#giving him advices on how to be a good monk but yet the monk hurt wukong and just broke him

[real-sun-wukong-fan01]

The saddest thing about sun wukong trauma is that he might not even realize he is traumatized, maybe he genuinely thinks he has changed.

It was what? The 1500s? what we count as "abuse" and "trauma" they probably viewed it as discipline, so that's why Tripitaka was so harsh on him, to "discipline" sun wukong, (dosen't excuse anything though.)

Even though, I'm not too sure of why would everyone use sun wukong as a weapon and just brush it off, that's not discipline,

Maybe they didn't realize, or well, Tripitaka didn't.

who knows.

I relate to sun wukong too much it's worrying

[hypnomicimagines]

20 with kuko please:D!(gn preferably)

Harai Kuko: 

You’d never seen Kuko look at you like this.

There was this burning rage behind them, completely unprompted by anything you had done. He couldn’t even give you a direct reason for the hatred spewing from his mouth, the anger he was directing at you over imagined scenarios. Kuko was an honest boyfriend, he would never start a fight just for the sake of it which left your mind reeling even more. How had you not seen this coming?

“Kuko…!” You reached out to touch his shoulder but are met with a heated glare, the monk slapping your hand away from him before you could make contact. You looked at him wide-eyed, thinking the momentary regret you see flash in his eyes as just an illusion, something you wanted to see. You held your hand to your chest as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, wishing more than anything that you could hurt him in the same way he had hurt you.

But he’d already said he didn’t care about you, about your feelings, that it was over.

There was nothing left for you to say to him.

You remember sobbing when you got home that night, hastily deleting the pictures you had of him in your phone, trying to wipe all memories you had of him. Kuko had been such a positive pillar in your life, you had grown alongside him for so long, you had thought you really knew him inside and out yet this hit you like a bullet. It happened so quick yet the pain of his words still lingered, you couldn’t help but think he wasn’t acting like his usual self. You no longer had the strength to question it though, too afraid of facing his wrath again; Kuko really was a scary person when you were on the other side of his anger.

It’s been years and yet you still think of him.

You tried to rationalize that it was just because he was your first love, of course you missed what you had with him because it had been intense. Being with him was unlike any romantic encounter you had, including the relationships you attempted to get into as a fresh-faced adult. You knew you were still young but there was the lingering fear that no one would ever make you feel the way he did, that you were missing an important detail and that blocking his number had been the wrong thing to do. But you had protected your heart in the only way you knew how, trying to look toward the future rather than back at what once was.

Kuko had been the one to give you that advice…

You were happy to be starting your new job at Amaguni Law Offices, having heard great things about your boss. You were hired as an aide to the secretary but you were hoping to directly assist with cases one day, not knowing if law was exactly the right career but wanting to see change in action. You were having a relatively good day, you found you were quite good at speaking to distressed clients and scheduling their appointments was a breeze once you understood how the computer system worked. The secretary seemed relieved to have you with her as she said work tended to be fast-paced and overwhelming with just her, it left you feeling good, like you had a real purpose.

Everything was good until you had to see his face again.

You’re hidden behind the computer and don’t look up at first until you hear the sounds of footsteps walking past you, having been expressly told to not let anyone interrupt the meeting your boss was having. You jumped as quick as you could, you had been making a good impression all day and you weren’t about to let some teenage punks ruin that for you. You reached out for the shorter one, hurriedly asking him if he had an appointment before you’re stopped in your tracks.

When Kuko’s eyes met yours it felt like the world had stopped, the same way it had when he had stomped on your heart. Your mouth went dry and the expression on his face was completely unreadable but you had at least gotten him to stop walking. The taller of the two, a boy you didn’t know as it certainly wasn’t Ichiro, looked at the two of you with confused eyes. Your heart was beating rapidly and it felt like no air was reaching your lungs, you knew you couldn’t stay in the same room as him much longer. Maybe if you had been prepared to see him you could’ve taken this but this was the most unwanted surprise you could ever have on the first day of work.

Hitoya walked out of his office to see why there were people lingering at his door, eyebrow raised when he sees the staring contest occurring between you and Kuko. He hadn’t looked away from you yet, it seemed he was still processing like you were but you bet he didn’t hurt like you did. He was the one who left you in the dust, after all.

“I have to go.” Your eyes flickered to Hitoya’s briefly before you made yourself scarce, gathering your belongings and leaving the law office as quickly as you could. You kept your head ducked down as you walked through the bustling city streets, hoping to get lost in the crowd, to just blend in among the people and disappear completely. You would have to give Hitoya a proper apology later and accept that potential firing at suddenly walking out on your job, but you couldn’t stay there a second longer.

Why did he have to look at you like that?

You’re exhausted and out of breath when you’re finally home, heading straight to your room without a second thought. Your head is spinning, heart still pounding, anxiety flaring up as you think about how you’ll have to grovel to Hitoya in hopes of keeping your job. But did you really want that if there was a chance of seeing Kuko again? You had avoided this problem for so long that when it came rearing it’s ugly head you were at a total loss of what to do, the pain unfortunately fresh.

‘He looked good,’ You thought miserably, ‘His hair looks better not slicked back. I bet he’s still causing problems for his dad… I wonder if he matured anymore.’

You wished you didn’t still have this odd fondness for Kuko, the lingering feelings of love. You couldn’t just hate him despite what he had said to you because there was still a part of your brain that felt total disbelief at the turn in behavior he showed. He had always been respectful, a teasing brat for sure but he knew what was too far and what your boundaries were. Your Kuko would never…

You couldn’t think about him like that anymore.

He wasn’t your Kuko.

He was just Kuko.

Your phone began to ring and you were reluctant to pick it up, but seeing as it was your boss calling…

“…Could you come back? I think we should all talk.” Hitoya paused to allow you a chance to process his request, “I’d like for you to continue working here with me, you show promise and you’re quick but I won’t put you in an uncomfortable situation. I can recommend you to other lawyers in the area who have openings.”

“Okay.” Your voice is soft, so quiet he almost didn’t hear you, but he lets out a relieved sigh. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

You feel just as awkward as you did when Kuko first walked into the office but with Hitoya and their other friend here, it felt considerably less awkward. It’s not to say you didn’t still feel like curling up into a ball but your former boyfriend wasn’t exactly being his normal loud self, something that left you both unsettled yet entirely grateful. You don’t know if you could take the usual Kuko energy right now but it seemed like your personal shields were getting ready to leave the room to give you both a chance to talk it out.

“If you have a question then ask it.” Kuko’s gaze was steady as he looked you square in the eye, something that pissed you off just as much as the fact that he was the one to start this conversation. You had thought of countless things you wanted to say to him over the years, that you hated him too, that you didn’t deserve to be talked to or yelled at like he had, that you deserved an explanation, that you missed him.

“Why did you break up with me?” There’s hesitation in your voice, as if your brain didn’t think about the consequences of learning the answer to this question before you had posed it.

“I…don’t know.” Kuko still seemed calm but you could hear the hints of frustration in his voice, “I wanted to come see you. To talk about what happened but I couldn’t… I didn’t have an explanation for what happened. Everything I said to you…”

“You said you didn’t have feelings for me! You said you hated me and my face and that you never wanted to see me again!”

“I know what I said, damn it!” Kuko sighed, crossing his arms. “All I can tell you is that I didn’t mean it. I did in the moment but after… Whenever I think about it, it’s just a blur. I didn’t want to bother you if I couldn’t come up with a proper explanation for my actions but I don’t think there is one.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I know it doesn’t! I didn’t want to bother you without being able to offer a proper apology which would require knowing why the hell I did what I did!”

“So why are you apologizing now?”

“…Because I saw you again. At any moment life can present you a crossroads, a chance to lead you closer to your personal truth or further away from it.”

“I’m glad you still talk in tongues but I don’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean.”

“I’m not the same person I was back then, and I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’ve never forgotten what I’ve said to you, I could see how much it hurt you and I wanted to stop but there was this feeling inside of me… this burning rage that wanted to be taken out on anyone close. You’re not the only person I lost that day.”  

He seemed sadder now, vision clouded by past regrets, but the look is quickly wiped from his face replaced by a more confident smirk. It was the old Kuko you knew and loved, the troublemaker who had a good heart even if he was a bit brash. You could see that he truly had grown over the years, likely having much more room to do so but as a monk there was always growth to be had. To truly help people he would have to experience as many things as he could, truly understand people, so you could see how what happened to him was especially annoying from his perspective.

“I don’t. I don’t forgive you but I’m really tired of being so mad at you. I know all about you and the rap thing and Mr. Amaguni being part of your team so I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”

Kuko didn’t want that, he didn’t want you to stay out of his way but he knew he had no right to request anything else. He simply nodded his head in agreement, wishing he was the type of man who could speak up for what he wants rather than watching the person he loved walk away from him once more.

[inkweaver22-blr]

Phew! This one gave me a bit of trouble to get out! Here we have our second big reveal of the story! Let’s see what happens.

AO3 Link

<Previous | First | Next>

Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Five: Timely Assumptions

Tang gets more than he expects at the start of one cycle. This leads to a few startling realizations.

----------

Tang looked up into the frightened expressions of the much younger Sun Wukong and Macaque as his body continued to disappear.

“I-” Being erased scared him. Would he wake up in a new cycle or simply cease to be?

Tang weakly lifted his hand, desperate to do something, grab something to ground him. Anything. Anyone!

“I don't w-want to go-”

He faded out of existence, not hearing anything else they might have said after. The last thing he saw were their horrified faces.

----------

The cave. The voices. The light.

----------

Tang woke with a gasp, his heart racing.

He had died before, but accidentally erasing yourself using a time-traveling peanut cactus was a new and terrifying experience.

The scholar took a few deep breaths, grounding himself with the fact that he was still here and hadn’t been deleted entirely. He had never been so relieved to be stuck jumping between timelines before now.

Tang winced as he remembered the anguish on the faces of the two monkeys he had befriended. He hoped his vanishing hadn’t traumatized them too much. If they were lucky they wouldn’t even remember anything now that the version of himself that had gone back in time had never existed in the first place.

God, time travel was confusing.

He glanced around his room and noticed a book on his nightstand. Picking it up, he was slightly disappointed to find it wasn’t the one on constellations he had used to teach the younger Macaque how to read.

With a sigh, Tang got up and prepared for the day. There was no point dwelling too much on what couldn’t be changed. Once dressed he stood in front of the mirror and began his little remembering ritual.

He first checked the date on his phone. It was still a few days before MK would get the staff so nothing of real consequence should be too different yet.

Taking a deep breath the scholar began reciting what he remembered about himself this time.

“I am the immortal monk Tang Sanzang-”

Tang choked as he doubled over in pain.

Hundreds of years of memories flooded through him. He collapsed to the ground and clutched at his head as it pounded in agony from the onslaught of innumerable experiences.

Tang crawled over to his bed and leaned back against it, his eyes shut tight and hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block out the rushing thoughts.

Living humbly as a monk. Being chosen by Guanyin. The journey. Sun Wukong. Bai Long Ma. Zhu Bajie. Sha Wujing. The many, many demons they encountered.

(How had he ever been so naive?)

Completing the journey. Becoming immortal. He, Bajie, and Wujing choosing to live on Earth instead of in Heaven.

(Pigsy was Zhu Bajie and Sandy was Sha Wujing!)

Wukong sealing away the Demon Bull King and vanishing. The three of them searching for him tirelessly. Never finding him. Giving up and living the next five hundred years without him.

(He should have never given up. He should have kept looking until he found his beloved disciple.)

It was all too much to handle. Tang needed time to process everything.

He called in sick to work, which with his short breath and trembling voice wasn’t questioned too closely. After sending a text to Pigsy (Zhu Bajie!) so he wouldn’t wonder about his absence at the shop, Tang pulled himself onto the bed and pressed his face into the pillows.

The headache and whirling memories prevented him from falling asleep, so he tried to focus on one thing at a time.

In this cycle he was the immortal monk Tang Sanzang, sometimes also referred to as Tripitaka.

There was still just so much to unpack in that single thought it made him a bit dizzy.

Tang had never been anyone other than himself in all the timelines he’d been in. His roles may sometimes be a bit different but he had always been Tang. He had theorized once that it had something to do with how every soul was unique so he literally couldn’t be anyone else.

