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constantlydiscombobulated · 4 years

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charlie weasley x reader fic - a weasley christmas:

The third Christmas after the Battle of Hogwarts was different, the first two were hard. The first was so soon after the events which occurred, the second held a bit of distance and the third, this Christmas, is when people had finally let themselves relax and get back to normal. Since the war you had returned to your training to be a healer, in fact you had completed it. You were getting a couple of years’ experiences before jetting off to do something spontaneous with your skills.

Your Christmas had always been the same, you were one of the many bodies at the Weasley abode; a background character and accomplice of Charlie who you shamelessly flirted with to make his face turn the beetroot shade that you were highly entertained by. He was a ginger so of course he easily blushed.

So, this year, when you appeared outside the warm, familiar home in which you would spend the next few days you could finally feel the tension behind your shoulders relax. You were eight years older than Ginny, seven years older than Hermione yet you knew it was tradition you would be in quarters with them.

You and Charlie kept things long distance, which in hindsight wasn’t the best choice but when the second month of next year finished you were transferring to the Dragon Sanctuary in Romania to work as head healer, coincidentally where Charlie worked, yet none of the Weasley clan knew of this yet.

You had sent a bag of things to the burrow the night before, so you assumed someone had stowed it away where you were sleeping for the next few days. It was Christmas eve and as per usual you were the last to arrive. It was just shy of 8pm when you left St. Mungo’s as each year you drew the short straw and did the second to worst shift.

Your feet crunched against the moist yet crisp grass below your feet. The winters always hit the burrow hard, a feature you loved the most. You stepped over a couple of sleeping gnomes, before glancing up at the stars – they always shone so brightly, something unusual for the location of the house. You opened the unlocked door and slipped right in.

As tradition plays, the Weasley’s would be drinking eggnog, sharing stories of the year and blasting obnoxiously loud Christmas music. So, when you entered, you weren’t even noticed, barely and not immediately by Charlie. He looked up after he frowned at his watch, you presumed it was because you were a little later then you had informed him. He slipped from the crowd of gingers and noise to meet you in the kitchen.

You still wore your scrubs and white jacket with your name embroidered on the pocket. You had charmed a small embroidered dragon onto it last week when there was a quiet spell at mungo’s. you smiled underneath the dim light in the kitchen, seeing a plate of food on the table.

‘y/n’ it read in molly’s cursive scrawl. You smiled at the gesture, it dawning upon you that you were indeed starving. Charlie kissed your forehead before sitting across from you. He had been in England for a few days, but you had pretty much worked back to back shifts in order to get this time off over Christmas.

“how was your day, love?” he asked, you had just taken a huge bite into a sandwich from the plate, chewing and swallowing with haste in order to reply.

“busy, the bags under my eyes are darker than your soul”

“didn’t think I had a soul” he retorts, you smirk at him. Charlie was always in favour of a well-timed ginger joke, “they’re torturing you because they know their best healer is ditching in a couple of months”

“yeah, ditching for a Weasley of all people” you joked, he mocked offence before sinking back into light conversation.

“you might be tired but you’re still the most beautiful girl this side of Europe” he comments, sipping from your glass of pumpkin juice.

“if the other beautiful girl is Sofia, I’m going to kick you in the shins”

“she’s a dragon love, you are the most gorgeous human” he adds, laughing a little on the end.

“I’ll forgive you if you stop drinking my pumpkin juice.” He chuckles, drinking the rest from the glass before placing it beside the plate you were eating from. “you’ve got more scars” you notice, gesturing to his hand.

“don’t tell mum but I’ve got a couple more inked dragons too” your face smiled in delight; he had told you in letters he had planned to, but you hadn’t had much time to write these past two weeks.

“as long as your bedroom door is unlocked tonight and I can slip in, I’ll promise you the world” he rolled his eyes but nodded.

“how is Sharon?” he asked, “the battle-axe”

“she’s off my case now the festive season has been bestowed upon us. She didn’t want to get me in secret Santa again after last year”

“what--?”

“I gave her some of the wizard wheezes, the custard creams I think.” You laughed, your connections to the Weasley’s almost gets you excluded from secret Santa every year. “I got you a present” you claim, changing the subject. His ears perked up at your comment, he hummed in response, “a date. March 25th. We’re gonna elope.” You stated, your voice quiet not wanting to be overheard. Charlie beamed at you, about to take your hand in his when a nonchalant voice filled the room.

“late as usual” George calls, tackling you in a hug as you chewed the remainder of the sandwich in your mouth. You hugged him back briefly, Charlie, jealous at the hug, watched the exchange. “why didn’t you shout?” he quizzed.

“was Hank Marvin, Weasley, Charlie just sat down to pester me” you teased, “anyway, I’m showering soon, I’m still in my scrubs” you complained, gesturing to your clothes.

“still a fine piece” Charlie joked, this obnoxious flirting had been apparent since you met Charlie, Bill had originally asked you home for Christmas seven years ago. You had spilt fire whiskey over him in the three broom sticks and you were instant friends.

“oh Charlie” you cooed, dramatically holding your head against your head, “you spoil me with your sweetness and love” you had put on a love-sick voice which only made the men in the room snort. “Char, sort the shower for me. I don’t wanna find a gnome or a Weasley in there when I’m starkers” you asked, he smiled politely and nodded. You followed him upstairs picking up some things from Ginny’s room to use in the shower or drop off in Charlie’s room.

He sorted the bathroom out for you, surveying it for ghosts or gnomes. You walked in changed from your work gear, dressed in a silk, high rising gown, barely tied around your body. His gaze glanced at you and quickly back to the shower, his hand beneath the running water to check it was at your preferred temperature.

“this is new” he stated, you nodded shyly shutting and locking the bathroom door behind you. You hung the gown on the hook on the back of the door, he sat on the closed toilet seat your pyjamas on his lap. He watched your every move as you stepped into the shower. His face was flushed, his body language restraint.

“you can come in you know” you called, to which he followed through on quicker than the speed of light. His body pressed against yours, he just hugged you from behind nuzzling his face into your shoulder. You continued your actions of showers, trying to disturb Charlie as little as possible.

“stop doing that” he whined, you were confused you were shaving your legs and putting some soothing shower gel on them to prevent a rash. You hadn’t realised you had been creating friction. You turned to face him, he looked like he did in his most pure form. His glasses had been discarded on the windowsill by the shower, his long hair stuck to his wet form. You kissed him, begging to just hold him.

Charlie had visited ‘home’ a month ago, but the first few nights he was back was always the worst; you both were clingy, sleepy and horny for each other. The con of long distance, I guess.

Things escalated quickly, he had you against his chest, legs wrapped around his waist and against the tiled wall. It was antics like this which would get the two of you caught but you couldn’t find it in yourselves to care.

Once the deed was all said and done, you rinsed yourself off and got out the shower. Charlie borrowed the towel you had brought in to dry his body with before putting his tartan pyjamas and Weasley jumper on; he only wore this arrangement as you loved it on his so much. You slipped on a pair of shorts and one of Bill’s old Weasley jumpers dating back to his time at Hogwarts. He had donated it to you the first year you spent here so you would feel like you belonged here.

The year you met Charlie.

You engulfed Charlie for one last hug before sneaking out the bathroom separately. You had disapparating into the girl’s bedroom to put some things away when you spotted the hickey on your neck. You audibly groaned, readying yourself to playfully punch Charlie on the arm when you next saw him – yet, it was nothing a glamour charm couldn’t hide. Over the years you had become quite skilful at this charm, the thing was you sort of liked the thrill that came with being with Charlie without his family knowing.

It meant three things: one, that it was private and yours – his family couldn’t meddle, two, the sex was fantastic when you had to slip it in wherever you could and three, he could come home for a few days and not have to see his family which meant your whole house smelt of him.

You slipped downstairs, intending on getting a mug of Molly’s famous hot chocolate with the bit of baileys in it served only at Christmas. It was the highlight of your day – what got you through the shift.

When you appeared downstairs, everyone cozied up by the fire there was an empty seat next to Bill and Fleur, a full and steaming mug of hot chocolate waiting for you. When you sat down, Bill dove in for a hug.

“how’s my favourite short arse?” he called, watching as you brunt your tongue on the hot chocolate.

“I’m great” you sighed contently. He smiled, “any news?” you asked him, he shook his head.

“nothing exciting. I spoke to you last week.” He joked, “I think I’ve got a new case in Chad in the new year. Gotta do a risk assessment and see if it’s worth relocating for three months or handing it over to another curse breaker.” He replied, “someone with less to lose” you nodded.

“I got my final date” you offered, he looked intrigued, “end of February. don’t know where I’m getting off to though” you added, smirking to yourself a little.

“anywhere you thinking?” Charlie asked, butting into the conversation.

“France?” Fleur joked, “you would ‘ate it there” she laughed.

“I was thinking Romania, Charlie needs someone to annoy him 24/7 and I would have complete access” you teased, Charlie scoffed. Bill and Fleur just smiled, looking at each other knowingly.

“oh, come on y/n, how long you keeping this gig up?” Bill laughed, but said it softly enough to avoid other listening ears, “you can’t act like there’s nothing going on here”

“why?” You asked, knowing full well why not.

“why?” Bill cackled, “because when I visited you randomly three months, I walked in on you shagging my brother on your couch” he whispered, “I saw way too much, the idle gossip would’ve been enough.”

You blushed a little, Bill had indeed walked in on you and Charlie. It was hours after Charlie had arrived in the country; he hadn’t told his family of his return, specifically wanting to spend the long weekend he had off with you.

You were originally just catching up with a couple mugs of tea but as things did, one thing lead to another and Charlie was balls deep in between your legs barely dressed when his brother walked in saying,

“wotcher y/n/n, was in the area thought I’d stop in!” Bill had seen what was happening and it only took him a fraction of a second to work out what was happening. Of course, the hair indicated it was one of his brother’s, but it was the huge scarring and dragon tattoo that told him it was the sibling that was supposed to be halfway across the world.

You both scrambled apart, not getting the satisfaction you so craved. Charlie pulled a pair of jogging bottoms on; you pulled a pair of knickers on and his t-shirt down. He sat beside you on the couch, his hand rested on your bare thigh.

“I honestly have no words” Bill laughed as he sat on the arm of the armchair in your flat. “how long has this been going on?” he asked, clearly amused by the whole ordeal. You shrugged, working it out in your head, but Charlie answered first:

“16 months” he called; it had warmed your heart that he knew.

“so, what is it? You dating or just hooking up?” Bill asked, amused at your mortified look.

“dating” you replied, your voice small. “fucking hell Bill. I’m kind of glad it was you and not anyone else in your family” you laughed, as if you didn’t laugh, you’d be in despair.

“who else would it be?” Charlie asked amused, unaware of the drop in visits his family often made.

“your mother.” You called; his face paled at the thought. He could imagine the lecture; he could imagine the hurt.

“don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone. Fleur will find out though, she always does.” Bill mused, “but this, this is brilliant. Just don’t tell mum until you’re ready for the marriage conversation.” He joked, smiling.

“you staying long?” Charlie asked, taking a sip from his cold tea, “make you a cuppa if you want” he added.

“I was gonna stay for lunch, but you guys seemed busy” he laughed, “I can’t believe I’ve just seen it. Oh merlin, my eyes.” He whined, but still laughing. Bill stood up to leave your flat, this time with Charlie following behind to lock your door, although Bill would not be coming back.

“we’ll pop round later?” Charlie asked, Bill nodded, “we’ll send a Patronus we don’t want this to happen again” he joked, his brother hugged him briefly, before patting him on the back.

“it’ll be sweeter if you wrap your peter” he sang, “don’t want any grandkids do we” he teased before disappearing, Charlie scoffed before getting back to what was interrupted.

Once you had been greeted by everyone, most made their way up the wooden hill. Bill and Fleur had helped to convert the attic, so they had somewhere to sleep without Charlie being present. You hugged Molly and bid her a goodnight, promising to catch up properly tomorrow while helping her with the dinner. After last year, Hermione was not allowed in the kitchen. You watched as Charlie and Bill walked up the stairs, Charlie sending an obvious wink your way. George watched from his door across the hall and grinned. The dynamic you and Charlie held almost created as much chaos as Fred did just by breathing. It wasn’t truly Christmas until you and his strange older brother flirted senseless.

You disappear behind the door, the two significantly younger women lay in their beds, idly chatting about their boyfriends. It amused you had petty their chatter could be.

“so, y/n, anyone new on the scene”

“nothing new, still the same old thing” you comment, avoiding their question. “I’ve started meditating so if you don’t see me when you wake up, that’s where I’ll be” you bluffed, but they seemed to buy it. That was an advantage of being so much older; the younglings didn’t suspect a thing, all except George and that is only because last Christmas he had spotted the mud on Charlie’s knees and made one off hand joke that stuck with you. You tuck yourself into bed, waiting for the shallow breathing from the women before sneaking out. You tiptoed quietly, having learnt which planks not to stand on over years of experience, you crept upstairs – past Percy’s room, before opened the door to Charlie’s room which was left ajar.

“was starting to think you weren’t coming” he whined, you scoffed taking off your layers and climbing into bed with him – quickly settling under the covers.

“they kept gossiping about Harry and Ron” you started,

“please don’t tell me about my brother and sister sex life. They’re still babies to me” he whined, nuzzling his face into your hair. The single bed you lay in wasn’t ideal but with you being so small in comparison to Charlie ‘lanky fuck’ Weasley it worked well enough.

“I didn’t listen in long enough, pretended to sleep so they couldn’t interrogate me.” You sighed; you had watched the golden trio grow up.

The following morning Charlie woke you by accident, you knew he would. It was 6 am, he was on Romanian time, so he was wide awake. but him waking you by pressing soft kisses on your neck and collar bone wasn’t something to get you complaining.

“mornin’ love” he called when he felt you stir beneath him. You lay like that for another ten minutes; he rested his head on your chest listening to your slow heartbeat. “Merry Christmas” he added, whispering to make sure you weren’t heard.

You climbed out of his bed, putting a jumper back on. “we’ll continue this tonight” you told him leaving the room before anyone else awoke. You hopped downstairs knowing Molly would be down soon to begin the food preparations.

You were mixing the ingredients for home-made stuffing when a pair of familiar arms wrap themselves around your torso, a warm face against your neck. They squeezed you when you moved on to make a cup of tea. This was a usual routine in the mornings you spent with Charlie. He sprung away from you settling in a chair by the table when he heard the creaking of the stairs.

It was Molly, who was yet to come around and realise the two bodies in the kitchen, when she did, she sat with the cup of tea you had just poured for her. She was talking with Charlie as you filled the sink with warm water to peel the potatoes; you tried to grab the paper bag of potatoes off the ground, but you couldn’t seem to get a good grip and continued to drop it.

You hadn’t noticed Charlie come over to help you, until his hand grazed behind you to move you and do the heavy lifting for you.

“didn’t realise I was getting a gun show this morning char- “you comment, your usual flirting wasn’t acknowledged by Molly.

“I usually charge for private shows, but for you – they’re free” he said and winked.

“if you wanted me in your bed Charlie all you had to do was ask” you retort, his cheeks red after his bark of laughter.

“what you doing tonight, say, 2 am?” he snorts, knowing his mother is listening.

“I’ll be waiting for my secret lover in the garden” you tease, “he’s tall, ginger, athletic and dashing”

“sounds a lot like me” he flirts, grinning.

“shame I’m meeting Bill. He knows how to treat a woman” you joke back, biting your lip wondering what he’s gonna say.

“that why you’re wearing my jumper” he snorts, you look down to see that you had indeed picked up the wrong jumper when you dressed in the dark.

“I can take it off if you preferred?” you ask, pausing for a second or two, “might need a little help with that, any takers?” you asked. He was searching for something to say but instead came closer, peering at his mother who had tuned the two of you out and busied herself with meaningful tasks.

“you need to stop” he whined, his tone barely above a whisper. “between the flirting and you dressed like that— “he comments, blushing blood red.

“and miss you blush? Not a chance.” You push against his bare chest, “see you round boy wonder” he frowns, before disapparating upstairs.

The festivities fill the day, between gift giving when everyone made it downstairs and fire whiskey in the evening it was a success. As per usual, the Weasley clan congregated around the open fireplace, eating mince pies to sober up slightly.

You sat and watched the room, there was always something going on. right now, for instance, Hermione was in the process of hitting Ron. You didn’t know why.

“Ronald! If you do that again I will—”

“you’ll what ‘mione?” Called Ginny, loving to tease the couple.

“Ron I’d pack it in if you want her to jingle your bells” you comment before Hermione could reply. Her face went red not expecting that comment from you of all people. Ron and Hermione were new to sneaking about; somehow Harry and Ginny had the art down but the other two had not – and when they snuck off someone always walked in or asked them if they had a good time.

Hermione had a smart mouth – something she had learnt from spending too much time with Ginny, yet she didn’t have a smooth comeback, just a flustered look on her face. This made everyone roar with laughter.

“this is why I love it when you and Charlie come home” George laughs, “you know you can come alone you don’t just have to come with Charlie”

“if I don’t come with Charlie who am I going to flirt with? I tried Percy last year and he fainted” you chuckled. You turned to Charlie and asked, “I’m getting a candy cane from the kitchen, you want one?” he shook his head.

When you returned from the kitchen you ran into Charlie who had been changing the vinyl on the gramophone. The whole house cheered from their seats, initially you were puzzled. You laughed when you realised you had been caught under the mistletoe. You didn’t object but rolled your eyes. You had been caught a few times with a few of Molly’s boys: the first time was with Bill and he kissed your forehead, the second with George who kissed your cheek and now with Charlie.

“come ‘ere then” he muttered and pulled you close to him, giving you a chaste kiss. The fire whiskey flavour lingering on his lips. You pulled away and laughed, you and Charlie returned to your seats with no change in your behaviour. George looked at you from across the room holding an unsure look.

You demolished your candy cane when a few people decided to turn in; Charlie went first, a usual routine, then Percy, then George who was sick of being a singleton in the room, then the youngsters. Bill, Fleur, Molly, Arthur and you remained. You began to put away the dishes that had been left to air dry so no one would have to do them in the morning. You had sent everyone else up, promising to blow out the candles when you headed up yourself.

On the way up you successfully got to the third floor; Molly and Arthur’s room on one side of the hall and Charlie’s on the other. You walked into the hallway between the two when Molly caught you.

“y/n dear, are you alright?” she asked, on her way to the bathroom.

“yeah, just heading to the balcony for some air before bed” you replied, hoping she’d leave you to it.

“nonsense dear, you’ll catch a cold dressed like that.” She cooed, making it a mission of hers to escort you back to your shared room. You told her you didn’t need her to assist you, being 27 and all, but she dismissed you. Once she was sure you were settled in bed with an open window, she closed the door and turned off the light in the hallway.

You could hear her footsteps for another half an hour at least knowing that there was no chance of sneaking up tonight. You had fallen asleep in wake of waiting for her to sleep but that chance never came in your consciousness.

You had only realised the lack of sneaking around the following morning when you awoke at the crack of dawn. On your bed however was an old black hoodie, it was singed around the cuffed sleeves and when you brought it to your nose it smelt it you realised that it was Charlie’s. he must have snuck in when you didn’t come, leaving it behind when he saw you sleeping. His cologne was all over it, not too much that it smelt like a tart’s handbag, but enough for you to notice. It was the complete contrast to his usual honeysuckle and grass smell, the exact opposite to his natural aroma. You slipped it on in replacement of his Weasley jumper and pulled on a pair pyjama trousers with obnoxious reindeers on them with matching red fluffy socks.

It was an acceptable time to head downstairs for your last full day you were staying here. You had a shift in four days so wanted to be back in your usual routine before you went back to work. Charlie planned on staying with you for a few days before having to return to his duties in Romania.

You pop the kettle on and turn the radio on to a low volume, it is some wizard Christmas song you’re not familiar with being the muggle born that you are. You hum along when the familiar arms wrap around you – of course it was the usual suspect.

“what’s up hot-stuff” you chime, in case anyone else is also awake and about – keeping up appearances and that.

“I missed you last night” he hummed as he kissed your neck gently.

“you’re just horny” you retorted.

“well y/n, you know what my two favourite things are” he toys.

“dragons and sex, the ordering varies” you replies, having heard the remark previously. You finish making two teas and turn around to face the man clinging to your body. In one swift motion he picks you up and puts you on the kitchen counter.

“sexy trousers” he comments, smirking at the attire. “could help you take them off?”

“sexy bedhead. could help you learn what a hairbrush is?” you bicker, smirking back at him. He leans in and kisses you; it was needy and hot. He stands between your legs, his hands making their way underneath the hoodie where your naked flesh sat- his thumbs rubbed against the bra you had on. your hands were a cliché, knotting in his long-tangled locks. His body pressed against yours, no room for the holy spirit, yet somehow wrapping your legs around his waist brought you even closer.

“turns out I really fucking missed you” he comments as you take a breather. You roll your eyes as you pounce for him, he grabs you with ease lifting you up properly.

“why is your room so far away” you comment, not expecting a reply. But when he disapparating you both there in an instant any sign of doubt or fear of getting caught went from your mind.

“we should tell your family” you sigh as he works on getting your bra and hoodie off.

“you wanna talk about this now?” he asks, his hands playing with your breasts. You nod, apparently you did. “we tell them when we go downstairs” he huffs, taking off his own layers and pulling off your seasonal trousers.

Two knocks sounded at the door.

“Charlie?” it was Bill.

“go away” he called, continuing his actions and your body wasn’t complaining.

“are you guys---” He began but you couldn’t focus on that, Charlie pushes in, more voices erupt outside.

“yes” Charlie shouts back. The door handle wriggles in the same moment. You exhaled shakily, both from the internal feeling but also from relief that the door was locked.

“mum he’s busy leave him alone” Bill called, there was no stopping Molly on a warpath. Charlie had knocked a lamp from the table when moving his arm so he could cover your mouth.

“what’s he doing in there? Charlie!” his mother shouted, but Charlie didn’t stop. He couldn’t and you certainly didn’t want him to. Charlie ignored his mother’s persistent calls until the last time she raised her voice.

“Charles Weasley? What on earth are you doing in there?” then a little silence before Charlie spoke.

“my fiancée” he yelled, his hand firmly over your mouth as he kissed your torso everywhere, he could reach.

“your what!” Molly called, the door unlocking with Molly’s use of alohomora. She was yet to open the door.

“mum don’t come in!” he shouts, this time with a sense of urgency, “I’m having a wank” he tries. But you give the game away with your laughter. Charlie’s use of wandless magic locked the door again as you both came to the end of your tether. “what’s so funny about me having a wank?” he asks, lying on top of you to catch his breath. He pulls out when he settles over you. You don’t answer him just lean up and kiss him.

“Charlie!” she shouts through the door, “unlock this door, right now”

“can’t” he exclaimed, messing with his mother. You scramble out of bed together redressing. You disapparating downstairs almost crashing into George as you land.

“moooorning” he calls, his tone implying he knows something you don’t think he does.

“hi George!” you called cheerily, picking up your now tepid mug of tea.

“anything wrong with the stairs?” he asked amused by the sudden use of apparition.

“no, this was more efficient” you inform him.

“I think, you don’t want to be in the middle of the ruckus upstairs.” You cough at his inference, “I think that my dearest mother almost walked in on you and my brother at it like rabbits and you had to escape.”

“how—”

“you’re subtle, but I’m brilliant at spotting things in the background. It’s a talent” he jokes, smiling at the end. “thought something was up last Christmas, and I was right” he chuckles after. No teasing came, no snide comment.

“is that why you’re leaving mungo’s?” he asked, you nodded.

“we’re engaged” you inform George, he is the only one around and it’s a hushed conversation.

“that’s brilliant” he huffed, engulfing you instantly. “no ring?” you shake your head.

“didn’t need one” you state, drinking more cold tea. “we’ll get wedding rings. We’re eloping though” you continued. George nodded, understanding simply.

“does this mean I can’t flirt with you anymore?” he asked hesitantly. You snorted, barking with laughter. Bill walks in with confusion on his face.

“George, if you ever stop flirting with me Charlie will lose his touch” you joke, “and I like to keep him on his toes”. Bill puts two and two together. He hugs you, kissing your forehead.

“congratulations y/n. not the way I would’ve announced I was getting married, but you know Charlie---” he confesses, you chuckle in his grasp.

“well that wasn’t how I wanted to do it either, but we were—” you caught yourself, “I’m not gonna finish that sentence”

Charlie walks down the stairs behind a red-in-the-face Molly Weasley dragging him by his arm. She looks pissed off, and you feel the tension build in your shoulders. George being the closest to you nudges you and smiles, letting you know that it would be okay. You smiled weakly at him.

Charlie is dragged in the garden and you can hear the distorted shouting between himself or his mother. It brought up a feeling inside your body you didn’t understand but you felt like you wanted to cry. You didn’t like angry shouting; it always kind of scared you, you swore to never surround yourself with it, yet your actions had caused it.

What happened next confused you, it was Percy and Fleur coming in, seeing you look a little like a dear in headlights. Fleur took your hands while Percy just walked by your side as Fleur led you to a secret spot.

“Bill used to bring me ‘ere when it got too much” Fleur admitted, you took in your surroundings, it was a quiet and slightly maintained balcony just outside the newly converted attic bedroom. Fleur sat to one of your sides, Percy the other.

“I figured that you and Charlie, were well – you and Charlie” Percy stated softly, “and I understand the distaste to her shouting. I could never stand it either.” You took his hand squeezing it.

“and you know how it was when Bill first brought me home. they all thought he was gonna marry you” Fleur added, “but I knew, he was like your older brother. You love each other but not zee way Molly desired” you sniffed.

“we kept things quiet because we didn’t want to have a big deal made. Charlie never dated someone seriously ‘til me, and I never talked about dating people because I didn’t really have the time until I met Charlie.” You complained, “when me and Charlie got together, neither of us wanted to get married. Originally it was a very casual thing but then we realised we worked together so well. we realised that if we survived the war, we would need each other”

You brought your knees up to your chin, “Charlie knows – I think. I was always scared about telling his mum. Scared she would react this way. You are the closest thing I have to a family and I can’t lose you.”

“y/n. you would be stupid if you thought that Charlie would drop you like that because his mother asked him to.” Fleur offered; you took a little solace in it. “we became great friends because we like to get away when Molly goes red. It scared me a little at first”

“this is your spot?” you asked, you felt small. They both smiled and nodded.

“Fleur has been teaching me French for three years.” Percy admitted, “it’s what we do when one of us needs some space” you nodded, not relaxing at all. “the only thing that matters is that you and Charlie love each other.” He adds after a few minutes of silence. The shouting below is no longer audible, but you can’t face going down just yet – your kind of just want to go home. You want to sit on the couch with Charlie and your best friend, b/f/n, and laugh over a bottle of red. You don’t bother sharing that with Percy and Fleur; it’s not necessary. You haven’t liked shouting all your life.

The day sets into the midday sun, you hadn’t said much more yet listened to Fleur try and teach Percy some new French. Bill brings up some snacks and a book for you to read if you want it.

“you wanna see him?” Bill asked while the other two were in conversation, he beckoned you to stand and talk with him. You didn’t respond straight away.

“was it bad?” you asked, regretting it as soon as you asked. Bill only nodded; his expression was solemn. You put your head in your hands, your mind whirring and heart going ten to the dozen. Bill pulled you in for one of those big brother hugs.

“I know you don’t like shouting and I promise he’s not gonna shout. If he does, I’ll get Ginny to bogey bat hex him.” Bill ushered you indoors to talk properly. You smile a little at him, but the dread still in your eyes. “she’s hurt. But she doesn’t realise she can be overbearing sometimes, that’s why Charlie had to get away to Romania or she would’ve forced him into some office job.” You nodded, knowing this.

“is he mad at me?” you ask, your eyes not lifting from the floor, bill rumbled with laughter, it was quiet as he knew that shouting overwhelmed you and he didn’t want to overwhelm your senses. You took his laughter as your answer.

“he could never be mad at you. you make him kinder”

After a little while of Bill just sitting with you so you could work up the courage to deal with Charlie and by further extension Molly, you gingerly turned the bronze doorknob seeing Charlie sat on the ground outside the door. He looked exhausted, his cheeks red as if he had been crying. When he saw you, he rushed to his feet, almost losing his balance in the process.

“I’m sorry” he said at the same time as you. “why are you saying sorry?” he queried, you shrugged you just felt like you should say it. “y/n/n this is all my fault. I should have told her before you came. I should’ve been more careful and most importantly I shouldn’t have shouted. I know you don’t like it and I’m sorry.”

“Char- “you called, taking his hand in your own, “are we breaking up?” you ask, he looks flabbergasted. In fact, he’s so in shock that he laughs.

“hey, you got me to propose. I’m never letting you go.” He jokes cuddling you, stroking your hair – something he knew comforted you when you were anxious. He took your hand and brought you to his room. You sat on the bed, cross-legged and faced each other. “let’s talk, love” you nodded, mustering the courage to ask what you really wanted to know.

“what did she say?”

“she said lots of things, she’s angry and upset we didn’t tell her. Which I understand but I told her we’re engaged and that we’re eloping. That our relationship is nothing to do with her, that she can like it, or she will have to pretend she does.”

“oh” you smiled, “I didn’t know whether you’d still wanna get married”

“there’s not a moment I don’t wish I had asked you sooner, god I feel like I’ve loved you my entire life.” You grin at his confession. These tender moments are the only times you saw Charlie this gentle. He was soft and quiet, he pondered on his thoughts before he said them. It was a side only you got to see, and you felt honoured.

You must have fallen asleep as when you woke a few hours later, Charlie had transfigured Bill’s bed into an armchair and pouffe and was reading his over-worn dragon encyclopaedia. You felt mentally exhausted, ready to just go home and return to normality.

When you felt able you got dressed, still wearing Charlie’s singed hoodie of course, and walked downstairs to the kitchen hand in hand with Charlie. Today had been a rollercoaster and you had decided that if Molly chose to shout at you again that you would grab your things and disapperate to your flat. Your grip in this thought had tightened on Charlie’s hand who had decided to stroke small circles with his thumb to soothe you.

