#but if some eldritch horror wanted to clap cheeks....

[corpsecoochie]

are you a monsterfucker?

WHEN I TELL YOU I CACKLED SO LOUD AT THIS

[janekfan]

Ten Seconds

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25814524

One can do anything for ten seconds. And then all you have to do is start with another ten seconds and well. You can do anything for ten seconds. Jon blinked back the encroaching, smothering black.

Ten seconds.

Martin deserved ten seconds. Ten thousand seconds. Ten billion seconds. But at the moment, Jon can only spare him ten. And then he would spare him ten more.

Ten seconds.

Martin’s hand was cold, pale, and Jon worried that without his ability to See, there would be no one beside him on the train. Awkwardly, he pressed trembling lips to the soft head of auburn hair settled against his chest. (Was there even a heartbeat under there?) He could do this now, he was allowed.

Ten seconds.

Jon stayed there for a full count, breathing in the comfort of Martin, there, with him, against him. Solid. Not quite warm yet. But there. His weight grounding Jon as his mind attempted to race and came up only with

Hungry. Hungry. Starving. Hollow. Empty. Empty. Empty. Painhurthungerempty there’s a statement in the second car and pleasejustletmeeatsomethingiamstarvingandsosoSOHUNGRY.

Ten seconds.

Swallowing down the intrusive thoughts past the clot of agony in his throat, Jon could feel every scar one hundred fold. Itching. Aching. Stretching like mouths in his ashen skin to reveal what monster lay underneath and he couldn’t let it because then everyone would Know like he Knew. He offered the elderly lady across from him a wavering smile and she returned it and it was so normal and nothing had been normal for so long. He buried his face in Martin’s hair, sweet, exhausted, Lonely, Martin who needed him to be strong for just once in his greedy life.

Ten seconds.

He cried, silently, hidden from sight, every nerve alight as he strained the limit of his unwanted powers to make sure nothing was following them.

Ten seconds.

That’s all he needed before the train pulled to a lurching stop at the small, but well kept station. Jon shouldered their backpacks, cupping Martin’s cheek and touching his forehead to his.

“Up you get, darling.” Martin’s eyes were hazy and grey, brightening to strawflower blue when he acknowledged Jon. “If we don’t disembark now, we’ll have left all the good cows behind us.” Despite his own slightness and Martin’s greater height, Jon guided them both to the platform, looking around to clear his head. “Come, love. I know the way.” Gentle. To make up for all the times he was not. That’s what Martin deserved. Kindness and gentleness and softness.

Jon was worried his sharp edges and temper and hunger would never be enough.

Ten seconds.

Huffing, wheezing, he hadn't been particularly fit before and wasn’t that a poor position to be in when most of your job relied on running from individual eldritch horrors, Jon struggled to hitch them both up the small slope to the tiny village. Though there were spare, flickering street lights, most of the windows were dark and if Jon hadn’t just compelled a being to death, he might have been frightened. As it was, the cottage came into view and Jon turned the key in the old lock and pushed in, going down under the heavy weakness in his legs.

“...Jon?”

“S’alright, Martin.” Just taking a short rest.

Ten seconds.

Before making it to the couch and taking Martin’s hands in his own. Gingerly, Jon rubbed his thumbs over the back of his hands, trying to impart some warmth, any warmth, into that frozen skin.

“I’ll make us some tea.” Get Martin warm. Warm and safe. Packs in a pile, Jon spread a knitted throw over him, tucking it around his shoulders and making quite sure he wouldn’t end up with a crick in his neck.

Ten seconds.

He locked the door.

Ten seconds.

Piled wood into the fireplace and checked the flue, no good would come of smoking them both like a fish.

Ten seconds.

And ten more again.

To work up the courage to strike a match and light the tinder and his hands shook so badly the first guttered out. The scar on his palm burned like the day he’d received it. Strike the match. Light the tinder. Stoke the fire and check the draft.

Ten seconds.

To cry and shake on the hearth. To rock back and forth, hands rough against his face, tears wet and uncomfortable and all his stifling made his head throb. When finally he could stand again, Jon checked on Martin, kissed his cheek because he was allowed to do that now, and stumbled into the kitchen to turn on the hob and heat some water.

“Oh.” He could see in the dark. When had that happened? He distracted himself with locating tea, so old, and Jon could pinpoint the exact date it had been manufactured, when it arrived on the shelf. When Daisy bought it and how long she took to put it away and when the last time a human, or somewhat human, hand had touched it and Martin would no doubt find it flavorless, but it was normalcy. A few dry goods in airtight containers, things that could be whipped up by adding water, stocked the pantry. They would need to go to the market but could survive for several days on what they had here. Or Marin could. Jon wanted only what he could not have. It would worry Martin. So he would try to eat. He could try anything for Martin. A sharp pang lanced through his middle and he curled up around it, gripping the counter for dear life and clapping a hand over his mouth to cut off the noise.

Ten seconds.

And the tea was done. And the lamp next to the couch worked to cast a cozy yellow glow over the room. Jon set his own chipped mug on the table before waking Martin to press another mug, warm from the tea, into his hands.

“Nothing could measure up to your tea, but it’s hot.” When Martin smiled, Jon’s whole body tingled; he wanted to make Martin smile always.

“Thank you, love.” The endearment made his head swim. This was his. To selfishly keep and to hold and to horde and because the Eye wanted to do that anyway, it was that much easier but no less unbelievable. More color flooded into Martin’s face at the first sip, and the expression he made, caught between polite and disgust, made Jon chuckle.

“We’ll have to stock up.” Martin continued to sip despite the taste, becoming more and more aware with each swallow, and Jon wanted to ask if he could. Maybe. “C’c’ould I. Perhaps.” Now that the idea was in his mind it was almost louder than the hunger and he couldn’t think of anything else. Martin raised an eyebrow because of course he did, because he wanted to hear Jon to say it. “I. I.” Breathe. “J’join you?” The only dignified way he could think of saying ‘if you don’t hold me now, I may fall completely apart, and you need me to not do that to you this time.’ Martin grinned widely, face soft and open and so, so beautiful, set his empty mug on the table and opened up the blanket. It was all Jon could do not to leap at him and cling like a limpet, and instead sideled into his embrace, melting against his side. Safe. Safe. He was safe. They were safe. He would always be safe here. Nuzzling his cheek into a broad chest and winding both hands into his jumper, Jon sighed, letting the steady heartbeat quiet the voices, the Knowing, listening to the quiet. Like Daisy said, just listen to the quiet. When he looked up, Martin met his gaze, and Jon charted the freckles like constellations dusted over his cheeks and knew he would never forget any of them even if someday he could.

“You look tired, Jon.” Martin frowned and no, no, no, Jon didn’t want him to do that, anything but that. Not because of him. So he chuffed, in that way that mimicked disbelief and ire. It was easy. Too easy. To build those walls back up again. But he’d hurt him so much already. He had to protect Martin from himself. From the monster that was hired right along with him.

“It’s been. Well, a bit of a day.” His legs were folded up on the couch and when had that happened? pressing his boney knees into Martin’s soft thigh. He’d been starving before he dove into the Lonely for Martin, to retrieve what was his, and he’d used up even more of himself destroying Peter Lukas, then most of the rest to leave with his precious, invaluable prize. “Bit of a decade, really.”

“Shall we, then?” Jon felt himself flush red and buried his nose into Martin’s chest. Because yes. yes. He wanted to lay beside Martin at night. Watch him wake up next to him. Last action of the day to kiss him good night, first of the morning to kiss him awake. “Oh, darling.” The amusement in his quiet voice made him flash hotter and Martin’s arms wrapped him up so completely he felt cocooned within the sanctuary of his hold. Cherished. Something that still had value despite being so, so ugly.

Ten seconds.

He couldn’t let himself cry. Not where Martin could see. Not when it would only make him worry.

“Y’yes, please.” This time Martin grabbed their packs, held Jon by the waist when the change in position made his head swim. “Heh. T’t’tired.” It wasn’t a lie, not completely, but it left a sour taste on his tongue either way. They were changing for bed when Jon realized Martin had turned self conscious, and he pressed himself into his surprised arms, skin singing like he’d been struck by lighting the moment they touched, tugging him down to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I love you.” Now it was Martin’s turn to blush and it only made Jon kiss him that much more. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The bed was just big enough for the pair of them to be comfortable and though Martin dropped off quickly, he was now warm to the touch, their faces scant centimeters apart. It was dark but Jon could make out every precious feature made prettier by the soft moonlight, lashes darker and swept over cheeks Jon wanted to kiss over and over and over again. Like this, in this tentative peace, Jon felt he finally had space to take a full breath. They were safe here. It was called a safe house. It was in the name.

But just in case he would stay awake to keep watch. To protect that which was his should something decide now was a good time to get cheeky.

Ten seconds.

He kept himself still so as not to disturb him. Watching. He needed to rest and recover and he wouldn’t be able to do so if Jon was rolling about the sheets. When the hunger threatened to crescendo, to beg him to extract any and all statements from Martin and he had so many, he distracted himself by memorizing all that he could.

Ten seconds.

The way his freckles were splashed more heavily on the left side of his face.

Ten seconds.

There were exactly seventeen dusted over his nose, with one close to the corner of his right eye.

Ten seconds.

Depending on what size and how pigmented, Jon could map Ursa Minor using the one nearest his lashes as Polaris. Ursa Major was too far away in terms of accuracy--

A wave of ache crested in his mind. The Eye no doubt tired of his little games.

Ten seconds.

In terms of accuracy, but was there, tucked closely to his ear, hidden partially from sight by a stray curl. Jon giggled, slightly hysterical, clamping both hands over his face. But there was a veritable zoo with Draco and Pegasus and Cignus.

Ten seconds.

Waiting for Martin to stir, his nose to scrunch up as he came awake on his own before pouncing and kissing him the rest of the way to consciousness.