His breath caught as he realized the implication that brought.

Tang’s soul was unique and thus he couldn’t be anyone other than himself in the various timelines.

In this timeline, he was the monk Sanzang.

In order for him to be both himself and the famous monk simultaneously, their souls had to be exactly the same.

That meant he wasn’t the monk in just this timeline, but in all of them, including his original time.

Oh Heavens, he was the reincarnation of Tang Sanzang.

Tang gulped in several breaths of air as his mind blanked out. He needed to focus. One thing at a time.

Pigsy was Zhu Bajie and Sandy was Sha Wujing in this timeline.

After the previous revelation, this one was much less earth-shattering.

He had always known that his group of friends mirrored the original journey’s group closely. Pigsy and Sandy also being reincarnations of their historical counterparts in his own time wasn’t much of a stretch.

Tang’s breath slowed as he began to calm. What was next?

Wukong disappeared and the trio searched for him. They never found him and gave up, assuming the monkey to be dead.

This was upsetting in an entirely different way. Tang knew Wukong was still alive thanks to the events of the original timeline, and that made the guilt of giving up even worse. He’d have to fix that.

Tang sighed in relief as his thoughts finally slowed and the pain ebbed. He still had a lot to work through, but that could wait for later. Going back to sleep sounded heavenly at the moment.

He had just started to doze off when an errant fact suddenly popped into his head.

Wasn’t Tang Sanzang already a reincarnation of one of the Buddha’s original disciples, the Golden Cicada?

With a groan Tang shoved a pillow over his head and attempted to beat back the thoughts from whatever that implied about him.

He didn’t sleep very well.

----------

“So what’s this all about Tang,” Pigsy asked grumpily as he accepted a mug of tea from Sandy. It was late at night, a few days after the release of the Demon Bull King, and the three of them were meeting privately at Sandy’s ship on the scholar’s request.

Tang took a sip from his own mug as he studied the two other immortals. Had it not been for his own memories on the matter, he would have never guessed that they were two of the five companions of the legendary Journey to the West.

Zhu Bajie had been, no pun intended, pigheaded, crass, and ornery. He seemed to be contrarian whenever he felt like it and relished in trying to get one over on Sun Wukong. Tang couldn’t deny the pig demon’s ability to rise to the occasion when the chips were down however. For as much trouble Zhu Bajie seemed to cause, he’d been invaluable a fair number of times as well.

Sha Wujing lived to fight. His rage and battle-lust had definitely caused their own share of problems. Other than that, the large river demon tended to be the quiet one of the group and didn’t open up until the latter half of their journey.

Tang wasn’t blind to his own faults though.

Tripitaka, (after some meditation, Tang had decided to refer to his past self as such to avoid confusion with the name Tang Sanzang), had not been ready for such a perilous adventure. He had been too trusting of strangers, too proud to believe Wukong’s warnings. It was his own incredible naivety and insistence that he knew better that had led to the vast majority of the dangers they had found themselves in.

It was hard to reconcile who the three of them had been with who they were today, but Tang supposed five hundred years would change most people.

Pigsy still had a gruff exterior, but his desire to start trouble had long since faded. His discovery of a love for cooking had unlocked a surprising work ethic within the pig demon as well as a silent form of affection that he treated any he cared for with.

Sandy had sought out a therapist and took anger management classes. His love for battle long since extinguished, the river demon now spent his time taking care of his cats, making tea, and being supportive of his friends.

Tang was certainly not naive to the ways of the world any longer. He still did his best to treat any strangers he met with kindness and respect, but he never fully believed anyone new to be trustworthy until they showed themselves to be. He always listened to the advice of his friends as well, knowing that he didn’t know everything and those around him might have insights he did not.

Tang placed his mug down and steepled his fingers together.

“We need to tell MK, Mei, and Wukong who we really are.”

“What?!” Pigsy's angry reaction hadn’t been unexpected. They had made an agreement some time back to not reveal themselves to anyone. It was less to do with having to deal with annoying fans and more with avoiding the painful memories their identities brought with them.

If it wasn’t for the fact he had been hopping through timelines and saw first hand how hiding things from people hurt them, Tang was certain he wouldn’t have been making this decision.

“I said we-”

“I heard what you said,” Pigsy interrupted. “No way! Nuh-uh! Not happening!”

“Now hold on brother,” Sandy soothed, placing a comforting hand on the chef’s shoulder. “Let’s hear him out first.”

“This better be good,” Pigsy grumbled and slouched back into his chair.

“Which do you think will go over better? Us being honest with them about our pasts, or them discovering the truth on their own?”

“They won’t find out if we’re careful about it,” Pigsy countered.

“They will find out,” Tang stated with absolute certainty. “Whether it’s the kids putting the pieces together themselves or Wukong recognizing us, there is no doubt that this isn’t going to stay a secret for long.”

Sandy seemed thoughtful but the pig demon simply huffed and crossed his arms stubbornly.

Tang stared directly into Pigsy’s defiant eyes. Looks like he’d have to pull out the big guns.

“How do you think MK will react once he finds out that we, that you, have been keeping something this important from him?”

With a sharp intake of air Pigsy froze, his expression changing from defiance to horror. He leaned over, placing his face in his hands and groaned.

“Oh god. He’d- he’d feel like I didn’t trust him. Like I didn’t care about him enough to tell him.” The chef seemed miserable at the thought as he looked up. “Okay, we can tell the kid. Mei too, I guess.”

Tang shared a glance with Sandy. Neither had missed the exclusion of Wukong from Pigsy’s concession.

(When did he stop being the Monkey King to Tang?)

“So, uh, will we tell big brother before or after we tell MK and Mei,” Sandy asked, eyeing the pig demon warily.

Like a switch had been flipped, Pigsy’s anger returned in full force, his face twisting into a hateful scowl.

“We ain’t telling that bastard nothing,” he snarled.

“Pigsy,” Tang scolded, shocked at the amount of venom in his voice.

“No! He doesn't deserve it! Not after letting us think he was dead-” Pigsy’s voice broke slightly as he continued his rant. “Not after avoiding us for five hundred years!”

Tang took a steadying breath and pushed down the irrational emotions and hurt that wanted to agree with Pigsy’s stance. He needed to be calm if he was to convince one of his oldest friends to go through with this.

“Assumptions, my dear friend, are very dangerous things,” Tang said.

“Huh?” Pigsy looked confused at the seeming change in subject. Good, that meant he was paying attention.

“We never found Wukong after he disappeared, so we assumed he was dead. We continued to assume such for five hundred years,” Tang began, speaking clearly and with emphasis to be sure he was understood. “We now know our assumptions were wrong. Now you are falling back into the same mistake.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You are assuming that Wukong knew we were looking for him. You are assuming he hid from us intentionally. You are assuming that he knows we’re still alive.”

“Wait, what,” Sandy exclaimed. He had seemed to be following along with the conversation up until that point and now looked alarmed.

“How do we know Wukong didn’t fall into the same trap we have,” Tang explained. “That he didn’t just assume we were gone, either through death or reincarnation? With that assumption in mind, why would he ever think to go looking for us?”

There was a tense silence as Tang let his point sink in before finishing his argument.

“We can no longer assume things. That only leads to misunderstanding and hurt feelings. If we are to learn the truth we must actively look for it. To do that we must be honest with Wukong.”

Pigsy stared at him for a few moments before sagging and plopping down into his chair.

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Tang breathed a sigh of relief as Sandy chided their friend about drowning your feelings in alcohol. That was the first hurdle down.

Now for the hard part.

----------

In the end they decided to tell all three of them at the same time. Just to rip the whole band-aid off in one go so to speak.

It hadn't been too hard to convince MK to get Wukong to invite them to his island. He hadn’t welcomed them into his sanctum however, so they had a picnic on the shore near the waterfall curtain instead.

The food had been quickly forgotten once they began their explanation.

MK was upset at first at having the truth withheld from him, but some heartfelt reassurances and a teary hug from Pigsy had earned them his forgiveness. He bounced back rather quickly and immediately began launching questions excitedly at the trio.

Mei had simply accepted the revelation with great enthusiasm. She had pulled her phone and began live streaming a “Q&A WITH THE JOURNEY TO THE WEST CREW!!!”. So much for anonymity.

Tang gave an amused chuckle as the young adults pestered Pigsy and Sandy as he glanced at the uncharacteristically silent Wukong.

The Monkey King could have been carved from stone with how still he was, his expression frighteningly blank.

“Wukong?” Tang swallowed nervously as his first disciple turned to him with that empty look. “Do you want to say something?”

That had apparently been the wrong thing to ask.

“Do I want to say something? Do I want to say something?!” The empty stillness was immediately replaced with restless agitation as Wukong leapt to his feet and began to pace back and forth angrily. “Oh there are a lot of somethings I want to say to you three!”

“Hey Mei? Stop streaming for a bit,” MK said quietly as he pulled her a little ways away from the group. Tang would have been extremely proud of the emotional maturity the kid was showing, but he currently had a very pissed off monkey taking up most of his attention.

“How could you do this to me?! How could you even think of leaving me to be alone for five hundred years,” Wukong shouted at them, confusion and anger and hurt pouring from every word.

“Big brother, we-” Sandy tried.

“Don’t you ‘Big Brother’ me, Sha Wujing!” The way he spat out the name like a curse made the river demon flinch. “You all abandoned me! I thought I was never going to see any of you again! Yet here you all are!” Wukong clenched his fists as he glared at the three immortals. “WHERE WERE YOU?!”

“Where were we? Where were you,” Pigsy threw the question right back angrily. “We looked for you! For a century we searched! That’s more than what you can say!”

“And then when you got tired of it you gave up! You gave up on me!”

“WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!”

“I MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN!”

The anger bled out from the air at that confession and Wukong seemed to crumble into himself. Pigsy looked stunned, Sandy was nervously wringing his hands, and Tang’s stomach was twisting itself into a painful knot.

“I was alone, Bajie. My brothers were gone and I was left by myself,” Wukong trembled as he hugged himself. Tang had never seen the proud warrior look so small before. “For centuries I had nothing but my memories and grief. Sometimes I wanted to be dead. Maybe then I’d see you again.” Wukong fell to his knees as he looked up at them with tears running down his face. “I missed you all so much.”

Tang felt his own tears falling as he rushed over to embrace Wukong who began to openly sob. Sandy and Pigsy soon joined in and the four of them simply held each other as they let their pain free.

“We’re so, so sorry Wukong,” Tang said. “I promise you we would have never hurt you like this intentionally.”

“I- I know,” Wukong hiccuped, clutching to the three of them tightly.

“We won’t ever leave you alone again big brother,” Sandy vowed.

“We’re stuck with each other from now on, no matter how much we may get on each other's nerves.” Pigsy’s joke earned a choked laugh from Wukong.

Two more pairs of arms entered into their group hug as MK and Mei joined them on the ground.

“Please don’t be sad Monkey King,” MK said. “You have Mei and I now too. You aren’t alone anymore.”

Wukong just began to cry a little harder and held on a bit tighter at that.

The six of them stayed like that for some time, holding each other up in silent support and comfort.

As they sat there, Tang was a little overwhelmed by how right it felt to be holding onto the others. Love burned in his chest as he enjoyed the warmth of being this close to his family.

Oh.

Oh.

They were his family, weren’t they?

That wasn’t just another assumption. These five, across any timeline, were family to him, and he would always care for them as such.

Any lingering doubts about being Tripitaka melted away. It didn’t really matter who he was or had been in the past. All that mattered was the real love he felt for these people that were precious to him.

As long as he had that, he could overcome anything else that came his way.

----------

You didn’t think I would write a Tang-centric fic and NOT have him be Tripitaka did you? It was inevitable honestly.

I'm not sure if I characterized Sha Wujing correctly here, but Sandy canonically went to anger management so I made some (hehe) assumptions.

Speaking of! Count how many assumptions are made in this chapter! There might be more than you think~

The story referenced in this chapter is Tang’s Time Adventure by Poddlebud. It’s a fun little romp with a unique ship. It’s a shame we didn’t get to see the conclusion played out here…

Until next time!

[vidavalor]

Can we talk about how Sam is as useless at this as Bucky is, really, and it’s massively sweet?

