferna let herself slow down and catch her breath. She leaned against the barrier of the level, which was a transparent Plexiglass-ish kind of thing that let players look out through it into the rest of the woods, but didn’t let them pass through. It shimmered with some kind of energy - magical, maybe? - where Inferna’s body made contact with it, but otherwise, it felt like a normal invisible wall.

You know. Because once you’d been inside the game for long enough, this kind of shit was the norm.

Inferna wasn’t sure that she wanted to stay in this specific spot for too long; although the Yetis weren’t supposed to be all that intelligent, she would bet her right hand that G had programmed them to traverse the entire level. Inferna wasn’t entirely certain how she would fare, against one of them - on the one hand, her own strength and defense stats were higher than those of the Yetis, meaning that she’d probably have a pretty decent chance fighting one of them head-on (especially with her added advantage of being, you know, basically the Gem Quest equivalent of a fire bender), but the Yetis had higher endurance stats than her. And, given that she was fire and they were ice, if the Yetis managed to land a blow on her, Inferna would probably be in trouble.

With that thought in mind, Inferna dragged an ignitium potion out from her inventory. If one of them did try to target her, Inferna would hit them back with the breathe-fire-from-your-mouth potion, like Uncle Iroh in ATLA. Because that guy was #goals.

Once she’d wolfed down a raspberry tartlet (fliched from the Tearoom) and taken a pull from the handle of fake magical potion vodka (okay, so it wasn’t actually a handle - just a standard large-sized potion bottle) Morningstar had given her, which tasted just like the shit Inferna knocked back with her friends in real life but was somehow made from ingredients within the game, Inferna set off again. This kind of stupid event was best done drunk, high, or both, in Inferna’s opinion. Since she didn’t actually want to get herself killed, she was just going to settle on tipsy.

(Besides. Was it just her, or did her fire-mage powers seem stronger when she was inebriated? Weird, but she’d always take an excuse to get drunk.)

The first Yeti she encountered happened to be barreling across her path in pursuit of some other player, narrowly avoiding the invisible wall. Said other player was probably smarter than Inferna and quickly disappeared into the nearby shrubbery, their dark hair and clothing providing ample cover among the trees, but Inferna was a dumbass and had chosen this exact week to pull out an H-rank cosmetic potion and dye her hair bright orange. Bright glittery orange. So the Yeti, upon turning around, immediately caught sight of her and began lumbering her way.

“Fuck this shit,” Inferna muttered under her breath, downing the ignitium potion all at once. She waited a moment for the effects to set in - and for the Yeti to get close enough - and then sprang forward.

Flames leapt out of her mouth, curling and crackling and rippling with heat, and when she noticed other Yetis coming closer, Inferna spun in a wide circle like that legendary scene of Uncle Iroh in Ba Sing Se. The Yetis, temporarily stunned, fell back with a series of angry roars, formerly-white fur now a charred black. Inferna took that as her cue to get the fuck out of there, and - after shouting a completely, totally, stupidly unnecessary “see ya later, motherfuckers!” - she zipped off into the forest, taking advantage of all the speed and agility bequeathed upon her for picking the rogue class when she first started the game.

Inferna paused to catch her breath once she’d reached the edge of the forest, stopping just behind the end of the treeline. She checked the time - it’d only been an hour - and groaned. 

“This is so stupid,” she said out loud, to the random tree on her right. “I just want to go back to the Tearoom or something and get more food. What kind of lame-ass food is there in this level, anyway? Fucking snow angel food, that’s what. Fuck those guys.”

Inferna looked around her. There was a handy-handy rock a few feet away, so she trotted over, brushed off the snow, and sat down, propping her chin up with her hand to very angrily glare at a patch of snow-dusted grass, because she wanted some pastries, dammit, but stupid fucking G and his stupid fucking devs decided to make a stupid fucking event in the coldest, stupidest level of the entire game. 

Inferna was still angrily contemplating a blade of grass when the sound of someone approaching made her look up. She had one of her flaming daggers out in an instant, just in case whoever it was wanted to try some funny business.

However, once the figure got closer, Inferna lowered the dagger. She grinned, eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Ace!” she called out, waving. 

The brunette turned, caught sight of Inferna and her glittery orange hair, and started in her direction.

“Vicky, what the hell!” she exclaimed, lightly punching her arm. “It’s been ages.”

“No kidding,” Inferna replied, still grinning from ear-to-ear. “How’ve you been? I thought you went back out.”

Ace (well, Ace of Angels technically, but Inferna didn’t care enough to call her by her full screen name, and AOA was already the kpop group. And the other Obsidian player didn’t like being called ‘Gertrude’...Inferna couldn’t blame her) shrugged, the motion jostling her scary black wings. “I took the week off, to come back in. I’ve got a good amount of relinquium potions left, so might as well try to make use of them for the Plexipedia.”

“What’s happening with the Plexipedia?” asked Inferna. “Am I still IP banned from it?”

Ace snorted. “You tried to replace the screenshots of every NPC you didn’t like with gifs of Dr. Doofenshmirtz. Among other things that I won’t even mention, right now. Yes, you’re still IP banned.”

Inferna made a face. “Jerk. Can’t even do little ol’ me a favor and use your mighty admin powers to unban me?”

Ace just rolled her eyes, and ignored her question. “What’s happening with the Plexipedia is that we’re compiling a list of players that are still trapped in here. And, on the DL, tallying up how many relinquium potions are left. Did you see? They jumped from B-rank to S-rank in, like, two months’ time. I didn’t even know that items could jump ranks.”