“Good morning to you as well, Jon!” Martin was laughing. Hugging him close and kissing him back. He was allowed to have this.

Ten seconds.

“You need feeding up, darling.” Martin ran his fingers over Jon’s shivery ribs, playing them as though they were piano keys, pausing at the space left behind by the Boneturner. “You’re practically hollow.”

Ten seconds.

If he only knew. Instead.

“There are instant porridge oats in the pantry.” The thought of food made his stomach turn.

“As good as we’ll get, I suspect. At least until we head into the village.” They got ready squashed together at the small bathroom sink. It was nice. Domestic.

Jon watched Martin read the box, selecting two packets and pouring them into two bowls, He tipped a careful measure of hot water from the kettle over the gravel dust lining each before turning to pass two mugs of tea to him.

“Even my tea making abilities didn’t stand a chance.” He set a bowl before Jon, sliding a spoon across the table. Something must have shown in his face because Martin covered his hand with his own. “I know it’s. It’s not what you want. But.” Jon startled, knowing his eyes were wide in surprise as he looked up at Martin. “I’ll contact Basira. We’ll get you what you need.”

“Martin. N’n’no, it’s alright.”

Ten seconds.

“It really isn’t.” And he kissed his forehead.

Ten seconds.

“I’m not. Sure. If I, I can go to the village.” Jon tugged his mug closer to him, fingers leeching the warmth from the porcelain. “I’m. I’m not safe.” Barely above a whisper, he didn’t want to admit to this weakness in him. But he needed to be honest or he’d just put them in more danger.

He couldn’t protect Martin if he was chasing meals and out of his mind.

“No worries, love. I can go for the both of us.” Martin stirred his breakfast before taking a bite and not wanting to disappoint him, Jon forced a mouthful himself and the regret was instantaneous. “Oh, Jon.” He leaned into his palm as it cupped his ear.

Ten seconds.

Ten seconds.

Ten seconds.

Jon was dizzy, freezing. Like he’d taken the Lonely inside himself and housed it right next to where the worst of his hunger resided. He was so relieved Basira was shipping statements because if Jon were being honest with himself for once, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist just taking the statements from the one he loved most.

Ten seconds.

How many more until he could have any small respite?

Ten seconds.

At least it was quiet here. With Martin. They saw plenty of truly lovely cows on the walks they took hand in hand and side by side and Jon got to spend all the time he wanted curled against him, letting the rhythm of his pulse quiet the ravenous need.

Tonight though, he couldn’t seem to get warm, caught between chills and hunger pangs he kept to himself even though Martin could see right into his soul it seemed. He often wondered if Martin hated what he saw.

“Soon, love.” Oh, and the pain in Martin’s voice. This isn’t what Jon wanted at all.

Ten seconds.

When he was sure Martin was asleep, Jon crept out of bed to retrieve the jumper he’d discarded and pull it over his head, sighing with relief not because he was any warmer, but because now Martin was all around him. Even as he tried not to, tried to keep watch, Jon succumbed to sleep tucked tightly against Martin, drowning gently in him.

When Martin woke, he allowed himself a few moments to appreciate the small body snuggled up close because there was a time where he wasn’t sure he’d ever have a moment like this again. He brushed his fingers through prematurely greying hair and tucked it behind Jon’s ear so he could press his lips against his forehead, both eyelids, his cheek, his nose, to the corner of his slack mouth, smiling against the stubble there. Jon didn’t stir and Martin decided to let him sleep as long as possible. He wasn’t well. Pale and gaunt, haunted by the things he’d seen and been forced to do. Jon destroyed Peter Lukas, dragged him from the Lonely, got them all the way to Scotland.

Jon wouldn’t hear of him giving a statement, maybe he could give him this.

He was doing the washing up in the kitchen when he heard unsteady shuffling behind him followed by a hoarse, bleary voice.

“Martin. Y’were gone.”

“Jon?” Martin had just seconds to appreciate how small, how adorable Jon was swallowed up in his cable knit, swaying there like a bit of weed caught up in the tide. It hung off one narrow brown shoulder to fall mid thigh revealing bare, scarred legs and mismatched socked feet. His thin hands were fisted in the ends of the sleeves, one of them sleepily rubbing at an eye limned with shadows so dark Martin would have thought they’d been blacked had he not known better.

Just seconds before he crumpled like wet paper or a house of cards, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, his temple striking the wooden floor far too hard for Martin’s liking.

“Jon!” Fluttering, his hands lingered over Jon’s limp body like butterflies, lighting only briefly before resuming their frantic flight. He wasn’t sure he could move him. Touch him. What if he made it worse? Would he heal from this? When he was starved as he was?

“Mmh…” A bare sliver of unfocused dull brown appeared between lashes parted a hairsbreadth.

“Jon?” Delicately, Martin brushed aside his hair to get a better look at where he struck his head and violently, Jon flinched away from the light touch, breath picking up, trembling beginning in earnest now. At least there was no blood, only a nasty contusion that already seemed to be healing, albeit slowly, and he attempted to shift. “Hush, hush, don’t move. I’ve got you, darling. It’s Martin and I’ve got you.”

“Mmmartin.”

“Yes, I’m going to lift you.” Frighteningly limp, Jon weighed almost nothing in his arms and Martin tucked him closer, into his neck, protectively. “You’re so cold, love.”

“Martin.” The small whimper was little more than an exhale against his jaw. “Martin.”

“I’m here.” He settled him on the bed, still turned down from where Jon untangled himself to go looking for him just moments ago. “I’ve got you.” And to his utter dismay a painful sob wrenched itself free from Jon’s throat. “Oh, darling, shh, it’s alright.” Martin pulled the blankets up around them both and Jon turned into his chest, clutching him as tightly as he could, tears coming silently in a torrent, slipping over the bridge of his nose and soaking the sheets. “Alright, alright.” Gradually the shaking died down, and the hitching in his breath evened out into panting, and further into something approaching sleep. Saltwater damp lashes brushed against Martin’s skin and he stroked his palm up and down Jon’s back, pressing his lips wherever they could reach until his body relaxed completely, the hand once gripping him for dear life now loosely curled on the pillow where his head rested. Martin was sick with worry. He’d never seen Jon lose control like this; not even at his most paranoid.

Retrieving a damp flannel, Martin swept it delicately over Jon’s face, concerned when he didn’t so much as twitch, before setting it aside and settling in to wait. This time he would be here when Jon woke.

To give in to the Eye and watch (take) is to be rid of the pain of resisting.

It is equal parts loss and failure.

Monstrous. Untouchable, but afraid, so afraid.

Watching himself being watched by himself, being watched by himself, being watched by himself, being watched, infinitely, forever, because what watches the Ceaseless Watcher but itself? Through the hole torn in the very fabric of the sky, gloating, glutted, on truths and falsehoods it wasn’t supposed to have, to know, to keep like it had right.

Eyes forced to see, too many eyes, eyes that didn’t belong to him (all eyes belonged to him), feeding, gorging on information and Knowing, Knowing, Knowing, unable to shut the doors, unable to keep them out, out, out because now they were open and staring and wide and he didn’t have the strength to shut them again. Nothing but a conduit. A seemingly unlimited vessel somehow filled to the brim and bursting, seeping through the cracks of himself, rivulets of Knowing like acid, like hot, burning, blazing blood that he tried to keep inside through force of habit because no matter how much he lost, there was always more. More. More.

Too much. Too much. Too much.

But he needed it to breathe. To be. To suffocate him. Pain. But beautiful. The euphoria of holding one’s breath beneath the sea, silent, soft, soundless but for the muffled cadence of your heart in your ears.

Ten seconds.

To fill his lungs with water.

Ten seconds.

To decipher the reverberation beating against every sense.

Ten seconds.

“Martin.”

Ten seconds.

His throat ached.

Ten seconds.

To open his eyes, his two eyes. To see Martin’s frantic face above him. To feel wetness splash his face.

Ten seconds.

“Martin.” Shaky, he pressed a palm to his cheek, thumbed away a stray tear. “What’s wrong, darling?” Martin huffed, lips pulled into a trembling smile, and covered the back of Jon’s hand with his own.

“You’ve gone absolutely daft.” Martin scrubbed his face furiously, but it didn’t stop those blue eyes from welling up. “You, Jon.”

“M’alright.”

“Nope. Try again.”

“Martin--”

“You were screaming, Jon. I’ve. I’ve never. I didn’t know a person could sound like that.”

“I’m not quite a person though, am I?”

“Do not start with me, Jonathan Sims.”

“Oh, full name.” It hurt to speak, but felt so good to tease, to put a degree of separation between whatever this was and the nightmare he’d just been pulled from. “Am I in trouble, Mr. Blackwood?”

“You’ve not escaped this conversation.” Martin flopped to the pillows beside him, tugging Jon to his chest and he went willingly, melting under the kisses dotted amongst his hairline. Letting go of the residual tension. Losing himself in the quiet.

Ten seconds.

“S’sorry.” He felt Martin chin move against the top of his head.

“Whatever for, love?” Jon gestured weakly at the whole of himself, hand falling to the quilt at the end of its path, letting himself be squeezed tightly. “It’s not ideal, no.”

Ten seconds.

“But it doesn’t change how I feel.” Jon didn’t know he’d been holding his breath until it rushed out of him all at once, dizzied with relief. “You’re insufferable, but that’s just part of your charm.” A sweet kiss cut off his sputtering.

The gnawing, empty, ache was still there, buried deeply below the distraction Martin provided, buried beneath the love there and Jon could have wept at how lucky he was.

“Up you come, Jon.” He was still in the jumper, shy under Martin’s affectionate adoration as their fingers threaded together; the spaces between made for each other. “I’ll make us some tea.”

[bi-naesala]

Puzzle pieces (Josephine/Missandei)

Josephine tries to figure Missandei out.