Yeah, I’m writing about Sam because we all love us some brainwashed, century-old assassin endless array of hurt/comfort here but this idea that Sam, because he’s a therapist and not always a crying, nightmare-sweat-drenched mess, is Captain Got It All Together is not truth... because this poor broken-hearted kitten absolutely does not and it makes him so much more of a better-realized, fuller character... 

I’m not trying to wade any ship wars here or any fandom strife over the Bucky slant to fic/sometimes erasure of Sam here... I love both of these characters equally and ship them but my point here is that I think that because Bucky’s trauma is more well-documented and, for lack of a better word, “flashier”, that some people might think Sam looks perfectly well-adjusted. By comparison, he probably is but this other, quieter story happening with Sam is necessary reading here if you’ve been sleeping on the complexities of one Sam Wilson that aren’t the ones the show is focusing on more explicitly relating to his lived experience as a Black man in America. (They’re not completely separate either but not only this part of his life.) What do I mean, exactly? 

Been wondering how these two are falling in love but can mainly just get it from Bucky’s POV because Sam is awesome and Bucky is sad and need love? Not sure what Sam is getting out of his relationship with Bucky? Not totally sure you ship it but leaning that way? Yeah, pull up a seat because this thing I wrote after Ep 5 here (so spoilers through that) is basically an old-school ship manifesto at this point but comes at SamBucky/WinterFalcon from Sam’s side, rather than Bucky’s. (I have nothing *against* Bucky. I just think you’re missing half the goodness of this show and half the surprisingly tender romance of all of this if you are not focusing on Sam as much as Bucky.) If this interests you, then read on, being forewarned that it’s a little long...

So... Sam Wilson is a sweet, kind, warm-hearted, empathetic, drop-dead gorgeous superhero soldier flying military veteran therapist... whom the canon suggests is Bucky Barnes-level obsessed with his dead former partner (in some sense of the word), Riley. You thought it was just Bucky with the angsty past love? Oh no... oh, no no no....

Consider that Sam’s been back in Delacroix twice now in TFATWS and not once has his sister-- who adores him and who knows everyone in town-- suggested that she call up any one of the at least ten decent single people she has to know who live in the area to take her f*cking *dreamboat* of a brother out. Forget the show putting Sam in like twelve pieces of canon and not throwing a single human (not named Bucky) at him and what that implies-- we all know that Sarah wouldn’t care what kind of human her brother was attracted to and yet she and the entire community of Delacroix can’t seem to find this guy a date. He’s sweet and hot and an Avenger but our Sam’s a monk, you guys... More to the point... they don’t even try. They know better than to try anymore... which says a lot.

Going back awhile now, when Sam met Steve, he was still this equally dreamy and he didn’t even have any Avengers-related problems getting in the way of his potential dating life. He had a normal job working for the VA in DC. Yet, he clearly was seeing exactly no one and while I am willing to admit that pretty much any human would drop everything and follow Steve Rogers around the world, it’s clear that Sam wasn’t seeing anyone at the time because his life was able to be dropped in a second and he also had that file with Riley’s photo at the ready, man. At. the. ready... 

He responded to the opportunity to follow Steve with no less need when it came to his own post-trauma-of-war identity as Bucky does. This isn’t to say that Sam is *as* lost as Bucky because it would be hard to out-do the once-brainwashed assassin who has been alive for a hundred years but Sam saw all sorts of hell. He’s a therapist for veterans because he’s had to get beyond *his own* PTSD and he’s really aware of how that is a journey that doesn’t exactly ever end. It gets significantly better and he knows how well it can-- that’s why he can tell Bucky that there is hope of that-- but it is very clear that Sam Wilson is still suffering his own kind of PTSD and his own grief for the death of a guy who likely couldn’t love him the way he needed him to. 

I know we don’t know a ton about exactly what Sam and Riley were but I think there is enough to infer that they probably actually weren’t a couple. For one thing, Sarah never mentions him and even if the show wanted to be vague about things, they could phrase it like “it’s been forever since you brought back someone to the house, haven’t met any of them since Riley” or something. There are ways to infer that they were a thing and the nature of it, if the show wanted to do that but all they have suggested so far is that Sam was in love with Riley. We know he and Riley were friends and worked on the Falcon suit project together but what we are getting out of what they are giving to us is that Sam loved him but it’s not clear that they were even a couple. I’d even say the picture of them that he shows Steve and Natasha is supposed to evoke that they weren’t a couple-- it’s of Sam looking at Riley, smiling like he’s the moon and the stars, while Riley is smiling but just a bit and he’s looking at the camera, not at Sam. 

In other words, remember Miller’s analogies from school? Sam is to Riley as Bucky is to Steve. I just offended every person reading this who thinks that Steve and Bucky weren’t an unrequited thing *ducks* but I feel like we’re supposed to take from what they give us that Sam knows a little something about being mad for a guy who thinks you are his best buddy but doesn’t look at you in a romantic or sexual way and you feel like you’re dying over it. Sam gets Bucky because Sam *is* Bucky when it comes to this. 

If Sam and Riley were just the best of friends, Sam still would have mourned him greatly but it would not necessarily have impacted his love life the way it seems like it might have. I’m not necessarily saying there was no one but this is a man who even when it felt like Steve Rogers-- whom Sam obviously found attractive-- seemed like he was making Sam question whether or not he was coming onto him or just super-nice and making a new fellow veteran friend... even when that was happening, Sam’s response was that he didn’t hate it or anything and he was willing to help Steve with what he needed in this friendly, advice-giving sort of way and maybe they had a thing, who knows, but it was clear that Sam-- a guy who has to be hit on *all the time*-- wasn’t really used to the idea of there being someone in his life. So, he wasn’t letting anyone into his life. He would have had the chance, no doubt. He was choosing not to. Why would you choose not to? If you were grieving the loss of a man you couldn’t get over and you thought that you weren’t ever going to love anyone like that and maybe having someone wasn’t going to happen for you.

Like, imagine Sam’s surprise when The Winter Soldier turns up, nearly kills them all, disappears and they go on the run and he starts hearing Steve’s confessional stories about the guy who was his best friend and in love with him and Steve has literally never said those words aloud because they’re from the *1940s* and he’s felt guilty all this time for hurting him. Steve’s the kind of guy who would feel guilty for not being in love with someone who was in love with him. That’s when Sam, who thought he had more in common with Steve, realizes he’s actually *Bucky Barnes* in this story. He’s the damn Winter Soldier in the Steve-and-Bucky version of him and Riley. 

That is how Bucky evolves from “the kind of guy you have to stop” in Sam’s mind to the guy he’s hanging out with in every fight and snarking over the car seats with. He’s like yeesh, I thought I had a few years of this ungodly pain and that was bad... this poor bastard’s been in love with a Riley who could and probably will live until he’s a hundred and thirty. Sam starts getting into this whole antagonist origin story of The Winter Soldier here because he realizes that one wrong move-- one case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time-- and he could have been captured during the war he was in. He could have been tortured like that, so easily, and he knows what it’s like to be tortured by love in that way. 

Bucky, for his part, when he begins to get his mind back and more fully remember Steve and his past, takes one look at Sam and is thinking like... that poor SOB... oh, look, it’s 21st Century Me. So, you fell for Steve Rogers, huh? Welcome to the club. We meet every Tuesday at two to discuss being the pining best friend in love with a guy who, in all likelihood, is attracted to both of us but unless Tony Stark can shake loose a bit of the freak in The Star-Spangled Man With a Plan, we’re not getting anything but a most earnest and sincere friendship out of this (and if Stark can’t, no one can....)

Like, Bucky’s Steve love is pretty pure. He wants him to be happy. He’s hurt that Steve doesn’t love him the way he loves Steve but he does love him as his best friend as well and wants him to have what he wants out of life. If that’s going back in time to Peggy Carter (who wouldn’t, really?) and leaving him behind then, fine. He wishes he were still here but he’ll deal but he’s going to be keeping an eye out for the other guy left behind-- Steve’s new modern era best friend person. Bucky’s so gone over keeping Steve safe that he can’t even resent Sam’s presence-- he’s thrilled he exists. Someone good to look after Steve when Bucky couldn’t! Sam Wilson is heaven sent and must be protected at all costs! So frequently from some kid with webbed fingers, apparently! 

Sam, meanwhile, is challenged by the dilemma that Bucky appears to think that they’re in the same boat while Sam, who for sure had a little crush on Steve as who doesn’t, has really come to realize that he is far, far more into the tragic one here. He’s so irritated about it. It would be simpler if he just fell for another blond soldier with red, white and blue blood who couldn’t love him. At least he’d just be completely hopeless then but the brainwashed one? The one that thinks he’s horrid but is so good that he can’t even bring himself to be that jealous of Sam when he clearly thinks Sam is sleeping with the guy he’s loved for years? 

Oh, Sam’s gone on that one... 

Bucky’s still a mess then so it’s harmless enough to just pretend he’s not writing himself into touch-starved Bucky fanfic in his own mind here but when Bucky keeps saving him in different fights? When he catches him looking once or twice. When the bickering is really flirting and Sam knows he means it that way, too? When the poor guy just gets his mind back, they all reunite and go to one battle and then the two of them disappear and miss *five years* of their lives? When then, soon after, Steve is gone, too? 

When it begins to feel like *they* are now the story and meant to go through the rest of these things together? I mean, when everyone else is all on about the fate and destiny of it all-- Stark’s big sacrifice being the one way to save everyone, Doctor Strange going on about all the possibilities of the universe on a saving the world level but it so personal to the people Sam and Bucky know, Steve choosing to go back in time because he can and be with the woman he loved and never got to have... 

...standing there in the funerals and aftermaths of all of this together, by virtue of being Steve’s Friends Who Aren’t Really Part of This Gang Exactly... are Sam and Bucky. What are the odds that they are supposed to be the rest of one another’s story? Sam was wondering it. He for sure hadn’t felt like this since Riley... he might not have really ever felt it at all before. 

Can we just admit that while there’s been some guys in the past-- and it could be rephrased as ‘some people’, as while Sam is written to suggest he’s at least into men, he could be into people who don’t identify as men as well-- but there’s not been someone who has been able to love him the way he’s loved them. 

He’s from the South and Black and the show taps into the racism he’s been through as a result. Not obviously in Delacroix, where he feels safe and seen, where people care about him and don’t care that he is not straight, but in other parts. He’s been in the military, where homophobia is still pretty rampant and it’s a culture of a lot of heterosexual machismo. (Hell, the show even has a kind of walking, talking example of a guy everyone knows was the epitome of that kind of culture, even if he’s been broken by that world, too-- John Walker.) It’s not even really clear if Sam is out and, if he is, to whom. He seems to be the kind of person to want to be himself as much as possible and Sarah likely knows because they are close but I’m not so sure that a lot of Sam’s military buddies actually did. He really strikes me as the guy who gets along with everybody and whom everybody loves-- but whom few people actually *know* because he keeps himself (all of himself, not just his sexuality) private from others...

...which is also a hell of a lot like one Bucky Barnes. 

Guaranteed they became such fast friends not just from being sort of left with one another in the aftermath of Steve and their attraction but because Sam was amazed to find that Bucky was actually pretty funny and Sam just kept talking to him because while he has-- or had, anyways, before he ran off with Steve-- a ton of people he’d consider friends, he doesn’t really have anyone he’d consider to be a close friend and hasn’t since Riley. Bucky, just still stunned to be free of mind control and that there was another human being talking to him instead of looking at him as a weapon to program to kill, was eager to listen to and absolutely thrilled when he could find something sarcastic to say to make Sam laugh that surprised laugh and light up. 

These two damaged couple of guys spent most of this show and the months before it just terrified by how much love they were feeling for one another and were very happy to let any conflict they could get in the way of it-- any excuse to claim they weren’t feeling totally seen and run for the hills back into their own trauma.

It’s not just Bucky doing this. He might have been the one not returning the texts at the start, the one who seemed to be withdrawing more, while Sam was texting him still to check in on him but how quickly that began to flip around by Episode 5. 