When you enter the room, you’re beamed at from every angle. Ginny and Harry pat, you on the shoulder; Hermione smiles graciously, the others smile as they did when you told them but when you got to Molly and Arthur their reactions were different to everyone else’s. Arthur hugged you both, no words were exchanged but the gesture translated into a thousand words.

You dreaded turning to Molly, she offered a tight-lipped smile.

“I was disappointed you didn’t marry my Bill, but then I decided that having you as another daughter was something, I shouldn’t take for granted. I can’t say I like the way you went about hiding the relationship for so long from us, and I can’t say I understand why. I don’t like that you’re eloping nor do I like that you have snuck into his bed every night and had sex under my roof—”

“mum. We are 27 and 28 years old, the worst thing that happens is an unplanned pregnancy but we’re old enough to cope with it. Leave it out” Charlie replied, his chest puffed out, “if you’re gonna lecture us we’re gonna leave.” He told her; his voice was stern.

“but most importantly, despite those things, I am happy you found each other.” She finished after being told off by her son. “anyone for a cup of tea?” she asked, deflecting the tension.

You and Charlie curled up together by the fire, his arm wrapped around you.

“I fucking love you” you confessed, reaching up to kiss him. He meets you in the middle, innocently kissing you for a few moments.

“if you shag right in front of me, I’m gonna have to throw a molly-Weasley-level fit” George retorts grinning.

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fanfictionfansmiction · 3 years

Text

Hot Chocolate

Here is a cute Remus reader insert. Sorry if there are any mistakes and that it ends a little abruptly. But basically it’s an au where you and Remus went to school together and you bump into each other twice. word count: 2638

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I’ve never been in a relationship. I point blank don’t like vulnerability and not being in control. I never go on dates with people I like. I don’t actually think I’ve ever fancied someone enough to want to know them. Or to get close enough to them to get hurt.

That was until I saw him. All golden and bright. When we first met properly, I remember his ears went pink when I bumped into him. I could not understand why because he steadied me and prevented me from falling on my face. Something I thanked him for with a cup of coffee and a box of chocolates. I knew I recognised him. Which was perhaps why I was so bold in insisting on repaying him. It wasn’t in his face which had become stronger and more defined since last I saw him. It was his kind nature and in the way he spoke. Soft and smooth like a cup of hot chocolate.

“I’m sure I know you.” I said, attempting to be heard in the bustle of the crowded café.

“I feel the same, I’m Remus maybe we went to school together or something.” He said gently placing his mug down but still managing to spill some on the saucer.

“Yes! That’s it we were at secondary school together; I think you were in my English class. You sat with that loud group of boys who really pissed off our teacher.” I said loud and thankful that I wasn’t going insane.

“Oh, good old Minnie, you know Sirius is still in touch with her.” He said giggling.

“In some strange way that makes so much sense.” I said reaching for my cup laughing.

We sat in that small golden café until they closed. Something neither of us had intended to do. Remus asked if he could walk me home because it was getting dark too early for his liking these days. There was something in the way he asked as though he’d been waiting to ask since he stabled me. Or maybe the way he said my name in such a way I felt a blush creeping up my neck. Eyes wide and a smile breaking it’s way onto my face I accepted.

“It’s not too far from here don’t worry I won’t keep you for long.” I said with a look that suggested I wanted to keep him. Ridiculous I know considering we’d spent a few hours together and here I was wishing he’d ask if he could come in. The walk to my small flat above a corner shop wasn’t long enough for my liking. Although the walk was nice, we’d bumped into each other and exchanged small smiles that lit something in me. Like I’d just drank whiskey.

“I suppose this is goodbye for now,” he said followed with my name again, “I hope to see you again soon.” A smile broke out on his face that made its way to mine. Grinning at each other like idiots I kissed his cheek and said I wished the same. He looked at me intensely like all day long he’d been trying to not really see me. Hazel eyes that now I couldn’t make myself look away from even if I tried. But why would I want to look away. So, we stood together in the doorway to my flat taking each other in. The air changed and it felt thick and warm. This closeness, the smell of coffee and chocolate, his entire being. I felt drunk. Until my flatmate opened the door. Walking between us, she kissed my cheek said she was going to meet her girlfriend and just like that the spell was broken.

“I do hope to see you again Remus.” I said touching his elbow. A smile that told me I would see him.

Predictably I dreamt of him. He was golden. A halo ordained by the winter sun. Truly magnificent. I’m not even sure what happened in the dream just that he was there. Standing tall and smiling at me.

Two weeks went by until I saw him next. Completely by accident. This time it was my chance to stop you from falling.

Me and Marlene stopped by the local for a drink. Marlene and her girlfriend were in an argument and history told us this was the way to get her mind off it. Sitting at our usual booth I was on a mission to buy as many of the rounds that night as I could. So far, I had gotten three rounds of cider and I was working on getting the fourth. Before I spotted Remus I saw the boys from my year 9 English class who were no longer boys. James had a mop of curls that flicked around his neck and ears pushed away from his strong face which his glasses took up most of. Sirius almost as tall as Remus but not quite. His hair much longer than before which was pulled back, so his face took centre stage. Much angular than before but his eyes were as piercing as ever. Then Peter, who hadn’t grown much. His blonde hair once straggly and poorly cut now shaved close to his scalp. Still a little chubbier than the rest but now it filled his face well and he seemed surer in himself. All of them laughing. They were always laughing. As I approached the part of the bar, they were stood around Remus began walking backward as though animatedly telling a story. All his friends wide eyed knowing what was about to happen but offering Remus no warning. His foot caught on the carpet that started a few meters away from where his friends were stood. Just as he was about to fall back, I stopped him. Grabbing his arm and stabilising him causing his friends to laugh even harder. James and Sirius doubled over having to hold each other up and Peter threw his head back laughing manically as he did.

This time it wasn’t just his ears that turned pink, but his entire face turned beet red. Stumbling over his words shooting murderous looks at his friends and a soft apologetic look to me. I’m not sure he even recognised me at first. But when he did it seemed like he was confused asking himself: does it being them make it worse or better? The boys answer that question for him when they addressed me by name. Which is funny because I’m not sure they ever learned it in school.

Looking shyly down at me Remus said my name with a smile. Ruffling his hair and shoving his hands into his pocket all fidgeting and nervous. “I think now I owe you a drink.” He said with a lopsided grin.

“How about we call it even.” I say to him feeling a little embarrassed myself though I didn’t know why. I got the attention from the barman and order for me and Marlene completely intending to leave the group alone and return to my booth. But James attempted to drag me into the conversation.

“Remi here was just telling us about his date he had last week.” He said before taking a swig of his drink.

“Yeah apparently Remi here is in love. Though whenever anyone says they’re in love with someone other than me I’m always sceptical.” Sirius joked.

Remus stayed red and stumbled over his words, “I didn’t say I was in love.” He says to me in a way that suggested he thinks that bothers me. Which it does but I won’t tell him that.

“Well do invite me to the wedding Remus. Sorry boys but I have a friend to get back to. Have a nice night.” I say as I sway back to my table simmering with hot vile jealously. I put the drinks down with a little force causing a spill that I mop with my sleeve leaving it sodden and stinking of cider.

“What was that all about?” Marlene ask peering at me over her drink.

“Oh, just some idiots I went to school with. Nothing important.” I say downing my pint.

“Oh, okay I sure do believe that” she says sarcastically then her face changes, “wait, isn’t that the guy who walked you home?” She asked like she already knows the answer. Then she puts the drink down and stares at me like a mother about to scold her child. “Is that why you haven’t brought anyone home these past weeks. Jesus, I thought you were a found again virgin or some shit. Now I know you’re just hung up on some guy I feel a lot better.” I lightly whack her arm.

“I didn’t bring anyone home for two weeks I think born again virgin is a bit of stretch don’t you Mar.” I whack her arm again for good measure. “And he’s not the reason I just haven’t been into anyone recently and the date I went on last week with that weirdo Lucien or whatever his name was, was awful because he was a raging tory not because of some old school friend I ran into.” I say with a little bit too much annoyance because I know that she is a little right but who cares.

“Someone’s a little defensive.”

“Well someone else is being a little- “

“Sorry to interrupt.” I hear him say. Marlene and I snap our heads at him because we love a good drunk argument to get it out of our system. There Remus stands with two ciders in his hands and rosy cheeks, smiling widely at us. Completely unaware of what we were arguing about.

“Don’t apologise,” Marlene says changing her tone, “we were just chatting, talking, you know conversating.” She smiles like she thinks she’s gotten away with something.

“Oh right, um I brought over these because your friend here stopped me from falling on my arse in a very crowded room, so I decided I owed her a drink.” He says placing them down on the table.

“Oh, so this one isn’t for me.” Marlene says pouting as if she hasn’t got half a pint in front of her (that she didn’t even pay for)

“It can be, if you want but I was wondering if um,” he said my name again and it regrettably still made something glow inside me, “you wanted to go and have a bit of a chat.” He looked at me with big soft eyes and an even sloppier smile.

Is this the version of Remus I want to talk to? I ask myself. Is this weirdly jealous and angry version of me who he really wants to talk to? Before I have a chance to answer Marlene decides for me.

“Yeah actually I have to go,” she says hastily grabbing her stuff, “Dorcas just texted me, I have to go now.” She says kissing my head and I see her sly grin as she leaves.

“Well I suppose we don’t have to go anywhere for that chat a seat just opened up.” I smile at him sliding one drink to me and the other to the space next to me. He sits down and shuffles along to sit beside me knocking knees as he does. He gets comfortable in the seat taking off his dark denim jacket and takes a sip of his drink. As he puts it down, he spills a bit and wipes it up with the beige sleeve of his jumper.

“So, did seeing the boys make you realise that we’re even louder than you remember?” He says nervously looking over at them. They were looking back until I too stared and suddenly they were extremely interested in James shoe.

“Yes actually. I am a little shocked they even know who I am. Beside the point though it seems like you’re always having fun which is nice.” I say eyes still trained on them. A girl around my age approaches them, tall and radiant. Her auburn hair twisted up on the top of her head, she looked like she’d just come back from work. She kissed James on the top of his head. He looked up at her with big warm gooey eyes and kissed her cheek. A moment so tender and intimate I want to look away.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” I ask intending to be told who James beautiful girlfriend is.

“There is no lucky girl those gits were just trying to wind me up.” Before I can interrupt he continues, “They knew that the girl I was talking about was you and they knew your name because I used to have the biggest crush on you in school,” he stop momentarily to rehydrate, “So much so they were sick to death of me talking about it which is why they were such a pain in English. I didn’t say I was in love you by the way I just said that I couldn’t stop thinking about you and was beating myself up because I cannot believe I left without asking for your number or without kissing you. I mean I truly am the biggest moron I know. Although sometime in school I probably did say I loved you. I was a little dramatic back then. Evidently not much has changed.” He looks at me with half lidded eyes. We stare at each other for a while because I’m not sure he knows what he’s said. I see him slowly figure it out because his eyes widen and suddenly looks entirely sober. “Oh god.” Is all he says as though he’s about to rest his head in his hands. I intend to show that I feel the same by taking his scarred rough hands in mine, but he’s obviously committed to throwing his head in his hands because his head hits the sticky table.

“Remus.” I say all high pitched and concerned. Then his friends follow it with a chorus of laughter.

“Oh god.” He says again.

“Come with me.” I say taking his coat and his hand. A chorus of high pitched ‘oohs’ follow from his friends.

I lead him to my flat knowing Marlene will be MIA for a few days. I turn on the lamp and Remus looked like he wanted to curl up into a ball and be forgotten by the world hunched over on the patch work sofa. Still dramatic.

“Remus,” I say sitting next to him on the old sofa, “look at me you idiot.” He swings his head up but his eyes are closed and his hands covering most of his face.

“I don’t want to.” He says grumpily.

“Look at me,” I say taking his hands in mine noticing a small cut on his head, “you got to do most of the talking in there and no offence but if I were to declare my feelings for you I’d rather it not be with your friends eavesdropping.” He groans again. “I did have a really nice time with you, and I did feel jealous when your friends made up that girl. I really want to be a hopeless romantic, but we don’t really know each other. I did have fun with you, and I would go out with you again. But next time please ask for my number because this is rather dramatic.” I say smoothing his hair and holding his cheek in my hand.

Remus looks at me with big eyes warm and gooey like James. A smile playing on his lips like I somehow said the right thing. Then he says my name again. Smooth like hot chocolate. “Can I have your number?”

“Of course.” I say and smile playing on my lips. Then he leans in and kisses me softly like a whisper.

#remus x reader #remus reader insert #remus x y/n #young remus lupin x reader #marauders imagine #marauders era x reader #marauders era imagine #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter reader insert #marauders reader insert #reader insert #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin reader insert #remus lupin x y/n

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Text

CHRISTMAS FICS 2019 Pt. 1

Happy holidays everyone!! This year, no one asked me for my latest Christmas fics, so I took the opportunity to do something I’ve wanted to do for awhile: give ALL OF the bookmarks I have for the Christmas season... essentially updating my current Christmas lists so I make sure I didn’t forget any of them :P

Included below is EVERY bookmark I have up to today, for both Christmas and New Year! I hope you enjoy everything!

I’ll have Pt. 2 up for you tomorrow, which is EVERYTHING I have recently recorded for my Marked for Later list, and kindly ask you wait until THAT list for you to add your own lists so that I have everything I should read in one place! <3

Hope these lists get you into the holiday spirit the week before Christmas!! <3 Love you all!

ALL XMAS BOOKMARKS Dec. 2019

See also: New Year’s Fics (Jan 2018)

New Year, New Beginning by DaisyFairy (T, 810 w., 1 Ch. || New Year’s Eve, John POV, Post S4, Friends to Lovers) – New Year at a crime scene and John makes a decision.

Q 1 HR by StillWaters1 (K+, 2,234 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sick John, Fluff, New Year’s Eve) – On New Year's Eve, Sherlock discovers that sometimes it's the seemingly innocuous, rather than life-threatening, conditions that can keep John from The Work. And John is reminded just how deeply their friendship runs.

Not My Proudest Moment by charlock221 (K, 2,695 w., 1 Ch. || Lunar New Year, Mild PTSD / Panic Attack, Coping Mechanisms, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort) – John tries his best not to get in the way of Sherlock's cases, but when the vivid noises of fireworks unnerve his senses and begin to bring back unwanted memories of Afghanistan, he cannot help but to hope Sherlock will notice and help him before things go too far.

Unimpressed by 221b_hound (M, 3,106 w., 1 Ch. || New Year’s Eve, Dancing, Jealousy) – Sherlock has no intention of attending the Met's New Year's Eve party. The start of a new year is all but meaningless to him. But he ends up there anyway, having odd conversations, and John does not find Sherlock's jealousy the slightest bit cute. And then there is dancing. Part 10 of Unkissed

Coldness/Heat by agirlsname (E, 3,790 w., 1 Ch. || Cuddling & Snuggling, Body Heat, New Year’s Eve, PWP, Bedsharing, Frottage) – The inn is booked up on New Year's Eve. The train home is cancelled because of the snow. The only option is to sleep in the non-heated guest room of a client, and John and Sherlock are freezing. You know where this is going. Part 1 of New Year's Kiss

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Again, if you have fics to add, I kindly ask you wait until TOMORROW’S list to suggest them, so that they’re all in one place I can logically remember to check for new fics to read!! :) This list is meant to be my gift to you guys, with my bookmarks list, and Tomorrow’s is the community gift to the fandom with stuff people have suggested to me and others! <3

#johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #christmas fics #all bookmarks #long post

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years

Note

Hi!! I love your writing! I was wondering if you could write something about James and Sirius getting together during party games? Thank you!!!

James was pretty sure the 'courageous' part of being a Gryffindor could be replaced with 'idiotic' or maybe 'absolute dumb arse' and have the same meaning, because who the sodding hell fancied their best mate and still agreed to play truth or dare? To be fair, most of these nights were just dares, and it's not like anyone could force James to pick truth. That only kept him half-safe, which was in danger enough that he felt 'idiotic' and 'absolute dumb arse' still applied.

It was the usual shite they got up to in the Tower, and it didn't really matter that it was only the seventh years holed away in the boy's dorm because they were just as wild when it was only them as they were when it was everyone down in the common room.

Passing around a bottle of firewhiskey was interspersed with passing around muggle alcohol that Lily had brought with her after winter break. The worst dare so far had been one where Moony had to gulp down some firewhiskey, and he'd had to run to the loo to throw up afterwards, and he was still burping puffs of smoke every now and then.

"Truth or dare, Pete," Sirius said, sipping on a beer-- which he said tasted like piss, but this was Lily's payback for when she had to take off her skirt, so he had to suffer through it.

"Eh. Truth."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"I don't feel like getting up. If you can promise a dare where I don't have to move, I'll do that instead."

"No can do, Wormy." Sirius heaved a put-upon sigh, holding the bottle against his face as he thought. "Alright. Truth... what was up with that haircut you had first year? Honestly. It haunts me to this day."

Peter let out a loud groan. "For fuck's sake Sirius, we've been over this. I was eleven. It was my mum's idea, and I got it cut as soon as I could."

"Right, but why the hell did she do that to you in the first place? Were you a bad son or summat and that was your punishment?"

"Yes Sirius, that's exactly what it was," Peter said flatly. "I shaved her head and that was her revenge. Bugger off."

Sirius snickered, clearly pleased, and then it was Peter's turn to find someone to ask.

"Prongs, it's been a while for you, hasn't it? Truth or dare."

"Dare."

"Aw I really should have thought this through. Erm, kiss the most attractive person in the room, I guess."

Lily threw a bottle cap at Peter, who jumped but didn't try to dodge it or catch it.

"Don't you mean most attractive bird?" Sirius said, and Peter threw the cap at him. Predictably, Sirius caught it, sticking out his tongue afterwards.

"I said what I said, Padfoot. Prongs?"

It didn't occur to James that he could lie-- and even if it had, he wouldn't have done it-- so he grabbed the front of Sirius's shirt and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. If he gave them time to react, he'd be bombarded with questions, so he didn't let his eyes linger on Sirius and said, "Marls, truth or dare."

"Er. Dare?" she said, looking a little thrown.

"Kiss the most attractive bird in the room." James shrugged. "Gotta even it out, now."

Marlene snorted, then had to shuffle out of her spot in the circle to kiss Lily. "Mary, truth or dare."

Sirius didn't say anything, and as far as anyone else could tell, he was fine with what had happened. The problem was that James didn't fall into the category 'anyone else' where Sirius was concerned. They were best mates, practically inseparable. He knew what Sirius acted like when he was uncomfortable but wanted to pretend he was fine.

The easiest way to take care of it would be to talk about when the party disbanded, but they didn't have classes tonight, and everyone was crashing there. Sirius and James had already agreed to share a bed-- Remus and Peter had done the same-- so there would be room for everyone to sleep. He knew that Sirius wasn't going to bring it up, which meant that James was going to have to think of how to mention it tomorrow. Tomorrow, when they were all going to be pretending like they hadn't done this. Oh yeah, it was going to go great.

Evidently, he had underestimated Sirius's need for answers. Sirius didn't like to be left out of things, especially where James was concerned. He woke up far too early to Sirius shaking his shoulder-- gently, but still, James needed his beauty sleep. "Wha'?" he managed to say, peeking one eye open.

"You kissed me last night," Sirius whispered.

James yawned, closing his eye again. "Mm. Funnily enough, I remember that." Sirius was glaring at him. He couldn't see it, but he could sense that it was happening.

"Fine," Sirius said, and before James could wonder what he meant by that, Sirius was kissing him.

"Er- morning breath?" James stuttered.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "That's all you have to say?"

"Erm. Yeah?"

"Stop being such an arse," Sirius muttered, kissing him again.

"Don't ask for things you can't have."

"What the fuck did I just say?"

"Yep, and I'm proving you wrong. Do you really think I'll get less annoying if we start snogging?"

Sirius peered at him. "What about if we start dating?" he asked. This was starting to sound like a negotiation, which was hilarious. They were negotiating for snogging and dating in exchange for how annoying James was going to be.

"I wouldn't count on it getting better. Might get worse." He'd been told that he got more insufferable the happier he was.

"Bloody hell, I hate you," Sirius said, but then he kissed him again, so he couldn't hate him too much. "I can't believe you kissed me in front of all our mates before talking to me."

"If it helps, I never planned on talking to you."

"It doesn't."

"Then pretend I didn't say that."

Sirius snickered. "Yeah alright."

#prongsfoot #marauders #james potter #sirius black #fanfic #filled #peter pettigrew #getting together #hogwarts time #no voldemort au #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

Text

DUMPLING ch 42

The dress was a buttercup yellow with white rimmed sleeves that dragged on the floor. Nenani stood very still as Lolly carefully pinned the dress in several places to get the fit just right. Her mother stood to the side, watching with an odd mixture of emotions.

“You look beautiful, Nenani,” she said. But there was something in her eyes that made her look sad.

“The sleeves are so long,” Nenani said, tilting her head to look at Lolly and flapping her arms. “I look like a bird...”

“It’s the fashion right now,” Lolly said with a suppressed grin. “All the ladies at court are wearing them long. You will be turning heads when they see you.”

“Why do I need to be turning heads?” Nenani asked, feeling nervous. After her talk with Jae and Farris about the upcoming dinner, she was beginning to have serious reservations about the whole ordeal.

“Because you’re going to a dance,” her mother told her straight faced. “And it’s better to go wearing the proper shoes.”

Giving her mother a befuddled tilt of the head, Nenani asked, “Huh?”

“This dinner will be our first introduction to the Vhasshalan court in an official capacity,” Oira told her. “It would be better to make a good impression. And clothes are the first thing they will see. Well, aside from us being human that is. People at court have a certain capacity to be shallow and cruel. It was true in Silvaara and it’s true here in Vhasshal. We have to present to them a carefully painted picture so we can’t give them anything that might come back to haunt us later.”

Nenani looked up at Lolly with an anxious look. “I don’t think I want to go...”

“Don’t fret, Nenani,” Lolly told her gently. “All you need to do is stand there and look pretty. His majesty and your mother with handle everything else.”

As Lolly finished the fitting, Nenani could not strike the feeling from her mind that she was not going to enjoy any of it.

…………………………………………………..

It was a little awkward carrying her dagger and the roll of leather, but even as Jae asked for the fifth time if she needed help carrying anything, she assured him she was fine. But as they rounded the edge of the guard barracks and made their way to the smithy, Nenani turned to stared at Jae as he walked beside her, noting the bottle in his hand. When he looked over and saw her staring, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“I thought you were going to get rid of that,” she said, pointing to bottle of whiskey.

“I am,” Jae replied with a dismissive shrug. “I’m givin’ it to Connar. To try and bribe him into making your belt for you. Not that I think he would refuse you. But a little bribery never hurt. Plus, it’s easier to give this away then just dump it.”

“I don’t understand how you could drink that stuff,” Nenani scrunched her nose up and adjusted the roll of leather under her one arm. “It smells terrible.”

“Wasn’t drinking it for the flavor,” Jae assured her. “But a lot of folks swear it’s the best tasting whiskey you can get. Keral’s famous for it.”

“Still smells bad.”

“Funnily enough,” Jae shot back with a smarmy grin. “So does Keral.”

In all her time living in Vhasshal, Nenani had met all the resident humans save for one; Connar. He was a metal and leather worker in the King’s smithy alongside his guardian, Hev. Another name Nenani was familiar with, but had no face to match it with. The metal medallion around her neck, Jae’s neck, and all other humans in the castle were all made by Connar. Ostensibly due their smaller size, the job was much more suited to human hands than a giant’s.

And as they drew nearer to their destination, the steady beat of metal striking metal became more pronounced and there was a metallic bite to the air itself as though she could smell the forge in the smithy just as she could smell the ovens in the kitchens. But instead of crusty loaves of yeasted breads, the only thing being pulled from the mouth of Hev’s fiery forge were the glowing bars of heated metal.

The smithy was a wide squat structure more reminiscent of a barn than a proper workshop. There was no door, rather the whole front of the building was left open. Tables were strewn with tools and weapons of all kinds and all in varying states of manufacture or repair. There was a barrel off to one side filled to the brim with flat metal blanks in the vague shape of a sword, only waiting to be heated and shaped into their final form and given a hilt. The walls were filled as well with swords and daggers, axes of varying sizes from a small hatchet to an enormous battle ax. And then beneath all of it, Nenani could heard the great breathing bellows of the forge and waves of heat hit her face as they approached.

They passed under the shadow of the smithy’s interior and Nenani scanned the walls as they pushed inwards. So much metal and weaponry and leather. It reminded her of the first time she was taken into the kitchens where she saw all the knives and cleavers therein, but even that paled in comparison to the sheer number of blades hanging from the walls and laying atop tables.

“It’s pretty nice coming here in the winter,” Jae told her. “Stays nice and warm. But the summer is just brutal.”

Nenani paused to look over at a mace casually leaning against the leg of the table, marveling at the idea that anyone could pick up something so lumbering and heavy. It looked like it would be a challenge even for a giant.

Beside her, Jae slipped the bottle of whiskey under his arm and cupped his hands around his mouth. “HELLOOOOO!”

From further into the space came a response. “Hello?”

Jae turned to her and grinned before yelling back, “Hello!”

A pause and then a confused sounding, “Hello who?”

“Hello you.”

“Hello me?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause and an amused response came back. “...Jae? Is that ye?”

The young man laughed and called back, “Yeah, its me.”

There was a series of clanks and the sound of something shuffling around the dirt floor before a giant head peaked out from behind a wall near the back of the room. He had a round pleasant face and a dark, short cut beard with streaks of grey. His long black hair had been pulled into a long queue and it swung out from behind him when he poked his head out. Large brown eyes stared at them and then there was a flash of white teeth. “Well so ye are!”

The rest of the giant’s body followed his head from around the wall and he walked with long legged strides over to the pair of humans. A dark leather apron covered him from his chest down to his shins with the tawny fabric of his sleeves rolled up over thick burly arms. Despite considering herself very well accustomed to giants by this point, Nenani could not quell the sudden nervous bubble that form inside her as he bore down on them. He was more broad shouldered than either Farris or Bart and perhaps even taller. He towered over them for only a moment before he dropped down to one knee, leaning forward even more to be closer to their level. His face and arms were deeply tanned and there was a faint dusting of metal shavings stuck to his face and beard.

“Been a while since yev been down this way,” he said to Jae with an easy smile. “Was startin’ to think ye didn’t like us no more.”

“Nah, nothing like that. Things have just been kind of...hectic?”

The giant threw his head back with a loud short bark of a laugh. “So I heard. Some nutter tried to kill ye? Threw ye off the roof was it? Must be goin’ up in the world if someone found ye important enough to try and assassinate, lad. I’d congratulate ye, but it sounds like it’s more a pain in the arse than anythin’.”

“Nah, no such luck. I was just collateral,” Jae replied, gesturing with his thumb to Nenani. “He was after this one. Hev, this is Nenani.”

The giant’s thick eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ah! So yer Farris’s lil’ squeaker? Ah, well, I suppose yer a Princess too, eh? Please excuse the state of me, yer grace. Always get a bit manky in the shop.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Don’t call me ‘princess’ or ‘your grace’ and I’ll forget everything else,” Nenani replied with a small smile.

“Oh?” Hev asked and then looked to Jae in confusion.

“She hates the titles,” he explained. “Best to just drop them.”

“Ah, well. I’ll try to do that, but forgive me if I slip once or twice. I don’t mean nothin’ by it.”

“Is Connar about?” Jae asked, holding the bottle up with a grin. “We got a commission for him.”

Hev dipped his head and huffed in amusement before lifting up again with a nod. “Oh, sure. He’s just nappin’ over near the rag pile. Cold weather makes his leg ache, so he likes to build himself a lil’ nest over there. I’ll get ‘im fer ye.”

Hev pushed himself back onto his feet and after a few quick stride of his long legs, disappeared back behind the wall. His voice could be heard clearly enough. “Connar, ye up? Come on then, wake up. Oi! Ye lazy bum. Put yer shirt back on. How can ye be complainin’ about the cold when he ye haven’t even got yer damn shirt on? Now get dressed and try to pretend yer civilized fer all of a few minutes, eh? Ye got company.”

There was a fainter groan and then a curse. “Huh? Wait...Really?”

“Yeah, Farris’s ward’s is here t’see yer sorry arse. Y’know...the Princess?”

“The...Princess? Wait. What?! Ah, shit!”

Hev gave a loud laugh.

“Where’s my shirt? Hev, where’s my shirt?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, I put it there and now it’s gone!”

“I didn’t steal yer grimy little shirt. What’d I even use it fer?”

“I dunno. Hide it for a laugh?”

“Ah, not this time.”

“Dammit...I know I had it...”

“...ye check yer pants?”

“What?”

“I said did ye check yer pants?”

“...wha…? Why would I check my pants for my shirt?”

“Because it’s tucked into yer arse, ye fuckin’ dolt.”

“What? Oh! Hey! There it is!”

There was a pause and the Hev said in a contemplative tone, “Sometimes I wonder how ye ever managed to miss seein’ that trap. And sometimes, like now, I don’t wonder quite as much.”

“...fuck you, Hev.”

“Love ye too, lad,” Hev replied cheekily and then shouted back at Nenani and Jae. “OK, yer grace. He’s decent enough. Oh, sorry. Already forgot about the title thing. I mean...yeah, yer good to come on back.”

Nenani shot Jae a look of confused amusement and he just grinned back. Rounding the wall that Hev had disappeared behind, the floor dropped two steps and opened into a large round room with a cone shaped ceiling that ended in a sharp point. Flat openings near the pitch of the roof were opened to the outside, letting smoke and heat escape. The farthest wall from the entrance was dominated by a round bricked forge that, to Nenani’s eye, looked very much like one of Quinn’s ovens, only much much larger. Around the lip of the forge were long black metal poles. Some were nestled into the glowing coals or leaning against the forge itself. Off to the left side was a large bellows, sitting on the ground and positioned perfectly for a giant to step upon it with their foot to breath air into the fire. Next to that sat a giant black anvil with on large hammer resting upon it.