(Also on AO3)

(Written for @mydarkevil)

When she first arrived at the Hamlet, Josephine didn’t really give any of her companions any mind: they had their reasons to be there, she had theirs.

She was especially wary of her more law-abiding companions, since sometimes her research can lead her to some… unsavory paths to say the least. This was especially true when it came to Missandei who, out of everyone, seemed to be the one who more genuinely believed in it; she wasn’t disillusioned like, say, William, nor she used the law just as an excuse to shed some blood like Tardif. No, she truly believed in justice, and Josephine could hardly stomach such a naïve thought.

 Things change, however, as time passes, also thanks to the fact that both Josephine and Missandei keep being sent out together.

What begins as simply a tactical alliance - after all, they work well together in the backlines - becomes a tentative friendship.

What surprises Josephine the most is that the idea she had of Missandei was completely wrong: she still feels like she doesn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle, but she can say for sure that Missandei isn’t the paladin of justice she thought she was. She still is a good person, but there’s something different, something that goes deeper that is born from having been on the wrong end of an injustice that feeds the will to be a good person, as if that could compensate for what she’s gone through.

 Truly a curious creature, and if there’s something that Josephine loves, those are curiosities…

Missandei couldn’t be able to pinpoint when it actually happened, but it’s obvious that Josephine’s demeanor towards her has changed. Not that she ever treated her badly, but there was a sort of cold distance between them typical of those people who, despite the fact that they have to work together, are aware of the fact that they have little to do with each other.

Now, however, she tends to stick to her more often even when they’re stationed at the Hamlet. She sits beside her at the tavern, sharing drinks and stories, and she’s taken a habit of watching her practice her aim at the guild. More often than not she’d turn towards her after a bullseye, only to catch her staring at her with such a lovestruck gaze that it almost overwhelms her; every time it happens, she can feel her skin heat up, so she’d turn to get back her arrows so that she doesn’t have to look at her.

 Still, she can’t really say that she minds all the attention, because that would be a lie.

What can she say? Josephine is cute after all, and fierce. When they first met she wouldn’t have thought all these things about her, but despite some weird traits here and there, she appreciates her determination. She’s also very intelligent and always seem to have a trick up her sleeve.

She’s a cunning woman, that’s for sure, and Missandei finds herself liking it more and more, so if sometimes she shows off in order to catch her eyes, well, that’s something only for her to know…

  They continue to dance around each other, until one night, at the tavern, what was supposed to happen a long time ago finally does.

It’s not even their intention, at first: they were just spending some merry times with the rest of the adventurers, when Sarmenti gets up, takes his lute, and begins to play one of those vulgar songs that once would’ve made Missandei roll her eyes - she never held such things in high regards - but now she laughs, clapping in time with the music, singing along everyone else.

Her gaze moves to Josephine, who’s happily singing as well. For once she doesn’t look guarded, she looks like she’s really enjoying herself.

Maybe it’s the lightheadedness of the moment that makes Missandei act, as she gently takes Josephine’s chin with her hand and draws her close for a kiss. At first Josephine freezes, surprised by such an initiative, but she melts soon into the kiss; by the time she reaches around Missandei’s neck with her arm she’s completely gone, eagerly returning the kiss.

 Thankfully nobody mentions anything, which if on one hand seems weird - especially considering that they must’ve seen them - on the other it’s more than welcome, especially because if someone dared even just to breathe a joke or something sarcastic to say - looking at you Sarmenti - Missandei would’ve thrown her beer tankard at them.

  And so they begin a tentative relationship. It feels weird to entertain something so normal given the place they’re staying at, given what they experience day by day, but they can’t lie: it also feels great.

They needed something normal, small moments that could remind them that there’s more to life than fighting for survival, that could remind them reasons why life is worth living, because it is worth living, or else they wouldn’t be fighting these eldritch horrors.

How curios that human resilience tends to become stronger the worse the situation gets, but maybe that’s just because of the bonds they share. If they were alone, maybe things would be even harder.

 Neither of them have had many romantic experiences in the past - never had the time for that - so you could say that they’re a bit clumsy at times, but they make it work enough that sometimes they wonder how things would be if they didn’t have anyone to make their days more bearable and the nights less lonely.

  Josephine is stumped: she wants to give Missandei gifts, spoil her, but what she can get her? Her specialty are antiques that Missandei wouldn’t have any use for, even though she would surely receive them with a smile.

No, she wants to give her something that she’d actually enjoy, not just some bits and bobbles that she would have no use for.

Mmmh… Maybe she has an idea.

 “Where did you find these?” Missandei asks, as she inspect the crossbow bolts that Josephine has been such a darling for gifting them to her. Their craftmanship is impeccable: not only they’re very pretty to look at, but they must also be quite deadly, which she appreciates. Pretty things are fine, but she’d rather have something she can use to survive out there rather than an ornamental piece to put on a shelf and forget about the next day.

“Trade secret,” Josephine replies, proud of herself. She knew Missandei was going to appreciate this, and it turned out to be exactly as she predicted. Yes, she’s pretty great like that.

Missandei shakes her head, but the smile on her face doesn’t fade not even one bit. She kisses Josephine’s lips, and when they part, she mutters: “Watch me in battle, next time. I’ll make you proud.”

A faint blush colors Josephine’s cheeks at those words, because if there’s something she loves, that’s seeing Missandei fight; she truly is a spectacle out there, and their enemies are right to fear her.

None of this matters though, at least for now: Josephine has made Missandei happy, which in turn makes her happy as well.

 There are still some pieces of the puzzle missing, Josephine thinks: as much as she’s gotten quite close to Missandei, she still hasn’t uncovered everything about her, just as much as Missandei still hasn’t found out everything that there is to find out about her.

It’s like they’ve reached an unspoken agreement: you don’t arrive to a place like the Hamlet if you don’t have shades in your past, whether these are self-inflicted or imposed to you by an external force that you can’t fight.

The past matters, sure, but not as much as the present and, more importantly, the future, the same future that they’re going to shape for themselves, the same future for which they fight day by day, the same future that one day they’ll get to live.

[spritewrites]

birthday minutes

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: the Hargreeves siblings

Word Count: 2913

All eyes are trained on Ben’s wristwatch. “Okay, three… two… one… go!”

Allison rounds on Luther. “Okay, so what first?”

Luther’s grin takes up nearly all of his face. “Have you guys ever been to the museum?”

“Is that in the city?” Diego asks, his brow furrowing. Luther nods.

“By the library. I saw it on a map, and I found a pamphlet in the mail. They have an exhibit on airplanes all month.”

“That sounds boring,” Klaus groans, but Allison shoots him a look that shuts him up. He sighs. “I know, I know. But just wait until my turn, mine will be fun.”

–

Fifteen minutes and a bus ride later, seven pairs of loafers are marching single-file into the Argyle Technological Museum. Klaus decides he’d still rather be anywhere else, but Five is at his back pushing him along – “Move it, stupid, I want to see the rocket demonstration” – and Luther’s eyes are as big as saucers, so that’s something, he thinks.

They spend a little over an hour in the museum, grateful to finally be old enough that Mom doesn’t have to tag along. Five watches the rocket demonstration eight times, Allison finds a television hall that she drags Ben and Klaus into, and Vanya ends up spending most of the time in a movie that talks about the development of the automobile; she’s always wanted to learn to drive. Luther spends the whole time at the airplane exhibit, telling an unwilling Diego about all the different models. At one point, he even corrects the lecturer, which makes him very pleased.

Klaus isn’t very impressed with the television hall, but there’s one television that’s playing a station with live music that he gravitates towards. Ben ends up looking at one that’s playing the nature channel, and Allison looks at the enormous floor-to-ceiling pictures of movie stars. They’re much bigger than the posters she has in her room.

At one point Five points them toward an exhibition that has a picture of them, which is strange. They look at it for a few minutes, reading about the ways that their presence in the city has impacted the technology of the police force, but eventually they get too creeped out and have to leave. The long hallways of the museum take them all in different directions, scattering to all the little corners that hold never-before-seen treasures of information about the “real world.”

At five minutes to eleven, Five begins the Herculean task of rounding them all back up in the lobby. With just one minute to spare, they stare with enormous eyes as the little hands of Ben’s watch tick toward the hour. As the moment approaches, they begin the chant, with Klaus playfully pointing at each sibling when their number passes.

“Seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… go!”

Six pairs of eyes turn eagerly to Diego, who’s wearing a frighteningly mischievous smile. “Have you guys ever heard of go-karts?”

–

Vanya’s got her hands clapped over her eyes, screaming for her life. “Slow down, I’m gonna – HELP!” Klaus cackles, screeching around a corner, and Vanya lets out another yelp as she is shoved violently into the side of the car. “Klaus!”

“We can’t let them catch up!” her brother shouts over the whir of the engine, yanking the steering wheel just enough to cut off Diego and Ben, who are hot on their heels – er, tires. He laughs again when Diego lets out a frustrated yell.

“It’s my birthday, asshole!”

“It’s our birthday!” Klaus shoots back, sticking his tongue out.

Vanya sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, gripping the edge of the door with white knuckles. “When it’s my turn, we’re doing something more quieeeEET!” The kart spins nearly out of control, but Klaus has an iron grip on the wheel, and they skid to a halt inches from the wall that surrounds the track.

“Fuck,” Klaus mutters, and Vanya knows he’s not supposed to use that word, but the wild yell that Allison lets out as she and Five scream past them distracts her. Ben’s cursing too, on the other side of the track, and Diego’s whooping and laughing, and Luther (who’s too big to have a kart partner) keeps crashing into the rubber tires in the middle when he tries to turn. Klaus revs the engine again, and Vanya finds the small part of her that’s enjoying this and yanks it up from within, letting herself release a crazed shriek as they speed away.