“G must’ve done something,” Inferna mused. “Dammit, G, controlling the economy like that. What a fucking communist.”

Ace gave Inferna an inscrutable look, her hazel eyes gleaming with something Inferna couldn’t quite place. “He’s a murderer, Vicky, that’s what he is. Don’t you know how many people have already died?”

Inferna was quiet, for a moment. “The rumors are true, then? I heard about how we couldn’t bribe Jackie anymore, and the relinquium potions. But I wasn’t sure about the, you know. Dying.”

Ace nodded. “You remember Cheshire? She was in our party, but only for like two days.”

Inferna’s mouth went dry. “She…?”

Ace’s solemn look was all the answer Inferna needed.

Inferna sat back down on her rock, heavily. “Shit,” she said, “I thought it was all just BS that people were making up to fuck with other people. I mean, I knew about the potions, but I didn’t think G would actually…”

“That’s why I come back in-game when I can get off from work. Nobody really knows anything, I think.”

Inferna was quiet for another minute. Then, she gave Ace a suspicious glance. “Is there a Plexipedia page for me, too?”

Ace laughed out loud. “Oh, boy,” she said, amused. “Yes. Yes there is. We had to clean a lot of it up - it was basically just Angie roasting the shit out of you for a hot sec. She’s never gonna let you live down the fact that you tried to make spicy Doritos out of an Everlasting Flame and some bread, you know. Or that time you tried to smoke that powder from the Descend out of a bong you made from an empty potion bottle. Or the time you tried to make a Vine reference to Finvarra in Level 10. I could go on.”

Inferna scowled and jumped to her feet, indignant. “Fuck her! Just because Lisa’s my bias instead of Rosé doesn’t mean she gets to fucking harass me like that. I mean, I never said Rosé was bad; I’m a goddamn Blink too! When you go back out, you tell her to fuck right on off, you hear me????”

Ace smiled wryly. “Alright. Jeez, chill out. It’s not like you don’t give Angie shit, either,” she pointed out. 

Ace’s player-plexus pinged, and Inferna stayed quiet, letting her check her messages.

When Ace next looked up, she was frowning. “I’m going to head out. Elaine’s with me - she found one of the leads we’d been following.” She paused, and glanced up at the sky. “I guess we’ll be stuck in here until tomorrow at 12, huh? But we’re usually pretty busy, so I’m sorry we can’t stop and chat with you.”

It took Inferna a moment to remember who Elaine was. “You mean the girl who tried to make me a Reveluv?”

Ace nodded. “Yep, she’s Drakla on here. And speaking of Red Velvet, they have a new comeback, by the way. It’s a red one.”

Inferna grimaced. “Aw. I like their velvet side better, but I’ll always stan anything they do.” 

Just then, a thought occurred to her. Inferna hesitated, but said, “Hey, Ace - tell my parents I’m alright, okay? When you get back out.”

Ace nodded, again. “Sure. You want me to email them, or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that works. You’ve got your headset on record mode, right? My mom’s email is Jenny-underscore-Chang-underscore-65, at yahoo.com. Just...just tell them, you know, that I’m fine.”

Ace gave her a small smile. “I can do that,” she said, her wings shifting as she prepared to take flight - presumably, to find Drakla/Elaine. “Do you just want a potion? To leave?”

Inferna shook her head. “No, give it to someone who actually needs it.” And someone who actually wants it. Inferna knew she’d have to go and confront her real life at some point - AKA applying for jobs in an industry she didn’t give two shits about, and sleeping through boring lectures about Ruby or C++ or whatever, and spending all her free time debugging her stupid fucking code - but right now, she just wanted to have fun while she still could.

“Sure thing. Don’t die, okay? We’re all still waiting on you to go to a Blackpink concert with us. Their Kill This Love World Tour stages have looked awesome, from what I’ve seen on YouTube.”

Inferna gave Ace a two-fingered salute. “Nothing’ll keep me from my wife Lalisa Manoban. Tell Angie she’s a bitch for me.”

Ace rolled her eyes one final time before she took off in a flurry of black feathers and swirls of shimmering silver light, leaving Inferna alone in the forest.

Inferna pulled her player-plexus out again. She wanted to find Neddy, and she wanted to find food.

[elanorjane]

His Favorite Woman

Summary: Weaver juggles the many women in his life. Written as a sequel to the 2018 Rumbelle Prompt Showdown Rounds 1, which was written under the pen name Deshelved. 

AO3

Weaver had stepped out for lunch and wasn’t ready to go back to the precinct yet. As much as the boys admired him, something about their esteem felt empty. He beat his palms against the steering wheel. He was restless. Had been for days. Choosing not to examine that feeling too closely, he decided to make the rounds to all his informants. Then he'd stop by Roni’s for a nightcap so maybe he'd be able to get some sleep. He parked the car. Rolling up in an unmarked black car scared off his informers, it was easier to approach on foot. 