To the right of the forge was an open barrel of water and just beyond that was a large pile of rags, all colored black from soot and dirt and it was there that Hev stood, looking down at a human as they adjusted their shirt and quickly tried to force their messy mop of hair into something presentable.

When Nenani and Jae hoped the last step and down onto the dirt floor, Hev looked up at them and flash a grin. “Ye might need to forgive the state of this one’s dress as well. I’d say he’s just feelin’ under the weather, but...he never really looks any better than this.”

“Shut it you.”

Nenani found herself slightly taken aback when she finally laid eyes on Connar. She had expected an older man by the way everyone spoke of him, but he was surprisingly young. Older than Jae, but perhaps more Riley’s age. Perhaps even a bit older, but only just.

Connar was a lean, dark haired young man with thin gray eyes and his face was marked with faint white lines across his tanned skin. Old scars. His hands were similarly marked, but the most prominent feature of his person was the distinct absence of his left leg. In it’s place was a carved wooden replacement. From his left knee down, his leg was gone and he stood instead with a false one peaking out from the folded fabric of his gray trousers. However, instead of a plain round peg as Nenani had seen before on some sailors, Connar’s fake leg was carved as though to mimic the real leg he had lost. It had even been oiled and polished and he wore a shoe as well to match the one on his right foot.

He must have seen her staring at it, because when she looked up to meet his eye, he wore a knowing expression. “Lost it to a snap trap a couple years back,” he explained. “Some fucker was pouching on the King’s land while I happened to be trespassing through it and snap! No more leg.”

Her eyes widened in horror at the prospect. “That’s terrible!”

“Oh it was,” Hev agree vehemently. “Lil’ fella almost bled out in my arms.”

“But you’re not here to listen to my sob story,” Connar said, waving a hand and looking down at the roll of leather under Nenani’s arms. “Have a project for me, your grace?”

Hev bent down and tapped Connar on the head.

“Ow!”

“She doesn’t like titles.”

“Fine! You just needed to say. Ugh, that hurt!”

“Ah, I didn’t get ye that bad.”

“Says you,” Connar shot back, rubbing his head and wincing. He shook off the pain and annoyance and turned his attention back to Nenani and Jae. “So, what’ve you got for me, your-not-grace?”

“Nonna gave me this,” she said, holding out the dagger. “And I was wondering if you could make me a belt for it.”

Connar reached out and took the dagger, pulling it from its sheath and inspected the blade. Holding it to the light, he turned his eyes to Nenani. “You’re Thorn?”

“On my father’s side. Yeah.”

His eyes drifted down to the amulet around her neck. “And what about that?”

“It’s a fire opal,” she explained. “It helps keep my magic from spilling out all at once so I don’t die.”

Above them, Hev grunted, his eyed wide. “That can happen?”

“Yep,” Jae answered for her. “Almost did.”

“Well, that would be bad,” Connar replied. His eyes lingered on the metal chain. “Might want to swap that chain though. The links are far too thin to be holding up something that heavy. It’s gonna bust loose if you’re not careful.”

Connar slipped the dagger back into its sheath and then inspected the leather work of it. He hummed appreciatively. “They’re well made. The metal is very good. The blade needs sharpening, but I don’t think they really sharpen these. They’re ceremonial if I’m remembering right. Can’t have little kids stabbing each other, I suppose.”

He handed it back to Nenani, but as she tried to reclaim the dagger, the roll of leather fell from her arms. Connar picked it up and let it unroll. Holding it up, he whistled. “This would do well for a nice belt. But, is that all you’re wanting? Just a belt? There’s a lot more material here.”

She shrugged. “What else could you do with it?”

Connar gave her a devilish grin. “Oh, so many things. Tell you what. If can trust me enough, go on and leave me this here leather and come back to see me in...oh, about two days? I’ll have something for you.”

She nodded and smiled. “Okay.”

Jae stepped up and held out the bottle to him. “Here. Something to sweeten the pot.”

Connar’s eyes lite up. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” Jae replied. “Promised Farris I’d keep away from it. So I’m back sucking lime flower leaves.”

Connar quickly rolled the leather back up and slipped it under his arm before eagerly grabbing up the bottle. “Well, that’s your loss,” he said and then looked back to Nenani. “Let me revise my previous statement. Come back in three days and I’ll have something you’ll absolutely love. And I’ll see about getting a better chain for your amulet too.”

“Thank you!” she said excitedly.

Conna held up the bottle. “No, thank you.”

………………………..

Despite the cold weather, the repairs on the west wing were coming along at an astonishing pace. All the broken roof tiles had been pulled off and the masonry underneath taken apart, stone by stone, and finally the fire damaged wood beams. Large new timbers had been delivered and installed to replace them and the masons were now laying back the foundation stones with fresh mortar. But as the giants worked, their craftsmanship was not the focus of Nenani and Jae’s fascination.

“How would it even have gotten there?”

“It must be part of the original structure. Like the tunnels.”

“You’re saying that the humans who built those tunnels would have also been the ones to build that?”

“Well, who else would have?”

“There’s no way!”

“They must have, though. Unless ancient Vhasshalans did.”

“It’s huge!”

“What? You don’t think humans can build big things? Have you ever seen castle Nethwyn? Well...I guess you haven’t. But’s it’s freaking huge too. The great hall was big enough to fit a hundred people and thirty giants comfortably. At least that’s what I always heard.”

From the vantage point of a high gable, Jae and Nenani stared down into the open wound of the west wing’s roof and at an enormous stone head that rose up from within the thick walls. It was nearly as tall as a giant and three times as wide. The damage done by the dragon’s attack had revealed it when work began on the repairs and more astonishing was that there seemed to be more the further down they went. The back of its head faced into the corridor and was the majority of what was visible while its face, still obscured by the outer stone wall, looked out into the valley.

“I thought Warren was just having a laugh when he said they found a giant head in the wall,” Jae said. “Or that maybe I just understood what he was telling me. Yaesha had given me some potent tonics.”

“Do you think there’s more of them?” Nenani asked.

“Maybe,” he said lightly. “But seeing how dug in that one it, it might take another dragon attack for the others to be dug out.”

Nenani made a face. “I wonder if he’s gonna have them wall it back up.”

“Don’t know. Seems a pity to cover it back up again.”

“Yeah.”

A short silence fell between them.

“So,” Jae said, breaking the quite, and tilting his head to peer at her curiously. “You ready for your official debut at court?”

“No,” she replied, her eyes watching one of the workmen slather a trowel with mortar and place a vaguely square shaped stone into place and giving it a rapid tap with the butt of his trowel before turning back to his bucket and beginning the process again with the next stone. “But I’ll be there. I’m just gonna do what Lolly said and just...sit there and look pretty. I guess. The dress is pretty heavy so that might be all I can do anyway. Are you going?”

He sighed. “Warren asked me if I would come and I tried to make an excuse, but Rosanna answered for me. So I’m going. And she’s already picked out my clothes for me and everything. And I swear she’s deliberately choosing the doublets that are just constricting enough for me not to be able to have any free movement. It’s like what I imagine wearing a corset’s like.”

Nenani laughed. “She knows you better than you give her credit for.”

“I mean...it’s nice not having to look over my shoulder all the time, but really. She’s starting to act like she’s my mom. Just this morning for example! When I went to talk to Warren, she didn’t like how I combed my hair and then did it for me. And Warren had the biggest shit-eating grin. It’s been years since I’ve had the urge to hit him, but ugh...got really close then. Could have done with that arm of yours. Wouldn’t thrown my damn shoe at him.”

“Yale must be right, then,” Nenani giggled. “Maybe she’s practicing being a mommy on you.”

Jae glared at her with an unimpressed look.

“So, speaking of the dinner,” Nenani said, steering the conversation away from the subject of the Queen. “Do have any pointers for me? On what I should and shouldn’t do?”

“Oh sure,” Jae replied. “A warning: a lot of courtiers might try to mess with you.”

“Mess with me?” Nenani frowned. “How?”

“Nothing too bad. And I don’t think Eldherst will bother you. I’m gonna bet he’ll be pestering Warren about the armory again. I just mean a lot of the Lords in power now were there during the war and some still harbor...ill feelings towards humans. Though not overtly. They’re a lot more...subtle about it. One or two of the older ones just saw me as Warren’s pet when I first came. One of them even asked me once wear my leash was and why I wasn’t on it. Should’ve told Warren about it, but I was still a kid and just wanted to leave. But I told Keral the next day. Supposedly he crushed up a dried red dragon pepper and slipped it into the Lord’s snuff box.”

With a look of horror, Nenani put her hand to her nose. Her mind supplying the mental image of someone snorting even just a small bit of regular pepper sounded horribly painful. But her horror turned into giggles and Jae grinned with her.

“For you though, the one I’d look out for most is Lord Calem. Tallish guy. Always wears this hideous yellow coat and wears too much cologne. You’ll be able to smell him long before you see him.”

“Why? Does he not like humans?”

“No. Opposite in fact. He is...very friendly.”

She looked at him askance. “How...is that a bad thing?”

It was Jae’s turn to make a face. “He’s a well meaning, but totally condescending idiot with no sense of personal space. And when he drinks, he gets all...cuddly. Especially with humans. I’ll tolerate Kol’s nonsense to a point. He’s my friend. But not Colem. He’s one of the main reasons I stopped going to those things.”

“What?” she laughed.

“Yep. He’ll want to pet you. Like...a pet. Like a dog. After two glasses of wine, he’ll get all up in your face and try to pet on you,” Jae said with a grin and then shrugged. “And since you’re small and cute, better watch out.”

She blinked at Jae’s choice of words, feeling her face flush.

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly.

“...serious. You all right? I mean, the guy’s annoying, but he’s no Thrist.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“...you just...well...you called me cute.”

“Uh huh..?” He drawled, squinting at her and she felt the heat in her face increase and she turned away from him to try and hide it. He leaned into her field of vision, a single eyebrow raised. “You feeling okay?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

“Because you’re red.”

“I’m fine.”

“Like...beet red.”

“I said I’m fine!”

He smirked at her suddenly. “Oh.”

“Shut up,” she snapped and rose to her feet, turning to the open window behind them and hoping down onto the table below.

Jae leaned over to peer at her. “But I didn’t say anything...”

She glared at him. “I said shut up!”

With a smug grin so reminiscent of Keral that she felt the very real urge to punch him, he said, “You...you don’t fancy me do you?”

“No!” Her fingers sparked as she slammed the window shut and then pulled the latch down for good measure.

“Hey!” Jae got to his feet and pushed at the window. “Open up! Geez, Nenani, I was just joking!”

Nenani pretended she couldn’t hear him as she carefully climbed down the table leg, too angry and mortified to feel any pride in having gotten down off of a table all on her own.

“Nenani! Come one!”

“There are other windows!” she called back as she rounded the corner to find the tunnel door.

....................................

BONUS ART: Oh look! It’s ol’ Hev.

#Dumpling #G/t story #g/t #Giant/tiny #g/t fantasy story #Hev #Connar #Nenani #Jae #Lolly #Oira #g/t writing #Dumpling art

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fight-surrender · 4 years

Text

Chapter 5: So It Goes

Rating: Teen and up

Word Count: 1929

Summary: “You’re a neanderthal,” I snarl, somewhat petulantly. He has nice feet, I’m distracted. “You were thinking I’m a neanderthal?” He throws the other sock.

“No, you moron,” I dodge the sock. “You’re disgusting, but also, I wonder if I should take you to the vet.”

When you're a vampire, and your enemy/roomate turns into a werewolf, and then you sort of become friends.

Read on AO3

Hey y’all! Here’s the next chapter of my Werewolf fic. Thanks to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for the mad beta read skills and to @penpanoply for the beautiful cover art. @nunzibelle there’s a tiny Easter egg in here for you, thanks for all the mental health support & friendship ;)

__________________________________

Baz:

He’s still holding my hand. I wonder if he’s forgotten that he’s holding my hand. Or if he’s forgotten what it means to hold hands. Or if he’s forgotten who I am entirely.

“Simon,” I say.

Snow, lost in thought, snaps to attention, he shakes his head and drops my hand. “Yeah?” He’s so weary. I want to wrap myself around him.

“Do you remember anything? From when you were...you know?”

Snow leans his head back, tapping it to the headboard. He closes his eyes, inhales. He shakes his head slowly, “No.” His blue, blue eyes cut to me, “Nothing, Baz. It’s all a blank.”

***

Simon:

“Yes, Penny, I understand that monthly absences are sub-optimal for my marks. I’ll get by. Thanks for the notes, by the way.” I run my fingers through my hair, I am barely keeping my shit together.

The moon is in the first quarter, I’ve got just over a week ‘til my next appointment with my “condition.” It’s only been three months and I am sick of thinking about the bloody moon. I fucking hate the moon.

“Simon!” Penny shouts. “Seriously, what is going on? You’re losing weight!” She snaps her fingers in my face to get my attention, I can’t focus on anything lately. “That alone is cause for concern. Add to that the fact that you’ve got circles under your eyes, your hair is out of control, and I barely get to see you anymore, and we have a problem.” She starts stacking the books and papers scattered across the table. We’re at the library studying for midterms. Which happen to fall during my “special time of the month.” Hence the current diatribe.

“It’s fine Penny. I’ve already cleared it with the professors, I’ll take the exams when I get back.” I feel my temper beginning to sizzle. I don’t know if it’s stress or the disease, but I’m definitely feeling angrier. Or at least irritable. Plus my hair growth has kicked up a notch. Everywhere. I have to shave every day now, which is kind of cool, not gonna lie. I like having the beard option available. Maybe I’ll grow one for the winter.

Penny drops a stack of books onto the table, getting my attention and that of half the library. “These secret errands The Mage is sending you on every month are not worth the damage to your education, Simon. This is ridiculous.” She levels me a cold, hard stare, “I’m taking this up with him.”

This is where I snap. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it. There’s so much at stake here. “The fuck you’ll talk to him, Penny. This is my business, not yours.” I’m shaking as I gather my notes. I don’t want to be this way. “Stay out of this,” I growl. I sling my bag over my shoulder and leave.

The winter air slaps me as I stomp out of the library, leaving Penny mid-sentence. This whole situation is so fucked up. Why don’t I just tell her? Baz wants me to tell her. That’s fucked up too. Getting along with Baz. Working with him. Needing his help. Trusting him. What would Penny say about that? We have an arrangement now, Baz and me. He looks after me when I change, I don’t tell anyone he’s a vampire. Our cover story is pretty thin, with me going on monthly missions for the mage and him taking care of his sister’s dog, but it’s the best we could come up with. That’s new. Baz and me—a ‘we.’ But I’m not ready to think about that right now.

It’s not that I don’t trust Penny. I do, I trust her implicitly. But her mum is on the Coven, and well, I’m pretty sure they frown on werewolves, even chosen ones.

I put my hands in my pockets, where to now? I stand in the courtyard; a chill breeze scatters a few dead leaves across the cobblestones. It’s almost dinner time, I could head into the dining hall for something to eat. Baz is likely to be in our room, revising, even though his scores are already perfect. He could probably fail every midterm and still be at the top of our class. I decide to go to Mummers. Baz probably needs a break anyway.

Baz:

Simon jostles into the room, a dusting of snow on his broad shoulders. He drops his bag on his bed and tips his chin at me. “All right, Pitch?”

“All right, Snow?” This is all so sublimely weird. This kinship with Snow. I fucking love it.

I kick back from my desk, stretching. “You know I’ve been thinking.”

Simon looks up at me from where he’s sat on his bed. He’s removing his shoes and chucking them across the room like an animal. “So?” He says, as he throws a rolled-up sock at me.

I swat it away. “You’re a neanderthal,” I snarl, somewhat petulantly. He has nice feet, I find this distracting.

“You were thinking I’m a neanderthal?” He throws the other sock.

“No, you moron,” I dodge the sock. “You’re disgusting, but also, I wonder if I should take you to the vet.”

“What?” Simon is standing now, in his pants. Trousers slung over his shoulders. He pulls a pair of trackie bottoms from a pile on the floor. This is new, too. Since the nakedness. He’s changing clothes in front of me. I’m not sure how much my heart can take. I look around the room for something to focus on besides his perfect arse. I know the shirt is coming off soon. I think Snow is trying to kill me.

“Take you to the veterinarian, you know, for vaccinations.” I fix my eyes on a crack on the ceiling. “At a minimum you need a rabies shot and probably something for fleas.”

“Fuck you, twat!” Snow has added his trousers to the pile and snaps a t-shirt across his shoulder. He’s shirtless now, of course. His cross glints amid a sea of golden freckles. I want to rip it off.

I try very hard to look bored while simultaneously imagining licking his pectorals because I’m absolutely deranged. “Don’t use that word,” I remind, “It’s vulgar and misogynistic.”

“Right, well you’re a right prick then. I don’t have fucking fleas.”

“How do you know?” I reply, “maybe you have fleas on your were body, and they go wherever all that hair goes when you transform.”

Snow flops on to his bed, blessedly fully clothed. “Crowley, Baz,” he huffs. “Stop fucking thinking.” He reaches into his nightstand drawer and pulls out a mint Aero bar. He unwraps it and offers me half. I take it.

I need to hunt. Usually I wait until Simon is asleep or gone, but I suppose, in light of current developments, I can just go now and actually get a full night’s sleep for a change.

I stand up and start to put on my coat.

“Where are you going?” Simon says, softly.

“Where do you think I’m going?” That came out a bit harsh.

“I think you’re going to eat rats in the catacombs,” Snow replies, shuffling to his feet.

“I don’t eat rats. I drain them,” I correct.

“I’m coming with,” he reaches for his coat.

“Crowley, you will not.”

“Did I go hunting with you when I was in my other form?” He’s fastening the buttons.

“Yes, but—”

“There’s no ‘but.’ You’ve seen me in every aspect of my—condition. I get to see every facet of yours.”

I can’t even describe what I’m feeling right now. My heart is racing, so: anxiety. But I also feel lightheaded and a bit weepy. And also like I’m falling. I think I’m in an alternate reality. Simon Snow, who knows I’m a blood sucking vampire, wants to go with me, to watch me suck blood. He’s asking nonchalantly, as if he wants to accompany me to the grocery store. I can’t process the level of fucked upness here.

“Absolutely not,” I declare.

Snow crowds into my space. I can feel the warmth radiating from him. “You have been dealing with this shit alone for years. I can’t even imagine that. I don’t know how I could have gotten through this—thing alone.” He jabs a finger into my chest, “without you.”

He straightens up and juts out his chin, “I’m going with you.”

Clearly, I’m dead. Or dreaming. Or both. I’ll just roll with it. “Fine,” I say. “You’ll have to keep up.”

***

We’re deep in the catacombs, there are still torches, but I’m taking us to the darkest depths to hunt. No need for him to actually see what I’m doing. Snow is following me like a lost child at the market.

“How do you not get sick from all the rat germs? You’d think you would at least catch plague or something.”

“I don’t know, Snow. I don’t catch cold either, maybe I’ve got super immunity.” I brush a cobweb from my hair as I walk. “Maybe I have antiseptic saliva, like a hyena.”

“Antiseptic saliva,” Snow ponders. “I suppose then, I could skip the nurse and have you lick my wounds.”

“Merlin, no. I don’t want to lick your wounds.” I want to lick your wounds. “And can you hear yourself? I’m a vampire, Snow.”

“Er yeah, just a thought.”

We’re beyond the torches, now. I can still see, but it’s got to be pitch black for Snow. He takes my hand as we continue to walk. I wonder if he can hear my heart pounding. Did the lycanthropy sharpen his human senses too? His hand is warm. My hand is on fire. I feel every whorl of his fingerprints.

“Have you killed anyone, then?”

I stop. I consider dropping his hand, but I’d rather set fire myself on fire first. “Have you killed anyone, Snow?”

Simon looks at me, then looks down, “well, not as a werewolf.”

“I haven’t killed anyone. I’m not—that,” I murmur.

“I didn’t think so.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“Dunno. Needed to make sure.”

We walk in silence. Hand in hand.

I stop again. “Look, I have to…hunt. Will you wait?”

“You want me to stand here in the dark, alone? While you kill rats?”

“I won’t go far, just talk, don’t listen,” I urge.

“Talk about what?” Simon asks.

“I don’t know, tell me about your childhood,” I drop his hand and slip away.

“Not much to tell, really. I grew up in an assortment of care homes. Not exactly idyllic.”

I’m working fast, I’ve drained two rats. “Do you have any happy memories of care?”

Snow laughs softly, “not many.” He pauses for a beat. “One home I stayed at in Liverpool got a grant for new playground equipment. I must have been five or six. It had a big red slide and shiny blue plastic swings. Usually the homes had no swings or broken wooden ones with splinters and rusty chains. These swings were ace. I was so happy. Would swing on them all day if they let me. I tried to sleep out there once.”

“That’s lovely,” I say, walking back to Snow. I wipe my hand on my trouser leg. I wish I had some sanitizer. I take Simon’s hand again; I don’t know who I am anymore. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah, OK,” Simon says as we walk out of the catacombs.

When we get back to our room, Simon takes off his cross.

#howlin forever #my fic #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #werewolf fic

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7deadlycinderellas · 4 years

Text

The Maiden of the Sea 2/5

Ao3 Link

“Who were your other three?”

Gendry looks up from the paper he is writing on, inktip hovering just a breath away from it.

“Arya...are you really asking me about other women I’ve been with while we’re planning our wedding?”

Arya scoots her chair closer to him. They’re sitting at the table in his solar, trying to pin down a guest list that’s small enough for their sensibilities but large enough not to offend anyone.

Arya frowns at his words. The only reason she’d even asked before was because she had wanted to know if he was more like Robert than she’d thought. Wondered if she would end up just another in a long line of girls whose names he couldn’t even remember.

“It’s just- well, I assumed none of them were before we met-”

“You would be correct-”

“And you never really talk about what happened to you after we got seperated,” Arya admits with honesty.

Gendry sighs deeply, and rubs his temple. Arya suddenly wonders if she should have said anything, she doesn’t want to upset him.

“After Davos set me free,” he begins slowly, “I, of course, got lost and came up on shore in the Crownlands a week’s ride from King’s Landing. I didn’t have any money so I went to the nearest village and started offering to do any kind of work they had for shelter.

Well, the village had a brothel, and turns out, they had a lot of things that need fixing. Well, for like a year after what happened, I couldn’t stand even the thought of another woman touching me. I imagine I was probably a little rude to some of the girls who worked there because of it.”

Gendry purses his lips before the next line.

“One night, when I’d finished up replacing hinges on a door, one of the whores sat next to me. Her name was Renna, she was older, thirtyish maybe. She took one look at me and went ‘someone’s hurt you’. I was kind of appalled that she’d said anything at all, so I just kind of looked at her dumbly, and she clapped me on the shoulder and said ‘for two coppers I’ll make you forget everything about them’”.

The chair he’s sitting in is elaborated carved and finished wood. Arya carefully places herself on the arm, resting her arms on one of his shoulders.

“Did she?”

Gendry sighs.

“No, but it did make it easier. I just about threw up when she stripped and climbed on top of me, but she made me look at her and kept talking to me so that I wouldn’t forget who I was in bed with.”

“Oh,” Arya says suddenly, “Is that why you always want to sit up when I’m riding you?”

“...is that a better answer than because it’s the only position where I can suck a tit and squeeze your arse at the same time?”

Arya laughs, and playfully swats him on the shoulder.

“That’s one.”

He smiles.

“There was a girl who worked at a tavern in King’s Landing. I’d go there after work sometimes, we’d have an ale and complain about all the awful patrons we had to deal with that day. One thing led to another. I was never in love with her- and we both knew it - but it was nice, comfortable.”

Arya frowns.

“What happened?”

“Her mother was killed when the Sept of Baelor exploded, and her and her younger sister were scrimping and saving to go and find the inn where their father worked in the Riverlands. I hugged her the day they finally got to leave King’s Landing. I was glad someone got to.”

“What was her name?”

“Jeyne,” there’s a long pause, “I wish I knew what happened to her.”

“You could write Bran, he might be able to tell you. And now that he’s acting like a person again, he might be able to tell you without humiliating or traumatizing you.”

That had been an adjustment. Realizing that her brother was not only her brother again, but that her brother was king of all of Westeros. And then had come the question of whether they should invite him to the wedding. Of all Arya’s siblings he was geographically the closest, but was that the sort of thing you really invited a king to?

“That’s two,” Arya says, returning to the topic.

Gendry takes a deep breath.

“A few weeks before Davos came and found me again, a merchant came in wanting a sword repaired. His daughter, Ysilla, came with him, she was a bit older than me- and she had...I’m not sure what you call it up north-”

He runs a finger up in the middle of his upper lip and draws a line.

“Oh,” Arya says, “A cleaved lip.”

“...I’ve always heard it called a rabbit’s lip, that way’s less mean. Well, hers had been sewn up, but not well, and it gave her a really bad scar. Well, she kept giving me these looks, and when her father left, she ran back and asked if she could come back and see me later.”

“...you didn’t even realize what she meant did you?”

Gendry shakes his head ruefully, and Arya squeezes his shoulder.

“Once a stupid bull…”

“She brought food though. I don’t think I really caught on until she kissed me. I think she thought if she stood too still I would make her leave.”

“She was scared to give you an opening to reject her,” Arya doesn’t tell him that she was sort of hoping for a similar shock tactic to work for her back before the Long Night.

“I think she thought if she just kept going everything would work out. It worked until I was unlacing her dress and she started crying.”

Arya is confused.

“If she was the one who…”

“I think she thought she was ugly and thought no one would ever want her so she threw herself at me. I just stepped back and told her to lace herself up and leave.”

Arya is even more confused now.

“Why are you telling me about a girl you didn’t lay with?”

Gendry looks up at her through his lashes, and Arya catches a hint of shame.

“That was already three…”

She catches on.

“Gendry…” her voice catches in her throat, “Nothing the red woman did was your fault. She tricked you-”

“She still-”

Arya cuts him off with a finger pressed to his lip.

“She hurt you. You said so yourself, it took you a year to let yourself be touched again. She shouldn’t get to be called your first, any more than Ramsey should get to be called Sansa’s. They can both burn.”

Gendry wraps an arm around her, and she presses her face into the crook of his shoulder.

“Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve-”

He gestures around the room, with its rich decorations, and at the woman in his arms.

“All of this.”

Arya pinches the side of his cheek.

“A combination of hard work, a good soul and excellent luck. And a worse man would have managed to already run this place into the ground.”

That had been a point of pride for Arya, coming back. Discovering that Gendry had spent his three years trying to become a good lord. When they had first come, he had taken Davos’s advice and taken a two moon trip around the region, to introduce himself to the other Stormlands houses, and figure out what each of them needed from him.

And while he had hated nearly every minute of it, Gendry told her it had been eye opening.

“Most of the houses have been taxed to their limits by Cersei. Most of them had only remained loyal due to her former marriage, and were on the brink of rebellion because of the rumors of her infidelity. And that’s not even factoring the damage the winter storms had done that needed repairs. I still wish you’d been able to come with me though. About half of those lords need their teeth kicked in.“

Arya laughed. This was on yet another day where they were both doing their best to skip out on wedding preparations.

“Then our plan is a good one. We send announcements instead of invitations, and if anyone complains, we’ll tell them it’s because of your assessment that you didn’t want the other houses stressed by having to help out in the festivities.”

Festivities, which they now had an excuse to limit to the household of Storm’s End, the nearby village and a tiny handful of guests.

Bran, as expected, could not attend. He did, however, send a lengthy letter which makes Arya’s heart sing, and Brienne in his stead.

“He said he thought I should be given the opportunity to visit my father as well,” Brienne confides in her, “Though I should warn you, he also gave me permission to tease you as much as I like.”

Arya’s so pleased she can’t be made to care. It probably helps that she knows Brienne’s not exactly the teasing type.

Arya hadn’t been sure if Sansa would receive the announcement before the wedding, all the way up in Winterfell. It made her sad to think of her sister missing her wedding, but there was nothing to be done.

Then, a delivery came, with a note. Reading it, Arya suspects Bran was involved somehow.

“Should have expected you wouldn’t go about this the usual way. Sad I’ll miss it, but I hope this gift makes you happy as seeing me would.”

The way she phrased that makes Arya a bit apprehensive when she opens the package. The expanse of light gray silk makes a bit of sense though.

It’s not quite a gown, it barely comes to the top of her boots, and has two slits up the sides, it even came with a pair of close fitting black woolen breeches. The light gray is embroidered with shades of blue from nearly white to midnight. There’s another note inside.

“I know Baratheon colors are black and yellow, but this suits you better. Besides, I know you’ll never really stop being a Stark. Maybe in the future, they’ll call you a Storm Queen. That would suit you.”

Arya still can’t muster up much excitement for fancy clothes, but Sansa’s words make her happy.

It’s two weeks before the wedding when the worst storm Arya’s seen thus far begins. The first crack of thunder had woken them both early, and rather than go back to sleep, they’d decided just to pass the time by making love.

(Arya likes it most ways, but she thinks in the early morning is her favorite, with him pressed up behind her or her rolled onto her stomach and squished into the pillows. It somehow makes the rest of the world melt away)

It’s in one these quiet moments when Gendry asks her,

“There’s never been anyone else for you?”

Arya rolls over to face him. She runs a finger over the stubble he shaves closer now.

“You wait this long to get revenge on me for asking?”

Gendry’s eyes are still half-closed, and he’s playing with her hair.

“Like you said to me, you never really talk about what happened after we separated, faceless assassin shit aside. Besides, I want to know how you were so...fearless the first time. I was a complete mess.”

Arya flops onto her back and looks up at his earnest face.

“I wasn’t scared because it was you. I don’t think I could ever be scared of you. When I met you, I was disgusted by the thought of romance, it was never something I thought I would ever want. But despite this, I’ve been half in love with you since I was twelve.”

Gendry makes a face, and Arya can’t figure out if her admission surprises him or not. She thinks back to what he’d admitted to her in the Godswood that first week she’d returned.

“I felt it...like this, even back then. I didn’t know what it was, or what to do about it, but I felt it.”