At ten minutes to one, they all climb out, tip the go-kart operator with some wadded-up cash that Five has left over from last Christmas, each grab a piping-hot corn dog from a stand, and turn their red-cheeked, windblown faces to Allison.

“What’s next?”

–

Really, they should have known that Allison’s grin held too much mischief to be anything good. Diego nearly has to be dragged into her bedroom, kicking and screaming, but he knows the rules as well as any of them: whatever you choose, goes. For two hours, no matter what. And so, when Allison gathers them all on the floor of her room, in a neat little circle on the rug, she’s got them right where she wants them.

She looks each of her siblings dead in the eyes, lips quirking up into a smile as she gives Klaus a wink and asks slyly, “Who’s going first?”

Klaus’ hand shoots up in the air, and she sets to work. It’s hard with adopted siblings, since most of her palettes won’t suit them, but she figures she can scrounge up enough to cobble together a nice look for each of them. Luther puts on a record of a diva that Allison likes, and there in the pink glow of her room, she makes each of them beautiful.

Klaus gets his usual look and loves it instantly, of course, and Ben goes second, announcing that “he can do anything Klaus can do.” He actually comes out rather nicely, Allison thinks, with his little round cheeks stained with rouge. The rest of them aren’t so eager, so Vanya goes next, and Allison sweeps her bangs up and out of her eyes as part of the look; Vanya’s so shocked at the transformation, that she decides then and there that she’ll grow them out.

There’s a lot of shoving, but Luther ends up going next, and Allison revels in this because a) it’s Luther, and b) he’s got the lightest hair of any of them and she can use her chalk hair dye.

Diego nearly falls over giggling when she reveals the final product. “He looks like a troll doll!” he chokes out, but Allison fixes him with a glare.

“It’s my birthday, and I think he looks nice.” Luther turns bright red behind the makeup.

“It’s our birthday,” Five points out.

Allison glares. “Just for that, you’re going next.”

Five actually turns out okay, because Allison manages to highlight his dimples so that he looks like a model. He decides not to complain; after all, it’s her birthday.

Diego goes last, and Allison nearly can’t finish in time.

“Stop squirming.”

“It tickles,” he whines, scrunching up his nose as the brush passes over it again. Eventually, Allison has to get Luther and Ben to hold him down, but Luther’s so grumpy about Diego’s earlier comments that he keeps pinching his sides, making him yelp and whine even more.

“Diego, I swear, you’ve got to stop moving or this lipstick will get everywhere.”

“Luther’s – HEY! Luther’s torturing me, I’m gonna die!”

“Are not,” Luther mumbles, but he lets up enough for Allison to finish just as the clock downstairs alerts them that her two hours are up.

“Quick, go go go!” Five hisses, scrubbing at his face with a towel.

–

Klaus takes them all to a movie at the cinema, which they’ve never done before. They’ve seen some educational films as part of their schooling, and every now and then they’ll gather up enough quarters to rent a movie from the rental house down the street. They usually get horror movies that they can critique – “Eldritch tentacle creatures look nothing like that!” – but the look on Klaus’ face suggests that they’re not in the market for a horror movie.

Klaus makes sure that he buys the tickets, so the movie can be a “surprise.” That fills them all with a bit of trepidation, but their brother swiftly ushers them over to the concessions, and the almost overwhelmingly buttery smell of popcorn pulls any hesitation straight out of them. Armed with monstrously large buckets of salty goodness (and about a year’s supply of soda and Sour Patch Kids), they settle into plush oversized movie seats to see what Klaus has in store for them. Vanya looks the most nervous, but she always looks nervous, so the others don’t pay her any mind.

Ben isn’t so sure about the shit-eating grin on Klaus’ face as the previews roll, but whatever he’s anticipating, it’s nothing compared to when the film actually starts. The very second the others realize that Klaus has picked a rom-com – and not only that, a sappy rom-com – they all simultaneously groan and sink down in their seats.

“It’s the only one that was under the time limit,” Klaus protests by way of explanation, but the way that his bottom lip is caught gleefully between his teeth suggests otherwise. Luther decides then and there that as soon as this birthday is over, he’s making Klaus pay.

The movie isn’t hard to follow; it’s something about a girl with chronic amnesia and her fiancé who goes to war, or something. Maybe it’s the other way around. Five falls asleep halfway through, and the others have to nearly shake his brain out of his skull to stop his snoring. But when they all stumble out of the theater, blinking blearily into the mid-afternoon sun, Klaus looks pleased as punch. Nobody mentions that Diego’s eyes are suspiciously red and watery. After all, the twist about the love interest’s sister was pretty devastating.

Ben checks his watch. “Three minutes.”

Five rubs at his eyes, grumpy at being woken up. “We don’t need to wait. My birthday request is going to be all of you leaving me alone for two hours.”

Allison groans, shoving him. “Come on, for real.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to go home and take a nap and none of you assholes are gonna bother me for—”

“Five.”

He huffs. “Fine. Come on.”

–

“Really?” Vanya asks, her eyes wide as she steps over the sticky threshold.

“Shut up.” Five’s ears are red, but Klaus is bouncing on his toes.

“Awesome, Fiver,” he cries, making a mad dash for the first machine he sees.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in an arcade,” Allison says, pulling some money out of her pocket, “only seen it in movies. How’d you find this place?”

“I come here sometimes,” Five mumbles, and his shoulders are up by his ears, maybe to hide the flush.

Ben puts a hand on his shoulder, in the soft way that he always does. “What’s your favorite game?”

The redness around the tips of Five’s ears doesn’t quite go away, but his dimples appear for a heartbeat, and then he’s got Ben’s hand in his and is dragging him off toward a Skee-ball machine.

Luther finds a strength tester and spends forever trying to find the happy medium that would get him the tickets without breaking the machine, with Vanya cheering him on. Allison and Klaus play a memory game and nearly win twice, and Diego spends almost twenty dollars spinning a wheel to get about ten tickets, with which he buys a lollipop.

When they’ve almost exhausted their quarter supply, Ben tugs on enough sleeves to convince them to pile into the tiny photobooth in the corner of the arcade. The most reluctant, unsurprisingly, is Five.

“We have to commemorate your birthday!” Allison says, only half teasing.

“Our birthday,” Luther reminds her, and that gets Five mad enough to stomp his way through the curtain.

They almost don’t fit, between Luther’s big shoulders and Klaus’ bony limbs, but eventually they’re all squeezed in. Diego puts in a quarter.

“Say cheese!”

“No way,” Five begins to grumble, but then Allison’s skinny fingers are poking into his ribs, finding the space right between the two lowest ones that makes him giggle. When they print the picture, they all tease him about his big smile, ruffling his hair and poking at his cheeks until he’s swatting at their hands and threatening to put bugs in their beds.

“Shit!” Klaus cries suddenly. “Is it Ben’s turn yet?”

Ben’s eyes widen, and he checks his watch. “Two minutes over. Five stole my minutes!”

“You stole your own minutes with that picture,” Five snaps back, but Ben’s already headed out the door.

“Quick, come on, we don’t have much time before sunset!”

–

They get to the park just as the sun is slipping over the horizon, each munching on a street taco wrapped in thin foil in one hand, with a towering ice cream cone in the other – except Vanya, who had eaten her mint chocolate chip too fast and gotten a brain freeze and dropped it. Klaus skips ahead, only vaguely listening to Ben’s directions on where to go, and as such, when they reach the duck pond, he nearly falls in.

Ben’s pulling a bag of sliced grapes out of nowhere – “Bread makes them bloated,” he says, and the others nod because Ben knows what he’s doing – and before long they’re sitting around the pond, alternating between tossing the grapes to the ducks and eating them in little handfuls.

Luther befriends one of the ducks, and it’s cute for a while, until it gets greedy and starts chasing him around the lawn, quacking menacingly. (Luther’s screams of terror are hilarious to everyone, but Diego especially winds up coughing his lungs out on the ground, weak with laughter.)

Klaus does cartwheels down a hill, Allison and Vanya play chess on one of the park chess sets, and Ben shows Five how to hold your hand so the ducks can eat right out of it without nipping your fingers. Five isn’t especially keen on their beady little eyes, but he knows that he really did steal two of Ben’s birthday minutes, so he feeds the ducks as long as he can, even when their nibbling beaks tickle his palms dreadfully. Ben is fairly glowing with happiness, the last rays of light dancing in his eyes as they all help with spreading out a blanket on the wet grass. They sit in a big circle, identically cross-legged and straight-backed from years of practice.

“I’ll go first,” Allison says. “Once.”

“Upon.”

“A.”

“Time.”

“There.”

“Was.”

“A.”

“Dragon!”

“Who.”

“Lived.”

“In.”

“A.”

“Pineapple under the sea!”

“Klaus, that’s cheating.”

“But it’s Spongebob! Fine, fine, lived in a… dungeon.”

Over the course of the story, the dragon who lived in a dungeon saves a princess, eats a pizza, invents quantum mechanics, and has… adult interactions with a mango salesman. Eventually, the seven of them are laughing too hard to continue, and Five especially has tears of mirth streaking down his face.

“Okay, okay,” Ben gasps, clutching his stomach. “It’s almost Vanya’s turn.”

“Vanny?” Six heads swivel in her direction. Vanya flushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

–

“How is this different from a normal day?” Diego grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “We hear her play anyway—”

“Yeah, but you don’t listen,” Five hisses between gritted teeth. “And don’t be an asshole, it’s Vanya’s birthday.”

“Our birthday,” Diego mutters, but he falls silent when Vanya picks up her bow. She carefully plucks at the strings, tuning, as Klaus shoves a sharp elbow into Luther’s stomach.

“Move over.”

“Quit shoving.”

“I don’t think a twin bed was made for six,” Ben observes, kicking his legs over the side. “Not six superheroes, anyway.”

“I don’t think anything was made for six superheroes,” Five retorts, but Vanya’s clearing her throat.