Static came over on his radio. The dispatcher relayed a report of multiple car alarms going off in a neighborhood. She requested someone in the field respond. A distraction, exactly what he was looking for. He plucked his transmitter off the dash and radioed in that he’d take it. It wasn’t far off from where he was now. He could still walk and release some of the edginess he couldn’t seem to shake.     Speaking of distractions...there she was, his ultimate diversion. The woman who lingered on the backs of his eyelids when he tried to sleep at night. He ducked under an awning, allowing him to watch her slink towards him undetected. She strolled down the sidewalk like she owned the whole block. One shapely leg crossed over the other. She was wearing that little trench coat and heels again, the same ones she’d had on in his office. He’d had a dream the other night that featured those heels in a starring role. He didn’t consider himself the BDSM type, in fact he demanded he be the one in control. But in his fantasy, when she’d sat down in the chair of his office, something inadvertently fell off his desk. When he rounded the desk and crouched to retrieve it, she’d lifted one lithe leg and stuck the heel of that shoe in his shoulder. She applied pressure, forcing him onto his knees, at her feet and at her mercy. He hadn’t complained. In fact he’d woken up so hard he's been forced to give himself an unsatisfying release with his hand. Maybe that was where the unrest had come from. Not that he needed a woman in his life. The one in front of him was evidence enough that they were more trouble than they were worth. He continued watching her advance towards him. She paused every few feet and casually tried the door of a car. Son of a bitch, he cursed to himself. Of course. Of course it was her. He was about to emerge from his hiding place and interrupt her when a kid came barreling around the corner. He ran straight at Lacey. He’s gonna mug her, he thought. Weaver considered letting the ironic scene play out, a pickpocket stealing from a thief. But he pushed off the wall and moved to intervene. To his surprise, Lacey smiled when she saw the boy coming, the kind that showed her teeth. He’d never seen her smile like that. She was all smirks with him. The kid said something and she replied but Weaver was too far away to hear them. As he neared, she spotted him. Her eyes widened, obviously not as happy to see him. He assumed because he was about to ruin her grift. She quickly murmured something to the kid who sped off before Weaver could get a good look at him. He nodded at the retreating boy, “Who was that?” Lacey turned to watch the lad as he disappeared out of sight. She hesitated, “Ah….” She spun back around, “new customer for my burgeoning escort business,” she joked. “He couldn’t afford me.”   Weaver let it go, thinking back to the charges he’d cleared up for her. “Keith bothering you lately?” She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “No,” she bounced on her heels, “thanks to you.”    He nodded to the line of cars down the street. “Is it you I’ve been getting calls about?” “That depends,” she commented, unconcerned. “What streets are you getting calls about?” “Spring and Madison.” She shook her head, tendrils tumbling out of the pile on the top of her head, “Nope, not me.” “But you know who is,” he leveled with her.   “They’re my friends,” she told him flatly. The statement told him that she knew who it was and that she wasn’t going to tell him.   “They’re going to get you into trouble I can’t get you out of,” he countered. She shifted her weight onto one heel and frowned. “You don’t have to protect me,” she erupted defensively. “I’m not that Tilly girl you’re always hanging around.” She crossed her arms, “What’s up with that anyway?”   He sniffed, “Tilly’s my best informant.” She was gobsmacked. “The girl’s half crazy, living under a bridge, and you’re gonna tell me you go see her for her information?” He bared his teeth, “I’m afraid you got this backwards, sweetheart,” he hissed. “I’m the cop. You’re the criminal.” She leaned in and glowered at him, “Well unless you got something to arrest me on I’m gonna be on my way.” She stalked past him, her heels clicking on the pavement.   He thought about hauling her smart mouth in for questioning. But the idea of having her alone in a small room with him didn’t feel like the best for either of them. He gave up the informant rounds and went back to his office instead and scowled at paperwork for a few hours. Roni’s was more urban professional than cop watering hole, but it was across the street from the station. He could usually have a drink in peace. Normally the yuppies were scattered among the tables but tonight there was a crowd at the bar. As he approached, the sea of mostly men parted, revealing Lacey in the center, holding court. “Alright, this time twenty says I can bounce the cherry off the back of my hand, catch it in my mouth and tie the stem in a knot.” She called to Roni, requesting she bring them another glass of cherries.    The air of disapproval must be wafting off him because many eyes turned to him. Eventually, Lacey noticed him. It’s not that what she so often was doing was illegal. It was that she continually made it his problem. She tilted her head at him, “Don’t you ever go home?” She wasn’t glaring at him anymore, so he suspected she was a few drinks ahead of him. No, in fact, he rarely did go home to his sparsely furnished apartment. In fact, he was known to spend the night on a cot in one of the holding cells. “I could ask you the same question.” He nodded at Roni, who slid him a whiskey across the bar. “Game’s over, boys,” Lacey announced. “The po-po showed up.” There were a few groans but the young men quickly found amusement elsewhere. She leaned towards him, forearm on the bar, letting her blouse gape open at the top. “I think you’re lonely,” she mused. That hit a little too close to the source of his restlessness for his comfort. Roni, wiping her damp hands on a rag, came up behind Weaver. She leaned close to his ear, “Will you get her out of here, please? She takes all their money before they even order a second drink. I run a bar, not her personal racketeering business.”   He was more than happy for an excuse to not comment on Lacey’s observation. He downed the rest of his drink. “Let’s go,” he issued the order in his official police business tone.   She slid off the stool willingly enough, but he wrapped his hand around her forearm anyway. “So, lemme see,” Lacey counted off on the fingers of her free hand. “You take orders from Tilly, Roni...Tell me, Detective, if I tell you to turn around and spread ‘em, would you?” “That’s enough,” he jerked them out the door. The crisp winter air hit them. He hoped it would sober her up a bit so she’d quit running her mouth and pushing his buttons. “You take all your professional advice from a homeless girl and you keep another woman’s whiskey in your bottom drawer.”     So she knew it was Roni who regularly supplied him with the stash in his desk. “It’s not like that,” he assured her.   “What are you trying to do?” she wondered aloud.   “My job,” he ground out.   She shook her head, wrenching her arm out of his grip, “No, I don’t think that’s it. There’s something else going on with you.” He sighed deeply. She had no idea. “Well, when you figure it out let me know.” She wasn’t ranting at him anymore, but she was studying him curiously, which was more unnerving. He’d rather she yell at him. Making up her mind about something she lifted up on her toes and kissed him. He didn’t do anything. He didn’t even close his eyes. His mouth was a tight, thin line. He blinked. What was she doing? What was he doing? By the time he registered her soft pout, he felt her start to move away and he finally snapped into action. His hands clutched her waist and yanked her against him. She squeaked in surprise but wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn’t give himself an iota of a second to think about what he was doing before crashing his lips against hers.      This. This is what he’d been missing, he thought when he tasted the cherry flavor on her tongue. The restlessness he’d been struggling with started to fade. There were a million reasons not to do this. But it felt like the beginning of an idea and he wanted to chase it all the way to its denouement. She pulled or he pushed them against the outside brick wall of the bar. His hands began to wander up and down her sides, but all that met him were winter layers. He couldn’t touch her properly like this. He wouldn’t be able to chase away the unease that had been plaguing him for days if he couldn’t feel all of her. He settled for biting and sucking at the exposed skin of her neck. Was he so desperate for her because he was lonely? Was he using her? Did it matter? She lived close to here, he knew she did. “Let’s go somewhere,” he murmured by her ear, before tracing the delicate skin there with his mouth.   She froze in his arms. The suggestion, instead of stroking the fire that was beginning to burn in him, seemed to extinguish hers. “Um, not my place,” she seemed to read his mind.   His suspicions about her living arrangements were renewed. He’d managed to snake his hand up under her coat and shirt and ran his thumb right above the waistband of her pants. He kept up his ministrations. Keep the perp distracted and the truth might slip out. “Why not?” he pressed. She opened her mouth and he could tell a lie was about to come out but was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. She visibly sagged in relief, her arms falling to their sides. He yanked the phone out of his back pocket. The urge to pitch it into the street to get run over by a bus appealed to him strongly. “Weaver,” he answered tersely instead. He leaned one hand on the wall above her shoulder and held her gaze, boxing her in and signifying that their conversation wasn’t over. While she couldn’t make out the words, Lacey heard the clipped, precise tones she recognized from the local news. He ended the call. “It’s..” he began. “Victoria Belfrey, I get it,” she pressed herself harder into the wall, putting whatever distance she could between them. He saw the moment her eyes closed off to him, the gentle curiosity replaced by casual indifference. She looked completely unaffected by what just happened. He felt utterly destroyed.   He stood there, unwilling or unable to move.   She crossed her arms and shook her head, “Face it, Detective, you sure do have a lot of women in your life,” she told him. “And I don’t want to be another. It might get too crowded,” she added a little quieter. She stood up straight, jutting out her chin. “Don’t worry about me. I can see myself home.” But he could see the hurt behind her steely gaze. She wanted to be chosen for a change, she wanted to be put first. And he couldn’t give her that. He stood rooted to the spot. “Your fan club awaits,” she insisted, waving him off. “Go save everyone else, Detective,” she slid out from underneath his arm and rushed down the street. A strong compulsion to go after her came over him but he quickly stamped it down. She was right. She was just another diversion, not the answer to his troubles. He was a fool to think for a moment that she was.