She remembers watching him in the forge at Harrenhal, remembers being confused by the warm fluttering feelings it evoked. Remembers doing her best to ignore them until one night it had gotten to be too much and she’d shoved her hand down the front of her breeches like she’s seen other boys do by the side of the road, until she finally made it subside.

“Even if I could name it then, it’s not like I could have gotten you to do anything about it.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t have.”

Arya scoffs at the righteousness in his voice.

“So I guess it’s a good thing I figured out how to touch myself early on.”

She feels her ears go pink at the admission, and giggles to herself when she sees Gendry’s do the same. She’s still not sure if this is something other women ever talk about, or even do.

“Pretty much anytime I could get a few minutes alone, I would slide my hand down my smallclothes and try and figure out how things worked. Found that little nub that makes things seem to explode, figured out I could get two fingers in pretty easily, that I actually like it slow better, that it makes me come harder- and that I rarely had enough time to myself to do it properly like that.”

Arya bites her lip before continuing.

“I don’t think it was a bad way to learn. And a lot of it was trial and error. I even stuck a finger up my arse once trying to figure out what all the fuss was about that.”

Gendry’s now turned red as a beet and can’t seem to get words out.

“I can’t say I get it. It was really hard to get in until I wet it with my cunt, and once I got it inside it didn’t feel like much. It was like sticking a finger in your ear or your nose.”

Gendry’s embarrassment has now turned to deep chuckles, that he’s rolled over and is trying to muffle them in the pillow. Good, Arya likes it better this way.

“I learned some things in the brothels in Braavos too, but I’m glad I don’t have to spend days in and out of them anymore. Between learning the truly bizarre shit some people are apparently into- I’ve seen a man pay to have a woman get him off using only her feet, and another who paid a woman to piss on his face-”

Gendry’s expression mirrors her own opinions.

“But I also saw what a damn mummer’s show most of that profession is. Nearly everything they say to you is an act.”

Gendry nods, and Arya pulls one of his arms over her.

“I agree on that point. I don’t think I can imagine being with a whore again- spent too long at that one in the Crownlands, seen too many of the girls off duty- watched the masks come off as it were. I’d feel like I was paying to be lied to. I’ve seen the foot thing too-”

“Why is that so common?” Arya muses. She’s quiet for a minute before continuing.

“It was in Braavos that men started looking at me. And not just creepy men staring at little girls, but normal ones. And I would look back, and think ‘oh that one has pretty eyes’ or ‘that one has nice arms’...but the thought of actually doing anything with them myself...was foreign. It was the same with some of the things in the brothels- fun to watch, but I couldn’t imagine doing any of it. “

Arya pauses, suddenly thoughtful.

“I’m not sure if I’ve always been like that, or if it was because of...having to learn to be No One. But either way, I thought I’d end up like my uncle the Blackfish.”

Gendry’s face is earnest. He’s still flat on the bed, only his face turned to her, so he reaches out and tugs her beside him .

“Doesn’t sound so bad. At least you’re not likely to be drawn astray by a random burst of lust that convinces you to do something stupid.”

Arya lets him pull her back towards him. At least he’s looking on the bright side, even if he’s doing it by being self deprecating.

“Then I came back to Winterfell, and found you again, and it was like...like I roared back to life inside. All those things I thought I would never want to do with anyone, I suddenly wanted to do with you, really badly.”

Arya takes one of his hands and runs a trail of kisses up his wrist.

“Best I can figure, I’m not the kind of person who would want to lay with someone unless I already like them, and trust them. And outside of my family, I can count the number of people I genuinely trust on the fingers of one hand. Maybe even on Davos’s hand.”

Gendry pulls back on his arm, and drags her along with it. He kisses her once, sweetly.

“I love you. And even after what happened between us at Winterfell, and you leaving, I trust you too.”

Arya can’t keep her smile down.

“I love you too.”

Arya deepens the kiss with a smile, and they’re well on to round two of the morning when suddenly they begin to hear the sounds of servants coming up and down the hallways and the light from the windows lightens a bit, despite the pouring rain.

“Damn, is it really morning already?” Arya complains.

Gendry groans.

“Time for another day of dealing with other people’s problems and planning for a ceremony we’d really rather skip out on.”

“This is the life we lead,” Arya agrees.

As the day before the wedding loom, Arya begins to feel sick to her stomach. It upsets her. She’s not nervous, really she’s not. She is entirely content with her decisions, but still the nausea remains.

The day before the wedding, the sky clears a bit, so Arya tells the steward that she’s going to cut her work on the ledgers short and head to the Godswood for a swim. The man is taken aback.

“My lady, it’s the middle of winter!”

Arya looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“You do remember that I am from the north right?”

Under the overcast sky, Arya quietly stripped off her breeches and tunic and climbed into the water. She vaguely noticed that the ties on her stays seemed looser than usual. The only real reason she even worse something like that was to keep her breasts in place while sparring, and the laces weren’t tied tightly so they shouldn’t have stretched, even though she tied them in front. Once in the water, she lifts a hand to examine each of her tits. They really had been a bit sensitive lately…

Oh.

Well, it’s not like it was the worst of timing. But it was still something to add to the pile of stuff to consider.

That evening, at supper, Arya looks around and smiles, seeing all these people she actually likes under her roof.

Daron and Tim are sitting with the other men from the armory. Arya notes they’re even holding hands under the table. Jas has come in from the village, and he’s sitting at the same table, no doubt backing up the utterly ridiculous stories the other two have come up with.

Brienne sits at one of the guest tables, with an older man Arya guesses must be her father. She looks, if not happy, then peaceful.

Ser Davos is sitting at their own table, his wife by his side. It feels like they’ve known him for years and yet this is the first time they’ve met Marya and that feels so so wrong somehow, and now they can begin to remedy it.

It’s not Winterfell, Arya thinks, but it’s on its way to becoming home.

The next morning, the ceremony is a blur. It’s not raining, but it’s about to rain again, so they can use the Godswood and not rush back inside. All Arya can see is the blue of Gendry’s eyes, and she can barely get her words out.

But then the words are said, and they kiss and people cheer, and Arya realizes she’s actually married.

The feast is small, and Arya sings the praises of the fish stew Merope has cooked up - made with actual cream now that it won’t go rancid in a day or less on the rocking sea - and it begins raining again quickly, but Arya thinks it’s wonderful.

Once the lutes and the pipes come out, Arya nudges Gendry and asks,

“Can we slip away for a bit?”

“Don’t worry, I warned everyone there would be no bedding, if there were even men in the village brave enough to try ripping your clothes off-”

Arya grins.

“Not that, I just wanted to talk to you for a little while.”

His eyes flicker, and he tilts his head in the general direction of one of the corridors off to the side of the Round Hall.

“I’ve been wanting to show you this for a few days anyway, just haven’t had a chance,” Gendry tells her, keeping his voice down. She’s not sure why, if anyone catches them, they’re just going to assume they’re sneaking off to fuck. Which they are, but maybe not first.

He leads her down to one of the cellars, and points out a door she didn’t see right away. He’s taken a torch.

“I’m not sure if this is an actual secret passageway like those ones that everyone said were below the Red Keep-”

“Those were real,” Arya assures him, “That’s how I escaped before.”

“But I got a lock to put on the door just in case. No one will be able to come down here but us.”

The passageway is a narrow series of steps that turns entirely to stone. There’s a light at the end of the passage, but Arya’s glad for the torch stil.

When the light comes close, she gasps. The passage opens into a small cave, that must be on the side of the sheer cliff that sits below Storm’s End. There’s a blanket on the ground, and Arya scrambles to sit on it and get a look over the edge into the sea.

She picks at the blanket.

“Did you bring this out here earlier?”

Gendry nods, sitting beside her.

“Thought it would be a good idea for us both to have places in case we need a break from everything. ‘

Arya sticks out her feet and slides off her slippers so she can feel the air on her bare feet. The rain is coming down in buckets and the cool mist feels lovely.

She turns her head and glances over her shoulder in a way that she hopes comes off as coy.

“Aren’t you going to ravish your new wife?”

Gendry’s face is joyful.

“I think I can manage.”

When they’re done, Arya’s sitting on his lap on the blanket, looking out the cave. Gendry’s bottom lip is swollen from her enthusiastic biting and she’s pretty sure her arse and tits are both dotted with pinch bruises, and they’ve both got serious cases of bedhead, but dammit, they’re married. And happy.

Gendry plants a kiss on her neck before asking,

“What was it you wanted to tell me?”

She’d actually nearly forgotten.

“Oh, I think I’m pregnant.”

He freezes.

“What?”

“Not sure yet of course,” she says, snuggling into his lap, “But I’ve been sick the last few weeks and my tits are bigger than they used to be.”

Gendry’s still.

“That might explain-”

She leans her head up to look at him.

“The last couple times I licked your cunt, it tasted different. Not bad,” he assures her quickly, “But different. I wasn’t sure if that was something that happened normally, so I didn’t say anything.”

Arya frowns.

“I’m actually not sure if that’s normal. I’ll have to ask the maester when I get him to check things.”

She looks down at her midsection. Despite frequent examination she can’t see more than a slight curve there.

“A child…” she murmurs, voice trailing off.

“Please tell me you find this as terrifying as I do.”

Arya nods. Good, she’s not alone.

“I can give you one thing to look forward to,” she tells him.

She turns around and pins his hips with her knees. She leans up to whisper in his ear.

“I’ve always heard that pregnant women are utterly insatiable in bed.”

Gendry barks with laughter, wrapping her in his arms as she sinks down on his cock.

“You’re already insatiable.”

Good, Arya thinks, as she pays a half mind to the storm still coming down outside the cave. If she is the storm, she must never cease seeking harbour.

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #gendrya #fic

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draw-you-coward · 4 years

Note

"You're cold. Come here" Ikael and, uuh, whoever strikes your fancy :3

;w;; thank you so much for sending something in! i really liked how this turned out , even if the exact line of dialogue is AheUEH a liddle less … sofTM

ao3

Ryne shifts closer to the fire,rocking on her ankles. She tightens her arms around her knees and ducks herhead further into them to cover her nose.

Ikael frowns in concern. “Are youcold, kitten?”

Ryne’s eyes darts to his. Shenods. Poor thing, Ikael thinks as she wedges her hands under her arms.

“We’ve never been here. I’m notused to this weather.” She sounds troubled. “We used to spend the winters atUrianger’s place, because it was always warm.”

Ikael coos at hersympathetically, nosing at his enormous, heavy fur cloak. Ikael, too, gets coldin the winter, since he still has not accustomed himself to cooler climes. Buthe is always prepared! Even if people—perhaps or perhaps not including Y'shtolaand Lyse—say he looks like a dodo with a shaved neck in this cloak.

“You take this then, yeah?” he coaxes,unwrapping it. “No, no, no protests! There will be no shivering on my watch. Thereyou go…” He settles the cloak around her shoulders, tucking it in when itstarts to slide off. It absolutely dwarfs her. Ikael kisses the air and coos loudlyas he smoothes it down.

“Is that Ryne, or have we gottena new pet?” Thancred strides over, offering a piece of the meat he had beencleaning to Ikael with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t smother her with that thing,Ikael. She needs to breathe.”

“Abububu,” goes Ikael, smooching Ryne’shair. She giggles and snorts, pushing him away. “Stop, stop!” she squeaks. “Hedidn’t mean the cloak.”

Ikael mock pouts, but withdrawswith a chuckle and one last, more gentle kiss. He inspects the rabbit thighThancred has handed him as he shuffles over to his frying pan.

“What does your new little nutkinthink of you murdering her friends?” he throws over the fire.

“Now, now, ‘murder’ is a verystrong word,” Thancred replies. “Don’t say it in front of Frederika. And Idon’t know where she is right now—it seems she comes and goes.”

Ikael skewers the thigh, thenpauses. “‘Frederika?’” he repeats. Did he hear that correctly?

He can feel Thancred’s regretin the beat of silence that follows. Delighted, Ikael is just about to crow onthe revelation that he has finally won the years-long battle overFrederick’s name when—

A wet glob of fat sails just pastthe flames and smacks him in the face. Ikael bleats in shock. It begins to slowlyslide down his cheek.

“Ew ew ew ew,” Ikael whimpers,trying desperately to get it off. The rabbit thigh cocks at an awkward angle onits skewer, forgotten.

Thancred regards him inamusement. After a second, he barks out a laugh. At Ikael’s puzzled glare, he explains,“You had the same reaction when I kissed you those few years ago. Hah.”

“What?” says Ryne. Ikaelwhines loudly, smearing the back of his hand over his face. Why is it so gooey?

Dinner ends up being somewhatdelayed.

~*~

Ikael is beginning to get just alittle bit chilly.

Well alright, he had felt the coldnot a minute after he had given Ryne (who is now asleep) his cloak. But itisn’t as if he is going to take it back from her! For all he is concerned, itis hers now. Poor thing. And he definitely does not want Thancred to notice,because Thancred will offer his coat and bully Ikael into wearing it, and then hewill be cold. And Ikael cannot have that.

But he is wearing a sleevelesstop, and he very much regrets it. He cannot pull his sleeves over his hands,because he does not have any, but at the very least, he supposes, hewill not give himself away. The gooseflesh pimpling his arms, unfortunately, isharder to hide, and does not go away even when he blows at his skin vigorouslyas soon as Thancred turns his head. But he finds that he can mostly repress hisshivers, and he can make up for what he cannot with hopefully random-seemingtwitching. Thancred has never pointed out his behaviours that others deem odd,anyhow. For all he knows, Ikael twitches all the time. Ikael is a twitchmaster. Ikael—

Sneezes. Thancred glances over athim instinctively. “Crystal keep you,” he says.

“Thank y-you.” Ikael sniffs. Thancred’sfleeting gaze pauses, turning curious, and Ikael mentally kicks himself as herealizes why. That is not how Ikael’s stutter usually manifests. Damn. And damnagain; now he has to think of a reason to be nervous.

“O-oh no, my… hand cream,” hesays, loud and over-enunciated. “It is almost ov—ov—ov—over! Whatever shall I.Shall I do?”

Thancred shoots him an odd look.“Do you want me to buy you new hand cream?” he asks slowly. “Have you run outof money again? Let me guess: That cloak cost you a fortune.”

Well. It did, but that is neitherhere nor there. “Now my. My. My. Hands will be dry forever!” Ikael exclaimsdramatically. Thancred shushes him, looking over at Ryne. “Oops,” Ikaelwhispers. “Sorry.”

Thancred clambers over on hisknees, somehow managing to be graceful about it. “There is no need to be sotheatrical,” he says in an undertone. “It has never been your strong suit. Howmuch is this exotic cream you want? I’m assuming it was made with half a dozen‘extracts’ and promises to relocate your chakras to your arse or somethingequally preposterous. If you truly need it, I can help you save up.”

Ikael’s mouth parts. “A-ah, it,um—no. It’s fine. Th-the, ah…” He represses a shiver, sending it out throughthe tips of his ears. “The price isn’t that high. I-I can get it myself.”

He purposefully avoids making eyecontact. He has never been a very good liar, let alone to Thancred, who has aunique ability to sniff out as innocent a thing as a half-truth from malmsaway. If their eyes meet, he will be found out in seconds. Thancred will… seethe chilliness of his eyeballs.

“… Alright then,” Thancred saysas Ikael makes an effort to not lock his jaw. The fire is dying, taking with itthe last of its warmth. It is all Ikael can do not to huddle up and rub at hiscold, cold arms. He hopes Thancred will decide to go to sleep soon, because hecannot pretend to not be cold for very much longer. And when he notices,Thancred will be very cross with him and try to do something ridiculouslychivalrous like force Ikael to wear his—nice, warm, large—coat. And Ikael doesnot want that because… then Thancred will be cold. Right. It is getting harderto straighten out the reasons for his martyrdom, frankly, but Ikael is certainit is for a good cause. It is better that he is the one suffering thanThancred, he thinks. Poor Thancred has been through enough.

“I’ll take first watch,” Ikaelspeaks up. He finds that if he evens his breathing, it is easier to keep hisvoice steady. “You go and sleep now. Be nice and cuddly, yeah?”

Thancred shoots him an odd look.“It is early yet,” he replies. “I daren’t turn in for some time. Is theresomething that’s bothering you, Ikael? You are acting strangely.”

“N-no.” Oops. Ikael clears histhroat. “No,” he repeats firmly. “Nothing at—all. Sometimes people just act—actstrangely, you know. No need to jump to conclusions.”

“Right,” Thancred says slowly. “Well,if you want to talk, I’m right here. No better time than the present.”

He settles next to Ikael,comfortably close. That will not do, Ikael thinks in despair as he staresat Thancred’s face, lax with ease. It is getting more and more difficult not toshiver. Quickly—Ikael has to—think.

“I-I think it’s best if y-y—” Achill skitters up his spine. “If you go sit… over there.” Ikael points with onewavering finger, stretching his arm out as far as it will go. “I-I think.Yeah.”

Thancred looks at him. Slowly, keepinghis eyes on Ikael—who quickly diverts his own—he gets up, and sits some waysaway.

“Furth—further back,” Ikael says,because Thancred is still facing him. “Or turn arou—around, please.”

“Have I done something tooffend?” Thancred’s voice is more even, which means his good humour is leaving.Oh no. “If I have, I must say, I would rather you tell me than,” He makes anambiguous gesture, “Whatever this is.”

Ikael’s ears flatten to his head.“N-no, Thancred, you’re fine,” he mumbles, guilt slanting his shoulders. “I justneed. U-um.” He flounders for another, more believable, lie. “Um. I just needto… stretch my legs,” he says weakly. “Nothing to do with—with you.”

This time, when a shiver wrackshim, he is unprepared, and it shakes through his bones. Ikael ducks his headinto his chest, trying not to let his teeth chatter. Lie of stretching his legsjust as quickly forgotten as it was fabricated, he pulls them up so he can hugthem close.

Having Thancred at odds with him,especially for no reason, feels—nasty—but at least it means he will keep hisdistance. Oh, but Ikael feels so horrid about it. He will—hemust—apologize, and then—

“Are you cold?” Thancred’s voicedips with a frown. Oh, shite. Ikael hears him come back over, and resignshimself to his fate just before he feels a semi-gloved hand close over hisshoulder.

“N-no,” he mumbles unconvincingly.He stares determinedly at an ember twinkling in the bowels of firepit.

“Really? Because you look like aplucked dodo, and you’ve been tense as a bowstring since you gave Ryne yourcloak.”

Ikael’s mouth opens in offense.“Y-you’re a… plucked dodo,” he says.

Thancred tilts his head. “Are youill, is that it? Don’t tell me you’re pulling an Urianger.”

Ikael has never lied tohis friends about life-threatening information, so he cannot imagine whatThancred is talking about. “I-I’m not ill.” He frowns. “Fine, I may bejust a teeny bit cold. I-it’s not a bother, Thancred. Hurrah, you f-f-foundethout my secret. Forsooth.”

Thancred claps him on the shoulder.“’Tis a problem that is easily solved, then.” He begins to remove his coat.“Really, Ikael, I don’t know why—”

“No! No.” Ikael hastily tugs thecoat back over Thancred’s arms. He tries to pull it closed over his chest, butit does not have any buttons, so he ends up awkwardly smoothing it out and perhapsfeeling beneath it a little. Thancred is very well-built. “N-no, it is yourcoat! You will be—c-c-cold.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Thancred staresat him. “You’re shaking like a korpokkur in a windstorm. Or a k-k-korpokkur, Ishould say.”

“If one of us has to be cold itwill not be you!” Ikael insists. Thancred catches his wrists with one hand anddeterminedly begins to take off his coat with the other. The bullying hasalready started! Ikael knew it would happen. “No! Let me go. Thancred.”

“Fine, fine.” Thancredrolls his eyes when Ikael begins to hiss at him. “Gods. It’s like living with aferal cat sometimes, I swear. We can share the bleeding coat, Ikael. Comehere.”

Ikael eyes him suspiciously. “Itonly has two arm-holes,” he says.

Thancred rolls his eyes onceagain, longer and more rudely. “Gods, you’re dense,” he says in a tone that isheavy with affection. He tugs his coat off and, before Ikael can indignantly protest,wraps it back around himself.

Then he knee-walks up to Ikael,still infuriatingly graceful, and throws one half of the garment around him. “There,”he mutters, tugging at it so Ikael is cocooned like a very furry, goosefleshy caterpillar.

Ikael gawks at him. Thancred looksback calmly. They sit for a bit.

“I-I’m not dense!” Ikael squeaksafter an inappropriately long bout of silence.

He feels Thancred’s arm encirclehis shoulder underneath the coat, and he shivers, pressing into the warmth ofhis body. “No, you’re usually very clever,” Thancred replies with a smile inhis voice. “I suppose tonight you must have simply been distracted by longing thoughtsof your fake hand cream.”

“Exactly,” Ikael insists pathetically.Thancred chuckles, quiet and warm. Ikael’s ears dip back, and he noses into Thancred’sneck.

“You’re freezing,” Thancred observes.“Alright, I’ll buy you a new coat, since I am going to assume you will be givingthat hideous thing to Ryne to keep. I’m not getting anything that has more thanthree ‘vitamins,’ however. Or that costs over three digits. It is abouttime you learn, I think, how to thrift. Did I tell you that I used to sell ja—”

“It’s not hideous,” Ikael mumblesinto the junction of his neck.

Thancred snorts. “Please. Itmakes you look like a roosting dodo bird with a bald head and cat ears. I halffeared one had eaten you whole when I first saw you in it.”

Ikael whines quietly, tugging Thancred’sarm tighter around him. Thancred chuckles again. He squeezes, then presses alight kiss to Ikael’s head. Their conversation fades with the last embers of thefire.

Ikael opens his mouth. “How aboutfour vit—”

“No.”

~*~

#ikael #thancred #ryne #drabble #writing #shadowbringers spoilers #this was fun! hh #thank u!! <333 #blancaleona #ask

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celtics534 · 5 years

Text

I Don’t Care

Written for the SIYE “First Time” Challenge. Inspired by I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber. A muggle AU where Harry and Ginny have never met.

Read on: FF.net, AO3, and SIYE

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“Come on, mate!” Seamus yelled over the chest-pounding music. “Stop being such a spanner.”

Harry glared at his Irish friend. “I told you I would come with you, not that I would enjoy myself.”

“But sitting in a corner is so --” Seamus made an obscure gesture with his hands.

“So ‘ Harry ’?” Harry supplied, giving his friend a sideways smile. He still couldn’t understand why Seamus had begged him to go to this damn party. Not once had Harry expressed any interest in going to a house party hosted by Dean (Seamus’ old school mate). Harry hated loud noises and really wasn’t that fond of people, which was why he always let Seamus lead any interviews they conducted during investigations.

Seamus just laughed, thumping Harry’s shoulder with his wide hand. “That’s right.” Across the room, a chant started as Dean chugged down his pint. Without a second glance at Harry, Seamus was gone, joining in the shout.

Harry felt himself relax. This was what he preferred when forced to be at a party -- being able to keep to himself. It wasn’t that he hated everyone... no, he just didn’t fit in with any of these people. He’d rather nurse his drink, hope that Seamus forgot he was here, and try to sneak out the back door rather than go anywhere near what they were calling a dance floor .

“Ah, I found my fellow party hater.” A voice spoke somewhere to his left. Harry turned to see an incredibly attractive redhead. He’d always had a thing for redheads, but this woman -- If Harry had been a cartoon character, his jaw would be on the floor.

The woman smiled at him, and even in the horrible blue and green lighting, Harry could see an adorable dimple near a cluster of freckles.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, gesturing to the empty armchair beside him.

“Uh --” Harry mentally slapped himself. “Yeah, of course.”

The redhead sat down, taking a minute to settle herself before leaning forward and holding out her hand. “I’m Ginny.”

Harry shook it, surprised by the strong grip and calluses. “Harry.”

Ginny’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Harry, like Harry Potter?”

Here we go , Harry internally groaned. People always looked at him differently once they knew his name. The fact that his parents had died taking down Britain's most notorious serial killer since Jack the Ripper was not something he wanted to be known for. Everyone knew about the son of Lily and James Potter, who had been left an orphan because of Tom Riddle.

“You and Ron had that midnight duel with Malfoy.” Ginny laughed. “Ron came home during the winter holidays and told me that story!”

It took Harry a moment to realize what she’d said. “That stor -- yeah!” Harry felt his lips curve into a smile for the first time that night. “Yeah. It was great. We had fake swords that Ron threw aside to punch Malfoy in the nose. But how do you --” It was like a lightbulb went off as he connected the dots. “Ginny Weasley...as in Ron’s little sister?”

“Not my preferred title.” Ginny let out a little laugh. “But it’s true. Ron is my older brother.”

Harry had heard stories about Ron’s annoying little sister for years. She and her brother, Percy, had been accepted into a prestigious independent school while Ron the rest of the Weasley brothers had been in the same district as Harry. But surely this couldn’t be the “pain in the arse” sister. She seemed too…

“I feel like I already know you.” Ginny took a sip from her glass. “Between Ron and the twins. You’re famous!”

After only an hour of conversation, Harry felt Ginny was the most incredible person in the world. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also kind, considerate, and funny.

As the night turned into the early morning, Harry was unable to look away from her lips as she told amazing stories, wanting nothing more than to kiss them. He was never like this. When it came to women, he tended to admire from afar until he plucked up the nerve to give it a go and pitifully flirt with them. He was awkward on a good day, especially when it came to a beautiful woman.

With Ginny, he was still awkward... but there were none of his normal flustered ramblings. He was talking with her smoothly, which in his book was close to a miracle. Because with a girl like Ginny Weasley, he should be on the floor in a floundering puddle. But Ginny… she was just so real . No one else in this damn house felt like that. Hell, he could count the number of people who felt like this on one hand.

"So, what did you do?" Harry had his face close to Ginny's under the pretense of hearing her, but really he was just enjoying what he assumed was her perfume. It was some sort of flower that he couldn't name, but God, it was one of the best things he'd ever smelled.

Ginny grinned as she shrugged nonchalantly. "I had to jump."

"So you just jumped off a cliff? Not even knowing how deep the water was?"

"It was that or be known as the team chicken."

Harry shook his head, his smile reflecting hers. "And you couldn’t have that."

“That’s right.” Ginny laughed. “I knew they wouldn’t kill their new star striker.” She shrugged with a proud smirk on her lips.

“I would love to give cliff diving a go,” Harry mused, taking a swig from his bottle.

Ginny gave him an appraising look. “I could take you, see if you’ve got the bollocks to jump.”

“There are other ways for you to check that.” The words were out of Harry’s mouth before his brain could form a roadblock. “I -- I mean.” He started to splutter, something he’d impressively avoided up to that point. Fuck, that is not something you say to a mate’s sister, Harry!

Instead of dumping her drink over his head, though, Ginny gave him a coy smile. “I’d be more than happy to conduct multiple tests, if you’re up for it.”

Harry’s brain short-circuited. He had no idea what was happening or where to go from there. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t seem to get his body to listen to any instructions.

Ginny laughed.“But there are some first steps that need to be completed before we can test out my hypothesis.”

“Which,” Harry cleared his throat, “Which steps are these?”

“Oh, you know.” Ginny shrugged. “Dinner one night. Movie another. I’m not the kind of girl who skips the basics.”

“Dinner.” Harry let the word roll his tongue as if it was the first time he’d ever said it. “Dinner. Yeah -- um -- are you free tomorrow night?”

Ginny beamed at him. “Now I’m not.”

Harry honestly couldn’t believe his own luck. Here was an incredible woman who wanted to go out with him, and not just for his name. “Great. I can pick you up at seven?”

“Seven sounds perfect.” Ginny pointed to his phone that had been sitting in front of him on the coffee table. “Can you unlock that?”

He did as he was told. Once the home page glared brightly at him, Ginny took the phone and started clicking buttons. After a minute she handed it back to him, with the screen displaying her contact information.

“Now.” She grabbed his beer and downed the remaining drink. “Shall we dance?”

Harry’s brain was still lost in another universe (which might have explained his answer), but he managed to say, “Hell yes!”

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“I don’t care.” Seamus laughed, taking another large gulp from his cup. “Emma Watson is fit as fuck. And that’s just what I’d want to do if I’d meet her. She'd be the best shag of my life.”

Harry snorted, which he could barely hear over the deafening music blaring throughout Dean’s house. Somehow, Seamus had convinced Harry to come to another party. It was all a blur in his mind how he agreed, but his girlfriend had said she would come too. Inexplicably, knowing Ginny was coming made everything better for Harry. Just the thought of Ginny coming to his rescue lessened the knots of anxiety in his stomach.

Before Harry could give his mates a cheeky response, arms wrapped around his shoulders and warm breath surrounded his left ear. “Hello, luv.”

Harry twisted his neck to find himself enveloped in red hair. “Hello, Gin.”

Ginny pressed a kiss to his lips. “Come with me to get a drink?”

Without hesitation, Harry stood up. Seamus made a pointed gesture. “There he goes, lads! Leaving us to be with a bird.”

Harry grinned at his mates. “She’s my own Emma Watson, can you blame me?”

“She’s the best shag of your life?” Seamus asked with glee. Ron, however, groaned.

“I don’t want to know, Harry.” Ron pointed his bottle at Harry. “I’m fine with you dating my sister, but I don’t want to know anything.”

Harry didn’t speak, he just winked at Seamus who laughed and waved him away. “Don’t keep her waiting then!”

It took Harry a moment to make it through the crowd. His eyes were hyper-focused on Ginny’s long red hair. Finally, he reached her. She was pouring punch into a plastic cup. Harry bound his arms around her waist, letting his lips fall onto her neck.

Ginny tilted her head, allowing him better access. “If you keep this up, we won’t stay for our agreed hour.”

Harry smiled into her skin. The previous night, while laying in his bed after an hour of not talking, Harry had complained about being stuck at parties for too long. Ginny had laughed and said they would only stick around for a few hours. Harry had then used some of his individualized negotiation tactics he saved only for her. In the end, he was able to shave three hours from their allotted party time and was able to have another hour of silence.