“This one, um,” she starts, and her voice is a squeak. “This one’s Bach.”

When she starts, she starts softly, so as not to wake the other members of the house – it was past 9 p.m., after all – but gradually, Vanya picks up pace and volume, the music swelling out of her violin and washing over her captive audience. Her siblings are transfixed, eyes like saucers as her bow dips and twists over the instrument.

The Bach concerto ends, and almost immediately she’s on to a Brahms, then a Vivaldi, and when she glances up in the middle of her second Mendelssohn, she notices that her audience is gone. Well, not gone, exactly – fast asleep, cheeks flushed and mouths open, breathing deeply, fingers twisted into one another’s hair and clothing, clinging. She stops short, almost astonished, but realizes with a weight that she is also mind-numbingly tired. Maybe the split-time birthday system was fun, but it was also exhausting.

Vanya sets her violin back in its case, flicks off her lamp, kicks off her shoes, and clambers onto the bed, nestling herself into a spot between Five and Diego. She breaths out a sigh, and it feels like something within her releases a notch. Not much, but enough. She smiles, brushing Allison’s hair away from her sleeping face.

“Happy birthday, guys,” she whispers, and curls up among her siblings, content.

[bisexualkramer]

Something New (Day 5: Wedding/Proposal)

(read on ao3) (for @tmafemslashweek)

 Basira had found herself a nice spot in the corner after dinner, and was eagerly waiting for Melanie and Georgie to get on with dancing already, when Daisy found her.

             “Best seat in the house,” she said, by way of greeting. Basira nodded.

             “I still can’t believe they managed to get The Mechanisms for the wedding band,” Basira grumbled, fuming. “I thought they broke up years ago. Wonder if they’re fans.”

             Daisy glanced at her, confused. “What?”

             Basira nodded towards the musicians, who were slightly hidden behind a huge flower arrangement that had, only an hour earlier, sent Daisy into a sneezing fit that had lasted nearly ten minutes. She’d had to disappear to take her allergy medication, which meant that she definitely wasn’t supposed to be drinking the glass of whiskey she was currently putting to her lips. Basira decided not to press the issue.

             “The Mechanisms,” she said. “I know I made you listen to some of their stuff, back when we got together. They broke up years ago. I never got to see them live. Glad I will now, I guess, if they aren’t just playing covers. I wonder if they were fans of What the Ghost, or Ghost Hunt UK, or something.”

             Daisy was giving her an odd look, the same one that she had given Basira when she, stumblingly, had asked Daisy on their first date, and Daisy had replied that they’d already had four.

             “’Sira,” she said, “can you tell me where Jon is?”

             Basira frowned, then glanced over the sea of friends and relatives that had gathered in the small dining room for the reception. Skimming over their heads, she finally located Martin, engaged in conversation with four older women – aunts, at a guess. “Found him,” she said, and then paused, glancing around Martin’s shoulder-level and not finding any grumpy eldritch horrors hovering around him. “Wait, no,” she said, searching more thoroughly through the throngs of well-wishers and elderly relatives. “Where is he?”

             “Basira,” Daisy started, but Basira wasn’t listening.

             “Shit,” she said. “I can’t find him.”

             “’Sira –”

             “Where is he?”

             “Basira –”

             “If he’s taking a statement on Melanie and Georgie’s wedding night, I’m going to strangle him –”

             “Basira,” said, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of her panic. “Look at the band.”

             “What?” Basira asked, turning her head. “I don’t –”

             She paused. It was impossible. It was horrible. It was too terrible to even consider. But no – there, standing at the microphone, was Jonathan Sims, lead singer of The Mechanisms.

             “Oh, god,” she said, and Daisy snorted.

             “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

             “All this time, and it was him?”

             “If you were such a big fan, how did you not know the lead singer’s name?”

             “I listened to them in the archives all the time,” Basira said, “and he never said a thing!”

             Daisy offered Basira her whiskey. She drained the rest of it in one go.

             “Oh, look,” Daisy said, gesturing toward the crowd. “Martin’s coming. D’you think he knew?”

             “Do I think he knew that his boyfriend was the lead singer of my favorite band?” Basira hissed.

             Daisy’s smirk did nothing to help Basira’s rising anger. Martin’s kind and open smile, when he arrived, made it worse.

             “Hi,” he said, a bit breathless. “I’ve just escaped. They were asking me if I was married.”

             “What did you tell them?” Daisy asked.

             “Said I was a pouf, then panicked and ran over here. Why?”

             “It’s a gay wedding, Martin,” Daisy said. “I don’t think they’d freak out about that.”

             “Yeah, but I didn’t want them to ask when I was going to propose. Old women freak me out. What’s wrong with Basira?”

             Basira, who had been glaring at Jon for the entirety of Daisy and Martin’s conversation, huffed.

             “She’s upset that Jon is the lead singer of her favorite band and didn’t tell her.”

             “Ah,” he said. He gave Basira an apologetic smile. She pinched his arm. He squealed, but then he laughed and turned back to the band.

             As he did so, Jon stepped up to the microphone.

             “Hello, everyone,” he said, his face a bright red. Martin clapped, and Daisy wolf-whistled. He shot them both a glare. “If I could have your attention,” he said, “it’s time for the first dance.”

             Melanie and Georgie swept towards the center of the floor. Melanie handed her cane to her mother, then allowed herself to be led to the center of the dance floor. When they’d stopped, she bowed deeply to Georgie, pulling off her rather ridiculous top hat and sweeping it in an arc away from her. When she stood, Georgie stole the hat and put it on her own head. The two of them held each other firmly as the music began to play.

             “Really a beautiful wedding,” Daisy muttered.

             “It is, isn’t it,” Martin said, his voice breaking. Basira reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue.

             “Spectacular,” she said. “Does anyone know where I could get another drink?”

 …

               The middle of the dance floor was hot and loud. Jon and the band had played for about an hour before Georgie had started her “Ultimate Sapphic Wedding Playlist” and grabbed Jon by the waist for a dance. Daisy had wandered off somewhere, leaving Basira and Melanie dancing together in the corner. Melanie had lost her hat and her bow tie, somewhere along the way, and was now sporting Georgie’s veil in addition to the ostentatious blindfold she had insisted on wearing to the wedding.

             “Did you really have to have your first dance to ‘No-Eyed Girl?’” Basira asked.

             Melanie shrugged. “It’s funny,” she shouted over what Basira thought might be a One Direction song. Melanie frowned. “This playlist sort of got away from us, eh?”

             “It’s your first dance.”

             “We had Jon do it all acoustic-y and slow! Isn’t that enough?”

             “I guess,” Basira said. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”

             “I know,” said Melanie. “I’m thinking of taking the jacket off, but I don’t want to stop dancing.”

             “You look very dashing,” said Basira. “Very dapper.”

             “Thanks,” said Melanie, attempting a sort of modified Charlie Brown that nearly sent her tumbling into one of Georgie’s friends from college. “I wanted to look like one of those vintage lesbians, you know? Didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

             “You literally married a woman today, Melanie.”

             Melanie beamed. “I did, didn’t I? Where is she?”

             Basira craned her neck around an old man who was waving his arms around in a way that was, quite frankly, alarming. “I think she’s – no, wait – yeah, she’s doing the thing from Dirty Dancing.”

             “Aw, bless,” said Melanie. “I demand you take me to her!”

             “Demand?”

             “It’s my wedding, and I’m a bride, so I have the authority.”

             Basira rolled her eyes. “Right,” she said, and gripped Melanie’s arm, pulling her through the throngs of people to get to Georgie. As soon as Georgie noticed their approach, she flung her hands into the air, which was unfortunate, as she had been in the middle of dipping Jon. He landed squarely on his ass with an undignified yelp.

             “Melanie!” Georgie yelled.

             “That’s my wife!” Melanie yelled back, directly into Basira’s ear.

             “I know,” said Basira.

             “I love my wife!” Melanie shouted.

             “I think I got that,” said Basira.

             Basira released Melanie into Georgie’s arm and offered her assistance to Jon. He glared at Georgie.

             “Ow,” he moaned.

             Basira punched him in the arm.

             “Hey!” he shouted. “What the hell was that for?”

             “You didn’t tell me you were the lead singer for the Mechanisms, even though you specifically knew they were my favorite band, you absolute arsing –”

             “All right, all right, I’m sorry!” he said, dodging her subsequent swats. “I thought you knew!”

             “How on Earth would I have known that, Jonathan Sims, you complete –”

             “Hey,” said Martin, appearing at Basira’s shoulder. “Sorry, but can I please borrow my boyfriend? You can have him back if you want to abuse him later.”

             “Oi!”

             Basira sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Go be gross and gay somewhere else.”

             “Speaking of,” said Martin, grabbing Jon’s hand, “I think Daisy’s looking for you.”

             “Oh, thank God,” said Basira as Melanie and Georgie reappeared in her vision, trying to waltz to “Mama” by My Chemical Romance, which had just begun playing, and failing miserably. “I need to talk to someone normal.”

             Martin laughed. “She’s by the bar, I think,” he said, even as Jon began to tug him down and kiss him repeatedly on the cheek.

             Basira glanced at Jon. “You’re gross,” she said. He flipped her the bird.

             Daisy was, in fact, by the bar, having a weird half-conversation with the bartender, a young man who looked like he might be one of Georgie’s cousins. When she spotted Basira, she hopped up from her stool and gave the man a halfhearted salute. He sputtered something as a goodbye before being pulled away by a nice old lady who was wondering if he didn’t have anything stronger than wine, deary, and Basira and Daisy were left to themselves.

             “Our friends are idiots,” said Basira.

             Daisy laughed. “D’you want to dance?”

             “Oh god,” said Basira, but she let herself be pulled back to the dance floor.