[seenashwrite]

Imagine This Review

Word Count: it doesn’t matter, you’ll be riveted Category: Imagination Sanitation; humor; pure Crack based upon a stupid-ass Imagine that was sent my way by one of you darling deviants who stoke the fires of my snarkitude  Rating: (Older) Teen & Up Character(s): just read the story. Pairing(s): in a manner of speaking Warnings: Spit-take warning due to aforementioned vitriolic snark Author’s Note(s):  see post-story Overall Summary: per said imagine - “Imagine Sam making home videos” - the NashHole Writers Room Critics Corner obtained one of said movies - this is our review.

No, really - full review below.

From the way-too-dim or way-too-bright lighting, to the clearly unprofessional stunt choreography, to the jittery hand-cam (operated by someone credited as @KansasCooterThug79 who is, based on the frequent burp-chuckle combos, completely inebriated), the 4 1/2-hour ass-disaster of a largely unedited opus entitled "Furry Cock Jockey - Moose Bang: The Beginning" is time this reviewer will never get back.

The leading lady (credited as "Discount Hurley") is a poorly-made, distracting casting choice, as she appears to be anywhere from a decade to fifteen years younger than her co-star. She is introduced in the inexplicably Skynyrd-backed opening sequence, lamenting her inability to “read real good”, then writhing in frustration atop a collection of antique books in a basement library setting, donned in a flannel shirt and stretched-out, faded, pink satin panties that have clearly - even despite the lack of HD resolution - seen better days. Her introductory dialogue consists of moaning "THE LORE!" repeatedly, only to ultimately scream in an octave normally associated with seagulls in heat who have ingested the finest New Jersey boardwalk meth, when our male lead, the eponymous he-of-jockeying-and-banging (credited as "Winchester, Jumbo-Size") appears in a meticulously-constructed moose ensemble, featuring antlers and a split-crotch.