“Works by me.” Harry ran his tongue over a small cluster of freckles by her ear.

Ginny’s breath hitched. “I’d hate to leave without saying hello to everyone” She put her freshly filled cup down on the table and twisted in his arms. Her mouth connected with his, and just like that, the loud music and people faded into nothing. The only thing that mattered was the way her fingers played with his messy waves and how her tongue worked with his.

“Then again.” Ginny pulled back, a coy smile on her slightly swollen lips. “I could make rounds and be ready to leave in fifteen.”

Harry kissed her again. He couldn’t believe that only a year ago she’d found him skulking in the corner of this very room, hating everything and everyone. She made him feel like he could deal with anything, all of the crowds, any bad nights that happened.

Harry shifted his attention from her mouth, up her jaw, stopping beside that cluster of freckles again. “Shall we dance, first?”

Ginny let out a low laugh.”Hell yeah.”

#hinny #hinny fanfic #hinny fic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry X ginny #harry potter fan fiction

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thereisnobearonthisisland-arc · 5 years

Text

tell me somethin’ new

summary: dan's kind of regretting throwing away his friday night to have a skate-off with the guy who insulted him earlier today, but maybe it won't be as bad as he thinks. or the one where dan howell is a little hot-headed and accidentally challenges former ice-skating champion, phil lester, to an after-hours skating competition.

a/n: this was written for the jolly friends and dickmates gc winter secret santa gift exchange. happy christmas/new year/random friday in january @amczingphil! special thanks to @knlalla and @philsroots for continuing to beta this even after i argued against almost every suggestion they made. to quote myself, “i’m sorry for being a stubborn gay bitch.”

word count: 3.7k

read on ao3

warnings: sexual references, sports injury, dan doesn’t know when to Stop

Dan is, decidedly, a dumbass, though he has yet to realize it. He slumps forward, eyes dropping down to where the laces on his skates hang limply at the sides. He glares at them. It’s not their fault that he’s here at an ice rink, after hours on a Friday night. They weren’t the ones who declared that Dan could outskate the cute ice rink owner, Phil, in a fit of half-flirting, half-frustrated hubris, after all. No, Dan did that just fine on his own, but he needs to take his irritation out on something, and the laces happen to be right here.

It hadn’t been on purpose, of course. He hadn’t stepped onto the rink earlier today with the intention of challenging a complete stranger to an after-hours skating competition.

Dan sighs and combs his fingers through his hair. This was a mistake. He could have actually had a fun night, could have gone out to a couple local bars to find a hook-up, but there’s not much he can do about it now. He’s already here, and he’s not about to forfeit when he knows he can win. With a sigh, he reaches down and begins tying up his laces. Might as well get it over with. At least this Phil guy is hot.

Planting the blades of his skates into the ground as firmly as he can, Dan pushes himself up off the bench, but it does little to stop him wobbling the moment he adds his weight into the mix. His ankles buckle and he finds himself reaching out to grab onto the nearest support. He just manages to wrap his arms around the nearest bench in an attempt to hold himself up before he finds himself in a heap of his own limbs on the floor.

Groaning, he presses his forehead against the seat top. It’s made of metal and cool from the chilly air, and it helps to temper his rapidly warming face. Fuck ice skates. He never really has much of a problem with them when he’s on the ice, but he can’t walk for shit in them when he’s on solid ground. He’ll have to learn pretty quickly if he doesn’t want to fall flat on his face in front of Phil, though.

Using the arms he’s already wrapped around the bench, Dan pulls himself back to his feet. This time, he positions himself closer to the wall. As long as there’s something for him to lean on if he needs to, Dan should be able to make it all the way to the rink without incident. He just needs to spend less time thinking about what he’s doing.

Somehow he manages it.

Phil is already on the ice by the time Dan makes it out to the gate. He’s gliding across the ice in figure eights, his long legs clad in tight black leggings, and Dan’s half-tempted to just stay quiet and hide behind the barrier so he can keep watching. It doesn’t really seem like Phil would notice Dan if he doesn’t make his presence known - he appears to be lost in his own world, his entire body swaying to the rhythm of a song that isn’t actually there.

Actually, he appears to be dancing - properly dancing - on the ice right now. His arms come up to circle over his head, fingers locked tightly together, and he bends at the knees, tucking in to begin spinning in a tight circle on the spot. The sharp blades of the skates grind against the ice, cutting through the air like a siren, but all Dan can focus on are Phil’s legs. He seems to be winding himself up, although for what exactly Dan isn’t quite sure.

The answer, it turns out, is nothing. But Phil isn’t done yet. He plants his toe into the ice to stop himself from spinning and immediately begins gliding backwards across the smooth surface. He draws his right leg back, allowing the left one to continue to carry him over the ice as he gears up for something Dan’s not sure he’s ready for himself. Dan can feel his heartbeat in his ears as Phil drags his right skate forward to plant the toe in the ice and propel himself off the ground.

It isn’t until this moment that he realizes Phil must know twice as much about skating as Dan does himself. So what if Phil falls flat on his arse the moment his skates touch the ice again? Dan knows that he’s not a bad skater, but he definitely doesn’t know how to skate quite like that. Regardless of whether or not Phil can land his jumps, he can still do more than Dan will ever be able to. Maybe this was a bad idea. Dan’s throat closes tightly as he watches Phil reach behind himself to press a hand to his lower back. The wince is visible even from here.

Phil pushes himself to his feet and brushes the ice shavings off of his arse, and Dan doesn’t know whether to keep watching or to pretend he hadn’t seen the fall to begin with.

It seems he doesn’t even need to make the decision. Before he can even think about it, Phil’s calling out from the middle of the ice.

“I thought you wanted to skate.” He fixes his gaze just to the left of Dan, eyes rimmed with just a tinge of red.

Dan takes a deep breath and then steps through the gate and out onto the ice. As soon as his skates touch the new surface, a calm washes over him. He begins gliding towards the center of the rink where Phil is, the blades cutting smoothly through the clean ice. It feels familiar, comforting in the same way it feels to walk through the front door of his flat after a long day. Phil meets Dan’s gaze, crosses his arms as Dan digs his toe into the ice to come to a halt right in front of him.

“Sorry, I - erm - I saw you out on the ice and I didn’t want to interrupt,” Dan says.

“I saw you come out of the changing rooms.” Phil’s turned his attention to his fingernails, and Dan wonders if he and his big mouth have already ruined any prospects for a friendly flirtationship.

“Oh yeah, I was, uh, re-tying my laces,” he says lamely.

“Cool.”

The question are you okay sits on the tip of Dan’s tongue, but instead he blurts out, “So what, were you trying to show off for me or…?”

Phil rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath, and begins skating away. Dan watches, unsure of whether he should follow after him or just turn around leave before his shoves his foot even further in his mouth.

“Are you coming?”

Once again, it seems as though Phil is making all of Dan’s decisions for him tonight. Maybe he doesn’t mind as much as he should.

"Yes, sir," he grumbles. When he starts towards Phil, he goes slowly, opting for long, smooth strides over the short, choppy ones that would get him there faster. He comes to a stop about two metres away and clears his throat. "Okay. So tell me how I have to kick your ass."

Phil huffs. "Three trials. One timed lap around the rink, seven figure-eights, one triple lux. Loser has to pay for drinks afterwards.”

Dan gulps. He has no idea how to do a triple lux, but maybe if Phil goes before him, he can just wing it and try to mimic what he does.

“Do we have a deal?” Phil says.

“You know,” Dan starts against his better judgment, lips turning up at one corner into a crooked smirk, “you don’t have to go through all of this just to take me out for a drink. Hell, I’d fall right into your bed if you smiled at me.” He’d probably fall right into Phil’s bed without the smile, even. Although, considering that Phil hasn’t so much as smirked since the moment they met, Dan’s definitely itching to get at least one out of him before the night is over.

“You were the one who called for a skate-off.” Phil’s voice is flat and low, his eyes once again searching for anything to look at besides Dan. His cheeks are tinged pink, but as much as Dan would like to take credit for that himself, he’s pretty sure it’s because Phil’s been stood out on this ice for a while. It is rather nipply out here. Perhaps that’s why Dan loses the ability to bite his tongue every time he’s out on this ice. All his blood is trying to circulate towards his head.

“I only called for a skate-off in the first place because you seem to think I’m incapable of teaching my niece how to skate.”

Phil eyes him suspiciously. “That was your niece?”

“Well yeah,” Dan scoffs. “I promised her I’d take her skating this year. She’s never been before and this place had the best reviews. Obviously none of the reviewers took hospitality into account.”

Phil freezes, his jaw dropping and his eyes narrowing into slits. “Well maybe-” he growls, pausing to let a deep breath pass in and out of his lips. Any fight he has in him seems to dissipate as he exhales. He closes his mouth slowly. “Look. You were distributing your weight all wrong. I know it probably feels more comfortable balance-wise when you angle your skates outward, but it leaves you more susceptible to injuries. I just thought that if you were trying to teach a kid how to skate - which you were - you should at least do it right.”

Dan’s ears grow hot at the insinuation that he’s unfit to teach Maggie how to skate. He scowls at the thick layer of ice beneath his feet. “Oh yeah? Well who crowned you king of the fucking ice rink?”

“The deed to this place,” Phil says flatly. There’s a beat of silence and then he lets out a long sigh, causing Dan’s eyes to flit up. Phil’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “Fuck,” he bursts out finally. “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re not like. A bad skater. I think you already know that.”

Dan can feel the tension beginning to seep out of his shoulders just from this half-compliment, and he kind of hates himself for it. “But?”

“But there’s something I want to show you. C’mon.” The ice grinds beneath Phil skates as he starts making his way towards the main gate.

“Is it your cock?” Dan calls after him. He can see the eye roll from here. “I thought we were going to skate?”

“Raincheck?” Phil looks down at his skates. “I, erm, assume you saw me fall earlier?”

Dan nods despite the guilt crawling up to expand in his throat. He swallows it down. “Yeah, I did. But, uh, I mean to your credit, I wouldn’t even attempt whatever jump that was you did.”

Phil looks up, laughs humourlessly. “A triple lutz. They used to be my specialty. Anyway, It turns out that I’m also pretty shit at distributing my weight. I am now, at least. I, uh, strained my knee on that jump, so I should probably get out of these skates and try not to fuck it up any more.” Shaking his head, he turns and takes his first step off the ice.

“Specialty?” Dan murmurs to himself. Phil used to have an ice skating specialty. One that involved actually jumping off the ice. It’s only a moment later that he registers the second thing Phil just said. “Wait!” he calls out, skating towards the gate he entered the rink at - the one Phil’s just used to step off the ice. He slows down as he approaches the wall. “Are you hurt?”

With a small, sad smile, Phil turns back to look at him. “Nothing a little ice won’t fix.” He sits down on the bench beside gate while Dan uses the wall as a support to help himself off the ice.

Dan sits down on the opposite bench as Phil begins untying his laces. He won’t say it out loud, but Dan is glad for the excuse to take his skates off instead of walking back to the changing rooms in them. If Phil can take his off out here, then Dan will just do the same. He reaches down, tugs at his laces until they loosen. It’s always ten times harder to get the skates off than it is to put them on, so he gets to work, trying to wiggle them off of his feet one at a time.

He isn’t having much luck. Phil’s are already lying on the floor next to his feet, just another testament to how foolish Dan had been to challenge him in the first place. He got lucky with Phil’s forfeit, although from his view of the way Phil’s currently hunched over and massaging his knee with the palm of his hand, Dan doesn’t actually feel all too great about it.

Phil looks up at Dan from beneath his lashes. “Need some help?”

Dan nods silently and sticks his foot out to make it more accessible to Phil, but Phil just drops down to press his good knee into the floor.

“Bit too soon for a proposal, don’t you think?” Dan teases as Phil fiddles with the laces to loosen them up a bit more.

“You know, I could just let you keep these on and laugh as you stumble around in them.”

“Philip,” Dan gasps, “were you watching me? I knew it. I’m irresistible, aren’t I?” He winks.

“Embarrassingly comedic is more like it,” Phil mutters, although his cheeks have gone pink again. He tugs on the heel of Dan’s boot and it gives up its tight grip on his foot. “Okay, now point your toes.” Dan does as he’s told, and the skate slips easily off of his foot. Phil sets it on the floor like he’d done with his own.

Dan whistles. “Wow. Do you do this kind of thing often? For the record, when I say ‘this kind of thing’ I mean ‘help guys who really want to bang you undress from their skates.’”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Do you have an off switch?”

Dan reaches behind himself with a smirk. “Yeah,” he says, pointing to his bum, “it’s right around here.”

“Jesus Christ,” Phil mutters as he starts working on the second boot. “Something tells me that only winds you up more.” He tugs the skate over Dan’s foot and sets it on the floor next to the first. “Now come on. I need to go get some ice on my knee and wrap it up.”

Dan watches as he uses his hands to push himself up off the ground, careful not to jostle his right knee in any way. Following suit, Dan picks his skates up off the ground and grabs Phil’s also. “I know you’re going to turn me down,” he says, “but you’re welcome to use me as support if you need to hobble.”

To Dan’s surprise, Phil slings an arm around his shoulder without a word.

“Oh,” Dan breathes. He shuffles the pair of skates in his right hand to under his left arm, slipping his now free hand around to grip Phil’s waist. “Is this, erm, is this okay?” he says quietly.

“Yeah.”

They make their way slowly and wordlessly, the newly shared intimate space drawing even Dan into a precarious silence. He’s afraid that if he opens his mouth, this bubble that they’ve built around themselves will burst. His heart thumping against his ribcage is the only thing tethering him to reality right now. Each beat feels like there’s a bird trapped in his chest, flapping its wings relentlessly in the hopes that enough friction will set it free.

Luckily, Phil’s office isn’t too far away. There’s a hallway just after the changing room entrance, and all the way at the left on the end is the office.

When they reach it, Phil pushes the door open and flicks on the light. “You can have a seat,” he says, pointing to the armchair near the far wall. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Dan watches warily as he hobbles towards his desk on his own. It’s only when Phil makes it to his desk chair without incident that Dan lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. He strolls over to the armchair and plops himself down on it.

With Phil busy rummaging around in something beneath his desk, Dan is free to look around his office. He hasn’t thought about it enough to have any real expectations, but for some reason he finds the orderliness of the room surprising. Phil’s sat at a large mahogany desk in the corner opposite Dan. It has a computer with two monitors, a picture frame, a coffee mug, a pair of glasses, and what appears to be a page from a newspaper on it, but otherwise, it’s bare. A couple filing cabinets line the wall opposite the desk, but they too have nothing on them. It’s very...plain.

In fact, the only real decoration he can spot in the whole room is a staggered row of shelves built into the wall next to Phil’s desk. On each of them is a collection of trophies, medals hung neatly around their necks. Dan probably wouldn’t have even noticed them if he hadn’t a glimpse of a glare reflecting off their surface.

“That’s a lot of trophies,” he says, finally breaking the silence. “So you’re an ice skater? Like competitively?”

Phil looks up from the ace bandage he’s been steadily winding around his knee while Dan’s been distracted. “Was.” His voice cracks. “I was a competitive ice skater.” He opens his mouth as if he wants to say more, but then closes it abruptly.

Dan doesn’t know how much more he should push, but he’s willing to test the waters if it means getting to know this man a little bit more. “It looks like you were a pretty damn good one,” he prompts, nodding to the shelves.

“Erm…” Phil turns his attention back to his knee so he can finish wrapping it up. “Yeah, I was alright.” His voice shakes. “I was better than alright, actually. I was on the track to the Olympics, but then I made a rookie mistake and...well, long story short, I tore my ACL.”

Dan sucks in a breath. “Oh my God,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t know what all a torn ACL entails, but he knows that it’s ruined careers for a lot of unlucky athletes. And if Phil is here instead of out on the ice, Dan’s pretty sure that he was one of the unlucky ones.

“Me too,” Phil whispers. “Me too.” He shakes his head and turns to tuck the end of his bandage beneath another layer, clipping it in place. With a sigh, he looks back up at Dan. “I was trying to do a triple lutz when you came out to the rink earlier. Just to see if I could do it. I mean, the doctor told me when I came out of surgery that I’d never be able to skate competitively again. I think a part of me has always held out hope that I’d be able to land jumps eventually, though.”

Dan nods. He knows what that feels like. He knows how it feels to chase after something even when the odds are against you. “So what did you do? After they told you you wouldn’t be able to compete again?”

“I, uh-” Phil laughs darkly.“I did a lot of moping for about a year. And then I signed on to be a coach to some younger skaters for a couple years. But I found out that just wasn’t a good fit for me. It was just this painful reminder of everything that I’d had to leave behind.” He presses his palm into his knee and looks up towards the ceiling, letting out a long sigh. “So as soon as my contracts ended, I moved out here and used some of the money I’d saved up to buy this place. Part of me wishes that I could just leave it all behind. But I’ve tried, and every time I do it’s like I can hear the ice calling out to me. Like we have unfinished business. I don’t know, I probably sound like a freak.”

“No,” Dan says, “no, not at all. That’s how I feel about writing.”

“You’re a writer?” Phil’s eyebrows shoot up.

Dan laughs, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through his hair. “Uh, yeah. Not a very good one, but yeah.”

Phil frowns. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Tell that to every publisher I’ve sent my manuscript to in the past two years.”

Phil’s frown deepens, his eyebrows scrunching together in a way that’s both endearing and maddeningly practiced. “Well fuck them. You’ll get it published. I know you will.”

Dan sighs, ruffling his hair again. “Thanks. Really, thank you.” Part of him is afraid that his earnestness makes him sound like a bit of a loon, but mostly he just feels relieved. He’s forgotten how it feels to sit down and have a conversation with someone who actually listens to what he’s saying.

“You will,” Phil says softly before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I, uh, I just wanted to say that I wasn’t trying to like. Insult you earlier today. You’re a decent skater and you skate with confidence, which is half the battle sometimes. There are just some techniques that could help you skate a little more smoothly if you’d learned via a trainer.” He scratches his head. “I could teach you sometime, if you want. And your niece, too. What’s her name again?”

“Maggie,” Dan answers automatically. He pauses for a beat, letting a smile spread slowly across his face. “So you could teach me some techniques, huh?”

Phil blinks. “Aaaaand he’s back.” Shaking his head, he stands up from the desk chair and tests out his knee. It seems to be holding up from what Dan can see. “C’mon,” Phil says with a sigh, the small smile tugging at his lips betraying his apparent annoyance. “Let me buy you a drink. I did technically forfeit after all.”

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #dnp

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that-shamrock-vibe · 5 years

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Movie Review: Avengers Endgame (Spoilers)

Spoiler Warning: I cannot stress this enough, if you have made it this far without seeing Avengers: Endgame yet and have avoided spoilers...DO NOT READ ON. If you have seen the movie then feel free but if you have not do not ruin it for yourself.

Time Travel Trouble:

Alright so I mentioned in my non-spoiler review that a sci-fi element of the movie frustrated me. This was the already established plot-device of time-travel used in the movie.

Now we knew that the Avengers were going to travel through time to some degree in the movie, however what was kept brilliantly secret was how they travelled, when they travelled and where they travelled.

In order to stop Thanos, the Avengers decide to travel in time via the Quantum Realm and retrieve the Infinity Stones before Thanos did, however because they have limited Pym Particles to travel with they decide to pick moments in their own history where the stones are most likely to be and split into three teams each picking a year and place.

All that is great and made for a very fun story, however as with any movie or TV series to deal in time-travel, which is even commented on in this movie with Rhodey and Ant-Man listing the amount of movies to fall victim to these tropes, there always seem to be a case of fixing one problem but causing another and...with the exception of one event back in the time of the first Avengers movie, these problems were apparently all resolved.

However, two big things happened in this movie that should have had lasting damage on the last 11 years of the MCU.

The first is that when the New York team went back to the events of the first Avengers movie, they intercepted the original Avengers team who had the Tesseract and Loki in custody, but because of some minor team malfunction, surprisingly not caused by the time-travelling team, Loki managed to escape custody with the Tesseract.

The second is that the main sightings of Thanos in this movie is from a past version back in 2014 at the time of the first Guardians movie travelling to the movie’s present day of 2023. However, because the epic end to this movie culminates in this Thanos being poetically dusted, everything that chronologically followed for Thanos after 2014 should have been erased. Infinity War should not have happened in this reality yet everyone still remembers everything.

I love time travel stories because they do kind of venture into the “What if” scenarios that I like to see, but to this day I do not think I have seen one play out where audiences haven’t left going “But shouldn’t this be different? or “Shouldn’t he not be around now?”, it drives me crazy.

I’m going to do a separate post focusing on the time travel ventures in this movie where I will definitely be going into more detail.

Characters:

Alright so brace yourself because I am going in and going deep on these characters, again ranked both in order of my favourites and most important to the story.

Iron Man:

We have to start with Tony Stark because not only was he the one who started off the entire MCU but his last words in this movie seemingly sent the Infinity Saga into full circle going from narcissistic billionaire to selfless superhero.

It was always going to be Cap or Iron Man as the big death of the movie and I don’t think Iron Man fans will have a reason to be disappointed in this because of the work RDJ has done not only in this movie but in the entire MCU.

There are so many great moments for Iron Man in this movie that you can kind of tell he will meet his end by the end of the movie because that is what awaits the man who has everything.

When Tony and Nebula are rescued from the coldness of space, Tony freaks out at the loss they suffered during Infinity War and decides to quit being a superhero.

Five years pass and Tony is now married to Pepper and has a daughter, however when Cap and friends approach him about a way to fix reality, he eventually succumbs to the hubris and sets about helping to change destiny.

RDJ’s classic whit and emotion that have helped shape this version of Iron Man are in full swing during the course of this movie. You believe Tony Stark would joke about selling his daughter’s toys if she didn’t go to bed, you believe after 6 years of trying to save the world only to be fought on every decision leading up to the world being destroyed that he hold resentment and hostility towards Cap and the team, you believe all of it.

Also, Tony and Cap going back in time to 1970 and Tony coming face-to-face with his deceased father who cannot be much older than him at that point, was a heart-tugger as you kind of do want Tony to have that moment with his parent that Thor had.around the same time in the movie, but more so because we have learned of the hostile relationship Tony and Howard had throughout the past 11 years.

I did find it interesting that once they got all the Infinity Stones from the past, an Iron Man armour gauntlet was used as a replacement Infinity Gauntlet. I know the original Gauntlet was made out of the same metal that Thor’s weapons are made out of. but I was slightly confused on the fact Iron Man’s armor could take the power of all six stones.

Tony’s insistence on making sure his current state of life stays the same even after the second snap was, I think, the pivotal moment where everyone realised Tony has real investment in his life and the life of others. He has always been saying about trying to protect the world dating back to the Ultron debacle, but now he is hammering that home due to his marriage and his daughter but also Peter.

I thought it so poetic that Iron Man was the last hero standing against Thanos after Thor and Cap had been knocked out. Recongizing the fact that without the suit, Tony is really just about his brain rather than physical fighting so for him to not only be the last one standing, but also the one who started it all back in 2008 was poetic justice at it’s finest.

Captain America:

This is the first time in a long while I feel justified calling him Captain America, because he got the shield back, he shaved the beard, and he was in the blue which is Captain America for me.

I do enjoy Chris Evans in this role, not as much as everyone else seems to and I don’t see him as leading man material. However I do think, much like everyone else, he brought his best self to this movie.

I think right from the start when we see Cap trying to gather his team together even with Tony pretty much showing him up in front of everyone was very him. I did understand both sides of the argument but I do agree with Tony after Cap preaches after Ultron saying “Win lose we do it together” yet because of both their hubris after the Civil War incident, neither have communicated and thus Tony blames Steve for not being with him when everything went down.

Also Cap saying he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that confrontation with Thanos didn’t work out in their favour very much a last resorts moment, but then after Thanos was killed they still didn’t move on. This is very much Cap’s story all the way through the MCU and I love the fact it’s only really highlighted here.

He has never been able to move forward since coming out of the ice, he is the ultimate fish out of water but he masks it while there is still something to focus on. With no real mission or role anymore, Cap just becomes lost himself.

This is why I feel it’s great Natasha became the de facto leader of the Avengers while Cap becomes a support worker of sorts. He’s trying to find his place in the world now the world is no longer what is was.

For that reason, I understand why he was so willing to go along with the time travel angle. Bringing back everyone who they lost to the decimation is the best case scenario, however if for some reason they fail Cap doesn’t really have anything to lose.

You can tell the mutual admiration he and Tony have for each other even when they’re at logger-heads. This is shown when Tony returns to the Avengers Compound in renegade style and Cap just stands there and doesn’t even eye-roll he’s so used to it by now. Also Tony returns his shield so he can’t really complain.

When they went back in time and Cap, Tony, Bruce and Scott went to 2012, the fact Cap was smart in not only using his knowledge of Sitwell and Rumlow being HYDRA to obtain the scepter but then he was actually quite comedic in fighting himself only to then comment on his own arse.

I didn’t guess that when they went back in time to 1970 to get the Tesseract and Pym Particles that he was going to see Peggy, I know they didn’t see each other or interact but it didn’t clock that it was a possibility.

I also didn’t surmise that he would somehow find a way to end up staying with her, although I did think when Cap and Tony went back from 2012 to 1970 that Cap maybe wouldn’t make it back, I was wrong.

That final battle when it was Cap, Thor and Iron Man against Thanos was the stuff of legend. Not only was the fight just simply stunning but Chris Evans particularly really delivers in the physical acting of it, portraying the rage and determination he has for stopping the Mad Titan.

Then there’s the moment that got people clapping in the audience, Mjolnir is lifted from the ground and hurls towards Cap, Captain America can wield Mjolnir as many fans...and Thor...suspected from Avengers: Age of Ultron but to see it confirmed when he had the hammer and the shield was epic.

Also the fact that Falcon contacts him with that great throwback to that great banter they had during The Winter Soldier was such a sweet moment. Although it is weird that he then the first one to come through the portals but I digress.

It’s interesting that it was Cap who had to travel back in time and return the stones, maybe because Thor was so far gone he couldn’t be trusted or just because one of these stones was on Asgard, but I don’t know it served it’s purpose...and that is to give Steve Rogers his final send-off after Tony Stark had his.

It’s not quite “The Death of Captain America” that fans have wanted since Civil War but the fact he returns the stones but remains in 1970 to be with Peggy and live out their life together was a very touching way to say goodbye to the First Avenger.

The fact we see him as Old Man Cap on that bench overlooking the lake, and Falcon has that talk with him about how he finally got a life was almost like living out the last request of an old friend but also finally being able to live out his life.

I do think this is maybe the last time we see Steve Rogers as Captain America, especially now he’s passed on the shield and the mantle to Sam Wilson, if we do see him again it may just be a cameo or something but I think Chris Evans is done now with the MCU.

Black Widow:

Yes, my top three characters involve deaths, in fact four but I’ll get to that. However, it not just because these characters all essentially died that make them the top of the list, it is the way they did it.

This movie was the best I have seen Black Widow since The Winter Soldier and I credit the Russo Brothers and Scarlet Johansson for both. She only really came to life for me after the five year gap when her blonde hair has grown out leaving the red. As I said with Cap, the fact that she has become essentially the de facto leader of whatever version of the Avengers this future team is supposed to be was really her.

Let’s not forget Natasha is a former SHIELD agent and spy so she knows protocol and how to lead. As she said, the Avengers and SHIELD is really all the family she has ever known and so to lose essentially half of that is quite the blow. Also, let’s face it, the world doesn’t really need the Avengers anymore yet Nat is determined to keep the universe in order.

Also, Johansson’s acting in this movie just physically rather than verbally is the best I have seen from her. When Rhodey tells her about Clint and how he has been for several years, her reaction of trying to keep it all together until Rhodey hangs up was powerful for me.

The comedy she had as well here was rather good, her constant digs at Rocket were brilliant. From telling Scott that she can’t call him crazy because she gets emails from a raccoon to later when she and Hawkeye are on Vormir and she snaps when Hawkeye tries to correct her on him not being a raccoon by saying “Whatever, he eats garbage!” so funny.

Speaking of Hawkeye, I have missed him for many reasons but his connection with Natasha is up there in my list. The fact that she was the one who found him and brought him round and then they went together to Vormir only to find out that one of them had to die to get the Soul Stone.

I thought, like most originally, that Hawkeye would be the one to die because let’s face it as much as I like him he’s not the most popular, however when you reach that realisation that both want to sacrifice themselves for different reasons and it becomes a question of who can get there first, the fact they were both hanging off the cliff and you knew Black Widow would be the one to die but it was just such a great scene between such good friends and such a powerful end to the original female Avenger in the MCU...I loved it.

Also, this may be slightly morbid and I don’t know if it was intentional, but when Nat died and you had the same overhead shot as you did with Gamora, that blood pouring from her head seemed to blend in with the red colour of her hair and made her look like she had the original red hair she had during Iron Man 2.

I will go into reasons why I think her death either isn’t permanent or shouldn’t be when I talk about the time travel stuff in a separate post but I know Black Widow has a solo movie on the horizon so I am curious to see what they do with that. But if anyone still needs evidence Black Widow deserves her own movie, this movie is it.

Nebula:

I have loved this character since the first Guardians of the Galaxy. Karen Gillan has been an asset to this universe and one of its breakout stars along with Letitia Wright and Tom Holland.

I loved it during the beginning of the movie when Tony is teaching her about table football and he’s kind of acting like a carer or parent despite he’s the one who could easily die, in return she looks after him. It was a very touching montage of scenes in that opener.

Also that little moment with Rocket when she and Tony were rescued by Captain Marvel was very sweet. This movie was choc-full of emotions and I did not mind.

The time travel element in this movie was best suited for her, yes she was a plot device in it but it was so unexpected and so brilliant that I for once was able to just see is as part of the movie rather than just its own thing.

The fact that when Nebula travelled back to 2014, the Nebula of 2014 and her were linked and therefore shared the same memories was fecking genius. As a sci-fi geek, as a fan of cybernetics, I absolutely loved this scene and Karen Gillan sold the fact that it was two different Nebulas, the one we know in present day who has gone on this journey from villain to anti-hero and even possibly now hero, but then the 2014 Nebula who was full of rage and trying to please her father Thanos.