 …

               “Last slow song of the night!” Georgie yelled into the abandoned microphone. “And then it’s just ‘Don’t Stop Believing,’ and then you all have to leave so Melanie and I can go and have sex!”

             The few friends and younger family members who remained cheered. Melanie’s grandmother wolf-whistled; Georgie’s cousin at the bar looked incredibly uncomfortable.

             The first few notes of a slow do-wop song began to play. Basira placed one hand on the small of Daisy’s back and pulled her close. Daisy leaned her head against Basira’s chest as the two of them began to sway.

             “I really love you, you know,” Daisy mumbled.

             Basira pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. “I love you, too,” she said. She squeezed Daisy’s hand. “Always will.”

             “I know,” said Daisy. “I keep asking myself how I got so lucky.”

             “Easy,” said Basira. “It was your incredible, incredible ass.”

             Daisy snorted. “Thanks.”

             “I just saw it, and it was like a black hole. I couldn’t escape.”

             “You’re very kind.”

             “I’m serious. I thought, ‘Oh my God, she’s got such a good ass. I can’t believe I’m going to sleep with her.’ And then I did.”

             Daisy pulled back and fixed Basira with a skeptical glare. Basira winked. Daisy pulled her down for a kiss. Her lips were soft and a bit dry, same as they always were, and she tasted of whiskey and wedding cake. When they parted, Daisy stroked her cheek.

             “Not to mention,” said Basira, “you’ve got abs for days.”

             “Sap,” said Daisy.

             “Yeah,” said Basira. She pulled Daisy back to her chest, and the two of them swayed together to the music. “Yeah, I reckon I am.”

[alteredphoenix]

First Impressions Chapter 50: The Stables Incident (WIP)(Heroes of the Storm)

A/N: So, some context in a nutshell: First Impressions is an out-of-order anthology series that has Sylvanas as the MC in a more Looney Tunes-style Nexus, a central hub where all universes converge and diverge at a singular point due to the Powers That Be that may or may not have summoned them here for purposes that are unknown to them. Except anyone that is brought to the Nexus is infected with a condition called the transition, aka the in-universe term for Out of Character; even the native-born Nexians are not exempt from this, and those that are pulled from their timeline never age, and if they should die they are very shortly brought back aka respawn.

I haven’t touched First Impressions in a long while, mainly because of work, doing WoW fics, and a lot of family drama IRL from 2018 onwards that nearly made me quit writing altogether. But I have felt the itch to get back at it again, even though Heroes of the Storm got its e-sports sector gutted and is running in a slow, lumbering maintenance mode. I’m not really sure if HotS still maintans some semblance of popularity as it did in the past year; I’ve been out of the loop for a while, although I’m sure the minor leagues and community-driven events are still ongoing.

Regardless, I’m posting this preview for archival purposes. I’m also posting it because this marks the start of the legendary Stables Incident, an event in which Sylvanas is accused of slaughtering innocent farm animals (at a place where people store their mounts for matches) out of nowhere. This chapter, however, shows what really happened (spoiler alert: Sylvanas didn’t do it, it was actually an accident, Hammer pressed the button on her tank by mistake during a squabble and, as a result, caused an intergalactic news circus over it).

I’m also posting this because: I love writing smartass-give-no-fucks!Sylvanas, and there must be more of it in the fandom.

-

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!”

The music kicked up in a roar so loud it threw Sylvanas off the bench onto the ground as though an invisible hand scooped up her from underneath and bowled her over. She awoke with a painful groan, twisting round onto her stomach to sit up on her elbows. Her ears twitched and swiveled, searching for the source of the music.

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!”

They flattened down against the sides of her head, shaking more from the vibrations that were causing the ground to quake, the bench to jump, and the squirrels and birds on their respective tree branches to bounce off in chattering, chirping squeaks and squawks than the force driving a jackhammer into her brain. Sylvanas looked behind her, in the direction of the auto body shop with its garage doors opened all the way.

A large, single-barreled cannon was poking its head out, connected to a red plated chassis on massive treads.

Sylvanas snarled, pushed to her feet, and stormed toward the garage.

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!”

“HAMMER!” Sylvanas yelled, but she could only hear the word in her head; it was like walking into a nightclub on full blast while the mother of all earthquakes, the Even Bigger One (bigger than San Andreas!), was bringing about The End Of The World As They Knew It. The tools on the walls racks and on the benches were rattling. The overhead fluorescent lights and spotlights were flickering and swinging back and forth. Darkness, even the fuel tanks way in the back were shaking in their cages! And Hammer…

Hammer was standing up out of the manhole, swaying and bumping and grinding like a turkey on antihistamines.

“HAMMER!” Sylvanas yelled again, feeling her throat work to outdo the noise. But Hammer still kept on dancing, oblivious to the world. The Banshee Queen glanced around the area. She saw a boombox from the Twenty-First Renaissance Era (which looked like a pyramidal A-track player) on a workbench...but no, nothing was coming out of it. She’d seen and heard it play before; whatever was running at the time would sound like it was being phoned in from a tin can in another municipal district from across an ocean. Then her eyes flicked behind the tank where, some distance away, were the ‘administrative’ offices that were reserved for quiet paperwork, faxing, phone calls, Internet, and maybe a few Jet Briggs’ beer and Easy Green joints were drunk and rolled in private enlightenment (that definition seemed to wax and wane over the years, apparently, but it usually ranged from a blissful stoner’s high to confusion and then to an agoraphobic fear of unseen, probably imaginative eldritch horrors that ranged between pink elephants, hyperrealistic eyes on the walls, and crab people with the heads of famous celebrities dead, alive, and not yet born crawling all over the place). Her eyes went to the ceiling where the speakers were located...but they shook as well, and offered no indication to her addled ears that the music was coming from them.

That left only one other place. “HAMMER, TURN THAT DOWN!”

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!” were the words Sylvanas could read from Hammer’s lips. “WHAT! WHAT! Doo doo-doo doo doo! Nuh-nuh-nuh! Doo doo-doo doo doo, doo-doo-doo--”

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!”

Sylvanas clenched her fists, her body shaking in time with the music. She mimicked taking a breath, reared back, and, calling upon the dark magic inside her, focused the font of power to nestle in her lungs and up her throat. Then she leaned forward and screamed. “HAAAAAMEEEERRRRR! TURN THAT THING OFF!”

The last syllable finally knocked Hammer out of her dance-induced stupor, blowing her back (and, Sylvanas thought morosely, not ass over tea kettle off the tank) from the amplified force. She caught herself, looked around, and saw the Banshee Queen glaring death and mayhem below her. “AW SNAP! SORRY, SORRY! EH, UH, G-GIVE ME ONE SEC! HOLD ON! WHERE’S THAT DAMN...AHA!” She doubled over, rooting around for the stereo, and when she found it turned it off.

Sylvanas had never found complete, total silence to be such an aether-given blessing until today. Like nirvana for mind, body, and soul. The quintessential out-of-body experience where one became attuned to nature and all that is not industrial.

Until I leave and she starts up again, she concluded. “You’re welcome,” Sylvanas drawled sardonically.

“Girl, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even know you were down there!” said Hammer. “Y-You weren’t waitin’ long, were ya?”

“I was waiting for an hour.”

Hammer clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Holy shit! Damn, girl, I’m really sorry--”

“Yeah, you should be. I actually just got here.”

“Eh? What? Really?”

“Yes, really!” Sylvanas said. “I was having a nice, simple rest on the bench outside and your stupid music woke me up! I swear to Darkness, woman, are you trying to move the Anchors out of position? Do you want to get us all killed?”

“N-Nah, girl, not at all! It’s just”--and Hammer flailed--”It’s such a nice day out, ya know? And it’s Sunday, which means all the auto shops are closed. An’ that also means I can work to mah heart’s content! No disruptions! No phone calls! No Kaijo suddenly tearing through the fabric of the space-time continuum! I can actually get stuff on time now, and at my own pace!”

“So I guess if I brought a motorcycle in, I’ll be expecting it by next spring as a belated Winter Veil present.”

“What? No! Girl, I ain’t that slow!”

“A tortoise, a snail, and a sloth could compete against you and they’d still win the race.”

“Hell no they wouldn’t! I have a tank, they don’t. I would just run ‘em over!”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes. “You are such a humanitarian it makes my heart bleed.”

“Well that’s what they’d get for messin’ with a siege tank!”

“You do realize there’s a noise ordnance of seventy-five feet, right?”

Hammer grinned wolfishly. “Ain’t no such thing as a noise ordnance if there’s no one around to complain about it.”

“Except for me,” said Sylvanas.

“Are ya really gonna tell on me?”

“No, but I’ll have ten reasons to tell you where to go if you do that again.”

“Ten reasons?” Hammer quirked a brow.. “What are they?”

“I punch you in the face with my left fist and then punch you with my right fist. If I add onto that, I’ll have ninety-nine reasons and a headbutt to make you quiet. Let’s also not forget I can just kick when you’re down, and by that point I’ll have lost count.”

“That’s a helluva lot of reasons to have...and money! Lots of money to pay for medical bills!”

“I can think of ways to accrue the cash and avoid jail time. You think this lackadaisical government can stop me?”

“Well,” Hammer said, digging a pinkie finger into her ear, “they are a little slow on the uptake. They ain’t exactly unnatural like we are. They’re more...what’s the word...normal.”

“You’re far from normal,” Sylvanas muttered.

“Eh? What?” Hammer asked.

“I said, what the hell are you working on that’s made you put the music on full blast?” Sylvanas lied smoothly. “What about it is so important you haven’t had the cops called on you yet?”

Hammer laughed uproariously. “This? This! My good friend! Is the latest in Jeetilopolis technological warfare!”

Sylvanas appraised it with a slow, long sweep of her eyes. “A single shot cannon?”

“Not just any single shot cannon! It’s a single shot cannon bought straight from the auction block all the way in Jeetilopolis! I spent just about my entire checking account on getting this thing, and spent almost the entirety of my savings on shipping and handling!”