The plot - if one might call such a retinal-burning, synapse-melting glimpse into the garish pageantry of a fantasy come to life in the filmmakers' down time a "plot" - regards a massive moose seeking to woo the constantly pouting-and-lip-nibbling hunter by assisting her in the aforementioned advanced process of reading good, so that she may find a monster-killing answer of some sort, which seems counter-intuitive as one would think it is he whom she hunts. Perhaps this was an attempt at irony, though it is objectively doubtful. We then learn that the opening scene was but a flashback, which was contained in a vision brought on by a cocktail involving - per a label on a re-purposed Cool Whip container - “Djinn Juice”, which was in turn wrapped inside a fever dream that began after mainlining Leviathan goo and snorting rails of powdered nun bone.

It is at this point we will dispense with recapping the many failed attempts at activities involving cars - including, but not limited to, an obscene amount of foiled hood-slide attempts - chiefly because the filmmakers were evidently unaware that as fun an idea as it may be to receive a hummer whilst perched upon the hood of a tricked-out muscle-car whose engine is also humming, doing this for too long in an enclosed place - like, say, an underground garage - is a one-way ticket to carbon monoxide town.

The title-teased "bang" occurs late in the film, as a copious amount of run-time following the re-emergence from CO comas was spent on hair-washing scenes utilizing cruelty-free product, and making protein-powder-filled, “grass”-colored (yes, that breed of grass) smoothies, all admirably accomplished, given the hoofs. Following the beach waves achievement unlock, and post-smoothie consumption, the actual intercourse itself began. It was some bizarre amalgam of seizure activity and self-loathing, though the filmmakers were clear to establish consent - the only non-grunt verbalization by the almost-fellated furry beyond frequent, frustrated chastisement of Mr. CooterThug's physical proximity to the action at any given point in the film - thereby earning the lone star in this reviewer's rating.

While our policy at The NWR is to avoid spoilers, we make an exception here, to tell you the film’s climax. Sadly, the film’s only climax. It trails off as the camera falls to the floor, an empty beer bottle landing in frame, though we eventually see the leading lady's sneakers walking across, hear her announce around what must have been an enormous wad of chewing gum that her cab was outside, subsequently inquiring as to where “the fuck [her] fifty bucks is at”. A crumpled bill is thrown into view and, finally, a slurred voice demands a response to the age old question: "Sweetheart, you didn't take my panties, did you? Swee.... sw.... BITCH! YOU HEAR ME?!" The cap-off is a hard cut to black, followed by the credits, which were merely a still of the names of the participants carved into a table. Also, a rudimentary representation of a penis.

You can find this movie somewhere, we here at The NashHole Writing Room have no goddamned clue, ask the 30% of viewers who found it of some worth. Don’t ask the 70% who began stabbing themselves around the time the antler-play got too nauseating, and huffing kerosene when the barrel of organic lube rolled out, all whilst praying for the chariots to carry them away, didn’t matter to where. The slightly-damaged VHS copy we used for viewing was received, unsolicited, in the mail. After we threw it into the dumpster following the first five minutes of what was possibly a precursor film involving a 6-foot-and-change-tall squirrel and his nuts, which this film was apparently filmed atop (after all, even Monet reused canvases), it resurfaced on various NWR employees’ windshields and on NashHole Headquarters’ front porch with enough regularity to prompt this review, in the hopes this will settle the matter. 

No return address or phone number was provided, the title only known because it was scrawled along the side of the tape in what must be noted as the handwriting of a serial killer if we’d ever seen it. As there was no case, there was no cover art - save a smaller, delicately etched reproduction of the aforementioned penis - so the graphics department here at The NWR has edited down a suitable-for-work version of what we suspect was an attempt at said cover art by the filmmakers (see above), sent to us by the now-defunct email hentai_fapper@discreetfairyrentals.com.  

Do not contact us for the NSFW version.

On a more personal note, this reviewer has a palpable amount of existential dread regarding the intimation in the title - if this is only the beginning, may whatever gods exist have mercy on our souls.

.

This Imagination Sanitation was, as per usual, sponsored by snark. Snark: day or night, your call, it’s a dietary staple. Please ingest responsibly. And also wine. Wine was present during the crafting of this tale. Also a dietary staple. Ahem.

.

Find an “Imagine” that needs a stern-yet-snarky talking-to?  

◄◄◄ Dazzle me ►►►

.

*~* Imagination Sanitation + Other Satirical Sundry Master Post *~*

.

See Nash (actually) Write:

*~* Mobile Master List *~*

Author’s Note: I just... I just... to fully paint the picture, here’s what I saw that made me double over in laughter. The premise on its own would possibly be fine.... but then the accompanying image. The right gif is completely obnoxious, I wish you could see it in action. These men are in their late 30s, y’all. They ain’t making youtube vids with 16 year olds. Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. 🙄

Imagine source [x]

[cometladyicarus-blog]

Alliance and Hierarchy pt.2

 Okay, here’s part two which sets up for the sketch I had linked to in part 1 - a fairly generic work scene considering who’s involved, after all.

Not much to ramble about here, except for some awkward transitions I haven’t figured out how to smoother over just yet. And as before, handwave inconsistencies with canon while reading, but let me know where I was off-canon please!

I freely admit, I don’t know much (or anything) about prosthetics except for the occasional news story, but I presume that in the future prosthetics would be better than the ones available now. 

Part 1

Part 2

Who doesn’t love dealing with Akuze’s aftermath?