Past Thanos finding out about the Avengers’ plans this way was also rather organic. So when present-day Nebula was abducted by Thanos and 2014 Nebula convincingly traded places with her to return to the present. I didn’t even question the fact no one knew the difference because she would have had all the intel from present Nebula’s memories.

Past Gamora and present Nebula having a couple of chats about Gamora’s future and their relationship was very nice. Not only for seeing Zoe Saldana again but also because this Gamora was supposed to be the deadliest woman in the galaxy and as such Nebula’s equal.

I did find it interesting that Gamora needed almost no convincing to side with present Nebula and when they went to stop 2014 Nebula as she’s about to end Hawkeye’s life, the fact present Nebula has to kill her past self is also very poetic.

It does kind of bring into question if Nebula should still be alive because her past self is dead but she’s essentially a robot so I guess it doesn’t exactly count and also superhero logic so pass.

I do love she went back with the Guardians, I think if Tony had stayed alive she would have potentially stayed with him given their new friendship, but she belongs with the Guardians and I cannot wait to see her return in Guardians 3.

Hawkeye:

Yes, Hawkeye finally gets something to do! I am so happy with how Hawkeye was treated in this movie. Not only do we start off with him and seeing what his life was like post-Civil War was rather quaint.

Not only do I think watching Clint’s family all be dusted explains why Hawkeye went all Ronin, but also it solidifies the reason why his family was introduced in Avengers: Age of Ultron. I really enjoyed his family, I will get into his daughter’s future in a second separate post about the future of the MCU.

Jeremy Renner finally proves himself for me with his acting skills, I always liked Hawkeye for just being Hawkeye, but here Renner was dramatic and it worked.

From losing his family, to reuniting with Natasha, to going back in time to his homestead, to losing Natasha at Vormir. All of it worked as a dramatic performance.

Speaking of Vormir, as I said with Black Widow, it was so intense waiting to see just who was going to die in order to get the Soul Stone. However, I had that fight or flight moment when you realise what you want because of your instant reaction and it was Hawkeye running in slow-motion after knocking Nat over and jumping off the cliff...I was instantly upset and vocally went “Nooo!” so I’m not happy Black Widow died but I think it is right and feel Hawkeye has more to give.

Having said that, I then thought he was going to die again only this time at the hands of Nebula...to which I would have had two of my favourite characters and one killing the other so I would not have been happy. Fortunately that wasn’t the case and one of my favourite characters just killed their past self, it’s all good.

I did also love when the compound blew up and Hawkeye was at the bottom of the rubble with the new gauntlet and started running through the catacombs being chased by the Outriders was where the horror aspect came in for me because it felt like a scene out of Alien, I loved it when he finally got to the higher ground and zapped them away basically telling them to do one before collapsing from exhaustion, it was so good.

Then when it came to playing hot potato with the gauntlet on the battlefield, after he gave it to Black Panther I am not entirely sure what he did or even if he was on screen until Tony’s funeral where he and Wanda think about their lost loved ones.

I know there’s a Hawkeye TV series planned for Disney+ and I do look forward to seeing what occurs on the series.

Thor:

Oh my god Fat Thor is going to be a meme and gifset for years to come. Just when you think Chris Hemsworth cannot top what he did in Thor: Ragnarok, he cranks it up a notch or two here.

I thought it was very realistic that after blaming himself for not ending Thanos’ life which led to the decimation, he would deliver the final blow at the start by lopping off his head as a kind of poetic irony.

However, the fact he then went into despair and isolation in New Asgard, Norway, when a lot like Cap, he has nothing else to do with his life and still half of reality is wiped out.

He just eats and drinks to his heart content, apparently with his roommates Korg and Meek, great seeing them again. Also Valkyrie, who gets a surprising amount of screen-time here.

The Big Labowski reference was so funny and so fitting, you half expect him to have a shisha pipe it is that bewildering. He plats his hair and beard at the end of this movie when he goes into God of Thunder mode and despite everyone saying he looks like Odin, no he looks like Volstagg.

I loved loved loved when he and Rocket went back in time to Asgard 2013 and he was reunited with his mother. Rene Russo had more impact in this movie than either of the first two Thor movies.

But the fact he decided to talk with her and leave the mission of retrieving the Reality Stone from Jane to Rocket was also an interesting move. I never really felt the chemistry from Thor and Jane anyway. But it was really nice for him to have those last moments with Frigga because I don’t think they interacted at this point in the movie.

Also, he got Mjolnir back, you can say anything you want about Fat Thor but was smart enough to think about it and it was glorious to see him wielding two weapons.

Thor was very gung-ho in thinking the new complete gauntlet would work, he was just so adamant in trying to right his wrong that he was willing to put the whole of reality at risk...again.

When Cap was shown wielding Mjolnir and Thor is thrilled by this apparently, the battle later when Cap has Stormbreaker and Thor has Mjolnir, Thor just saying “No no, you take the small one, I want the big one” was fantastic!

After the battle is won and Tony’s funeral is had, the fact Thor decides to leave New Asgard in the hands of Valkyrie and joins the Guardians was a very fitting move. He had his best scenes in Infinity War with them as a group and the fact he and Star-Lord are already squaring up to each other bodes well for Guardians 3.

Hulk:

I’m just going to skip straight to Professor Hulk here because this was both a shock and a pleasent surprise. I knew Professor Hulk would be turning up in this movie and that somehow Banner would find a way to merge him and Hulk in unison. I just didn’t know how Mark Ruffalo’s acting would resonate but it was absolutely brilliant.

The fact Professor Hulk simply looked like Mark Ruffalo just as the jolly green giant was slightly surreal but in the best way. I can’t decide if I thought he was really there because his movements and mannerisms felt a lot like Mr. Incredible from The Incredibles which is a Pixar movie.

It does make sense that if Stark is the brainiest of the Science Bros. that Banner is second, however time travel he does not know. 1) He turned Scott into a child, baby and elder before managing to reverse the process. 2) He seemed adamant that the team would not make the mistakes of a list of time-travel movies...he didn’t actively make these mistakes but the team still made mistakes.

The fact that now Banner seems to be the brain in charge as opposed to Hulk, when they went back in time to 2012 and he saw his past self smashing and bashing, the fact Professor Hulk is so embarrassed by his former actions that he calls it gratuitous, it was so brilliant.

I did like how he had a reaction when Natasha was revealed to be dead, I would have liked to have seen a scene between the two of them either in Infinity War or here just to either get closure on their rocky romance or at least talk about it because it was left rather abruptly.

I agree that Hulk is the only one capable of wielding the gauntlet without dying because he is able to take the radiation, the fact it screwed his arm up is simply a battle scar I guess.

I’m curious to know if Bruce is going to stay as Professor Hulk going forward, or even if he has a future going forward. He does seem to be at peace with this new form and so maybe he will remain as he is.

Captain Marvel:

I was very surprised by how little screen-time Carol Danvers had in this movie, I think it’s actually less than Black Panther in Infinity War.

I am glad she didn’t pull focus because she is so powerful that she would have made the rest of the team surplus.

She had a Tinkerbell quality to her in this movie particularly at the start with the soft music and the fact she appeared in a ball of light almost as Tony Stark’s guardian angel.

On that note, at the end of Captain Marvel in the post-credits Carol appeared to the Avengers when the team were trying to figure out what Fury’s pager meant, where was that scene in this movie? I appreciate false footage in an effort to throw the fans off but Carol goes from looking rugged and battle-beaten there to literally glowing here.

Brie Larson still isn’t...clicking for me. I don’t know if it’s because I really wanted Charlize Theron in the role and therefore continue to see her rather than Brie but something about the voice or the wardrobe just isn’t adding up for me.

Also Brie Larson made some very distinct choices for the character when they’re in 2023, that short hair, I mean I know Carol Danvers famously has short hair in the comics, but this was a statement look and that statement is of the LGBT variety, especially now with Valkyrie in the mix.

Even Carol’s funeral outfit made a statement as it was clearly a pantsuit, not a dress. I am curious to see if this ever gets a mention on-screen or if it remains an unspoken thing.

When she showed up in the end battle, yes she had been gone for a long time, but she came back in style. I loved how after Thanos’ gun onslaught, they suddenly just stop and point upwards as they detect something entering the atmosphere. Honestly I almost forgot about her at that point because so much was going on, but when she came in and simply destroyed Thanos’ ship I was won over.

Even her interaction with Peter I loved, when he’s clutching the new gauntlet like he’s holding onto a tree and she descends and just says “You got something for me”, it was a cute interaction and I want more of that because it works for her.

Then there’s that A-Force tease which I will talk about in a separate post but my god I was living for that moment when all the living MCU women gathered around Carol to help her out. It was so good, I was fist pounding at that point.

Ant-Man:

Alright so, one of the big mysteries of this movie is how Ant-Man was going to get out of the Quantum Realm...he got out by a fluke rat scurrying across the control panel...a rat!

Paul Rudd definitely has the comedic chops in this movie. He has about the same role as he does in Captain America: Civil War but it is still a good role.

When he is reacquainted with his daughter Cassie, who has aged by five years so he doesn’t initially recognise her, it is a tender moment because obviously she recognises him but because he’s been gone for five years there’s that initial heartache of not recognising your own child.

Cassie didn’t really do much else in this movie, despite my believing she was going to be Stature here, but it was a nice addition.

The fact Scott was so adamant in not breaking the rules of time travel, despite Tony, Bruce and Nebula all laughing him off, he was still okay with taking these stones out of history, even for a minute in their time, and not thinking it should destroy the timeline...again I’ll go into that in a separate post.

Thanos:

Then as for Thanos, Kevin Feige made us wait 6 years but the MCU’s big bad has really paid off over these last two movies. I am really happy with how this movie treated Thanos, both in the opening of the movie and in the second to third acts with past Thanos.

This does create SO much drama in terms of time travel but I will get into reasons as to why it does in my next post. However, from a movie standpoint for what it was. I did think the movie did a great job at not cheapening his death at the beginning but still making his death at the end worth it.

Josh Brolin has been brilliant in this role and you cannot believe that a giant purple alien in gold armour can work but then you see him here.

Thanos is definitely the best MCU villain and after many years of the MCU having a villain problem it is brilliant to see their big bad finally pay off in these movies.

Other Heroes:

Rocket and War Machine are great in this movie, I even have come around to Don Cheadle as War Machine after so many years and movies of him driving me crazy, but the two are still great yet they don’t have the same impact as other characters.

Returning Heroes:

The end of this movie begins with almost every fallen hero from infinity War returning for the final battle. It was spectacular to see all of these heroes standing together and fighting alongside one another in ways we didn’t even see in Infinity War.

It is fascinating to see where these characters stories will go next, either in movies or on the streaming service.

Conclusion:

I cannot begin to describe how much I enjoyed this movie. It was action-packed, dramatic, so emotional and full of surprises that I have already seen it twice just to try and ensure I catch everything and I still plan to see it at least a third time.

As being someone who has followed this film series practically since the start, I think the first movie I saw in cinemas was Captain America: The First Avenger, and to see all these movies and characters come together in this one juggernaut of a movie is glorious.

I am fascinated to know where this universe goes next, who will be the next big bad and who else will be introduced into the MCU family.

Overall this is a 9.5/10 movie, I am not letting the time travel conundrums detract from my enjoyment of the film but I cannot call it a perfect movie for that reason. It is however the best MCU movie just because of the feelings and grandeur and closure for a couple of heroes.

So that’s my spoiler review for Avengers: Endgame, apologies it took me so long. What do you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Marvel Movie Reviews as well as other movie reviews and posts.

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muthary · 5 years

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Photosyntheticfox’s Questionnaire // PART 2

31. What do they identify as?

Genderfluid.

32. Do they have any allergies?

Nope! Nothing worth noting, except for maybe a plain response to seasonal pollens native to Vesuvia. That fades the longer they spend in Vesuvia though. Side note: they never just sneeze once, and hold their sneezes in. So when they sneeze, it sounds like tiny squeaks and their whole body jumps.

33. Do they have any other medical problems?

Just that they wear glasses! Such light eyes aren’t fit for the Vesuvian sun. They magic themselves better vision most of the time, but they definitely own frames.

34. What about mental health issues?

They show signs of depression, but not much else. It’s light after their revival because a lot of their trauma was forgotten.

35. What’s that personal hygiene regimen like?

Baths in the nighttime, sometimes midday, always with herbs, oils, and salts. They enjoy soaking in hot water and always wash their hair pretty frequently. They do shave and pluck their eyebrows, but usually on days blocked out for general self-care. Their hair takes up a lot of their time because of the braiding, plaiting, and hair jewelry. They brush their teeth and toothbrushes get replaced pretty frequently because of their heavy hand and sort of sharp teeth. They make their own soaps and body oils!

36. Favorite rock or gemstone?

Probably clear quartz for is universal use. Rose quartz as a close second because it’s pretty and helps them calm down.

37. Favorite tree?

Alder!

38. Favorite type of weather?

Quiet, crisp, misty mornings. The quiet sort where the fog is sort of thick and is good to hide in. During that sort of weather, anyone would have a hard time tracking Diorbhail down, since they’ll be the first person out on a day like that. If they could have it their way, there would be whole days like this, and they’d be the only person around for miles.

39. Least favorite type of weather?

Violent snowstorms.

40. What is their favorite season? (remember winter is summer and spring is fall)

They hated getting used to Vesuvian seasons. To keep their head from spinning, they still maintain that their favorite season is autumn, or at least when the weather is more on the cold side than the hot side, when the leaves change color, and when it’s time for Samhain.

41. How many languages could they speak before the memory loss? How many do they currently speak?

For ease, before the memory loss, they could speak “common” (the language everyone in Vesuvia seems to speak), gaeilge, and old norse. Gaeilge is only really spoken by the aos sí these days. After the memory loss, they still speak “common”, and because Asra attempted to reteach them their native languages from old books they had in those languages (as someone who could not understand a lick of any of them), Diorbhail has shaky, but sort of instinctual grasp on those other two languages. They can’t carry a conversation like they used to, but they’ll still use runes.

42. Do they sing or play any instruments?

They have a very soft, tremulous sort of voice that they used to sing old songs from their home country. Poetic Edda and old folk songs are what they’re good at. They’ve got a good voice for lullabies! As for instruments, they play an ocarina and a fiddle. The talent for the ocarina sprouted from the time they spent playing with reed whistles in the forest.

43. What do they tend to joke about?

Nothing much. Sarcasm tends to rely on other people to work. They do like to tell old folktales and laugh about them because who on Earth thought that putting on a hat backward would keep you from getting taken away by fairies!

44. After a stressful day how do they relax?

A bath, incense, and a nap until they wake up near midnight, get a snack or a drink, and fall right back asleep!

45. Guilty pleasures?

They collect bones-- Animals bones, that is. Sometimes they’ll buy them, sometimes they’ll find in the forest already cleaned, sometimes they’ll visit a rotting corpse until it’s done decomposing and they can clean the bones left behind. Their room holds their collection. They’re used to odd looks whenever it’s somehow brought up, so they don’t ever discuss it with anyone. A bit more acceptable but still something they don’t like sharing: they have stuffed animal parts they keep, like tails and a rabbit paw. For charm reasons. The coyote tail and pelt they have on their person are things they made.

46. idiosyncrasies?

They can wriggle their ears without using their hands or changing their facial expressions! They also seem to be a very disorganized person but in a mess of random stuff, they know where every single thing is, or at least it’s general location. They notice the smallest bug or animal no matter where it is, as if they can hear the little larvae beneath the dirt as they wriggle around. They have a habit of staring, sometimes at people, sometimes at barren corners, and they space out while doing this. Lastly, they’ve got no issue with gore.

47. How do they act when they first meet someone new? How quickly do they warm up to them?

At first, they’re quiet, observant, and very careful. Since they tend to have impeccable instinct, they’ll decide whether they want to continue talking to someone within the first couple minutes of speaking to them. If they decide they sense something off or annoying about someone, they’ll become terribly passive-aggressive and prickly to drive them off. If they decide someone is worth keeping around, they’ll enjoy friendly conversation, but it’ll take months or a year before they’re comfortable with a hug. Of course, there are outliers, but this is the general pattern they go through. Once they’re close enough to someone, they’re a big proponent of physical affection.

48. In what order would they prioritize Love, fame, money, power, and knowledge?

Knowledge, love, power, money, fame.

49. List four or more things they love to do

Sleep, nature walk/explore, forage in the woods, sculpt, weave, and read.

50. List four or more things they hate to do

Go to crowded places (this includes parties), argue with people, speak or sing in front of a large group of people, or organize themself according to someone else’s standards.

51. List five or more things they have said that sum up who they are

“Julian, you’ve got three seconds to get off your sorry arse before I haul you up myself.”

“I’ve grown real sick and tired of running around for others all the damn time.”

“I’m fine. Stop asking.”

“You can always choose your family.”

“Of course he’s bitter. Who would like coming back as a shriveled, hideous old goat man who’s missing an arm? Although, I suppose it isn’t much different from how he was in life.”

“Keep staring at me like that and I’ll show you how savage I can be.”

52. How do they react to (both verbal and physical) conflict?

Verbal conflict they don’t care for. They’d rather avoid it because it’s always a lot of hot air flying about. Physical conflict they’ll avoid as well, but if they must be involved, they won’t lose. They’re a bundle of brute force and stubbornness.

53. What kind of bad habits to they have?

They mumble to themself when doing everyday things and bite their nails when they’re nervous or just idle.

54. What kind of character faults do they have?

They’re stubborn and unwilling to accept help, especially for things involving their personal life. They’re also self-sacrificial and can be very rude for the sake of ending a conversation immediately, or keeping someone from getting too invested in them. In very specific situations, when they begin to see red, they don’t listen to anyone and may even lash out at anyone who may stand in their way, even if they only intend to bring Diorbhail back down to earth before they can hurt themself.

55. What’s their best trait in their opinion?

That they aren’t dependent on others. This is a misperception of themself though, since they do sometimes need others so they don’t self-destruct.

56. What do they think of their appearance?

They think they’re the most drab thing out there. If you said they were cute, they’d instantly deny and change the subject. They don’t like talking about themself. They also get a little self-conscious about their scars when someone points them out.

57. How do they interact with people in a position of authority?

Very tentatively, but they never show belly. If they deem that this person is a moron and undeserving of their authority, they’ll quickly begin acting defiantly and coldly. They never follow someone’s orders blindly.

58. Who did they look up to as a kid?

A curious fellow named Buile Suibhne. He healed their wounds when they were a child, and taught them to hunt and steal and listen to the trees.

59. How do they interact with kids?

They're quite motherly! Very patient and playful with children. They’ll tell stories and teach them new things, too, like weaving or writing or natural correspondences.

60. Do they want kids of their own someday?

They worry if they’d make a good parent, but one day they might like a child. Two at the most. They sort of flip flop between daydreaming of a distant future and being convinced they’d ruin their child so they should just die an old, lonely crone.

61. Are they religious? If so what god/goddess or gods/goddesses do they worship?

They’ve interacted personally with the entities they pay their respects too, so yes. A lot of their magic is done with specific correspondences to spirits and gods, and they celebrate sabbats in the name of their corresponding deity. They worship Celtic and Norse gods, and reference them plenty whenever they feel that those gods are near.

62. What do they think the meaning of life is?

Just to exist. There is no ultimate goal to life. It’s just to exist and be a part of nature as you would.

63. What would they want their last words to be?

“We’ll meet each other again. Take care of yourself.”

64. What do they want to do before they die?

Return home to the forest they grew up in.

65. What/how do they want to be remembered for after they die?

A kind friend. A free spirit. Aside from this, they wouldn’t mind being forgotten.

66. How do they express affection?

In small gifts, in taking others needs into account, or in physical affection like hugs and kisses to the cheek or forehead.

67. What do they normally eat for breakfast?

Nothing! But if anything, bread and juice. They like a good croissant in the morning.

68. Do they like spicy food?

Yeah! They put hot sauce over their rice. You couldn’t really get spicy food where they’re from, so Vesuvia really opened their eyes to spice. They’re immune to capsaicin now.

69. Favorite fruit and or vegetable?

Diorbhail’s favorite fruit is a banana! Again, they only got to try one after getting to Vesuvia. Their favorite vegetable is a carrot.

70. Do they like sweets?

Yeah! They’re sorta picky about what sweets they eat, though.

#apprentice:diorbhail #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana mc #fan apprentice

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windup-warrior · 5 years

Text

Prompt 4: Saving Time

Corners Cut

“Time is the longest distance between two places.”

― Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie

If a penny saved is a penny earned, what can we say about the temporal equivalent? Is a moment saved, a moment earned or is it not such a one to one translation? Admittedly I am both a lazy hedonist and also a moment hoarder, so this is a subject that simultaneously perplexes and amuses me. I was once told that I am only so lazy as I am for the sake of investing my time and energy into only the most worthwhile endeavors. Or I am just a lazy ass. It could honestly go either way.

“Get up, lazy bones. It’s nearly midday.” The crowing call came with a looming shadow over my resting form. With the sun overhead, it wouldn’t be long before its progressive descent to the horizon in the distance would soon cast its harsh light over my cozy sleeping spot tucked beneath the overhang of the old woman’s home.

“I’m up.” I groaned, draping an arm over my eyes to shield them against the light. Little by little I dragged it away while cracking my eyelids bit by bit, little by little until I could peer up at the shaded form standing over top of me. A stout thing, the Midlander was a wrinkled old thing late in her sixth epoch. Her wrinkled hands sat upon the breadth of her hips, one pinching at a piece of parchment marked with black ink and bearing what looked like a triple cream coffee stain in the corner nearest my reach. “What have you got for me today, Garwynn?”

“A few things from the merchants in town and something to take to the mender. If it’s not too trouble.” She thrust the parchment my way and with a yawn, I took it off her hands to look it over. A few dry goods, fresh meat, a handful of crafting materials. It would be easy enough to knock out and get back to being lazy for the rest of the day. Pushing myself upright, I picked a piece of hay from my hair and brushed my side off while yawning.

“Easy peasy.” At sixteen, it was essentially my goal in life to get by doing the absolute bare minimum. In a post Calamity world, I had no family, no school, no direction or purpose in life save for survival. Garwynn Armstrong was the only one keeping me honest at that point. She gave me a place to stay, menial jobs through which I could make a little pocket gil, and kept me on the straight and narrow. She had lost her husband and only child in the Calamity, leaving her just as alone as I was. We were kindred souls of a sort, I guess. After her passing when I was eighteen, I took her surname as my own, abandoning my father’s name in favor of the only person I have ever truly considered to be “family”.

“Don’t dilly dally either, child. The birds need their greens before supper.” Garwynn leaned down to pinch at my cheek, prompting a scrunch of my nose and a little grumble as I got to my feet. She smiled and retreated into the modest one room cottage set on the fringes of the Chocobo Forest not terribly far from Tailfeather in the Dravanian Forelands.

“Dilly dally shilly shally.” Singsong tones and a dragging lack of pep to my step made for an odd combination but wasn’t that me in a nutshell? Garwynn knew how it would go. It was why she let me sleep as late as she had but still roused me to get something done before the day was through. It was a nice balance that she struck for us both, a beneficial partnership through which she gained a part time companion and someone to tend to the chores and errands that she was getting too tired to do in her advanced age. In turn, well, I had a home. Kinda. She didn’t exactly have the space for me inside, not unless we were sitting or dining together. But there was a generous stable with unused space for me to lay my head and stash a handful of my possessions. When the weather was particularly bad, she would coax me inside and let me curl up in front of the wood fire stove in the corner of her cottage where I would warm my bones while listening to the rumble of the Midlander’s snoring as she slumbered across the room. Usually before morning, I would sneak back out to the stable and bury myself beneath a few layers of gear and a pelt or two until the weather broke. Old habits, they die hard.

The path from Garwynn’s to Tailfeather wasn’t overtly treacherous, frequented by traders and pilgrims alike as they passed through to more promising prospects further on down the line. With a rucksack on each shoulder, one full and one empty, I tromped through the woods en route to my final destination. There I handed off one bag to the mender with the promise to pick it up in a short while. From the mender, I made my way to the collective of traveling merchants that had a habit of lingering near the middle of the small hamlet. On slow days there would be just one but if you were lucky, and I usually was, there were a handful to pick from.

Today was a slow day.

“Shite.” I muttered under my breath when I saw the line congregating near the sole trader. He looked flustered but pleased as punch about the business he was dragging in. I suppose that is inevitable when you’re the only one from which people can buy their needed items. The Dravanian Forelands was by no means a kind or forgiving landscape. Sure, if you tried really, really hard, you could provide for yourself while working the land and hunting and gathering. At least until winter came and blanketed the landscape with feet of heavy snow. Only the most hearty and hale of animals remained and they were usually some of the more vicious species that populated the forest around the town. If any of your preparations faltered during the summer and fall, it would make for an immensely long winter until you could finally get what you needed. As such, many capitalized on the traveling merchants who passed through to get their various sundries to bulk up stockpiles for every season. Dravanians were nothing if not resourceful and well prepared usually.

“Excuse me… I just need a few things…” I piped up, raising a hand to try and get the sole merchant’s attention. At an angle, he heard my call but didn’t see where I was, leaving him to search the crowd around him.

“What do ya need la-- oh.” He stumbled when he saw me, locking gazes and quickly looking away to retreat to the nearest patron perusing his wares. “You’ll have to wait like the rest of these good folk. If there’s anything left for you when they are done, you’re, ah… you’re welcome to it for a premium.”

“A premium? You’re pulling my tail, right?” Typical. So very typical. Not even here could I escape the persistent prejudice that seemed to permeate through every tier of society. Jerks. Whatever. I scanned the list in my hand and turned away from the man. It would likely be at least an hour before I got my turn. There was no way I was going to sit and wait for him forever just to pay more than anyone else for whatever he may have had left.

“Keimfyr!” Five minutes later, I was rounding one of the peripheral buildings on the edge of Tailfeather in search of a particularly reliable Roegadyn who frequented these parts. Like Garwynn, he lived on the outskirts of the forest but ventured in often to peddle his own wares. I found who I was looking for, thankfully, and lit up with a bright smile for the man as he looked my way.

“Little kit, how’s Garwynn?” He called with a jovial smile in return. His nickname made me crinkle my nose but he could only laugh at that too. With the way he towered over everything and everyone, I was sure that he called everyone little. It wasn’t personal, right?

“Doing well enough. Sent me out for a few things she needed… but the only guy in town is, uh… a bit of a jerk. So I was wondering if you might be able to help me out…” I asked hopefully, lifting up onto my toes with a little bounce.

“Well… maybe. What have you got?” He asked, gesturing for me to hand over my list. I passed it over without argument and rocked back on my heels while he scanned it. The low thrum of a contemplative note in his throat had me holding my breath. After a moment or six, he finally nodded and turned away to his chocobo, rounding the side to flip the flap on his saddlebag. “I might have some of this. If you aren’t keen on waiting for the arse over there, you could always hunt some of it down yourself. About… five hundred yalms north, north-east of here, you could be able to track it down if you are careful.”

“I’m always careful!” I protested, puffing myself up as if it would make me bigger than I was. I wasn’t quite full grown yet so that probably put me at four and a half fulms high even if I stood on my tip-toes. He chuckled and reached over his chocobo to ruffle my hair. As if it wasn’t already a totally hot mess. Thanks Keimfyr. Sinking back, I scowled at him and waited for him to get the rest of my requested items, which I ultimately traded for a modest amount of gil. With a stuffed ruck, I thanked him and promised I would give Garwynn his best for him, before taking my leave, setting off north out of Tailfeather along the Whilom River’s babbling path.

“Should shave an hour off of today…” Talking to myself was fairly normal. Sometimes the voices answered back but for the most part, it was an echo chamber into which I called but never received anything in return. Maybe I should have spent less time talking and more time listening because by the time I shut up, it was too late. The crunch of underbrush met my ears only a moment before the heavy weight of something yellow, red, and musclebound bowled into me from the side. Frumious bandersnatches, curse them all.

I rolled before sharp teeth could embed themselves in my throat, half of my bag’s contents scattering across the ground. Swearing, I ripped free one of the two blades I carried on the regular, a smaller dagger I kept sheathed on my hip. Backhanding my grip, I slashed out to try and gain myself a little space. The tip of the blade only narrowly grazed the bandersnatch’s shoulder and served only to piss it off more than it already was. It dove forward, the pointed edge of a wicked tusk caught me in the leg as I tried to spin away, sending me crashing to the ground with a sharp cry. It gave me enough time to pull the hatchet from my back, whirling it in my grasp so I could lash a heavy handed blow into the its chest as it pounced. The bandersnatch let out a wailing snarl and bucked its way off of me, rolling over then recovering enough to leap at me again. I hacked and slashed over and over, cleaving flesh and fur alike until it stopped moving. It collapsed over my lower body, leaving me panting and pinned down. Not that I could stay like that for long though, the commotion would assuredly draw more predators if I didn’t take my leave as soon as possible.

Ultimately I made it back to Garwynn’s an hour later than I originally expected, bearing just a fraction of what she asked. To boot, I forgot to grab her garb from the mender before I returned. As I limped up to the front door, a fluttering of the nearest window’s curtain drew my attention before the door opened.

“What happened to you?” Garwynn asked, padding out onto the front step on bare feet. I sighed and shook my head.

“Long story. I took a shortcut.” I said with a wince as Garwynn leaned down to poke at the puncture wound in my thigh.

“What have I told you about cutting corners, little one? Come inside, we’ll get you cleaned up.” She put a hand to either of my shoulders and steered me over the threshold and into the crisp warmth of the cottage within.

“What about the stuff? I lost half of it…” Admitting that wasn’t easy, pinking my cheeks with embarrassment. Garwynn passed her hand over my hair and gifted me a soft smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle.

“Never fear, dove. We can get it tomorrow, don’t you worry.”

#FFxivWrite2018 #Saving Time #Cutting Corners #Karma #flashback #Karma age sixteen #dravania #tailfeather #writing prompt

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inevitably-johnlocked · 6 years

Note

Can I please have a list of Christmas fics? Please please please?? Thank you so much! (I love your blog!)