“You can’t be that stupid.”

“What people think is stupid is actually smart! Besides, how’s a woman gonna get by in life if she can’t dip a little?”

“Hammer, spending every copper, silver, and gold on a cannon that is more than likely going to be faulty is not dipping a little. That’s jumping headfirst out of a plane without a parachute and hoping you time your angle just right so you can land in a lake that’ll be deep enough to sustain your impact and not kill you on the spot.”

“And when I hit rock bottom, will it be filled with gold?”

“Whatever it is, I won’t be joining you to find out.”

Hammer made an annoyed sound by blowing her lips. “Aw, c’mon! It’ll be fun!”

“Maybe for you, but I have no intentions of going into bankruptcy.”

“That ain’t gonna happen! You know why?”

“No,” Sylvanas drawled dryly. “Tell me why.”

“Because there was one other thing I got while I was in Jeetilopolis. One little thing that’ll give this baby here one helluva big wallop that’ll scare the bejeesus out o’ people! You wanna know what that is?”

“Not really.”

“Guess!”

Sylvanas sighed. “Do I have to--”

“Yeah! Come on! Take a guess!”

“Fine. Let me think.” Sylvanas feigned contemplation, making a show of looking away and tapping her chin. Then she snapped her fingers. “I got it. A brain.”

“Nuh-uh! Already have one,” said Hammer, and rapped her fists on her helmet for emphasis.

“Two brains.”

“No!”

“Three.”

“Now what am I supposed ta do with that many brains, eh? Play tsukkome and bokke with one while the other plays the straight man...brain...thing? Actually, on second thought,” Hammer added, thoughtfully, “I could probably palaver with them and get some pretty neat ideas for the tank. Yeah.” She nodded approval. “Yeah, that ain’t such a bad idea! But, uh, that ain’t what’s in this thing! It’s somethin’ better than a brain!”

“And that would be…?”

“Aether,” Hammer breathed. “I got me some gods be damned aether in a bottle for fifteen thousand gold! That’s cheap!”

Sylvanas gave her a blank stare, then nodded complete and total understanding. “Okay. So you get blitzed off the life-energy of the universe. It all makes sense now.”

“Did you just call me stupid?”

“No.” Sylvanas shook her head slowly, and drawled dryly, “No. Why would I ever say that?”

“’Cause this ain’t just the life energy of the universe!” Hammer slapped a hand down hard on the base of the manhole. “This is the answer to all my problems! This baby right here can store so much oomph in here...why, I think I might have just become a god!”

“Aether-based weaponry is banned from the League.”

Hammer grinned wickedly. “Not if they don’t find out! All’s I have to do is get the energy output tuned to its usual optimized settings and those old bats and goats in the Houses will be none the wiser! Ahahahahahaha! I’m a genius, Sylvanas!” she cried, throwing her arms up in the air. “A bonafide, grade-A genius!”

“Joy to the world, God is good,” Sylvanas grumbled, shaking her head.

“Hey, I’m thinkin’ of taking the tank out for a test firin’ out in the Shadowskirts in a bit; don’t want the authorities to catch wind of this! You wanna check ‘er out before I go?” 

Sylvanas shrugged. “Why not. Not like I have anything better to do.”

[cdc1345711]

OC Story: Academy Days 1

(Chip proposed to his Girlfriend Ari before the New Year awaiting their wedding in February of 2021 and despite what everyone says Chip is Romantic and what better way to show it than to Ari's job at Mandrake University as he steps out his car and checks the Directions on his Phone)

Chip:Mandrake Academy? Yep this is the place....now the effort of finding Ari's Office......oi vey"

(He searched around asking Students while inside Ari was hanging in the lounge with her fellow educators)

Ari:(Putting Creamer in her Coffee)Another Day Another Dollar or at least that's what the Board Says"

Owlferd:(Anthropology Teacher and Owl)I agree Ari least you're shift hasn't started yet"

Ari:It did but I got no clients till after Lunch"

Wanda:(Coed Coach/Entomology Teacher Wasp)My class is about to start....damn early risers"

Ari:Just like High School"

Connie:(Cone Headed Honors Science)Except most of the Students look like they're Held back a couple of years"

(Everyone laughs)

Wanda:So......anyone going to the Headmasters Party tonight?"

Owlferd:Only downside of Tenure of I got to go hohoho it's no trouble for me it's just my Husband doesn't wear much Formal Attire"

Connie:Speaking of 'Husbands' when are we gonna meet yours Ari"

Ari:First off Not my Husband YET we're engaged Second He's very busy and isn't a Formal Fellow as well"

Wanda:That so? Or is he fake?"

Ari:Not Fake he's real"

Wanda:Sure(says sarcastically)"

Moe:(Lorologist aka Primate Guy who studies lore comes in making a dash for the Coffee)Coffee coffee coffee need it......(gets his cup)"

Wanda:You okay Beu?"

Moe:Classes about to start and I SWEAR to every Gods if someone asks me another Eldritch Question I might bash my head in.....(takes a deep breath and exhales calming down)so what I miss?"

Owlferd:We're talking about the existance of Ari's Fiance"

Moe:Seriously? What are we in Middle School?"

Ari:Thank You Moe"

Moe:It's up there with 'My Boyfriend who lives in Canada' and 'My BF is my Cat'"

Ari:Okay that last one isn't real"

Connie:Like your Fiance...."

Ari:HE'S REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Owlferd:Well Ari you never showed us a picture of him......"

Wanda:Hell you Never gave us his name"

Ari:Well......its because we want our private life to be uuuh whats the word umm.....Private"

(Everyone Stares)

Ari:Alright......his name is Chip"

Moe:The Psychotic Metal Organic?"

Ari:He's more Sociopathic than Psychotic"

(Everyone looks at each other and all laugh)

Wanda:Seriously the Greatest Assassin ever is marrying you?"

Ari:Mmmmm"

(Bell Rings)

Moe:Time to Work.....we'll pick off later(phone ding)huh?(looks at it)oh shit turns out some Bearded Weirdo is on Campus"

Wanda:That......narrows it down to most of the Students here"

Moe:But he's not a student....probably just a Homeless Guy snuck in....again"

Owlferd:3rd time this week by my count"

Ari:Well if anything Security might catch him"

(Back to Chip he so far hasn't found anyone who knows where Ari's Office is until he stops to asks some Stoners)

Chip:Yo Potheads....."

Stoner 1 Grass Guy:Whoa man this is medicinal..."

Chip:Grass smoking Grass? Either Charles Coburn thinks this is original or he's REALLY bad at being funny"

Stoner 2:Whuuuut?"

Chip:Nothing anyone here knows a Miss Ari Zira? Or more importantly the location of her Office?"

Stoner 3:No"

Stoner 1:Why so you can Narc on us Fascist?"

Chip:I really don't give a shit I just.....wait those Grade A Mary Jay?"

Stoner 2:Yeah man....."

Stoner 1:We'd share but we don't share with cops...."

Chip:Not a cop just trying to find my Soon to be Wife"

Stoner 3:Likely story.....NARC!!!!!"

Chip:(Whispers as he face palms)Jesus Fucking Christ looks Shaggy Scooby and Dooby either you tell me where Your Psychologist is or I'm taking all your Weed"

Stoner 1:You and what Army man?"

(Chip just looks straight for a moment and in the next scene he's walking away with a box of Doobies whistling....how he can whistle without a mouth don't ask me bub it's my story-speaking of.....as he walks off he's stopped by a Axe Headed Guy A Gorilla and a Coyote)

Konk:Freeze you the Bearded Weirdo walking around the University?"

(Chip just looks at him confused)

Hatchet:Sorry there is like a billion Bearded Weirdos here....must of asked 50 people to show us their student ID"

Chip:Well.......Im not a student I'm just a Guy holding this Doobies I snagged from a couple of pot smoking retards...."

Colty:WAIT......that Pure Marijuana?"

(Chip eye widens......next minute everybody is smokin the Weed)

Konk:Man....they don't make this shit like this anymore...."

Chip:Very few thing my People can feel honestly"

Hatchet:So....why you here Chip?"

Chip:Surprise Visiting my Wife Ari Zira....."

Konk:The University Psychologist?"

Chip:Thank FUCKING God someone knows her"

Colty:Course we know her....helped me get over my Issues with my Mom"

Hatchet:Helped me get in touch in my inner self"

Konk:Helped me overcome my homicidal anger by finally coming out of the closet as a self confidant Bisexual Man"

(Everyone looks at him)

Konk:Yep I'm Bi(Changed subject)So you want us to help you find your Girl?"

Chip:Be Appreciated....."

Konk:Then let's go...."

(Other side Ari is visited by the Vice Headmaster Todd the Fox)

Todd:Ari how is the School's Best Psychologist?"

Ari:Kinda meh Morning but I'm better now. And you Vice Headmaster?"

Todd:Well.......I'M FREAKING OUT!!!!!!"THERE'S ANOTHER WEIRDO IN OUR CAMPUS......what if he's armed"

Ari:You shouldn't judge that person....for all we know he or she is probably hungry and as decent beings we should not be fearful but helpful towards the poor soul"

Todd:And THAT Ari is proof of your Tenure"

Ari:See there....wait SERIOUSLY???"

Todd:YES"

(Both Squeal in excitement but quickly calm down)

Ari:Finally I've worked hard for Tenure....."

Todd:And you deserve it a lot....(looks at the clock)oooh almost lunch care to join me?"

Ari:Why not?"

(The 2 leave for Lunch while Chip bonds with the Security Team)

Chip:This Campus has a BAR?"

Colty:Yeah it's called Barsco it's run by our Friend Rosco....if you plan to stay longer we can take you there"

Chip:Really?"