Suddenly, the brave one is Bucky. It was Sam for the first few episodes-- he was stil trying and so hard, despite not getting what he needed in return and Bucky still sending signals that he wanted him but was happy to still revel in being too damaged and scared to try harder. By Episode 5, though? Bucky’s not only learned to trust himself again, it is proven to be what he was afraid of: not being able to protect and love Sam the way he wanted to and that Sam would leave him. Triggered by the shield as a metaphor for not caring about Bucky, not having a reason to still pursue him, Bucky thought he had successfully pushed Sam away and that Sam would really stop texting because to not do so would be to admit to one another that they wanted to be around one another and this wasn’t just about Steve/Captain America. By Episode 5, Bucky shows up in Delacroix not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but with eyes only for Sam and is every one of Sam’s favorite Bucky Barnes fantasies come to life. 

It’s now Sam flipping out. Would you have expected the Sam of the first two episodes to be a babbling mess in the face of a flirty Bucky stretching and claiming it’s time for him to go get a hotel room? To try to be playing it cool but winding up asking him to stay forever and telling him he likes his tight t-shirts in the middle there? To get so nervous that he suddenly is babbling about six toes and flirting with Sarah, showing how jealous he was of Bucky just... smiling and being this guy Steve had said was under there but that Sam had only had small glimpses of so far? If he was gone for the broken Winter Soldier... he’s wrecked by a single smile from this Bucky. 

This is the same guy who spent the first few episodes confident to a point of near-cockiness, loving flirting with and teasing Bucky, the one that seemed more well-adjusted and in control of himself. Overall, he is but there’s something there when Bucky shows up and White Wolfs Sam into a sputtering mess who is sending him little glances, as if they’ve switched bodies from the first few episodes. It shows *just how much* Sam is comfortable with Bucky and how rare it is for him because he would react differently to Bucky’s more overt flirting of Episode 5 if how he is with Bucky was his default in life. Instead, we see that some of it is posturing-- it’s the Sam equivalent of lifting heavy things and using power tools. His is the humor (what’s a better aphrodisiac than making the Winter Soldier laugh or flirt back or blush?) and the bicker-caring. We even see where it comes from, in a way. Sam is a soldier-- he knows how to help other traumatized soldiers and when we saw him in his VA group session when we met him, we saw him using that kind of machismo world and its language to communicate with the soldiers in the group. The difference for him with them versus him with Bucky is that he’s also flirting with Bucky. The buddy cop thing is intentional-- it’s Sam’s strategy, it’s been Bucky’s choice to respond to it and they’re playacting it as how they talk because it’s been easier than admitting that they are completely gone on another and just want all the soft things. 

Up until recently anyway and now Sam’s reeling from a man he’s fallen in love with showing up and loving him back. Don’t think for a second that Bucky doesn’t know enough by now to know that it’d totally undo Sam but the surprise of it to the audience only really exists if you don’t think Sam and Bucky have anything in common besides their now-gone mutual friend. In reality, they’re endgame. 

[iatethepomegranate]

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 10

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, is showered in love and support, learns how to be a person again, and tries to protect those like him from going through what he did.

Content warnings: Panic attacks, vomiting, Caleb's backstory

Chapter summary: There's not a lot Caleb can do right now, but he can teach a hurting teenager a new spell and reunite him with his very much alive parents.

Chapter notes: I 100% believe that Astrid knows the Nein call Essek "Hot Boi." Chapter title is from Ghost by Jacob Lee.

****

Chapter 10: And I'm just a stranger who could be a friend

The first thing Caleb did was flip to the page in his spellbook where he had transcribed the Sending spell. It was far into the book. As he pulled out his copper wire, Felix made a sound of surprise.

“You learned this recently?” asked Felix.

“Ja, I travelled with a cleric friend for a long time who had the spell,” Caleb replied. “Not Caduceus; he was there too, though. Jester seemed to enjoy casting it at everyone, even mere acquaintances, so I never saw the need for it.”

“What made you learn it?”

“Jester insisted a few weeks ago, so I could talk to her while we were apart. I knew another wizard who could teach me, and we were spending a great deal of time alone together exploring Aeor, and exchanging theories.”

Felix, despite his distress, was absolutely smirking at Caleb and he was not about to deal with teasing from an actual child. “So… exchanging theories in Aeor? Is that what old people call it now?”

“Hush.” Caleb ran Felix through the basic somatic motions of the spell, before demonstrating it himself. “Hallo, Caduceus. I am teaching Felix the Sending spell. It will take a few hours. Let me know if anything happens.”

“Hey, Caleb. Beau has the monks looking for Nico. They’re playing nice with the Volstrucker, apparently. Don’t miss dinner.”

“Right, so you can have a single two-way exchange out of the one casting,” said Felix. “What’s the word limit again?”

“Twenty-five words. Now, this is a third-level spell. It will take some effort for you at the moment.”

“I’ve been to school, Bren. I know what spell levels are.”

“Call me Caleb. Or Professor Widogast, if you prefer. I do teach here now.”

“Fuck off.”

“Caleb’s fine.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Professor.”

This was better. Caleb could work with impetuous children. Most children he knew were like that. Caleb could tune his behaviour to whatever Felix seemed to find most calming. Or at least distracting.

Felix had great attention to detail, methodically copying out Caleb’s transcription of the spell and yet still finding excuses to make fun of Caleb along the way. It was comfortable, more than Caleb had expected. Felix only knew him by reputation, and one put forward by Trent, no less.

Maybe it was the shared trauma. Maybe it was the fact Caleb was teaching him something. Or because Caleb, despite being a professor here, wasn’t trying to inhabit a position of authority over him in the way Trent had.

Snacks were delivered to the room about halfway through the process. Felix paid it little mind, and that was painfully familiar.

“Felix.” Caleb could not believe he was enforcing a break. That he had become the kind of person who would pull a focused wizard away from study for mere human needs such as food. But he was responsible for Felix, at least for now, and that was a frightening pressure.

“Busy.”

Caleb closed his own spellbook, taking away Felix’s source for transcription. In its place, he put a bowl of fruit. “Eat.”

Felix paused, his pen hovering over the page, frowning. Then he slowly set it down and sullenly grabbed a plum. Caleb sat back against the wall, nibbling on a handful of grapes.

“Don’t forget to stretch before we get back to it.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Why are you like this?”

“Listen, I’ve had many people do this for me in the last year alone. So I’m paying it forward, and you are going to accept that.” Caleb tried to throw a grape into his mouth, and missed. He grabbed it off the floor and popped it into his mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. “It’s good for you.” If any of the Nein had heard him say that, they probably would have fainted from shock. It was easier to give this advice than to follow it himself.

“I can see why Trent fucking hates you.”

Caleb snorted. “Oh, this does not scratch the surface of Trent’s problems with me.” He threw another grape, catching it in his mouth this time. “Did anyone tell you what my friends and I did to him?”

“No.”

“Well, he tried to ambush us at Caduceus’s family home. One of my friends may have ‘acquired’ evidence of his experiments from Vergesson, and he was upset that I refused to entertain his ego while busy with bigger problems. By the time we were done with him, Astrid and Wulf were on our side, my friends had permanently glued a silencing collar around his neck, and used the leftover glue to stick his hands together. And that glue was in the shape of a dick.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ask Astrid. She activated the collar. Or Beauregard. She put the thing on him.”

Felix had that look of a teenage boy who was trying not to look impressed, hiding it behind a veneer of sarcasm. “Okay. I will.”

They finished their break, stretched, and got back to it. Felix was clever, eager to learn. It brought back memories for Caleb. Good memories, as tainted as they now were. And as much as he was worried for Nico and grieved for what had happened, he was also indescribably relieved they had been able to stop Felix. If he could help Felix reclaim even the smallest amount of good from his stolen childhood, he would take that as a victory.

Astrid looked in on them as Felix practiced the somatic motions around his copper wire, his muscle memory already secure. With a few minor corrections, he would be ready to cast.

“Almost finished?” she asked.

“Almost,” said Caleb. “Felix, that was very good. Just watch that you fully complete the motion right at the end, and hold it until you finish speaking your message. With time, you can find your own method.”

“You learned this method from your special Aeor friend?”

Caleb sighed. “No, these somatic components are developed from watching several casters perform the spell. My colleague provided the basic framework to learn the spell, but his somatic components are more intricate than my own.”

“So he’s your fancy special Aeor friend.”

Astrid chuckled. “It’s not the silliest nickname he’s had. Now, focus. The Martinet is sticking his nose in our business and we need to get you out of here.”

Felix wordlessly practiced the gesture again, meticulously correcting his errors. He ran through the motion a few more times, becoming more confident each time.

“I think you are ready,” said Caleb. “Remember: twenty-five words. Consider them in advance. It may be worth telling Nico he can reply to you.”

Felix nodded and closed his eyes, counting on his fingers under his breath. And then he cast. “Hey, Nico. It’s Felix. I heard what happened. I’m okay. They stopped me. I hope you’re okay. You can reply to this message.” The barest pause. “Love you.” Felix held his breath, listening out for a reply.

Caleb let him have ten seconds, before breaking the news. “Felix. If he has not replied yet--”

“I know,” Felix muttered. He grabbed his spellbook, hugging it to his chest as he deflated, and Caleb’s heart broke. “Just… get me out of here.”

****

Astrid’s teleport brought the three of them back to Blumenthal. The path was muddy from yesterday’s storm. Felix gripped his spellbook tighter, raking his eyes over the buildings around them. The way he held himself, shoulders hunched, inches from bolting, reminded Caleb far too much of himself mere months ago.

“Felix,” he said. “We need to speak to your mother and father, but we will not put you in a situation you do not think you can handle.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” And wasn’t that just painfully familiar. They had barely made it a few steps before he froze, closing his eyes against the vision of home.

Astrid looked to Caleb, silently begging for him to do something.

“Felix,” said Caleb, completely panicking on the inside, “we will not force you to do anything you don’t want to. Okay? Let’s walk for a bit. Take deep breaths. If we reach your house and you don’t want to go inside, I will stay with you and Astrid will talk to your parents. Is that all right?”

Felix nodded, and he took a step. Then another step. And another. They walked together down familiar but unfamiliar streets. They were in a different part of Blumenthal than they had been yesterday. Caleb blocked out most of it, concentrating on getting Felix through the next few minutes. His own shit did not matter right now.

Felix’s body language remained tense. His head stayed down, barely keeping an eye on where he was going. His fingers flexed around his spellbook. And Caleb was planning. A hundred different options.

Caleb refused to force this boy to face his parents before he was ready. If the time came, and he couldn’t do it, he would need somewhere else to go. Somewhere away from here. If Astrid allowed it, there were a few options. Veth in Nicodranas would take Felix if Caleb asked, but he wasn’t sure if Felix would feel comfortable being around a family like that, especially with a small child. Or Felix could stay at the Lavish Chateau, but Marion was a busy woman who had been through enough on Caleb’s account. There was the Gentleman’s hideout, but Caleb wouldn’t want to leave him alone there. He could take Felix to the Blooming Grove, where the Clays would willingly care for him, but taking a boy who almost killed his parents to a graveyard was possibly not the best option.

There was Reani, wherever she was, but he wasn’t so sure that Felix could handle her on his own, or that her rigid morality had shifted enough to take him in without killing him if she found out even a fraction of the shit he did while under Trent’s power. Taking Felix to Nila and her young family, who Caleb believed had returned to her clan, would bring up many of the similar issues as taking him to Veth. And the Guiatao clan had suffered greatly at the hands of the Iron Shepherds, including many deaths, so Caleb wasn’t sure that would be a good place for him to cope with nearly killing his own parents.

And Caleb was not putting Felix on a pirate ship, so that ruled out Fjord, Jester and Kingsley.

They could always bring Felix back to Rexxentrum and he could either stay on Astrid’s estate (possibly too traumatic) or with Caleb and the lesbians, but Ludinus was poking around and that could get messy. Not to mention the whole “harbouring a Drow fugitive” thing.

Caleb circled back to Veth. If Felix could handle it, he would feel most comfortable taking the boy to her if he wasn’t able to go home. Caleb hadn’t told her what happened yet; he was not looking forward to that conversation. Even if it would help him in the end.

Of course, this all depended on Felix. If he agreed to go home, this would be irrelevant. But Caleb felt better having come up with a plan.

They reached a quiet street. Felix headed to the house at the far end, partially concealed by a granary. Caleb thought, with faint nausea, that even the physical isolation of their parents’ homes could have been a factor for Trent.