12 March 2178 (Human Calendar)

Citadel Lower Wards

15:15 Local Time

The artificial leg was awkward, but the Salarian doctor with the motor mouth the Alliance hired had an improved version waiting for Jane in Dr. Michel’s Ward Medical Center. He may not have the right angles in his own legs, but he seemed to know how to make artificial legs for a human with a habit of tripping in heels of any kind originally. Then again, Asari have a very similar leg build, or appear be. Regardless, she doubted - if Asari did have a similar bone structure for legs as humans - she was the first creature to be missing a leg.

Doctor Michel greeted her and waved out a patient who had apparently been faking an illness to get out of work. “Lieutenant Commander Shepard, your leg has arrived. The privacy curtain is going up, now.”

“Thanks.” Jane unlaced her boots - still her active duty pair, considering her other shoes were strappy things she had been convinced to buy a year ago when Rain - no, not now. Michel passed through the curtain as she was kicking off the last bit of pant leg onto the floor.

She flashed a grin at the ward doctor as she hopped onto the table, flexing both feet, though the temporary one was slower to react and actually stuttered as she moved the ankle. “So, pop out the temp, pop in the new, and all’s good?”

“Physically.” The Human doctor frowned, but the new leg was installed with very little problem. “I still think you should speak with psychological expert again. Causes of injury like yours don’t heal without scarring of the mind.”

“I'll be fine, they cleared me as sound of mind. My nine months are almost up.” Shepard's green eyes stared out the windows. “I'm not sure I'm ready to go back into service. I’ve never actually had time to do anything else, really. Mom would still have Golden Boy John the Hero, y’know, and I could never live up to that.”

She slid to the edge of the table and placed her good foot on the floor first, leaning on the table as the false leg touched the solid surface. She shifted her stance to place more of her weight onto the new leg until she was touching the table for balance and holding one leg up. A practice walk around the table, good, good, no creaks, no cracks, just footsteps.

Jane was zipping and buttoning her pants when the doctor asked her an odd question.

“Where would you go, Lieutenant Commander, if not back to the Alliance?”

She was dancing - sort of, she was never a very graceful person, though the new leg was more stable than her original two together ever were - to the tune of some old Earth song about shutting up and just dancing with the one’s true love. Or something. Old Earth romance dance songs weren't her usual thing, she only went to Humanity's cradle for Graduation Leave. Hell, dancing wasn't, but the new leg actually supported her weight and was fully locked into the socket. It was time to celebrate giving away that stupid cane!

And what better way than to wear a cute little number that didn’t leave her ass out to the world, or try to make a fuss about making her flat chest seem bigger, in a pair of strappy heels that didn’t catch in the ball-hinge joint of her new leg? Celebrate life and freedom! And booze!

To pretend her life wasn't one disaster after another. To take back her life from The Legacy. She downed her shot- sweet, hint of fire, savory- and signed for another one.  

Not drunk yet, she only started ordering her usual list that seemed longer than it used to be. Last Leave, Commander Trapper ordered them off the ship to keep from bothering the Odette crew still stuck on duty. Toombs was determined to survive Leave sober enough to take everyone back from the bar, but his plan failed when Lefty wasn't paying attention and poured rum into his soda.

She had won the drinking game as they watched some game or another and had to take a drink every time the announcer started shouted excitedly. Lefty picked an arm-wrestling match against a visiting Turian. Rain was busy lecturing on the importance of good medical care to the three equally drunk Volus.

When the commander found the whole team half-passed out playing pool and still drinking and telling bad jokes, he apologized to the bar owner.

And the team was the group of nice military people. Who chased off the xenophobic locals from harassing the Turian engineering squad also on their own Leave. The lecture Trapper almost ripped into them before the clarification—

A jittery Salarian bumped into her, breaking her memory as she stepped away from the bar and sipped at another glass of … something, blue, at the bar. He dropped a device as the Volus owner barreled through. She smiled at the mental image of a Volus pinball knocking over patrons. Maybe a Volus Vanguard on a Biotic Charge?

Ah well, the Salarian escaped the burly reach of the Human bouncer’s arms. The owner wandered back to the bar and walked under the barkeep/patron barrier ledge.

“- That Salari-an! - I know he was chea-ting.”

She knelt down to pick up the device. “Sir? Was this that Salarian gentleman's?”

“-Yes. - Thank you,- ah?”

She smiled. “Shepard, well, Jane Shepard.”

“Yes - thank you, - Jane Shepard - of Earth-Clan -.”

She spent the next two and a half weeks at Flux’s as an unofficial bouncer, stepping in when the waitress girls were being bothered, and watching the quasar machines for the accused cheater. She was paid in drinks and food from the bar. Not a bad gig. Kept her from falling too deep in old memories. Or the new ones haunting her dream hours.

Until one night, a week before her leave was up and she would have to call it quits on her unofficial job anyway, a C-Sec officer tapped her on the shoulder.

She had been telling the waitress about how she got some of the scars - not the Thresher Maw ones, too soon, no good, badbadbad - and showing off her - now scarred, being on her inner lower arm - tattoo marking which Company she was a part of, when she was tapped on the shoulder with the tattoo of her squad.

Single finger tap, a wide and long-ish instead of skinny and long finger, from an armor plated glove, blunted tip, had to be Turian. Asari did not wear armor plate, nor have wide fingers, and often tapped with two fingers like a lot of Humans. Salarians, on the other hand, tapped with one but didn’t often wear plates, nor did they have wide fingers. Krogan was unlikely, she’d just be pushed or shoved instead of tapped. Too tall to be a Volus. Elchor just spoke in a rumbly voice and wouldn't tap someone on the shoulder. She turned the barstool, adjusting the wide strap of her dress.