Hatchet:He has booze for everybody Even Lighter Fluid and Gasoline for Metal Organics"

Chip:Sounds like my kinda Guy"

Konk:Yo wanna get some grub first I'm hungry...."

Hatchet:Munchies Man....."

Chip:They're a Cunt"

(As they Chat Ari and Todd were walking to the Cafeteria as they bump into......)

Ari/Todd:MR.MANDERS?"

Mr.Manders:Hoho Hello Todd and Ari....(he's holding a tray of A Burger Tater Tots and a Sparkling Ice)Just in luck they're serving Bean Burgers my Favorite...."

Ari:That's great Headmaster...."

Mr.Manders:So Ari can I expect to see you at my Party tonight?"

Ari:Oh idk Sir I gotta check my schedule to see if it's not booked"

Mr.Manders:Oh I understand Duties come first you know....btw have you heard the news?"

Ari:No Sir(she lies thinking he's about to say she's getting Tenure which will up her pay making sure to help Chip with their Wedding)what is it?"

(Gestures them to move forward as they do and whispers to them)

Mr.Manders:The Security team found the Bearded Fellow who snuck in on Campus....."

Ari:Oh(feeling a bit dissappointed)well least they got him out safely"

Mr.Manders:Actually they didn't...."

Todd:They beat him up?"

Mr.Manders:No....hes still here"

(They turn to see the cart)

Ari:(In Horror)Oh No"

Chip:ARI!!!!!!(walks up and hugs her)Been trying to find you all damn day so far none of the students know your office....I had to beat up a bunch of Stoners as I 'took' their Cush and met my New Best Friends right here"

Konk/Hatchet/Colty: Hi Ari"

Ari:Hi Boys(to Chip)Why are you here....'Honey'?"

Chip:I wanted to surprise you by Romantically coming to your work"

MrMander:Mhmm(coughs as the Other Faculty joins in)Ari mind introducing us to your friend"

Ari:(Gulps)Right Mr.Manders Todd and Everyone this is Chip my Fiance....."

Wanda:(Whispers)Holy Shit she wasn't lying"

Todd:Well even though it's nice to meet you Mr......Chip was it? You are however tresspassing on University grounds"

Chip:Don't get your Panties in a twist Nick Wilde I'm here for Ari"

Todd:Why I never...."

(Just then someones bag was stolen)

Girl:HELP!!!!!"

Mr.Manders:THIEF!!!!!!"

Todd:Quick securi....."

(And in a flash Chip catches the thief and pummels him as he realizes....)

Chip:Holy Shit you're the Stoner Kid"

Stoner 1:You stole my livelihood man....gad to earn green somehow...."

Chip:Yeah yeah....(knocks him out)"

Mr.Manders:(Clapping)My My what skills you were amazing"

Chip:Twas nothing sir"

Mr.Manders:'Twas' ooh Ari your Future Husband is quite a sophisticant"

Chip:I try...."

Mr.Manders:Would you like to come to my Party Tonight? It's to Celebrate the Anniversary of our University being the first to integrate Metal Organics it will be catered and I'll announce a New Tunre Employee"

Chip:Huh can't say no to that plus free dinner I'll be there"

Mr.Manders:Oh Splendid"

Moe:Uuuuh Ari......"

Wasp:You okay Girl?"

Ari:(Grinding her teeth and says angrily)Never......Better"

Chip:Hey Hon I'm gonna start getting ready see you at home(kisses her cheek)"

Owlferd:Nice Bod...nothing on my Man though"

(Night of the Party And Chip and Ari are wearing their Best Formal Clothes)

Chip:Hmmm Swanky"

Ari:(Stops him)Look Chip this is not just some fancy party by your Rich Friends or by the Lewd Crew this is my Job with my Coworkers and Boss so please please PLEASE be on your best behavior alright?"

Chip:(Looks straight at her)Okay what's up you're really on edge?"

Ari:I'm not on edge it's nothing...."

Chip:Let's cut the Bullshit Ari you know we're on the same scale when it comes to smarts"

Ari:Dammit alright.....I...I was told I might get Tenure...by Todd...."

Chip:Fox Boy? Okay(thinking of something)"

(They Enter and Ari meets up with Wanda and Moe)

Ari:Hello Everyone....Wanda Nice sashes"

Wanda:Thanks Bug People don't usually wear clothes but even we can look pretty"

Chip:Nice Suit"

Moe:Right back at ya"

Konk:HEY CHIP"

Chip:KONK you made it"

Konk:Wouldn't miss it"

Chip:Where are the rest of the Guys?"

Konk:At Barscos. They ain't the Formal Types"

Chip:Heh the more I know about them the More I like them"

Owlferd:Hoohoo Hello Ari(accompanied by his Husband)Chip this is my Husband....."

Chip:BASILISK......"

Basilisk:CHIP......"

Chip:You old Son of a Bitch"

Owlferd:Seems you both know each other"

Chip:Shared a Mission once his Eyes of Penance whew Powerful Shit"

Basilisk:Had to be to stop those Humanoids....(to Owlferd)Later Hon"

Todd:(With his Rabbit GF Lydia)Ari hi...."

Chip:('Hmm guess I was wrong')Bunny GF? Goddamn you are Nick Wilde"

lydia:He tries"

Todd:Hopefully things go smoothly without(looks at Chip)interruptions"

Chip:(Just Grunts)"

Mr.Manders:(On Stage)Good to see all you lovely faces here Tonight"

Konk:This will take a while(drinks his flask)want some?"

Chip:Can't taste booze but what the Hell(drinks some) anyone else?"

Moe:Yo"

Mr.Manders:My Grandfather Founded this University in 1945 and My Father was the first to integrate with Metal Organics in 1958..."

Chip:Apparently his Family has a Jesus complex.....which Ironic for me...."

Wanda:How come?"

(Chip reveals his Star of David Necklace)

Wanda:Oh okay"

Mr.Manders:Now without further adieu our new Tenure is.......Ari Zira"

Ari:YES.....I mean yes"

Todd:Yay Ari"

Wanda:You go Girl"

Mr.Manders:Congratulations Ari and I'm also proud to pronounce our newest employee...."

Ari:What......"

Mr.Manders:I was impressed with his skills this morning and while he left to prepare for Tonight I asked him......would you like to be in our University's Security....followed by his yes.....Mr.Chip Cosmas"

Ari:Que..?"

Chip:Wanted it to be a surprise....now we can see more of each other"

Ari:But....your Assassin Business....the Training of the Next Warriors?"

Chip:I thought of spending more time with my Future Wife...."

Ari:Oooh(walks up to the drinks and start drinking)"

Chip:Why she upset? She got Tenure"

Todd:You really can't see it can you?"

Chip:You got something to say say it Foxy"

Todd:I doubt you can grasp it"

Chip:(Wanting to punch but holds back)Not worth it"

Todd:Good to hold back Huh Meto....."

(Chip heard what he said and as quick as lightning punches Todd slamming him on the table)

Ari:What the Hell?"

(Todd tried to fight back but Chip was better as he beat Todd up)

Ari:CHIP STOP IT....STOP IT NOW(holds him off)You seriously can't go one night without being an Angry Animal can you not even for me? And to my friend and Coworker?"

Chip:Ari you don't understand....."

Ari:What I don't understand is why you couldn't do this one thing ONE FUCKING THING for me....just NOT BE YOU!!!!!"

Chip:Ari he's trying to get with you.....by making me the bad guy"

Todd:What? No I'm not Ari is my Friend and I love Lydia you psycho....."

(And as Chip heard his Voice his words were true)

Chip:Then why where you an Asshole to me?"

Todd:Because you're image isn't right for Ari....shes sophisticated and intelligent but you're a Violent Monster....."

Chip:You don't know a Fucking thing about me.....Ari...."

Ari:Chip please.....I just.....dont wanna see you now....(she cries)"

(Chip leaves looking back and Konk goes to Ari saying)

Konk:He had another reason Ari....."

(At Barscos the Campus Bar Chip is drowning his sorrows in Arsenic and Gin)

Chip:Another Round....."

Rosco:Sure Pal.....(puts in the Lighter Fluid Soda Water and Gin)"

Chip:Leave the Cannister"

Rosco:Whoa Bud I can't just(Chip stares at him angrily) eh Fuck it(leaves the Lighter Fluid)"

(Second later Ari shows up and sits next to Chip)

Chip:Hey....."

Ari:Hey........"

Chip:I really Fucked shit up didn't I?"

Ari:Yes......."

Chip:Guess I'm fired?"

Ari:Could've......"

Chip:What?"

Ari:Konk told me what Todd said to make you Angry......seems I was the one who Fucked Shit Up in a metaphorical sense...."

Chip:You were caught in a misunderstanding that's all.....didn't mean your were wrong....I got Angry and beat the living shit out of your friends at work......"

Ari:Well after he used that Racist Slur He's knocked down a few pegs.....sigh it was true I thought you'd jeopardize my chances of Tenure"

Chip:Why you so hellbent on this Tenure Shit?"

Ari:It's because....I wanted the pay bonus to help pay for our wedding"

Chip:Ari I said I got it...."

Ari:Chip we're about to spend our lives together....that means we're a team and we should be there for each other"

Chip:Hmm......that Fox was right about one thing....you're smart as Fuck"

(Mr.Manders arrives)

Chip:Oh Headmaster.....sorry for earlier....I lost my shit"

Mr.Manders:I heard what Todd said he's taking a HR Seminar so he can be more open minded as for the party well.....since the Gym is a mess(the Caterers come in with the Food)Guess we can move it to this fine Bar...with Owner's permission"

Rosco:Got my Approval Boss"

(And so the night that started off unexpected turned into something better as Chip and Ari's Bonds grew stronger for it. The Next Day)

Ari:Ready for your First day?"

Chip:Hell Yeah I am(Walks to the Security Office and looks around ready for this New Chapter in his Life"

THE END