Felix made it all the way to the small vegetable garden out the front of the house, but faltered between the carrots. He stared up at the modest house. A single-storey affair, small even for a family of three. The front door was painted cherry red. The boy’s lips parted; no sound came out. His eyes traced the features of the house - the red door, the two small windows, the thatched roof in need of maintenance.

A woman’s face appeared at the window. And the door flew open.

“Felix!” The woman ran out of the house, and Caleb was just barely able to take in her simple dress and heavy coat, blonde hair gathered in a loose bun. But as she got close, Felix stepped back, wide eyes fixed on her face, as she spoke in rapid Zemnian. “No one has heard from you in weeks. Where have you been? Are you okay?”

“I can’t do this.” And he was backing away. “I can’t.” He tore his eyes from her, and ran.

“Go after him,” Astrid told Caleb. He wasted no time chasing after the boy. Caleb had run from a great many things in the past few years, but he was not the fastest man alive. But he was fast enough.

Felix barely made it around the granary before he collapsed into the grass. Gasping for breath.

Caleb knelt beside him. “Felix, listen to me. You’re okay. Slow down, breathe. Let the air fill your lungs. Feel the grass beneath your hands.”

Felix dug his fingers into the dirt, gulping in air. He was listening, at least. Being on the other side of this was not especially familiar to Caleb, but he had coached Essek once or twice. He could do this. They could do this.

Of course, Felix barely knew him, so it wasn’t like Caleb could just hug him. That would probably make things worse. So he would have to use his words.

“Felix, you got this. How does the grass feel?” Caleb gave Felix a moment to process, and then he supplied options, taking a pause between each. “Is it dry? Wet? What colour is it?”

Felix coughed a little, sucking in a shaky breath. “Wet. Green.” His hand slid across the grass. “Short. Muddy.”

“Good.”

Felix leaned away and vomited onto the grass. Then he staggered to his feet, grabbing Caleb’s shoulder for support. They moved a little further from the house, and Felix leaned against the granary, knocking the back of his head against the wood. And he laughed, that kind of unhinged, hysterical laugh that was not funny at all. Caleb knew it well.

And then he was in tears. Caleb reached for his shoulder, carefully, and Felix didn’t shake him off.

“I was going to kill her,” Felix said quietly. “If you hadn’t… I almost murdered my parents. I love them. I love them… and it didn’t matter. I was going to… oh gods....”

“Felix,” Caleb said, and did a very poor job hiding the tremor in his voice. “I am so glad we found you.”

“What the fuck does it matter? I would’ve done it.”

“Felix, as somebody who did… it matters a great deal.”

Felix stared up at him, eyes wide and wild.

“I will not force you to go home if you’re not ready,” Caleb said, pulling his voice back under control. “All I will say is this: I would have given anything to see my mother and father again. I almost did. And I know it hurts to look at your mother, knowing that you were going to end her life because of a lie. But you didn’t. She is still here. So is your father. And you have time to heal, all three of you.”

Felix wiped his face on his sleeve, cleared his throat. “Okay. Danke.”

***

Astrid was seated at a small dining table with Felix’s mother and father. Nobody got up from the table when Caleb brought Felix in, though it took visible restraint from his parents. Felix took after his mother--blonde hair, blue eyes, soft features--but he was closer to his father’s build.

The father tore his eyes from Felix with visible effort, and when his gaze fell on Caleb, he froze. And Caleb recognised him, and his wife. Friedrich Schneider and Louise Fischer--probably Schneider now. They were a few years older than him, but he could recall playing together as children.

“I heard you were back,” said Friedrich. “You were helping Nico out yesterday, ja?”

“Ja, I was there,” Caleb said carefully. “As were Astrid and Wulf.”

Louise pulled out the chair next to her. “Felix, come here.”

Felix, still gripping his spellbook like a lifeline, shuffled over and fell into the seat. Caleb sat next to Astrid on the opposite side of the table to the family.

“I have given some details of Master Ikithon’s arrest,” Astrid told him. “We were just about to discuss options for support. If you would?”

“Ja, of course.” Caleb compartmentalised his old memories and focused on the task ahead of him. “We are organising a support group for Ikithon’s former students. We are still nailing down those details, but we will be sure to pass them on. I have also been appointed as a teacher at Soltryce Academy, and we are hoping to put the students back into school when they feel ready.”

Louise and Friedrich grasped at Felix, who curled in on himself but did not complain.

“We just got him home,” said Louise. “After everything Astrid has told us, why would we let him go back?”

“The students in Felix’s position are at a delicate stage of development,” Astrid said, with little inflection, and Caleb sensed she was compartmentalising as well. “They are quite skilled, but have lost the guidance they had. That is dangerous. Good or bad, Ikithon was…” She sighed, and the mask melted away a little. “He engineered this situation. We were dependent on him. Even those whose families still live. Bren, you have been out of his influence longer. Do you have thoughts?”

“Ja, I do.” Caleb had spent his fair share of time soul-searching in the past few weeks, as well as the past year as a whole. “Ikithon shaped each of his students in a very specific way: patriotic to a fault, willing to do anything to get the job done, and unfalteringly loyal to him. It is a gradual process. By the time you realize it is happening, you have already done terrible things at his command. For most, there was no way out. My situation is unique, because I was able to escape in a rather dramatic fashion, but it has taken years to shake off the influence he had on me. I was alone and homeless for most of that time, and let me tell you: almost every fragment of positive change in me happened in the past year, because I had a support network. I found people who cared about me, and they learned how to help me. It was a group effort. I am now in a position to offer that kind of support to others.”

“Say we let him go back,” said Friedrich. “Will he have to live in that place?”

“Not all the time,” said Astrid. “You are not far from Rexxentrum, so I do not see a problem if he wishes to come home regularly. Bren and I both live off-campus if he needs a break but cannot make it to Blumenthal.”

“You do not need to decide now,” said Caleb. “The seniors do not start for another few weeks.”

“We’ll think about it,” Friedrich said flatly. “What happened to Nico?”

“He did it,” Felix said quietly. “Had a breakdown. Ran the fuck away.”

“We have people searching for him,” said Astrid. “Bren taught Felix a spell to talk to him, if he likes.”

“He prefers Caleb,” Felix muttered.

“Danke, Felix.” Caleb had not expected Felix to speak up on his behalf, not when he had his own shit going on. “Astrid gets a pass and, well, your parents knew me when we were children. I go by Caleb Widogast these days, but I will answer to either name.”

“Why the change?” asked Friedrich, still in that flat tone of distrust.

“I went by many names after I escaped Master Ikithon,” said Caleb. “For safety. I gave that one to a woman who eventually became my best friend. Now, it’s my name. But, for you, I don’t mind.”

Both Friedrich and Louise did not look trusting. At all. A mere muscle twitch from openly glaring at Caleb and Astrid, really.

Louise sighed, and some of the hostility dropped. “Thank you for bringing Felix home.”

“We will check in regularly,” said Astrid.

“Felix can message either of us with the spell I taught him,” said Caleb. “If he so wishes.”

Things were too tense to continue much conversation. Caleb and Astrid said their goodbyes, and left. They did not speak, except for Astrid’s short incantation to teleport them back to Rexxentrum.

They landed on the outskirts of the Shimmer Ward. Astrid immediately combed her fingers through her hair, hands shaking.

“That was…” She groaned softly. “Thank you for coming. I will keep you updated on the search for Nicolaus.” She turned on her heel and marched deeper into the ward, pausing for a split second, before she continued onwards without looking back.

Caleb slowly worked his way back to and through the Tangles until he was home. He couldn’t fault Astrid for being distant right at the end. The last twenty-four hours had been intense for everyone involved.

It was close to dinnertime as he reached the house. He entered his side and shut the door, leaning against it as the strength left his body. He’d done it. Today had been two-thirds of a shitshow, and he had made it through.

Felix was home with his parents, and he had the means to contact Nico, and Caleb himself, if he wanted. That was a win.

Nico, however…

Caleb knew, intellectually, that it had been a freak occurrence. A series of imperfections had tangled together into a knot, and that knot had been Nico’s escape. Almost every wizard in that room had more than one try at countering Nico’s spell, but they had not been unable to unravel it. Nico, empowered by panic and grief, had thrown all he had into a powerful fireball, and had the adrenaline to power through what should have hurt him a great deal.

Caleb hoped he was okay. Physically, at least. Psychologically, Caleb knew he wasn’t.

He sat on the floor, resting his back against the door. And he tried something. Coil of wire in hand. “Hello, Nicolaus. This is Caleb Widogast. You may know me as Bren Ermendrud. I was with you today. I’m sorry we frightened you. Be safe.”

He didn’t expect a response, and he did not receive one. A small part of him feared Nico wasn’t responding because he was dead. It was all too likely. There was no way he hadn’t been injured in the blast. Once the adrenaline wore off, the pain could’ve taken over and left him vulnerable to any number of attackers.

Gods, if after all this, Nico had died on the side of a road…

Caleb was tired. But he forced his fingers to cooperate, and worked through another casting.

“Me again. I want you to know: Trent Ikithon is in prison for what he did to us. You’re welcome in my home, when ready.”

Again, no response.

“Caleb?” A form slid into view at the top of the stairs, blending into the dark, but Caleb knew Essek’s voice anywhere.

“Ja,” he said, with the remaining strength he had. “Felix is home. We have both tried to message Nico, with no response. I…” He didn’t want to speak it into existence, so he shifted the morbid statement on his tongue into something more positive. “I hope he’s alive.”

Essek floated down the stairs and sat beside him, squeezing into the remaining doorspace. “If he's anything like you, I would expect nothing less.”

“Danke.” Caleb dropped his head onto Essek’s shoulder, and let himself rest.

[quarantineddreamer]

@zutaraweek 2020 Day 4: Celestial

While I am here reblogging all the amazing content I’m seeing for Day 4 I wanted to repost an old one-shot of mine which contains plenty of Celestial imagery. It made my heart happy just to write it and I hope it makes yours happy to read it! 

Also posted on my AO3

Rating: G

Title: Of Lanterns and Turtle Ducks

Summary: Zuko is preparing to propose to Katara in the garden his mom cared for so lovingly, and where he and Katara first kissed 4 years ago... 

He carefully cupped his hand close to the waxed paper of the final lantern and released a small, gentle flame into its center. He stared at it a moment longer, feeling its soft warmth on his cheeks as he brought it closer for inspection. He shut his eyes and everything was orange and red. He began a silent prayer to the spirits, and in particular, to the soul he hoped still visited the pond he had staged so carefully on this night, the anniversary of the first night. A small smile tugged at his lips. I think you’d really, really like her Mom. I hope you’re here tonight..I think you are. He could feel her now, as he often did in this spot, an aura that wrapped itself around him like a blanket, whispering comfort, security, encouragement, love.

He opened his eyes and it was as though he were looking at the stars themselves. The lanterns danced in lazy circles as the light breeze propelled them across the still surface of the water. Their reflections rippled and sparkled. Fire and water united performed this most beautiful scene.

“Wow it looks amazing!” the voice of a friend called, and he turned to see two grinning faces peering out from behind a nearby tree. Suki and Sokka -their expressions made him blush.

“It really does!” another said in his ear, and Zuko jumped, very nearly tumbling into the pond as Aang landed quietly beside him with a whoosh, Toph climbing down from the monk’s shoulders, cackling at his response to her whisper.

The Avatar reached up to the taller man and slapped a hearty hand onto his back. “She’s going to love it!”

Zuko smiled at this, but didn’t reply, his stomach had begun to do flips again. “I hope so,” he mumbled. He looked again at his work. An hour or so of subtle firebending to illuminate the pond, the lotuses plucked and lining the small dock formed a pathway leading to the galaxy, and of course, the longest part had been carefully leading the turtle ducks to a temporary shelter for the night -filled with little treats and soft surfaces to snuggle in.

The group had all drawn towards him to stand beside him by the water. They created a small circle around him and their excitement was like static in the air. They all stared expectantly, even Toph’s sightless eyes landing on him.

“I wasn’t feeling so nervous until you all showed up,” Zuko said gruffly.

“Psh well you should be nervous, you’re going to have Sokka for a brother.” Toph elbowed him playfully.