Turian was correct. Fringe and prominent cowl identified him as a young-ish adult male turian. He looked to be about her age, just out of mandatory military service. And taller than her, like most Turians. “Excuse me. Officer Garrus Vakarian. C-Sec.”

She smiled and held out a hand. Yeah, he was about her age. Other military officers her age were still polite and formal. Hadn't had the manners beat out of them from the hustle and bustle of getting things done yesterday and the resentment from bureaucrats messing with shit they didn't know. “Nice to meet you, Officer. Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard, Systems Alliance Marines. Currently on a long and well-deserved leave.”

He chuckled. “Apparently, and you seem to be itching to get back if you took up bouncing for a bar.” Interesting, he didn't immediately activate the not-staring gaze at her leg that was in full display as she sat on the barstool in a skirt that didn't reach her knees. Or the scars along her arms, her face, her good organic leg. He looked her in the eye. The dance stage lights played havoc with her eyes trying to pick out the color of his clan marks. They may as well be fuchsia as far as she could tell.

She indicated the drink in front of her. “Free drinks, and I can help move people out with my drunk soldier act.” She paused for a moment. “I’m not breaking Citadel law, am I, officer?”

“No, ma’am. Just checking to see why an Alliance soldier is on a long leave, and why said soldier hasn’t checked in with her embassy for two months.”

She swore. “My mother put you guys up to this? This is why I didn’t check in; they’d tell her, she’d show up, start insisting on taking care of me or some other kind of bullshit, and then she’d wonder why the hell I’m not- Why am I ranting all this to you?”

He shrugged as his mandibles twitched in the manner she recognized as amusement. Nine months was a long time to spend on the Citadel, and Humans weren’t quite everywhere yet. “I have one of those handsome, devilishly charming, faces and a voice that can summon the truth from anyone. I don’t know what made the Embassy look for you, just that they are.”

Oh damn, he's a clever asshole. A cute clever asshole. She smiled at his disarming tactic and turned her wrists in a surrender. “Alright, I know making deals is kind of against regulations, but I’m this close,” she held her thumb and index finger very close to each other as she went on, “to catching a hacker rigging the Quasar games to his favor. That’s really why I’ve been bouncing here, C-Sec has better things to worry about than a gambling cheater and a soldier on a long medical leave.”

Vakarian paused a moment, nodded. “Alright. Who are we watching for?”

Well that’s new. He was up for playing along with her vigilante-ish scheme. On the other hand, she was helping to improve the situation of the community by trying to gather evidence for proper law enforcement- shut up, just report. “Salarian. Name’s Schells, I think. Paler face than the rest of his head, but he has spots in the lighter shade. I’d say grey or blue-grey at darkest. Half a head taller than me. Likes to wear red, but don’t rely on that. I think his eyes are green, but the lighting here is difficult enough that I can't be certain what colony color your clan marks are. And if I didn’t know my hair is red, I’d not know it either.”

He pulled up his omnitool’s display and found the Salarian in question. “So, any behavior patterns you know of?”

“He usually shows up when the place is busiest. Easier to slip in and move about when everyone is everywhere. He usually only plays a few games at a time, thanks to Flux knocking over everyone in an attempt to tackle him.”

“Like now on the left?”

She looked. “Well, he’s early. That’s poor form. Breaking a pattern is just as likely to get you caught as keeping it.”

Some yelling, and shouting, from the Salarian, but Schells was cuffed in the end, and Flux was trying to get Vakarian to accept some drinks. The nice officer kept turning them down, insisting he was on the clock. 

With the Volus finally appeased and moving along back to his bar, Officer Garrus Vakarian, C-Sec, turned to Jane. “Alright, we got him, and better yet, he’s now in C-Sec hands for his crime.”

She grinned. “Great!”

“Now you’ll keep your end of the deal.” He laughed as she swore and stopped her celebrating. “Turians don’t forget that easily, Lieutenant Commander.”

And then he led the way to C-Sec headquarters, pausing only long enough to let her glance around the Presidium and for him to point out features and some of the histories of the features. She would later learn he took the less direct route.

“Officer- ah, you found her?” Another Turian, this one older and clearly not fond of tracking down people, approached and gave her a once-over. The dress felt more awkward, with her leg on display, but he seemed to make a point of not really looking at her. Damn it, she'd think Turians were familiar with what dangers are in military life and would know better than to look-not-look at scars like that. Hell, the few Krogan she’s met thought her tale was worthy of being put to song, and while it was flattering, no thanks, I really don’t have the time to listen-

Vakarian moved his hands between the two, breaking her from her mental rant and indicating who was who. “Detective Chellick, Shepard. Lieutenant Commander Shepard, Chellick.”

“Nice to meet you, Detective. As you can see I am just fine, I just didn’t want to deal with Alliance when I’m on nine months of medical leave.”

“Medical leave? Jane! What happened? How are you still standing if you needed nine months?” Captain Hannah Shepard, mother of the Akuze Sole Survivor and mother of the Hero of Elysium, gave Jane a close look-over. Examining every piece of civilian wear she was wearing when out catching a gambling cheater. Likely disapproving it all for practicality, but Jane didn't need it to do more than look pretty. Or sort of pretty. Hannah spent more time staring without staring at the leg and the scars on her arms, leg, and face. At least she couldn’t see the scars along the rest of her.