NONNY!!!!! I AM SO EXCITED YOU ASKED ME THIS.

I HAVE BEEN PREPPING SINCE NOVEMBER, because I KNEW this question would come eventually!!!!!!!

SO I ALREADY HAVE THIS LIST MOSTLY DONE, I just had to add the recent ones I’ve read!!! :D

So here you are Nonny! Plus, I’ve added a few I’ve come across that I haven’t read yet and put on my MFL list this month. Those will be at the end :P

CHRISTMAS JOHNLOCK FICS (DEC. 2017)

Undeterred by 221b_hound (T, 221 w. || 221B Ficlet, Christmas, Mistletoe, Kisses) – Sherlock does not approve of this mistletoe nonsense. Though he will make exceptions. Part 6 of The Million Word Festival // Part 42 of Unkissed

Jumper by bofurs_laugh (G, 520 w. || Friendship, Pre-Slash, Christmas) – John wakes to find something he never thought possible. Part 4 of Sherlock Advent Series

Christmas With Sherlock by grannysknitting (K, 830 w. || Friendship & Family, Christmas) – John spends Christmas with Sherlock. Mrs Hudson gets a pressie.

You Can Imagine The Christmas Dinners by johnsarmylady (T, 1K+ w. || Friendship, Family, Introspection, Fluff, Post-ASIP) – Set the morning after a Study in Pink, John sits and contemplates Mycroft’s words. In answer to a challenge set by Librarianmum, and dedicated to that talented lady.

A Christmas Holiday by consultinggalpals (sansa_undergrind) (G, 1,076 w. || Tooth Rotting Fluff, Christmas, Honeymoon) – “Come on, Sherlock. Just take the picture already.”

Upon Reflection, Tenable Frippery by emmagrant01 (T, 1,299 w. || John’s Beard, First Kiss, Fluff) – John was, inexplicably, growing a beard.

Yet What I Can, I Give Him by a_big_apple (G, 1,391 w || Fluff, Kisses) – This Christmas is much improved over the last–mostly because Sherlock isn’t dead–but it isn’t so simple for John to recover from his grief, and he finds comfort in likely and unlikely places.

Christmas by thegirlinthedeathfrisbee (G, 1,768 w. || Mistletoe, First Kiss, Fluff) – John goes home for Christmas–to the Holmes home, that is.

Wintery Hell by Belldere (K+, 2K+ w. || Friendship & Humour, Christmas) – With Sherlock being roped into spending Christmas with his family, John had his own Christmas all planned out with his other friends and family… That is until he’s extended a forceful invitation from Mycroft and an assumption from Sherlock who, once again, failed to notice John wasn’t in the room when he ‘asked’.

Unmapped by 221b_hound (E, 2,835 w. || Christmas Fluff, Kissing, Experiments, Kisses, Saucy Kisses) – Sherlock wishes to explore more about his desires. To this end, he conducts a kissing experiment in the afternoon of Christmas Day. John is all for experiments of this nature. They are going to learn a thing or two together. Part 9 of Unkissed

The Trial of Sherlock Holmes by jenna221b (G, 3,015 across 3 works || TAB!lock, Metafic / TJLC, Victorian AU / 1895, Christmas, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Oscar Wilde) – Scripts based on speculation that Sherlock will be put on trial in The Abominable Bride to parallel the Oscar Wilde Trials of 1895.

Twas The Night by xox-hattii-xox (K+, 3K+ w. || Humour & Friendship, Christmas, Domestics, Fluff) – Twas the night before Christmas…and Sherlock has had just about enough of the whole thing! ‘Really, John, a Santa Hat’ Christmas in 221b, and Sherlock just wants it over with.

Unwrapped by 221b_hound (E, 3,022 w. || Christmas, Fluff, Oral Sex, Feet and Toes, Tow Fetish, Pet Names, Licking) – It’s Christmas morning. John doesn’t really want the Christmas Sex that Sherlock proposes and explains the reasons why. Sherlock discovers a new element of how his desire functions, and later John gets to indulge his foot fetish. Part 8 of Unkissed

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w., Ao3 || Pining, Confessions) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

First Night Out by verityburns (M, 3,251 w. || Romance, Christmas, Dev. Rel.) – As John recovers from the effects of a brutal kidnapping, he and Sherlock attend the Yarders’ Christmas Party. There are… developments on the dance floor…

It Wasn’t Just the Mistletoe by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 3,593 w. || Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, First Kiss / Time, Frottage, Masturbation) – Sherlock and John just stood there, seemingly frozen. Sherlock was desperately trying to think of a way out of this. There was no way he could kiss John, even a small kiss, and not have him know immediately how he felt. Sherlock could lie, and fake and sham, but there was no way he could hide this.

Last Christmas by Mazarin221b (T, 3,911w.|| Fluff, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss) – That Earth-shaking revelation, then, leads to a problem, and one that Sherlock realizes should be solved quickly, before John’s dates turn into girlfriends or boyfriends, because sometimes girlfriends or boyfriends can turn into wives or husbands while your back is turned. Every time John hums happily at the mirror as he shaves, splashes on a little gift cologne Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas, Sherlock is drawn back to that night by the fire, and the way John’s touch had made the world stand still.

Christmas at Holmes Cottage by johnlockedstarkid (G, 4,295 w. || Christmas, Fake Relationship, Love Confessions, Holmes Family, Pining, Kisses, Fluff, Allusions to Mystrade) – Sherlock doesn’t want to have to deal with his mother’s wishes for him to find a partner when he goes to visit them for Christmas, so asks John to pose as his boyfriend. Little does he know he’s not the only one who wishes that the relationship could be real.

Memories Lost on Christmas Day by agnesanutter, PlainJane (G, 4,479 w. || Fluff, Hospitals, Worried Sherlock) – It’s the day before Christmas and Sherlock and John are exactly where they need to be….

Happy Christmas, You Arse by 1electricpirate (T, 4,766 w. || Post-TRF, Fluff, Christmas Fic) – In which evidence is presented that disqualifies Sherlock from being the Grinch, and everyone’s shoes fit them perfectly well, thank you.

Winter of Life by You_Light_The_Sky (T, 5,178 w. || Christmas, Fluff & Angst, Magic Realism) – It was an experiment, really. On Christmas, Sherlock wrote to Santa asking for a friend. He got a broken toy soldier instead. This is the story of how he finds him again and again.

Same Same But Different by Kerkerian-Horizon (K+,6K+ w. || Friendship & Angst) – After Sherlock’s return, a lot of things have changed, things the detective has to learn to contend with- or rather, to accept. A sometime-post-Reichenbach story in two parts, no male pairing. Contains Mary, the puppy Gladstone and Christmas as well.

Surprise Christmas by Ayakae (K, 6K+ w. || Friendship, Sherlock in Disguise, TRF Hiatus, Christmas, Fluff, Mary) – A year and a half after his death, Sherlock tries to give John Watson a happy Christmas without actually revealing himself. The consulting detective thinks his newfound friend can help. Epic friendship.

Maybe This Christmas by feverishsea (T, 6,021 w. || Christmas, Getting Together, Matchmaker Anthea, Anthea POV, Slight Mystrade, Holmes Family) – Anthea has given up her life, her own desires, even her name in service of something greater than herself. But that doesn’t mean she can’t see when someone else wants something – even if she doesn’t happen to care overmuch for that person. And it doesn’t mean she isn’t willing to help.

once upon a time by darcylindbergh (M, 6,501 w. || Fluff and Angst, First Kiss / Time, Love Declarations, Christmas) – It starts with a wish. In the beginning, John comes home. Part 1 of things fairy tales are made of

5687 (Approximately) by prettysailorsoldier (T, 6,771 w. || Alternate Canon, Christmas, Pining, Fluff, Soldier John) – When John’s leave request for Christmas is denied, Sherlock is nothing short of devastated, not that he’s letting it show. The holiday season now something he’s just waiting to end, Sherlock doesn’t think anything can possibly make it worse. That is, until he realizes no one in his life believes his army “boyfriend” is even real, but, luckily, everyone is in for a surprise. Part 13 of 25 Days of Johnlock

that thing you like by misspamela (E, 7,165 w. || Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers) – “Happy Christmas, etc. etc.” Sherlock and John go to the Holmes’ for Christmas, and everyone thinks they’re together.

Christmas by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 7,673 w. || Worried Sherlock, PWP, Drunkeness, Christmas, Est. Relationship) – John feels a lump rise in his throat, and it hits him, again, that this beautiful, infuriating creature is his. Completely, one-hundred percent his.

The Frost Child by twistedthicket1 (M, 9,994 w. || Magical Realism, Christmas, Angst, Fluff, Powerful John) – In a world where people are born with a Gift of varying levels, simple John Watson is the last person one might look at when thinking of any strong Magick capabilities. Hiding comfortably in the shadow of Sherlock’s brilliant deducing abilities, John is content to keep it that way…

Their Great Reward by BeautifulFiction (T, 10,095 w. || UST, First Kiss, Fluff) – Boxing day, in John’s opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there’s a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

Merlot by Itsallfine (E, 14,844 w. || Christmas, Pining Sherlock, Wine, Slow Burn, First Kiss / Time, Love Confessions, Wine, Holmes Family) – Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays. Part of 25 Days of Fic-Mas 2015.

Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing Christmas Spirit by SilentAuror (M, 15,002 w. || Christmas, Domesticity, Post S3, Happy Ending) – John hates Christmas. So does Sherlock, but he suggests that they do Christmas “properly” this year to see if they can’t track down its elusive magic and discover for themselves what Christmas is supposed to be about.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt’s Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John’s family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

Till Death Do Us Part by prettysailorsoldier (M, 15,390 w. || Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Christmas, Fluff) – When Sherlock links a recent spree of murder-suicides to a psychologist who specializes in marriage counseling, there’s really only one thing to do: Go undercover as a couple in hopes of drawing the killer out. Faking a relationship seems easy enough, but things take a turn when their real issues start to creep into the sessions, and, all the while, a killer is watching, waiting in the shadows for their chance to strike.

Never-Ending Cycle by orphan_account (T, 17,211 w. || Christmas, Est. Rel., Proposal, Fluff) – Or, four times Sherlock Holmes attempted to propose to John Watson, and the Christmas Party at which he finally did. Sherlock thinks he’s a miserable failure, John is confused, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade provide some unsatisfactory advice, and Mummy is, as always, the solution. All in a lovely, fluffy holiday theme.

Winter’s Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter’s Delights

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock’s parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, 23,584 w. || Pre-Slash, Drama, Fluff & Angst, Humour, Romance) – Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And “Anthea”, too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. Part 2 of Xmas Dinners Verse

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, H/C, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness’, and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts’ now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. 'Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there’s a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn’t have expected anything different.

John Watson’s Twelve Days of Christmas by earlgreytea68 (M, 53,464 w. || Christmas, Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Alternate First Meeting, Falling in Love, Fluff and Angst, Hardcore Pining) – It’s the holiday season. John Watson needs money. Sherlock Holmes needs something else.

MARKED FOR LATER

These fics are ones I HAVE NOT READ YET, but have been recently MFL’d on my History list, so read at your own discretion. Most of them are Works in Progress, which have been marked “WIP”

A Study in Pink Pyjamas by alexxphoenix42 (M, 1,628 w. || Christmas, Est. Rel., Pink Pyjamas, Fluff, Cross-Dressing) – Sherlock hasn’t been a fan of either Christmas or fancy pyjamas for a number of years, but John has a way of changing his mind about things.

Impossible Things by A_Candle_For_Sherlock (G, 2,413 w. || Est. Rel., Marriage Proposal, Christmas, Fluff) – He’d promised himself he’d do it before Christmas, because otherwise Mummy WILL ask, probably in front of John.

The Biscuits May Look Terrible But At Least We’re Satisfied (E, 2,745 w. || Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Christmas, Fluff & Smut, Christmas Cookies, Jealous Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Voice Kink, Dirty Talk) – The whole baking craze had started two days ago when Sherlock had casually mentioned that he hadn’t eaten his mother’s famous homemade Christmas cookies in years. Ordinarily such a comment wouldn’t have stuck with John, he knew Sherlock wasn’t close to his parents, but the touch of wistfulness in Sherlock’s voice had John calling Mrs. Holmes as soon as Sherlock was in the shower. An attempt at a Christmas surprise and a flirtatious client all lead to some loving Christmas smut.

The Old Town by a_different_equation (T, 3,573 w. || Hans Christian Anderson Fusion || Magical Realism, Christmas, Fairy Tale Elements, Love Stories, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Museums, Sweet Sherlock) – Once upon a time there were two boys. This is the story how once upon December, they found the missing Christmas Spirit, true love and new beginnings. A Queer fairytale for all seasons.

First Christmas by PipMer (T, 3,978 w. || WIP || Est. Rel., Friendship, Fluff, Humour) – It’s Sherlock and John’s first Christmas together as a couple. Written as an interconnected set of 221b’s for the Sherlock December Ficlet Challenge.

Winter Ficlets by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (M, 4,293+ w. || WIP || Christmas, Fluff & Smut, Jealous John, First Kiss / Time, Marriage Proposal, BJ’s, Suit Porn) – A collection of winter and holiday stand-alone ficlets.

Oh, Holy Night by sussexbound (E, 5,311 w. || Christmas, Smut, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Fluff) – Sherlock manoeuvres them towards the bedroom and then lowers John carefully onto the bed. “Take off your shirt and trousers. We should wash the shirt, just to be on the safe side with the poison, and you’ll want the ice directly on the bruise, I assume.” John winces and rolls onto his uninjured side. “You just want me to get my kit off.” “Mmm, well it is Christmas Eve, and I have been a very good boy this year.” John’s eyes widen a little, as a smile teases the corner of his mouth. “True.” Part 6 of Home is Not a Place

Five Christmases that went wrong and one that didn’t by love_in_mind_palace (M, 5,418 w. || WIP || Christmas, Fluff & Smut, Domestics Est. Rel., 5 and 1′s) – John isn’t sure about most of the things in his life. Except for the fact that he loves Sherlock, Sherlock loves him back and that after years of bad luck, he is getting the Christmas he always deserved.

It’s Cold Outside by Salambo06 (E, 7,357 w. || Mutual Pining, Cuddling, Snuggling, Frottage, First Kiss / Time, Bed Sharing, Miscommunications, Love Confessions) – John and Sherlock, Christmas night, the heat broke, add some shared body heat and (not so) accidental erections mixed with some miscommunication and awkwardness and, you guessed it, they’re sharing a bed.

Snowed In by Salambo06, WhatIfIAmInsane (E, 15,687 w. || Christmas, Smut, Unilock, Alternate First Meeting, Anal, Bottomlock, Army!John, BJ’s) – Sherlock had everything planned out for months now. Today he would finally put an end to this case. Even if that meant keeping an eye on his suspect in a crowded, german airport on Christmas Eve. The same crowded airport John was waiting in for his final flight back home from his first deployment to Afghanistan, not at all thrilled by the prospect of spending Christmas with his possibly drunk sister. Although the airport was stuffed to the brim with holiday travelers and tacky decorations, he was enjoying his time alone, mostly. But then, snow began to fall.

On the Table (Eventually John Watson’s Favorite Christmas Story) by emmagrant01, numberthescars (E, 18,135 w. || Post-TRF, Mild Angst, Fluff, Masturbation, Anal, Rimming, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Christmas) – Set after TRF. Someone’s leaving John strange little gifts in the weeks before Christmas. But who could it be?

All I Want For Christmas by Mssmithlove (E, 19,508 w. || Unilock, Mystrade, Christmas, Holmes Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pining) – Taking Sherlock’s platonic university flatmate home with him for Christmas can be a tricky business. Especially when he wishes their relationship wasn’t platonic at all. Part 18 of Happiness Awaits

In Bed by Ellipsical (E, 29,382 w. || WIP || Est. Rel., Sex Toys, Anal, Flirting, Fluff, Kinks, Coming Out, Electrical Stimulation, Vibrators) – It’s almost Christmas, John thinks, and this, this is bullshit. The epilogue to Guilty Secrets. Part 2 of Guilty Secrets

Advent Calendar 2017 by Hotaru_Tomoe (E, 31,994+ w. || WIP || Est. Rel., Lingerie, Fluff, Humour, Smut, Various Universes, Advent Calendar Fic) – My Advent Calendar, 25 one shots from 1st to 25th December, Christmas-ish themed. Each story has its own rating. Part 23 of The English job

“Merry Christmas” I wrapped it up and sent it with a note saying “I love you” by starrysummernights (E, 71,919+ w. || WIP Updates Daily || Post S4, Slow Burn, Mary is Not Nice, Christmas, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Parentlock, Past Torture / Rape) –John has moved back into 221B with his daughter Rosie after Mary was killed, but things are not exactly comfortable between him and Sherlock. After everything that has happened, they are trying to become friends again…and maybe something more. What better time than the Christmas season?! Takes place after TLD.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #christmaslock #johnlock christmas #Anonymous

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queenburd · 6 years

Text

Game Night

9k? Nine fucking thousand words? fuck me. i never intended for this to happen. I NEVER intended for this to get so damn long winded. I am SO sorry.

Alright. Look. There’s a LOT of material here I seem like I’m bullshitting. I have had.... so many..... conversations....... about Kass on Discord. ALL of this is drawn from that. and for this, I am sorry, because it seems like I’m making up 95 percent of it. I’m not. I swear.

That said I don’t pretend to call this nightmare work canon. It’s an excuse for me to talk about Queenie a bit and get into the meat of Kass’s current.... problems, as well as the best way to grow past them, but that doesn’t mean shit 8P

En.....joy???????

Game Night

On occasion, it catches him off guard how he hardly questions the current setup of his life.

Kass is 38, now. He's spent the last two decades of his life distinctly aware of almost every detail of every monster he's come face to face to. Once they were dealt with, he'd wipe the slate clean, do the paperwork, file it, and move onto the next one. If he needed to find a solution to a problem, or find a weakness, he'd demand one instead of ask for it. He'd force a square peg into a round hole until it was effective, shaving it down by his own hand, and then he'd move forward.

He supposes that's why he doesn't find a whole lot of intrigue now, living with a person (a scip) he knows next to nothing about. Any curiosity he might have had has since been pulled out of his soul through his thoroughly scarred kneecaps.

(Taking time to ask questions could get you killed, so it was a waste of time.)

Add to that an exhausting sort of apathy towards life and existence in general, and Kass can figure out fairly easily why he's stopped thinking too hard about the situation. It doesn't really matter, he supposes. The thing he lives with has decided to house him, and there are easier ways to try to kill him, so his death is clearly not an end goal for her. She's not harming him--she doesn't even ask him to do much.

There had been an irritable itch, or concern, at the beginning, that this was all some scheme to get him to "become a nicer person" or what-have-you. You know the plot: be nice to a kicked puppy, feed it a couple times, and watch it become a loving companion. She'd be sorely disappointed, Kass knew, and it wouldn't last long, but by that point he'd figure something out and it would be fine. She'd eventually report to Simon, who would clearly be in on the "get Kass to be nice" scheme, that it had failed, and maybe he'd finally be left alone.

The demands he had waited for never came. May had never sat him down and told him to change his tune. Occasionally, Kass would leave his boots out in the middle of the room, or ditch his dishes by the sink, and expect some comment. At most, he'd come into the kitchen later and find her cleaning them as she made dinner, or his shoes would be moved, and she'd mention that she was on a cleaning spree anyway, but "try not to make a habit of it, okay?"

He had pushed his luck, sometimes. When he could find the energy, could muster the attitude, he would be an incredible ass. He would insult her to her face, he would leave his cigarette holder on the coffee table and drink the last of the milk before she could make breakfast.

And May never even seems to even flinch.

There are some days she seems short on patience, and when Kass pushes her on those days she might snap at him, or her sarcastic responses could come off sharper and meaner than she'd intend. Kass would think to himself, finally, we're getting to familiar territory.

And then she'd pull back, apologize, try to explain that she wasn't feeling wonderful, and move along. It unsettles him.

He doesn't really know how to get under her skin. There are some comments that seem to almost get there, comments about how young she looks or her caw of a laugh, but she'd make a joke right back about it, make fun of herself, and then Kass would feel like he'd made no progress. There's no point in mocking a person who laughs at themself right alongside you.

It feels, to him, like all he can muster these days is apathy towards everything, or a frustration that things can't be like they were before. He feels--powerless, he supposes, and tired, and most of the time numb, and when he's not numb he wants to be angry. He wants control of some kind.

And he can't have any control, because Kass knows nothing about the one person who he's around long enough to consider someone he can use.

Maybe it's his fault for never asking. It isn't particularly like May is a secretive person--she tends to wear her heart on her sleeve. Maybe she doesn't have much use of secrets.

They get along fine, he supposes. On occasion, he will be smoking with the kitchen window open, and he'll spot a familiar back lightning strike across the fence, unmoving. Watching. He takes the time to flip it off and gets back to his smoke, but the distance is more than enough to keep his skin from crawling the way it used to. May will make her presence known through the front door a moment later and Kass will look to the kitchen door, and when he looks back to the fence, the bolt is gone.

After she hands him Frank one cold night, the apathy starts to withdraw a little. Not a lot--there's still so much looming awareness of his obsolescence as an ex-agent--but enough for Kass to look at himself in the tiny bathroom's mirror and think, Christ, my hair's a wreck. That's--that's funny, because he hasn't thought something like that for what feels like years. He hasn't looked at himself in the mirror with much more than disinterest or general disdain for his entire existence.

One afternoon, Kass goes out, and buys himself a razor. He comes back to 3, Tesla Drive, locks himself in the upstairs bathroom, and doesn't come out for almost a half hour.

He comes out with his goatee trimmed back into shape, grabs his roommate by the wrist sharply, and says, "You can draw a straight line. Get the back where I can't see."

To her credit, she catches on quick as she can, and while the top of his undercut is still on the long side, Kass looks at his face in the mirror and almost recognizes the person blinking back. Maybe the lines of his face seem deeper. The shadows under his eyes seem a deeper purple than they'd once been, and his cheekbones seem a little sharper.

But he sees them, now. He didn't see them before. He didn't look. Didn't try.

Awareness starts to return. He sings awful songs in the shower. He bickers with Frank over stupid, unimportant shit, and he still drinks and he still wears his trenchcoat, but May will send him stupid cat videos and he'll audibly snicker. He finally finishes Saints Row 4, and the DLCs, and puts down the game. He's got a lot of time on his hands, he finds.

He starts to pay attention. He goes on walks. He ventures out of his bedroom to sit in the living room with his laptop and leaves windows open to let cold fresh air in.

It seems... stupid. It's not exactly a huge shift from what Kass was doing before, nor is it a change in his personality or his actions. Yet it's less of his being on autopilot, and more of him finding small satisfaction in the actions.

Frank tries to comment on it, from time to time. Kass doesn't have much in the way of a response or retort other than a quipped "no idea what you're on about, BB-8."

The point is, Kass finds himself questioning things again, having more than a passing thought about a subject. He's nowhere near where he could be in terms of interest or enthusiasm, but he's thinking like he used to. He's looking out for himself, keeping his best interests in mind, and that means knowing more about the situation he's in, and any factors he should be aware of that might pose a threat to him.

It's a start.

Rain comes down in sheets on the house, winter slipping into spring in an uncouth manner. Kass kicks off his boots he'd wiped on the mat to little avail, pushing them aside with his striped sock as he shudders hard. His head is cold, the shaved sides proving little defense against the storm, and he sheds his coat to hang it on the door's hanging peg to drip-dry.

"When one feels like a duck, one is happy, my arse," he mumbles to no one in particular.

"What did you say? Didn't quite catch it," Frank replies as he is pulled out of the coat pocket, blessedly dry. Kass makes a little sniff of a noise, examining the PDA to be certain no water slipped into the thick plastic's seams.

"Nothing."

He pushes a hand through his hair as he crosses through the living room and into the kitchen, and then pauses and retraces his footsteps, to the couch, where the lump is snoring softly, now, at 4 in the afternoon.

Skeptically, he checks the whiteboard schedule, and yes, May is at this moment supposed to be at her midday shift, which would be ending in the next half hour. Here she is instead, looking worse for wear, her glasses on the arm of the sofa.

Hm.

Kass opts to ignore the little comatose bundle. He putzes around the house, stealing the pack of oreos from the pantry and his laptop from the bedroom, and settles into the recliner in the living room with two cookies already stuffed fully into his mouth. The snoring is not distracting, for how soft it is, so when he pops his seat back and pops open Plague Inc, he zones it out.

So it's not the ceased snoring that has Kass looking up from his game (which, unfortunately, is not going in his favor in any way) but the tiny whine that May makes as she stretches and uncurls herself from the blanket. She arches her back and then relaxes again, squinting at him in a worn, confused way.

"What."

"Y'got crumbs."

Oh. Kass scrubs his face with the end of his sleeve, brushing crumbs out of his beard. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

May struggles to sit up from her little bundle with a grimace. "I felt like shit this morning, so I called out. Could tell I'd be more of a hindrance than a help if I went. Pass me a cookie?"

He tosses an oreo, and it thuds off the back cushion of the couch onto her chest, shedding crumbs. May tilts her head, lips pursed, before she nods. "Didn't mean that literally, but okay. Thanks."

"Any improvement?" Kass asks, disinterested, popping another cookie into his mouth.

"A little. Not much. I just feel exhausted and useless, I guess." May sticks the cookie into her mouth, munching quietly, and then reaches behind her, and slips her glasses on. "I. I also think I might be stuck here."

He snorts, watching her try once, twice, to pull herself up, and fail each time, and then balances his laptop on the arm of the recliner. "Stay put."

Kass stands, and slips into the kitchen. When he returns, May is peeking at him from over the couch with clouded curiosity.

"Wassat."

"That is Irish cream and root beer." He hands her one of the glasses over the couch, sipping his own tall glass and moving back round to close his laptop and drop beside the small girl. He grabs the remote and flicks on the TV.

"Why is alcohol your go-to for bad moods. This is a horrible coping mechanism."

"So, I should drink both glasses myself then?"

May curls defensively around her glass. "No. This is mine."

"That's what I thought."

She nurses the glass while Kass flicks through Netflix near-thoughtlessly, bored. "I should really get up and cook dinner...."

Kass tsks, flicking down. No, no documentaries, no thrillers this evening, thanks. "I'll order a pizza. Stay put, princess. Hey, Frank, what're you in the mood for tonight?"

"Hm! Well, the boys were watching the wonderful new version of, oh, what's his name, Billy Niel?"

"What, with my card? Don't do that."

"Bill Nye, Frank. Fine, Bill Nye Saves The World it is."

"Kass, do not use my card to buy pizza, payday's not till next week."

"Would you shut it, birdy." Kass drops the remote, and squints impatiently at his couchmate. "I have two secret bank accounts I've managed to keep funneled funds from Foundation days,I don't exactly need you to--"

"What."

"Oh, what now."

"I've been giving you my own money for groceries!!!"

"Yes. And it's very handy petty cash for cigarettes, thanks for that."

May stares at him for a long moment, face scrunched up in dramatic disbelief, and then slowly, intensely, raises a middle finger. Kass laughs hard enough to start a coughing fit and raises his phone to make the order.

An hour later, they're digging into a meat-lover's pizza and their third glasses of spiked soda. Kass has opted to bring the whole bottles out, set on the edge of the coffee table besides the open pizza box. He watches May in his peripheral vision, as she picks the loose pieces of bacon off her slice and pops them into her mouth.

She's not drunk--Kass hasn't given her nearly enough alcohol for that. He's never really seen her drunk, but she does get giggly and at ease. It's the ease he's looking for.

It's been a while since he's had an ulterior motive. He's probably a bit rusty, but Kass is, quite frankly, sick of being in the dark about the people he's around, when they have all the facts about him. So when he tops off her glass with an extra kick of the Bailey's, he asks without any change in his tone, "How the hell does a literal figure of royalty end up working retail?"

"Same way an ex-SCP agent ends up living in her house," May shoots back, sticking her tongue out at him immaturely. "Are we asking questions now?"

"Is that illegal?"

"Like you ever do anything legal, buzzboy." She dives into another slice, sucking the crumbs off her fingers and thumb. "I'm just saying," the girl continues, gesturing with the cup a bit, "You've been here like, what.... two months? And I'll admit I was expecting it way earlier."

Kass sits back, unsettled. She's done that thing again--he hates it--where it's almost like she can see right through him, and she never makes a big deal out of it, and it makes the back of his neck itch. How does she do that? Is he that obvious? Has he gotten that bad at this?

"But, I mean, it's fine. You're an adult and I don't mind, ignore my snark. Actually--" He's caught off guard by the finger pointed in his face, "Let's play a game!"

"I don't think I want to play a game with you."

"Hush. Here's the game. Back and forth questions about each other--you ask one, I ask one, you know. Until somebody wants to stop. And--" she says emphatically, "before you get all zip mouthed on me--"

"Zip mouthed?" Frank asks at the same moment that Kass mouths the phrase in utter horror.

"Zipper mouth. Like in cartoons?"

A blank stare.

"Christ--tight lipped, s'at better? Before you get all tight lipped on me, you can pass on a question. I get that lying is second nature for you, but honestly, there's no need to--if you don't want to answer a question, then just say 'pass'. Other person tries a new question."

May chews for a moment, and then smiles with a full mouth. "That's not so bad, right? Sound like something you want to try?"

Kass feels the tension in his spine--it had been mostly relaxed up to the moment he'd been called out for what he'd been doing. It feels like looking into the mouth of a trap--he's not stupid enough to stumble right into it without staring it right in the teeth first.

"I'd rather not. There is an opt out option here, yes? You imply there is an opt out, and I think I have better things to do with my time than let you prod me with--" he wraps his index and middle fingers around the phrase-- "personal questions."

Her smile becomes a full-cheeked pout, before May swallows and says, "I mean, nobody's forcing you into anything here. This isn't a contract or something. I just figured... you probably have a ton of questions but don't know how to ask them." Her shoulder goes up in a half shrug. "You're the kind of person who will try to get information subtly so the other person doesn't know you're giving it, but I'm offering. It's easier like this, isn't it?"