“If she says yes…” Zuko corrected.

Sokka and Suki rolled their eyes in unison, a habit they had developed over the years. The former wrapped his arm around his wife. “She’s going to say yes. It’s a long time coming.”

Zuko supposed it was… Just two years before they had all been celebrating on a frigid night in the South Pole the union of the Kyoshi warrior and the young Water Tribe leader. He remembered how happy Katara had looked then, so giddy at the sight of her brother, all grown up, and twirling his bride about on the dance floor -stealing kisses.

Two years before that… four years to the day, was the night Zuko had nearly died, the night Katara had saved him.

Azula had been carried away to a secure location at Zuko’s command. He had struggled to rise, trying to find strength to command the Fire Nation soldiers that had come forward following his sister’s defeat, but Katara would have none of it. “Can you please sit still?! For spirits’ sake you just took a bolt of lightning to the chest.” He lay back down when he saw that she was close to tears again.

After she gave him as much healing as she could, and he swore, repeatedly that he really was alright to move, he went about his new duties, organizing troops, setting precedent, establishing himself as their new Fire Lord. Katara sent a message to the rest of their group via hawk, and they received word back within a few hours that Ozai was defeated and in custody, everyone was okay, they had won.

When that message had been received he and Katara had been standing in the palace. They looked at each other, almost in disbelief, and laughed, tension floating away in deep, hysterical chuckles. When that had passed, she had thrown her arms around him and buried her head into his shoulder. He had winced at the pain of her impact on his wound, but hadn’t made a sound, only encircled her in his arms and squeezed, breathed in the scent of her hair -a bit burnt from its near misses with blue fire.

When they separated, he had wordlessly led her away from everyone, through the maze of hallways that were such a part of his childhood, to the one place he knew they would not be bothered. His mother’s garden had looked neglected compared to how it was now, but still pretty, and quiet, peaceful . The sun was nearly rising, the night having flown from them in all the activity of post-war - post-war, could it be true? they both thought.

The sky was a pale blue, the faint light of dawn beginning to grace its depths, and he walked her to the shores of the pond (absent of turtle ducks in that moment) and together they sat, exhausted, and dipped bare feet in the cool liquid. She had her arms out behind her and was looking at the sky, shaking her head as though to ensure she wasn’t dreaming it all, and he thought how absolutely beautiful she was, how brave, how kind…

“Katara…” he reached for her hand and she turned her eyes upon him. Those eyes… And then, more unbelievable to him than the war finally ending, she had leaned towards him and pressed her lips to his, placed a gentle hand across his scar, and curled strong fingers in his hair.

“Zukooooo,” Aang laughed, snapping him back to the present with a wave of his hand across the Fire Lord’s eyes. “You there, buddy?”

Zuko cleared his throat, “Uh, yes, yes, hello, Zuko, here!” His cheeks turned a magnificent scarlet shade, visible even in the dim light.

They all took turns giving him a hug. “She’ll be here soon,” Sokka said, and gave his friend a knowing smile. “Don’t forget to breathe!” And with that they all departed.

Zuko was more concerned his heart would forget to beat, such was the eraticism of its rhythm. He paced the dock. Soon, Suki would be approaching Katara (who was probably in her study finishing up important diplomat work) and coming up with an excuse to guide her to the garden.

He looked out again upon the floating lanterns, then up at the moon and the true stars above him, studying them and their steadfastness for strength. A hand landed like a bird upon his shoulder, tugging him around.

“Zuko?” she asked in wonderment. Those eyes, those sapphire orbs... they could melt greater than any firebender he had ever met.

He took her hand and had her stand beside him, then took her other hand, and… Struggled to speak, a lump lodged in his throat.

The questioning on her face was replaced with affection for his awkwardness. She squeezed his palms gently, supportively, then looked out at his work. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, “what fire and water can do together…”

Shadows played on her face, she glowed a soft amber. Zuko felt a small tug at the bottom of his robes, and glanced down to see a stray turtle duck’s little eyes upon him. How did it?... he wondered, but saw that with it was its mother, and the mother…Was he crazy? Had the oil he used on the lanterns gone to his head? The mother duck seemed to bow its head, encouraging, a signal. Truly I am oxygen deprived...Breathe, breathe...

Katara was studying him now, unaware of the discrete audience behind him, but she was patient, knowing that Zuko would speak when he was ready, savoring the joy building in her chest as she began to suspect what this was all for.

Words were not yet ready to befriend him again. Instead he took one hand away from her own, and reached into his pocket feeling the cool touch of stone at his fingertips, the lick of the silk he had carefully selected.

Slowly he knelt, bowing his head, drawing a final breath, before looking back to her. “Katara, four years ago, the world changed... but I never would’ve known peace without you. You are a current that guides me. You remind me every day of the good that exists, of its power, and of its endurance. You gave me a second chance even when I wasn’t sure I deserved one…and you helped me heal wounds in myself I wasn’t sure I could even face. You have made me a better person, the person I was fighting to find again for most my life -the one I always wanted to be.”

"Zuko…” she laughed softly, but waited for him to continue. Her eyes glimmered with tears and lantern light, but there was a smile on her lips.

“Katara, I promise that every day I’m going to continue to prove to you that I can be worthy of the life you gave me. I will support you in your ambitions to rebuild a better world and assist in every way I can. I will comfort you no matter what may come our way. I will stand beside you, Katara,” his voice broke, but he kept going, almost there…  “Katara, I love you, now and always. Will you, uh… Will you marry me?” He held out a shaky hand. Balanced along his fingers was a silvery stone carved with a combined symbol of the sun and moon, clasped carefully to a line of inky silk. And despite Sokka’s advice, he was certain that he was holding his breath, his heart galloping in his chest.

She grabbed the necklace from him and dropped to her knees beside him, placing her elbows on his shoulders and her hands on both his flushed cheeks. “Yes, Fire Lord Zuko,” she laughed. “I will marry you. Of course, I will!”

His nerves evaporated and a smile, so big it hurt his cheeks, flashed onto his face. He kissed her deeply at first, drinking her in, then repeatedly, until she scrunched her nose and began to giggle at his teasing.

“YAY!” came a hoot from up on the roof. Katara and Zuko followed the sound to see the short figure of Aang standing atop the palace, arms triumphantly stretched to the night sky.

The couple laughed as one by one the sheepish faces of their friends appeared. Suki and Sokka both shrugged, and Toph clapped, none-too-guilty at being caught spying. One by one Aang bent them down from their hiding place. They all raced to Zuko and Katara, talking over each other in their “Congratulations” and “Finally!”s.

When finally a lapse in the chatter had come, Sokka frowned. “Wait...Did you say yes?” he asked his sister, pointing an accusing finger at her neck, which still had their mother’s jewelry upon it.

Katara gave the blue carving a fond squeeze one last time, then slowly unknotted it and moved it to her right wrist, her brother assisting her in securing it firmly in its new spot. Then she handed the bethorthal piece back to Zuko and turned her back to him, pulling her hair over her shoulder as she did so, leaving her neck exposed. He gave the exposed skin a small kiss before reaching round to tie the new pendant to her. When he was finished, she turned and gave him a goofy grin and another cheerful kiss. They parted, but he refused to let her stray too far, holding her back against him, arms draped over her shoulders, as she swayed happily and started talking wedding plans with their friends.

Eventually, even the exhilaration of the engagement was not enough to keep the gang awake. They all began to drift off to their beds. Katara and Zuko trailed behind everyone else, Zuko holding her hand and allowing his arm to stretch as he slowed to take one last look at the garden. The lanterns were still a tapestry of light against the black of the pond, a mirror to another world. Thank you, he thought quietly to the presence that he felt always guiding him whenever he stood in that magical place, and then together he and his bride-to-be, bumping playfully against each other, laughter echoing in the quiet of late-night, made their way to their bed.

The little turtle duck waddled back to the sanctuary the Fire Lord had built for them, and the mother… Emitting a faint blue light she shifted into the elegant form of a woman dressed in magnificent robes, gazing fondly at the retreating figures of her son and his love, before fading away, following the path the lanterns made to the spirit world...

[popculturebuffet]

OK K.O.! Let’s Be Heroes!: You’re Everybody’s Sidekick Review

OK KO was easily one of the best animated series of the 2010′s and i’ll stand by those words. The brainchild of Ian Jones Quartlery, voice of Wallow in Bravest Warriors and more importantly former head writer for Steven Universe, and current longtime romantic partner of that series creator Rebecca Sugar. That part isn’t AS important, but I still find it sweet.  Anyways OK KO was the story of K.O., a 6-11, not my own laziness for once but the show’s own way of doing age, year old boy who wants to be the best like no one ever was. In this case i’ts being a hero in a world that’s basically like if someone took the marvel universe and smashed a retro game collection and a pile of manga on top of it and then blended up the result and shot it full of gamma rays. Full of heroes of all kinds ranging from those fighitng crime to those who just want to loiter outside strip malls or cut hair.  To achieve this goal KO gets a job at Gar’s Bodega, the combination of your average bodega (for those unfamiliar with the term, i’ts a convience store) and a video game item shop, so the slurpee machine is right next to the power ups and ninja stars, and everything from skateboard polish to Spread Guns is avaliable. The bodega is owned by Mr.Gar, a mustachiosed muscle man whose basically a shoutier mexican version of MIke Haggar but with shades and a mustache. So a somehow better version of him, though with him being busy watching over the plaza itself, doing secret hero missions and what not the day to day operations are left to two teens: Rad, a muscle bound dude bro alien with telekenisis and a secret heart of gold and Enid, a cynical, slacker ninja whose also bilogically a witch because her parents are a vampire and a werewolf. So the series follows these three as they run the boedega, grow as people and fight the robots that frequently attack the plaza sent by the evil Lord Boxman who hates the place literally because it’s there and it’s existance annoys him. This is the canon explination and it is utterly hilarious.  The series was funny, had great character work, decent ongoing stories, great jokes and a fun tone that could go from meaningful and well thorught ot utterly batshit from episode to episode and was sadly canceled after 3 seasons because Cartoon Network is kinda stupid right now and dosen’t know how to handle a superhero show that still makes action a priority, but it did get a solid ending, a slew of great crossovers and a decent amount of representation under i’ts belt.  WHich brings us to today and the start of RED ACTION WEEK: A week dedicated to the series most prominent gay character and the bisexual ninja witch who loves her. I’m covering all 5 of Red’s more prominent apperances... I was just going to do the red/enid episodes but decided this was a better introduction to the series itself, as well as the fact it allows her character arc to better tie together by her final episode, which directly uses this one as a major plot point. I also threw Plaza Prom in there since, even if she’s only a supporting character, it’s still one of her few major apperances, is part of her final major episode, is one of my faviorites, and the climactic dance fights is one of the most intentionally homoerotic fight scenes i’ve seen in some time. With all that out of the way, let’s do this after the cut. 