She paled, forced herself to smile, and locked her legs to keep herself from falling to the temptation that running offered her. “Mother, I didn’t want you to worry, not any more than Akuze already had you distracted from your responsibilities. I just had to have my leg replaced and get used to it all. See? I’m fine. I’ll be going back on duty next week, already booked transport back to the Alliance.”

The Captain crushed her daughter in a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me this? I heard about Akuze but-”

She clapped her arms around her mother twice before pushing her back a step with a smile. “Mom, John needs you more, I think. I trained for being out in the wilds before the mission, but he ran around being a hero in his underwear, armed with a paperclip. I think he needs you to remind him how what he did was more dangerous and incredibly stupid than me being attacked in full armor by the wildlife.” John was going to love his baby sister now she set their mother on him.

Hannah Shepard smiled and patted Jane Shepard’s head. “I was just worried.”

“Mom, you used your military clearance to track me down, I have my Omnitool on me all the time. Next time, just send a message. I have to report to the Embassy now you involved them. Wonderful to see you again, I promise I’ll visit for Winter Festives.”

Hannah smiled and left C-Sec with one of the higher-ups.

“You didn't tell her about your leg before, or did she already know?”

Jane glared at the law enforcer. “Not a word to her about Schells or anything else about my Leave. I'm making my own way, without her name paving it ahead of me. I am earning every accolade, and refusing everything that hints at her influence. I do not need her damn pity or her want to help her poor, cybernetically legged, daughter.”

"I completely understand." The way he shook his head as the elevator to the docks went up made her believe him.

The day she was leaving, her omnitool beeped and sang to alert her to a call coming in.

“What is it, Vakarian?” She listened as he summarized the events regarding the Salarian madman. Busy week. “On my way.”

She ran, shoving people aside with the practiced ease of any N7 candidate until she found the Salarian matching the doctor’s description. “Halt, Saleon, in the name of--” no, not in Alliance space- “Citadel Justice!”

Well, that worked. God, she sounded like some fictional super heroine character saying that. The Salarian turned. Must have been the strange command.

“The name of what?” Strange: 1, Regulation Standard: 0.

She grinned, tackled, and locked him down, even without cuffs. Catching bad guys turned out to be fun. “Vakarian, is this him?”

“That’s him. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. I’ll just call this my great send off to the hardest training the Alliance can dish out. I believe, Doctor, this is called ‘justice.’”

The Salarian would have head-butt her if he were Krogan.

Garrus chuckled and helped her stand again. “Glad to be of help to you. I owe you a few drinks next time you’re at the Citadel.”

She grinned. “Alright.”

Maybe she had an answer for Doctor Michel's question.

28 September, 2178

Luna Base, Sol System

18:35 Earth Standard

With her N7 stripe on her armor, the patch on almost everything she wore, her footlocker packed and in hand, she squared her shoulders and stood her ground. “Nope. I am out.”

“But you passed.”

She glared. “I only passed because you all decided that I needed to be fucking rewarded for being at just the right place to survive Akuze, even with a dead leg. I passed this so you lot know I’m not quitting because I couldn’t handle this shit. I’m quitting because I am done with military life. I am done being the great Commander John Shepard’s little sister. I am done being the great Captain Hannah Shepard’s daughter. I am done with being The Sole Survivor of Akuze.”

“Alright, where will you go?”

She shrugged and remembered a flanging voice chuckling, blue eyes behind a blue half-visor, and owed drinks. “I’m thinking security. Or law enforcement. Off Earth, of course. Maybe at a station or something.”

The evaluator looked at her papers. “Your forms say you’re going into the reserve services.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

No more reason to complain, she was still - technically - part of the Alliance’s military, and someone was bound to point out how she’s still scarred mentally by Akuze.

12 October 2178

Presidium Embassies, Citadel

08:15 Local Time

“Well, Vakarian. You’re getting a new partner. Try not to arrest this one, or else you’re out, regardless of family connections.” Executor Pallin did not look like the kind of person anyone would want to irritate.

“Don’t partner me up with someone corrupt then, sir.” Garrus looked the same as seven months before. From behind him, she could see how his hands were having a hard time staying folded behind his back. Couldn’t have been a very comfortable stance to maintain either.

She cleared her throat. “Technically, I’m a C-Sec cadet, but being an Alliance N7 was impressive enough to the bosses that I just have to memorize regulations and can skip the physical training. That and they shot at my metal leg to test my pain threshold. Guess being former military is good in general here.”

Garrus frowned as he looked her over. No, not frowned, he looked her over with an observing eye, like he was making sure she wasn't part of an elaborate joke. Did Turians prank each other? Her uniform was the correct one, right? The red and white stripes on her sleeve were just Alliance standard, but they weren’t exactly C-Sec standard, and no N7 ever left the military for Citadel Security or any other kind of security organization though Jay- “Shepard?”

She grinned, though part of her flinched at someone using her last name like it was her only name. “Vakarian.” So much for being mature and not-petty. “Call me Jane, my mother is Shepard. So is my father. And so is my brother.”

“Alright, then I’m Garrus. Vakarian’s my father.”

“Yeah, figured you two would do well together, with Schells, his elchor accomplice, and Saleon. Better not be a sign you two don’t like Salarians.”

Jane shrugged. “So, where do we start, partner?”

She held out a hand and after a moment of pause on his side, they shook hands.