Hell--again?

Kass looks away from her, at the screen, unseeing. The part of him that's been waking up again--the one that is aware he's sitting beside a scip, and knows how dangerous that is--is trying to tell him to run. He's trusted that voice for so many damn years when he didn't trust anything else.

But it's just not as strong as it once was. The apathy, and more importantly, the curiosity and interest, they are stronger than that voice for now, because--

He's not an agent anymore.

"This is an incredibly boring game you've designed--at least make some stakes if you want my interest, bird."

"Oh?" May asks, curiously. "What stakes?"

One last effort to make her back out before him.

"Make it a strip game when someone passes--"

"No? Are we fourteen and dating? Are we two idiot children in a bedroom with the door slightly ajar because of parents? No, christ." May snorts loudly, shaking her head. "Don't be a teenager."

"Then make your game more interesting or I'm going back to an actual game with real stakes." Kass downs his glass, and looks at the empty thing, mouth a thin line.

"Hm. Is there enough alcohol in that bottle for a shots game?"

He lifts the bottle in question, weighing it. "Er--maybe. Shot when a person passes a question?"

"That sounds fair, yeah?"

A voice chirrups before Kass can reply. "This sounds like fun! Can I play?"

"How is that supposed to work, then, Frank?"

"Yeah, um, I would say two people questioning me is a little less fair than one."

Frank pauses as though in thought, and then chimes pleasantly, "Well, I suppose if you ask Kass things and he decides to lie, I can just correct him for you."

Kass blinks, taken aback, and then turns the PDA, mic down. "Stay out of this, Frank."

"Oh, let an old man have some fun!"

May laughs behind her fingers, cheeks round and pink. When she finally regains her composure, she grins at Kass again, knees pulled up to her chest. "So? Are we playing?"

Kass gives her a dead stare for a moment, and then huffs out through his nose.

"Fine. I'll bite."

She settles against the couch arm, apparently pleased, and gestures at Kass vaguely. "Okay then. Ask your first question."

He's put on the spot. He's not one to freeze in headlights--self preservation has always assisted in that, but Kass again finds himself thinking how ridiculous this all is. This--everything about this is bizarre.

"Come on, don't close off on me now, dude."

"Fine, fine, give me a bleeding moment to think, won't you?" Kass snaps, busying himself with refilling his glass. "Right, okay, I suppose I'll ask again. How does the literal ruler of birds end up working in retail? Is it for shits and giggles?"

"Pff," she starts, "like anybody would work retail for giggles. I, mm." The girl shrugs, "I gotta make money somehow. I mean, I don't necessarily need to, I was just staying in bird form and had physical nests for a while, but I was always saving up and working odd jobs. I was saving for.... years, jeez."

She stretches in place, continuing, "I wanted to be, yanno, a person, and having a house is way more comfortable than a nest or having an apartment. So I've been working for a while--I just don't make a big deal about it, yanno?"

Then May hums, settling back. "Hope that was a decent enough answer. Gotta fake being a person somehow. My turn."

Kass waits, avoiding her gaze by staring at the screen, and doesn't really relax when she says, "Okay, here's my question."

"Shoot, pipsqueak."

"How old were you when you joined the Foundation?"

Oh. Diving right in, apparently.

Kass scratches behind his ear. She's got balls, he supposes. It's an innocent enough question.

"About seventeen or eighteen--probably closer to the latter. It was less of me joining and more of them grabbing me by the scruff of the neck while I'd been hostel jumping cross country."

There's a followup question in her face--he answers it unprompted. "I was scip hunting on my own until they turned up. I was good at it too--good at staying alive, at least."

He does not expand further--it goes into a sort of unpleasant territory. Normally, Kass wouldn't mind bringing up further details, watching people squirm, but--

The memory of Pickman's hand raised to strike, and he had been maybe twelve, and--

He didn't particularly want to think about it.

Whatever the case, he's answered the question. The girl across from Kass is waiting expectantly, smiling crookedly with her arms wrapped around her pulled up knee. He took another swig of his glass and then set it on the coffee table, turning his body to face her.

"Alright, tweety bird, explain the things you can do to me. I know you're a shapeshifter, and I know you can do some party tricks, and I'd like a clearer picture of the kind of thing I'm dealing with."

"He comes out and asks!" May says dramatically, throwing a hand in the air. "By jove!"

"Hey, you overgrown tit, this was your idea. Mockery doesn't suit you as well as it does me," Kass remarks sharply, ignoring the tsk from the PDA. "Shut it Frank, a tit's a kind of bird."

"Just because you say it is, does not make it true."

"Nope, nope, Kass is right, there's an entire species of bird called tits," the girl says with a bit of a cackle. "Are you proud of your pun, Kass? Be proud."

Her smile is almost too wide for her face--it's like nothing ever bothers her. Nothing gets under her skin. When she finally talks, it's without restraint or discomfort.

"Most of my abilities are healer and protector based--every queen kind of goes for a theme, I guess." She holds up her fingers, adding one as she goes. "I can heal from.... basically any damage, no matter the severity. I can, um, transfer other people's wounds to myself, which will still heal in record time with light and heat. I can produce shields, I can turn into multiple bird forms, I can see potential energy, mm. Supposedly I have creation magic, but I've never really tried it out."

Kass squints at her. "Why not just call yourself a phoenix?"

"I mean, I suppose I am, but phoenixes are more Greek in origin and the crown is more Egyptian based? Semantics. Plus, I don't like being a phoenix when I can be more unassuming. Oh!" May said suddenly, lighting up. "Also! I'm a major empath."

"....what."

She grins, the smile a little more conniving around the edges than Kass would like, as pieces slide into place far too smoothly.

"Oh, titfuck. You're completely serious."

He's met perhaps a couple empaths before, safer locked up Scips that just had a strong tendency to unnerve people. He hadn't liked it then, either.

"Sorry, dude. You might be unreadable to most everybody else, but I can pick up your tension a mile away."

Kass makes a small, aggravated noise, and pinches his brow hard. A fucking empath, he should have realized far earlier what he was dealing with, but the level of numbness had gotten in the way, and hell, it's painfully obvious in retrospect. He remembers, vaguely--

"Can I ask--what's eating at you?"

"You can deny it as much as you like, but I know what it looks like when someone's considering lying down in the road as a legitimate option."

She had known, this entire time. Maybe the kid isn't a mind reader, and maybe she doesn't always get it right, but Kass is suddenly very clearly aware of his mood, and his frustration, and his numbness that he's felt for months.

May curls up, her knees pressed to her chest. "Hell. I'm sorry man--if it's any consolation, I try really hard to give you space, I try to not intrude other than to.... be nice when you don't seem well."

And is that a consolation? It's not a major one--it feels like she has the upper hand on him.

Well.

Kass decides, very maturely, to scowl, and down his entire refilled spiked drink in a single go. When he finishes, he sets the empty cup back down, and wipes his mouth on his sleeve with all the energy of a pissy rooster, filled with too much energy. "Right. Well, now I know, don't I, Jean Grey."

"Oooh, an empath with the name Phoenix, that's a double whammy, nice." May blinks at him above her knees, smiling in what seems to be a conciliatory manner. "Please don't be too mad?"

"I'm not mad, christ, what am I, your dad?"

"You seem mad," she replies, a touch quieter. "Or at least pretty annoyed. I'm really sorry--I can't exactly control it. It's a passive thing, it's always going."

"I'm fine," Kass says sharply, as though it's not--well, not her he's speaking to, but someone who knows when to quit. "Just ask your damn question, princess, it's your turn."

The girl seems caught off guard, as though she had expected him to have an outburst, or, more likely, end their little stupid charade. When she speaks again, she clears her throat to strengthen it.

"Y--You said you used to go cross country. What are some places you visited, both as an agent and as a teen? Any favorites that stick out?"

His mouth still feels pinched in unpleasant ways, but Kass massages his jaw. "Give me a second to think--Frank, did you have any favorites?"

"Oh, me? Well, I suppose I was just quite happy to be out of my cardboard box, but if I had to choose, I thought some of the upper east coast was lovely! It was, oh, where was it--Vermont, that was it!"

Kass is pulled out of his mood, caught off guard. "Vermont? The Brunswick one? Really?"

"Very relaxing, if I recall. A quick discussion with the natives patched up the whole thing, didn't it?"

"Right, you would look at it like that." He looks up, and May is blinking at the pair of them in curiosity and wonder. "Right. Well--I was kept mostly on this half of the continent after recruitment. Before, though, I had started out in southern California and worked my way northward and eastward, I suppose."

Kass rubs his chin in thought, and continues. "I bused, hitchhiked, and took trains when I could, to Chicago. Made some pit stops--visited San Francisco once."

She lights up then. "It sucks, right!?"

"Oh, absolutely, awful prices for shit food and atmosphere."

"Oh my god, thank you. California's a damn nightmare, it's so hot."

"It's terrible."

She laughs a little. "God, I lived in the Bay Area for most of my life, I hated almost every second of it. What a wasteland."

"That's where the orphanage was, you know. St Andrew's Children's Home was in California. Of course, it was closer to the mountains, where snow actually existed."

"California snow. An oxymoron if I've ever heard one," May shakes her head in disbelief. "Jeez. You're up."

Kass steeples his fingers, eyeing his roommate, the side of his mouth drawn up. He can't tell if it's a scowl or a smile. He still feels on the edge of uncomfortable, displeased with being so easily read. He's uncertain if he can salvage this, bring the odds back in his favor.

Finally, he settles on pursuing his previous route. Kass points his pressed together fingers in her general direction.

"You clearly talk about a time before being the queen, so one has to assume you were just a human before. How did you become the queen, with all these powers?"

May's smile turns into a sort of pursed, uncertain expression. She looks a bit at war with herself, and Kass waits, watching carefully as she sits upright from where she'd been prone.

"Sorry, give me a sec, I'm trying to figure out what I can and can't tell you." When she's finished readjusting herself, she nods once as though coming to a compromise. "Okay, this is a bit of a story."

He sits back and waits.

"When I was in college, I went abroad to different parts of Europe. I had always loved mythology and stories," May explains, gesturing a little bit as she speaks. "At one point, I found this story that seemed.... expansive, but underdeveloped? As though there were missing details, vague notations. And I started looking for these details, and the more I looked, the more it became almost a treasure hunt. I followed it--I'm not one to do things halfway."

May isn't looking at Kass; she's not looking at anything, really. She's fiddling with the necklace absentmindedly.

"I found the crown, and--the story had told me what to expect, but it wasn't like that at all, it was so much more. It's alive, a living thing, and it looked at me, and it said I had to earn it. So I did."

May refocuses on him, and smiles a little sheepishly. "It--well, this part's a bit unpleasant--it basically ripped me apart and remade me into this. It made me into something that could endure pretty much anything in the world. I know that's not very clear, but I can only say so much about the process other than how I got to it."

Kass squints. "You followed a story and found a priceless relic?"

A sheepish nod.

"Christ. You're all living in a fantasy land. You're a Disney protagonist."

She snorts quietly, and her smile is small. "My turn?"

"Yeah, shoot."

She fidgets a bit, looking round the room, and refocuses on him. "Okay, um, disclaimer. Simon's an enormous blabbermouth, even though he means well."

Well, yeah, Kass knows that. He hates it.

"He told me about the whole thing with O'Malley--mentioned it, really. I never prodded it, it wasn't my business, but I was wondering if I co--"

"Pass," he replies darkly, already grabbing the creamer bottle by the neck and drinking it straight.

"Okay. That's fair. Sorry, let me think of something lighter." A few beat pass, before she follows up. "Okay, here's a stupid one for you. Favorite season?"

Kass snorts as he screws the bottle cap back on. "You're right, that is a stupid question."

"I don't see you going to drink."

He harumphs. "...If I've got to choose, then fall. Early fall, before it gets cold enough to freeze your ass right off."

May hums in response. "That is a very pretty time. All the leaves, and just the stillness."

"....Yeah," Kass says. "I suppose."

"S'your question. Take your time, no rush."

Kass thinks for a few long minutes. In the short time they've played this game, he's learned a hell of a lot, and most of it more concerning than calming. It's not everything, though, and some answers have caused more questions. For example:

"Alright. Riddle me this, Pidgey--if you're an empath, and you know the kind of person I am, with multiple somewhat reliable sources, then how in the hell have you maintained your temper. How are you so damn bleeding patient and, christ, altruistic? Don't you get sick of it?"

He's not really looking at her as he asks, more involved in his own gesturing and his own mild self loathing. Between them, he can hear Frank gently chiding his snappish tone. "Kass..."

When Kass finally looks at May, he is caught off guard by the expression on her face. It's comical disbelief.

"Bitch.... I am the angriest person I know!"

"Wh--"

"I am so angry all the time!!! I work in retail! I get mad about fictional characters! Loud noises are upsetting and don't even get me started on screaming children. I got mad about rompers the other day, Kass. Rompers. I hate them so much. Does this look like a patient person with a good temper?"

"Oh my word," Frank says, and Kass can't help himself from laughing, hard, like barking, so caught by surprise at her outburst.

"Angry birds isn't just a game anymore Kass!"

"Oh my god."

May sits up aggressively, pointing a finger in an accusatory manner at him.

"You think you're the worst? I've had roommates leagues worse than you! Leagues! You think you come even close to the medal for grossest, or rudest, or most infuriating? Bitch, my college roommate rented an apartment with me and within four months, made sexual advances on me, never apologized, lost his job, and didn't pay his portion for the last month of rent. He lied about getting me the money for three weeks, and avoided me the fourth. And then!"

She throws her hands into the air, absolutely incensed. "When I moved out and the leasers cleaned the place, they sent me pictures of the mess he left behind. Including, I shit you not, numerous, still dirty and used, sex toys."

".....No. No."

"Yes!" May squawks. "You could try for centuries and never reach the level of disgust I managed to gather for that man child! Do not flatter yourself!"

Kass, equally horrified and amused, flinches away as she kicks childishly in his direction without much energy behind it. "Alright, okay, calm down, chrissake."

She huffs, and then releases all the energy she's gathered from her chest, coming down from her intensity. "Like, yes, I try really hard to be nice, and give people a hand. That just comes naturally to me. But I'm also super impatient and I have my limits to what I'll tolerate. As you can see, however," and May gestures aggressively again, "It's a very skewed, curved limit. You're better than anything I've dealt with before. Take from that what you will."

She is still making a face when she settles, of utter disgust, and then she shakes her head rapidly as though to clear it. "Christ. Sorry. That guy was just. Gross."

"I've gathered that, Tweety. Do yourself a favor and take a breath, why don't you. It's your go."

She does take a breath, and releases it in a raspberry noise through her lips.

"Good lord, young lady," Frank says, seeming a touch harassed. "You worked yourself up something fierce."

"I like to swear, Frank. Don't tell me you're not used to it."

"From him, yes. Not from you."

"Psh. Don't you start judging me, sir."

That had been something to see, certainly. Kass settles back, smirking, hands behind his head.

"I don't like that face you're making," May grumbles.

"It's still your turn.”

"Oh. Right."

She makes a small huffing noise, relaxing. Kass watches her brows furrow in thought as he waits.

"Okay," she starts, "Here's an easy one for you. When's your birthday."

Kass pauses. Scratches his nose. She's waiting for him to respond, and he figures, well.

"You know? I don't actually know."

"Wh--"

"Hey, Frank, do we have a general date on the calendar for me to celebrate being alive on this hellscape one year longer?"

"Actually," Frank says, sounding mildly surprised. "I can't say we do. I... hm, give me a mo, here." There's a beat of a pause as the PDA flicks through itself slowly. "No. No birthday dated here. I know my memory's not the most trustworthy, but I would--I know for a fact I'd have noted it if you'd told me."

"Ah, well, there's your answer. I've never been one for special occasions, in any case." He shrugs, rolling his shoulders.

"You... you're serious?"

"As a heart attack. Don't know it."

"But..." May seems at a loss, and then she straightens, disbelieving. "But you have to have had something on your paperwork. For like, everything--IDs, social security, Foundation file work."

"They're all made up, Magica. The IDs have been fake since my files burned down in the fire." Kass waves a hand. "I've never had an interest in finding the real date. Not much to celebrate, clearly."

"Oh."

May gets quiet. He watches her frown, relaxing back into the cushion with an air of uncertainty.

"It's my turn, yeah?"

"Oh--yeah, go ahead."

Kass sits up, reaching again for the root beer and creamer. "You mentioned college a couple times, before you became queen. Tell me about life before you went abroad."

"Pass me the bottle."

"Hm?"

"I'm skipping the question, pass me the creamer."

"Oh," Kass says, offering the bottle by the neck. May grabs it and tips it back, swallowing a mouthful and wiping her mouth with her sleeve. That's the first question she's skipped tonight.

"I'm not gonna answer any questions about things like family or childhood. I'd like to go on the record and say that. Try again, bud."

He purses his lips as he takes the bottle back. "Fine, then. Just college. What was your major? Did you finish after you got crowned? Christ--how old even were you?"

"That--That's more than one question, dude," May says, smiling crookedly.

"Sue me, I'm just trying to get a grasp on the situation."

"It's fine." She waves it off, accepting the refilled glass Kass offers her.

"I was... shit, I think I was nineteen when I found the crown? I'd been in college two years. I'd been majoring in illustration--yes, I was an art student, stop snickering," she snaps, kicking his hip gently. "God... I think this was five years ago? I can't be sure. I stopped aging. It stopped mattering."

She stares at the contents of the drink, and Kass finds she's not smiling.

"I'd gone abroad because I'd been kicked out of my family's house. I'd been running from a lot of things, and when I found the crown, it gave me an out. I could be... an entirely different person, I could look and be however I wanted to look and be. So. I did."

A deep inhale, and then she downs about half the glass in one go. "Forgive the tragic backstory, I'm not much one for it. I try not to look back too much on that stuff, that life and the person connected to it is pretty much out of the picture."

"Don't miss it?"

She shrugs. "Every so often I'll miss maybe a homemade meal I never got the recipe for, but that's kind of about it. The internet solves that in a heartbeat."

"Good," Kass says, grinning. "I'm not one for sob stories."

"I figured as much," May replies, smiling back. "Good to keep going?"

"I can go a couple more rounds." Kass tips his own glass back. The creamer is a strong kind of alcohol, though the root beer punches through it a bit. He feels pleasantly warm, but not at all drunk.

Then again, his drink of choice is whiskey. Kass knows how to get drunk.

"So, I mentioned earlier that Simon is a blabber mouth?"

"Not another one of these," he says, a touch snappy.

"Hear me out, okay?" May is hesitant, cheek scrunched up. "He told me about Jumanji, and. Um. Pickman. And I'm not asking about that!" she corrects hastily. "I just wanted to ask about--The Foundation in general. What it was like. Was it all like him? The system, the individuals?"

His gaze flicks between her and the mostly empty Bailey's bottle.

She's not asking about him, Kass in particular. She's not asking what happened to him, what Pickman was like and what Pickman would do. If she had, he'd have finished the bottle, and called it a night.

He doesn't really need to play this game anymore. He's gotten what he was looking for.

Kass thinks.

He makes a decision.

He's not an agent anymore.

"Pickman was a good face for the Foundation. He was--" He cuts himself off, starts over. "Look, Pickman was an ass, and I hated his guts, but he was right about dealing with monsters, and, more importantly, dealing with idiots. He knew what he was doing. He knew how to get to a scip's soft points, and people weren't much different."

Kass presses his fingers to his temple.

"The Foundation thrived like that. They weren't all as harsh as him, but they were hardly any different. We were trained to do what we could for civilians, but in the long run, it didn't matter. To the Foundation, civilians are like..... cattle. We'd keep the wolves away, but cattle was too dumb to really be cared about. If a cow died, well, there's plenty more, just clean up the corpse."

A flick of the wrist, a sharp gesture like waving off a bug.

"Most agents tried to view each other with some level of respect. We got spoon fed "you're smarter and better than the rest, and you're going to survive" in the beginning, and we ate that shit up. We were told we'd be taken care of, that we deserved it."

May is quiet. Frank is quiet. Kass keeps going.

"We figured out the scheme fairly quick. I found out quicker than most. I didn't try to make friends--we were all going to die because of something like you, anyway. We'd be handling things fine, and then a Keter would show and in four seconds, a team would be gone, and it didn't matter. It's not as if those higher up on the chain were risking their necks beside us, we meant little more than D-Class did, but we got to smell fresh air and do something."

It's bizarre, looking from the outside in. He's spent two decades an agent, and he used to be proud--he used to be like Dib. He used to wonder, to be curious, but none of that mattered when you just wanted to get to tomorrow, to the next bullet, to the next drink, to the next file.

"...it was something, though," he finishes. "The first few scips, the first couple keters, you were terrified, you had the piss scared out of you, and you came out of it high on adrenaline and terror, as well as the thrill of knowing you were alive. That--" he chews on the inside his cheek a moment. "That died out pretty quickly."

It's all poison, isn't it? He'd been told he was smarter, better, and maybe he saw through the lie that he'd be taken care of fairly fast, but the praise? He'd fallen for it, hook, line, sinker. And then he'd gotten his kneecaps yanked out from under him by a couple of kids, and suddenly Kass had stopped being all those things. Maybe he never had been all those things, maybe he was just as daft as the rest of the godawful human race.

This has been the loop in his head for months now. It always comes back to this. He can't make it stop--he's never even put it into words before this moment.

Kass is not--well, he feels a full range of emotions, much to his own chagrin, but he's always been skilled at burying them in alcohol, drugs, and work.

He feels like he's been numb for so damn long, and he was frustrated about being numb, but this is why. This is what his body did to cope, it locked down to keep from the breakdown. He doesn't want to break down.

"Kass--"

May's fingers touch Kass's upper arm, and he flinches away instinctively. She pulls her hand back, just as fast. "Sorry. I'm sorry. You were closing up. Do you want to stop?"

Stop? And be stuck thinking these thoughts, dealing with the aftermath of putting them out in the open? Stop and deal with the way his body wants to shut down, despite everything he's done to try to be better? Stop?

He shakes his head. "No, I'm not done. It's my turn."

"Trilby--"

"Shut it. You--" Kass turns sharply, a finger in May's face. "You dumb little bird. What are you trying to achieve here anyway?"

"Wh--"

"Are you singing the same tune as Ninja Gaiden? You want me to become a "nicer person"? You want me to be thoughtful and considerate? What's the point of your stupid game, princess?"

He wants to be nasty. He can be nasty. He wants to sneer in her face, and show her how pointless this all is.

He wants answers. He wants to know why nothing has worked.

God, more than anything, Kass wants the truth.

May blinks up at him, thick brows furrowed, Her eyes are gold and unreadable.

"Pass."

He tilts his head. "Sorry, have I gone deaf?"

"Pass."

"Why's that, then?" he sneers. "Because I'm right?"

"This is why!" May retorts. "No matter what answer I give you, no matter how truthful I am, you're not going to believe me. You'll come to your own conclusions. You'll think I'm lying! You're a skeptic. Why try?"

"Give me something, birdy! I don't care what it is, I just want some semblance of an answer--are you too daft to manage that much?"

Her mouth is a hard line. "You see? You don't want the truth. You think you know my thoughts better than I do."

Kass scowls. He drops back into the couch, and picks up his laptop. He's done. He's done with this.

"...This has really been bothering you, hasn't it?"

There's a sort of vulnerability in her voice, and concern. Fuck--she's doing it again.

"Stop that," Kass mutters. "Stop reading me. I don't like being kept in the dark, that's a given."

He can hear her sigh, can feel the cushions shifting as May slides from the end of the couch to the middle, beside him. She sets her glass besides his on the coffee table.

"Kass, I don't really--" May starts, then stops uncertainly. "You think I want you to change, you expect that I'll demand these things of you. I don't--god, Kass, you're--"

She begins to laugh.

"You're such an ass, all the time. You're sarcastic, and you're vindictive, and you're mean, and you're sharp. That makes me so happy!"

Kass looks up from his laptop to her, brows and mouth pinched. May continues, unhindered, her smile overpowering in her voice.

"You make me laugh so hard. You think I'm... naive or altruistic or pure or whatever, but I've got an awful sense of humor and your dark humor is so often right up my alley it brightens my day. And yes, you're a prick! I wish sometimes you knew when to shut your damn mouth!"

On cue, he opens it, and May holds up a finger to silence him, still grinning. "But I'm an enormous drama queen, so I have no room to talk!"

Kass pauses, then nods, closing his mouth. May breaks into a new set of giggles.

"I don't want those things to go away. That's you, and I wouldn't have invited you into my home if I didn't like the person I saw."

Kass closes his laptop.

"I just want.... I'm an empath, Kass, I know you've been through a lot lately even without knowing the details. I know you're always so on edge, and being in that house didn't help. Call me crazy, but I just wanted you to have a place that you could possibly grow to feel safe in. Hell, maybe even happy."

"You're right," Kass says flatly. "You're absolutely insane."

"Yeah," she agrees. "A little bit. I'm kind of an optimist, I guess--but I've felt trapped too. I've felt like I couldn't breathe, and that things would never get better. I've felt that general distrust and cynicism." May shrugs. "I got tired of it."

"Good for you, Emu."

"Tch," the girl snickers, and when Kass meets May's eyes, he sees her honesty. She's a shit liar, really she is. She hasn't succesfully lied to him yet.

"Can I ask my question now?"

"I didn't realize we were still playing," he replies, flicking off the Bill Nye show to opt for something else. Oh, new season of British Baking Show. He turns it on.

"We don't have to..."

"Oh, don't sound so eager to leave." He drops the remote into her lap, and finishes his glass off. "Fine. Yes. Go ahead."

May is sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. She doesn't ask her question immediately, instead fidgeting with Frank, who she has put on her lap as she had moved closer.

"Do you think--and, I, I know I sound like Simon when I say this, but do you think we can consider each other friends?"

He's distinctly aware of how she's a little tense, maybe even anxious. Maybe sheepish too, and she should be--this is stupid.

"Because--I want to be friends with you, Kass. I like being friend-ly with you, but I don't want to push any boundaries you aren't comfortable with because I got the wrong message."

This is what catches him off guard--it's May asking, not because she wants him to feel less lonely, or what have you, but because she doesn't want him to feel forced. It's... considerate. A strange kind of considerate.

"If you don't want to be friends, that's fine, Kass. I understand. I'm not going to try to drag you into, god, I don't know, I live a way less eventful life than the boys do." May hands him his PDA, and in the corner of his eye, Kass can see her mouth, a small line of uncertainty.

"You seem to have some idea in your fluffy little head that just because I’m here you’ve got a free licence to drag me into whatever irritating bollocks you and Cantaloupe Head are up to this week. Looks like you need a reminder that not everyone is down with your particular brand of Enid-Blyton-on-acid hijinks."

“In-no-possible-universe, are-we, or-are-ever-going-to-be, friends. Look in the mirror a few times, maybe it’ll sink in.”

Simon hadn't worn the little message Kass had written for very long--his friend had had plenty of experience getting grafitti off skin, and they had snapped to it right sharp. But the message seemed to have sunk in, to some level. Yes, Simon had been exceptionally apologetic lately, after the board game had deigned to spit Kass back out give or take (mostly take) a few decades.

Yet, there is still some level of space, however minute. Some wall the boy can not cross, because he, Kass, refuses to let someone else so certain about Kass's actions and abilities be proven right. It's spite, mostly. The harder the boy had pushed, the further into himself Kass had retreated, like an angry snapping turtle.

May doesn't push. Maybe she should, lord knows it would be easier for him to say "no" flatly and move forward from this.

She doesn't enter his personal space often, and she pulls back at the first sign of irritation. She--christ, the stupid bird is supportive and kind and all the things right in the world, no matter what argument she would make otherwise. And this, this thing wants to be friends with him. Him!

Kass doesn't remember the last time he had a genuine friend besides Frank. He has a feeling he'd be rather terrible at it.

"I'm not exactly.....proficient at the skill of being friends with people, you know. It has a tendency to go hand in hand with being nice."

"Yeah, I don't imagine it's your strongest area of expertise," she replies, looking at him from the corner of her eyes.

She wants this? She knows exactly the kind of person he is, all the awful things he's done to her friends, and she likes being near him?

Kass shakes his head in disbelief, and then, as though resigned, says simply, "Hell, if you want to consider me your friend, if that doesn't absolutely destroy your reputation in society, then I can't necessarily stop you."

He can feel her entire body relax, relieved. May is smiling crookedly, eyes crinkled up with real happiness. What a little weirdo, he thinks, and it's almost fondly.

The moment is ruined by a crackly old voice.

"This is very mature of you Trilby. I'm quite proud."

"Shut your trap, Frank."

The girl can't hide the small giggle that slips out behind her fingers that have covered her mouth. "I-If it makes you feel better," she says, in a little, still bubbly voice, "I'm not about to call you Trilby."

"I would actually, physically, get cigarette ash in your hair if you did," Kass grumbles, relaxing against the couch beside May.

"You monster."

"You chose this path literal seconds ago."

She huffs a little laugh that shakes her chest once, and then reaches out, retrieves her glass, and offers it to him. He accepts, downing its contents.

It's hard to tell if tonight is a success. On some level, Kass feels emotionally spent, and ready to sleep deeply. There's a part of him that has stored away the stories May has told him, to look into later. There's the awareness that she's not as infallible and patient as he had believed, and the sharper knowledge that Kass has let more of his skin show tonight than he would have really liked.

May is warm beside him. There's still pizza left over, for tomorrow, and a little Bailey's and some root beer left. He feels fairly worn out, however. He's ready for quiet.

"D'you," May asks quietly, "have any more questions for me?"

He hums, and then, halfheartedly, mutters.

"Favorite...... Marvel movie?"

He feels her laugh. It feels nice.

"Thor Ragnarok. Duh."

#birdy blogging #May Writes #Kass #Queenie #may loves teslaverse #im absolutely INCENSED by this thing #i didnt mean for it to get this long!!!!! at all!!!!#IM SO SORRY MOBILE USERS!!!!#I WEEP FOR YOU!!!!!#I REALLY DO

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