We start at Gar’s Bodega, just after the opening two parter, with KO starting his first day of work, part of the reason this episode is a fairly smooth introduction into the show. Not even in the door he accidently shoryukyn’s joe cuppa, a stand up comedian with a cup of coffee in the big time for a head... I told you anything goes and I meants it.  After that accident, we find Enid at the counter, ignoring the customers before shooing them away and when KO asks for work, plays along with his enthusasim and tells him to clean the store.. which he does in minutes, before being told to sort the penny dish, and while he does the two discuss KO’s love of helping people: KO just genuinely thinks that’s part of his job, the right thing to do and feels good while Enid.. dosen’t feel it’s worth the effort and people are just generally ungreatful and not worth it.  I really like this scene for showing off their character dynamic beautifully: It starts showing that while at this stage Enid is largely an asshole, she does care about K.O. and while he’s cleaning, despite usually turning customers away, still let’s Ginger, an elderly patron and one of KO’s mom’s dojo customers, not only check out but pay in freaking pennies. It shows that try as she might, Enid really isn’t a cyncial or heartlesss as she claims. It’s also nice setup for later in the season as, and as i’m sure Ian Jones Quartlery and crew were preparing for, we later DO see why Enid hates people so much: her best friend, possibly more, Elodie, who i’ll certainly be covering eventually, betrayed her for a spot at Point Prep, basically UHA or Xavier’s for this world and claimed their friendship was just a ploy (It wasn’t, but again, story for another time), while her one date with Rad went terribly due to him acting like a huge jackass at the advice of his even bigger jackasses of friends. It’s easy to see why she stopped carring: When she opened up in the past it only lead to her being hurt and alone. K.O.... is the opposite. He genuinely belivies in everyone and tries to help them because, as said above, it’s just what he does and what he belivies a hero should be... he hasn’t been hurt or influenced by assholes like his friends, and thus is able to get them to open up. It’s a wonderful dynamic and I love it.  And naturally, KO is determined to help Enid see the light, with Enid responding with the wonderful line “You’ll never melt my icy heart”... give him a few more episodes Enid, give him a few more episodes.  So K.O. Decides to set out helping people, shouting about it to enid back at the store as he does because he’s 6-11 and kids in that age range are many things, but subtle is not one of them. He starts with Geoff and Nick Army, a monk and gay duke nukem reflectivity who despite having polar oppositie personalities, are both a couple, as confirmed by the creative team and then the finale, and a crime fighting duo who are having a dispute over opening a pickle jar with the good old ultra violence or non violence, which KO solves by letting both do it once, which results in a pickle jar explosion, both men in their underwear and everyone happy, especially the shippers.  KO continues his quest, going to Logical Cuts where we meet Mr.Logic, a robot who has a rather moving and well done backstory we’ll certainly get to, and is voice by James Urabanik, aka the voice of Rusty Venture on the venture bros, to my utter delight. And yes i’ll be covering the venture bros eventually, and might be this month. His customer, another one of KO’s mom’s regulars, is upset because her haircut isn’t right while Mr.Logic is upset, well as upset as a monotone robot can convey, that his usually 100% mathmatically perfect haircuts are off. KO pitches in and the new result is perfect, with both being greatful. 

KO’s next stop on his good will help people crying for help tour, after the above bit of wonderful art shift as that version of ko moveds like a south park character for some reason. Anyways, it turns out best friends, co workers and the dante and randal of this show, i.e.two best friends working a dead end job who despite arguing a lot need each other, A Real Magical Skeleton, self explaintory and Greg, a bear, are having an argument because RMS is trying to do their job and frame a baseball for a guy while Greg is being a dickhead and playing the drums constantly. As you can probably wager, I do not like Greg, probably more than rusty, partly because a future episode has him making KO doubt his macaroni art gift for his mom so he can eat it, yes really,and partly because he’s less intresting than his buddy and yet the two are shipped frequently despite my honest assumption they’d kill each other.. much like if dante and randall finally banged. However if you do ship them, I have no hostility with you. Unlike say loudcest or shipping sam with lincoln over at the loud hosue, there's nothing wrong with RMS X Brandon, it’s just not for me.  Anywho KO solves it in the hilarious and awesome manner of just putting Brandon inside one of those baseball cube things... it’s a shame he apparently gave him air holes but whatever. Proud of himself, K.O. plans to head back when he runs into the Ally Teens: Red Action, rude teen warrior from the future who just had a bad haircut, Drupe, a sentient strawberry because of course, and Greg, Drupe’s nonbinary best friend and combination of one of the bone cousins and Woodstock. K.O. offers to help and , with the trio being huge steaming bowls of elephant piss at this point, they instead trick him into waiting in a lava flow and then have drupe whip him every time the lava causes him to cartoonishily jump in the air.  Yeah despite both Red Action and Drupe going on to having supporting roles, like our good pal tom, who I will get back to this month, there isn’t nearly as much wiggle room in their first apperance. With Tom Lucitor, he was a dick.. but you could make the case, even just off that ep that he genuinely dosen’t know HOW to be a good person or that what he’s doing is sketchy at best. Here, it’s fairly obvious the ally teens know setting a child on fire and using vine whip on him super effectively is wrong, that’s why their doing it. Red, being that special brand of asshole, posts it on social media. I mean posting a video of yourself hurting a child, that’s Tucker Carlson level’s of dickery right there. Stone cold. Enid sees it and is understandably concerned, and goes over to see if KO’s allright when he returns and is forced to explain to him that no they weren’t laughing with him, they were laughing at him and were just being dicks. Also he wasn’t in lava, it was magma. It was above ground. 

K.O. glumly wonders why and Enid reitrates this kind of shit is why she dosen’t help people. K.O. also wonders how she saw it and we find out Enid is basically facebook stalking red action on her social media, as you do, and that Red’s been on a bit of a tear lately, smashing up shit and farting in Geoff’s face all because she got a bad haircut, with K.O. , likely going thorugh more of her posts, realizing theirs a pattern: When bad things happen to her she lashes out at others.. just like Enid. I do like the parallel there: Enid likely has a crush on her because the two are fairly similar.. but Enid runs cold and tens to be standoffish as a result of her past, while Red tens to take out her anger and frustration on everyone else and runs red hot. But they come together because opposities attract... it’s what noble laurite MC Scat Kat taaught us after all.  K.O. however, having Steven Universe level’s of empahty and an equal sense of wanting to help, and just as few boundries as he had as a tween, decides that it’s clear the ally teens have underlying issues to adress and gets Enid help to look at their social media. Returning to the ally,and seemingly unphased by earlier, K.O. sets out helping them, starting by helping red get her haircut fixed by Mr. Logic. Red is adorably delighted. Moving on K.O. notes that Drupe basically just follows Red’s lead but has a fashion blog and clearly an identiy of her own and we soon learn she believes no one reads it. K.O. showed it to the not at all ambigiously gay duo and Geoff and Nick thank her> That’s two blushes and two wins in K.O.’s court.  Finishing up, K.O. realizes Gregg stays quiet because they have low self esteem and feel they have nothing to be proud of. K.O. however found lots to be proud of and framed Gregg’s valdectorian certificate for him, again with some help from earlier.  Instead of graditude red just calls him weird and leaves and KO slumps back depressed. I’ts a good lesson though: people DON’T change just because you did one weirdly kind thing for them. That takes time.. as we’ll see with Red and as we see with Drupe, who has less of an ons creen journey but is far nicer after her next apperance. While Enid is grossed out over having helped someone, Gregg comes in.. and after some great deranged animation thanks K.O. and Enid admits after some prodding that it does feel good to help, and K.O. is happy to have helped her int he process. The two playfully mess around as the episode ends. Final Thoughts: This was a really good one. Reaching back this far into the series, I didn’t think it’d would be nearly as good as it ended up: It serves both as a good proper introduction for a lot of the plaza regulars, a good setup for Enid’s character arc, and was also really funny with great animation. LIke Tom, I don’t think the creators knew exactly what they were going to do with the Alley Teens and thus take the two they end up focusing on in opposite directon: Red keeps her assholishness for her next apperance and grows from it, while Drupe’s drops off by the end of this season, likely due to her fashion blog taking off, but we’ll get into Red more in a review or so and Drupe more later this month.For now this episode was good and next up we have their next apperance in Plaza Prom. Until then, follow this blog for more reviews and nonsense, like and reblog it if you enjoyed this, hit me up with asks for review suggestions or comssions and until next time, later days!

[bloodyshadow1]

Real is Better than First: First Kiss

3rd day, Prompt First Kiss from the second day because I got my prompts messed up and yesterday’s worked better for moonlight which is today’s prompt.  Though I suppose Canon Bisexuals Vex and Percy make a cameo so it might count. regardless this is it for today. Personally, I believe that Jester is bi but that isn’t the prompt since its just a headcanon.  anyway, on to the story. If you enjoy the story please leave a review or a reblog because they help me and mean more to writers than you’ll ever know.

    “Hey Beau,” Jester said surprisingly meek for her normal self.  But it was late at night, and they were in a room in an inn and they should have been asleep already but there was something that kept running through Jester’s head that wouldn’t let her sleep.  “Are you awake?” She didn’t know why whenever she thought about kissing advice she thought about Beau. Actually, it was weird whenever she thought about kissing she thought about Beau, not just about advice.

    For a moment the dark room was quiet, for a moment Jester thought Beau was either asleep or was going to ignore her, but that didn’t happen.  “Yeah Jes,” Beau said the frustration was clear in her voice, but as always, she didn’t take it out on Jester, “I’m up.”

She sounded exhausted, they had been traveling for a week straight and this was the first night in a while that they got to sleep in.  Jester immediately felt guilty, “never mind. It’s stupid,” she said trying to pretend she wasn’t being bothered by intrusive thoughts.  

“Come on Jester,” Beau said sitting up.  Beau couldn’t see anything but Jester’s eyes in the dark, but Jester could see all of Beau and drank in the sight.  She looked agitated but not angry her vest was off leaving only her wrappings, and her hair was down, something only Jester got to see.  Normally the monk left her hair up when they traveled on the road because it was too much of a hassle to put it up every morning. Jester didn’t care, she liked how Beau looked either way, “I’m already up so you might as well tell me already, otherwise I’m not going to be getting any sleep either.”

“Like I said it’s stupid,” Jester said trying to disengage from the conversation.

“Maybe it is, but I still want to hear about it,” Beau said patiently, at least patiently for her.

“I was just wondering…, what was your first kiss like,” Jester asked softly.  She had spoken to Nott about this and while the goblin was really smart and knew things, Jester didn’t think her romantic advice would really help her in this situation.  She wasn’t even looking for advice really, just some clarification, something to compare her kiss with Fjord with so she could have some perspective.

“Any particular reason why you want to know,” Beau asked softly.  Jester never understood why the others thought Beau was some gruff abrasive bitch all the time, well she could definitely be that, but Beau was also so incredibly soft to her.  But Jester still didn’t feel like talking about her kiss in the hydra temple on Urukaxl, she still wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“You don’t have to tell me anything yet,” Beau told her sensing her distress.  She walked over to Jester’s bed and sat down to give Jester a hug, “not if you don’t want to.  We can just talk about me for a bit until you’re ready.” Jester nodded instead of saying anything, her head shaking Beau’s shoulder when she did.  “My first kiss, well it wasn’t very good I can tell you that. I think I was 12 or maybe 13, seemed like a lifetime ago. It was with this kid Brody Farris, he was a stable hand that worked at my family’s estate, his whole family worked for mine.”

“He,” Jester interrupted confused, “your first kiss was with a boy?”  She knew that Beau liked girls, like a lot and pretty much exclusively.  She couldn’t even imagine Beau kissing a boy and she thought about Beau and kissing a lot.

“Yeah,” Beau said surprised that Jester was surprised, “I mean I told you there weren’t many other kids that I knew growing up, I didn’t have any friends.  He was the closest to my age so when I was younger I used to follow him around whenever my parents were away, and I could sneak out of my room. He was older than me at 15; I used to think he was so cool and that he knew everything, I mean looking back he was an idiot but so was I for believing him.  Back then I might have even believed that he was good looking, how naïve I was. One day he said he wanted to show me something in the stables and I went with him thinking he was going to show me a frog he caught or something. But when we got there he pushed me against the wall and just kind of shoved his lips onto mine.”  

“He shoved you against the wall,” Jester said confused.  Beau was this awesome super cool monk woman who fought monsters 5 times her size with her fists and a stick, she couldn’t imagine someone pushing her against the wall.  That was silly, almost as silly as thinking about her kissing a boy. It was ridiculous to think about Beau being roughly pushed against the wall her beautiful blue eyes going wide.  Maybe she’d fight a bit until she whispered don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you and then rebellion would turn to acceptance, curiosity, maybe even slight submission when blue lips captured her own.  But definitely not with a boy, that would be crazy, Jester thought doing her best to push away thoughts of a Beau pinned between a strong woman and the walls of the inn.

“I was 12 at the time Jester,” Beau whined, but not in a spoiled way, just in the way she did when things annoyed her.  “I didn’t learn to fight and I didn’t get these,” she said making a muscle with her arms that Jester definitely wasn’t staring at, “until I was sent away and trained by monks. I was just a little kid who didn’t know anything about anything and there was this older boy who I thought was so cool kissing me, so I froze up.  It wasn’t a good kiss, he didn’t know what to do with his lips or his hands, he tried to slip tongue without reading the situation, and his breath was awful, like worse than Caleb did when we first met him.”

“That sounds pretty bad,” Jester had to admit.  It was hard to wrap the whole idea of Beau not being super strong and awesome and kissing a boy, like it didn’t feel real.

“Yeah it was, I kept trying to push him away, but he was a lot bigger than me and didn’t want to stop.  Eventually on of his hands touched my chest and I saw red and just slugged him. Even if I didn’t learn how to fight until I went to the Cobalt Soul, my father ‘trained’ me a bit so I did know how to throw a punch.  He got upset at that and said that I should have liked it and that girls were supposed to like kissing. But then I screamed at him to never do that again,” Beau said softly remembering back then, “and he stopped yelling at me once he got a good look at me.  To be fair, Brody did seem genuinely sorry after that and promised he wouldn’t, but I still didn’t ever hang around him again. He stopped being someone I thought I could see as a friend and someone else in the house that didn’t care what I wanted.”

“That’s horrible Beau,” Jester said not really feeling like horrible covered it.  Her kiss with Fjord was bad but at least he did it to save her life and Fjord was a good guy.  She was sure that he would ask next time they kissed, though she didn’t know why it felt like she would say no.  

“But that wasn’t even the worst part, ya know,” Beau said breaking Jester from her thoughts. “The worst part was how wrong it felt, in all the books and junk made it sound like kisses were wonderful that the made you feel like you weren’t alive until you’ve been kissed.  That you were just silly girl before and being kissed by a boy made you a woman. When Brody kissed me I just felt like it was gross and didn’t want to do it anymore. I ran up to my room and cried because the kiss just felt wrong and I felt like I was broken because I didn’t like it when he kissed me.”

“So, kissing a boy made you feel bad,” Jester asked, that wasn’t what she felt when she kissed Fjord, it didn’t feel good, but it didn’t make her feel bad either.  It just made her feel confused and underwhelmed. She did know what Beau was talking about with the stories, kissing was supposed to always be wonderful and magical, real kissing wasn’t like that, or at least it hadn’t been.

“It made me feel awful, like another thing about me was broken,” that made Jester raise an eyebrow, why would Beau ever think she was broken? “After that,” Beau said softly before Jester could question the first part, “I’d sneak out sometimes and hang out with other boys, sometimes I would kiss them, just to see if I was still broken and each time it proved I was until the idea of kissing someone just made me feel ill.”

“Well you obviously don’t mind kissing now,” Jester said, she remembered seeing Beau and Keg together and they were doing a lot more than kissing.  Jester thought about what they were doing quite a lot actually. When she did it made her feel dirty and a could sometimes make her feel upset when she did which was weird. She didn’t really feel anything whenever she saw her mother with a client.

“Well I realized a few years later that it wasn’t that I was broken, that it was kissing boys that was the problem for me,” Beau explained.

“So than what happened,” Jester asked getting into it, “what made you realize it was kissing boys that you didn’t like?”

“It was all sorts of things, there were little clues that would have been a red flag that I was a big old lesbian if I saw them today.  Like growing up I’d spend some time watching the servant girls in the house from time to time, not like a creep or anything, just extra lingering because I thought they looked pretty.  I’d pay more attention to the women who taught me than the men, though I still didn’t remember much. When I got a little older and worried about being broken there were times when I would specifically seek out a boy who had a girlfriend to kiss, because I was more interested in seeing her talk to me and look at me was more important to me than kissing her boyfriend, even if she was only getting angry at me.  Which might explain somethings now that I think about it,” Beau said contemplatively.

“But what really opened my eyes was when I was 16, there was this ball at the estate of one of my father’s ‘friends,’” Beau said friend as if her father didn’t know the meaning of the word.  “There was some super famous rich couple from Tal’Dorei who were in Empire traveling to Deastok for some reason. I don’t know, all I remember is that they were rich and famous enough for the whole town to act as if it was a holiday because they graced our small town.  Even my father who hated Tal’doreians told me to be on my best behavior or he would lock me in the basement for a week. So there I was a young girl of 16, surrounded by a bunch of people who hated each other trying to pretend that they were best friends so the guests wouldn’t look down on them, forced to wear a dress that didn’t fit me right.  You can probably tell that I hated every moment of it.”

“I’m sure you looked wonderful Beau,” Jester said giggling at the thought of Beau in dress.  It wasn’t so ha ha funny that the Traveler was into, but more like an I want to see that sort of funny.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Beau said slightly grumpy, but she always sounded a little grumpy.  “Anyway, so the party had started, rich people were trying to pretend they could stand each other and failing at it, when the guests of honor arrived.  The hall doors opened, and they stepped out into the ballroom, the husband and wife from Tal’Dorei, the man was handsome, like Fjord handsome and it’s me so I’m pretty sure you’d flip if you saw him.  Human, short white hair, glasses that looked like he was a tinker instead of a lord. He was wearing a nice neat blue suit with gold trimming with a sword on his belt and a barely concealed look of distain that might have matched my own.  He seemed really cool, like obviously I wouldn’t go for him, but someone who likes guys probably would.”

“He sounds okay, but probably not my type,” Jester said skeptical he sounded okay, but she couldn’t imagine ever falling for a guy like that despite how great Beau made him sound.  “What was the wife like though.”

Beau’s face broke out into a legitimate smile, a rare sight to behold, “sweet Iounn Jester she was beautiful.  I mean it might be because I was sixteen when I saw her but she is like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, no offense to your mom or anything.”  Jester didn’t take offense at her mother’s honor, she doubted that this Tal’Doreian woman could even hold a candle to the Ruby of the Sea, it must have only been 16-year-old Beau’s immature thoughts.  Still, it felt weird to see Beau get this worked up over a woman that wasn’t Yasha, Jester wasn’t sure if she liked it. “Just seeing her walk in through those doors was enough to cause me to have a gay awakening, or at least a gay smack in the face to make me realize how gay I already was though I wouldn’t really understand it until later that night.  I just knew she was beautiful and I could stare at her all night and be happy for a week. She was an elf, or maybe a half-elf, she had these big grey eyes that radiated intelligence and cunning. She had long black hair that was tied into a braided ponytail that looked like it would be as soft as silk if you touched it. Just something about her just radiated strength, power, and charm, like even though she was in a room surrounded by strangers that wanted to wine and dine her, she was the one in charge.  And the dress she was wearing, I mean she had elven blood so she had a slight build, but what a body and the way her dress clung to-,” Beau started to go on, but Jester interrupted her.

“Yes, she sounds lovely Beau,” Jester interrupted feeling sort of pouty for some reason, “but surely you didn’t realize that you were a lesbian from just staring at this woman…, did you?”  She couldn’t have been that pretty, I mean there was pretty but no one is that pretty.

“Well I mean maybe if I got to stare at her all night like I planned to but that didn’t happen,” Beau said continuing the story, it didn’t seem like she realized why Jester had interrupted her before.  “It was a rich people party, which meant that everything was meant to be used as a weapon or to gain an advantage against the other families. My father ordered me to dance with our guests and make them learn about the honor of the Lionnet Family.  I don’t know how he expected me, a 16 year old to do that by dancing with people, but back then I was too scared of my dad to disobey him openly.”

“So, I stood in line with the other women waiting to dance with Lord Perry or something, I don’t actually remember what their names were now that I think about it,” Beau half lied to make herself look better.  It might be true that she didn’t remember the husband’s name that much, she met a dozen powerful people in her teens, she had the name Lady Vex’ahlia, Baroness of Whitestone carved into her mind from the moment she saw the beautiful woman.  “There were dozens of girls my age and even some my mom’s waiting their turn to dance with the handsome stranger while the men did the same with his wife. I will admit that when it got to be my turn, Lord Paulson seemed like a cool dude, I think he saw how uncomfortable I was and made some jokes about the stuffiness of the room and actually made me laugh.  He was a good dancer if I recall and actually lead like he was supposed to do instead of just moving me how he wanted me to. Anyway, after three minutes or so was it and I walked away from my most pleasant dance with a man I’ve ever had even though I knew I failed the mission my father had sent me there for so I kind of disappeared for an hour or so to become a wallflower.”

“I was feeling down that my father would yell at me for not seducing Lord Peril into love the Lionnet Family and just watching Lady -,” Beau started to say before she remembered she told Jester that she didn’t remember her name.  “Lady Vickie, throughout the night being constantly harassed by men asking her to dance. Once the initial lines died down it was something of a free-for-all and of course every man in the hall wanted another dance with the Tal’Dorian goddess.  I saw two lords almost ready to duel over who got to dance with another man’s wife who was uninterested in either of them while others were getting ready to brawl over that honor. My own father was among them, but I don’t think anyone cared, my mom was on the other side trying to get Lord Penski to dance with her a third time.  I don’t know why, maybe it was my finding a loop hole in my father’s orders to dance with the foreign guests, maybe it was the 2 bottles of booze I managed to squirrel away from the adult tables, maybe it was me part of me already knew I was a lesbian while the rest of me caught up and got tired of waiting, but I walked over to the Lady and asked her for a dance.”

“It was stupid, looking back on it, it could have backfired spectacular and made my family look like a fool if Lady Vexy, wasn’t as wonderful on the inside as she was on the outside and turned me down harshly.  But luckily she was beautiful inside too and accepted my request of a dance with a smile. I sort of blacked out during it, I mean I remember every part of it vividly but when it actually happened my brain shut off.  She lead, one of her hands in mine and her other on the small of my back and pulled me closer to her and I think that’s when my brain shut down. It was like dancing with air Jester,” Beau said dramatically, “I’ve never met someone as graceful as her, I can’t even remember our feet hitting the ground.  She talked to me during our dance, made me feel comfortable, made me feel safe even when she dipped or twirled me, it was just amazing.”

“That sounds…, really cool,” Jester admitted. It did sound amazing the way Beau described that night, she knows that Beau is well read and smarter than she pretended to be, but it was like Beau was possessed by the ghost of a poet.  

“When our dance was over she gave me a kiss on the cheek and thanked me for the dance,” Beau continued, “and I might have well been dancing with the fey queen for what that kiss did to me.  Every lousy kiss I ever had with a boy that made me feel nothing at best was blown out of the water by that little peck on the cheek.”

“That sounds really…, great,” Jester said feeling odd. She was glad her friend trusted her with this, but it didn’t make her feel any better about her first kiss with Fjord and how she didn’t feel anything from it.

“I mean it was, kind of an eye opener that helped me realize who I am,” Beau said.  “The best thing, other than the dance, the kiss and the enlightenment of course, was that my dad didn’t even yell at me during the carriage ride back, he actually was proud of me.  He said that me getting to dance with Lady Vex while all the men were about to come to blows over the opportunity was a stroke of genius.” Of course he neglected to mention that he was one of the men and the next day he was back to treating her like crap but it had been the nicest he had been to his daughter in years so Beau was going to take it.

“Are you ready to tell me the reason you’ve decided to ask me all these questions now,” Beau asked.  Like Jester said she was smarter than she pretended to be.

“It’s just,” Jester started letting out a sigh, “when we were in the temple with the snake people and were underwater, Fjord kind of kissed me.  Like it wasn’t a kiss kiss, he put his lips on mine so I could breathe, but it’s sort of the same thing. I just thought our first kiss would feel bigger, like you said the stories always make it out to be so amazing, but it didn’t.  I want to feel alive when I’m kissed, not just not dead,” Jester said sadly.

“I mean, I’m just going to put it out there,” Beau said scratching the back of her head, “why does that thing you did with Fjord have to be your first kiss?”

“What do you mean, he put his lips on mine, that’s a kiss, my first kiss what else would it be,” Jester asked confused.

“Well I mean he gave you air to breathe, that doesn’t make it a kiss, I mean you put your lips on Caleb’s when you thought, I mean when he was having a heart attack before we even went to the temple,” Beau argued.  “But that wasn’t a kiss, so what makes what Fjord did to you a kiss when with Caleb it wasn’t?”

“Well…,” Jester started to explain the difference but found she couldn’t.  She knew what she did with Caleb to help him from his heart attack wasn’t a kiss, but then if that wasn’t a kiss than…, maybe what Fjord did with her wasn’t a kiss either.  “I mean that’s true…, maybe I’ve never been kissed before,” she said in a quiet sad voice. It was an odd feeling to say that outloud. On one hand it means that her first kiss wasn’t empty like the one she shared with Fjord, on the other it meant that she still hadn’t had her first kiss.

“I mean you can still take it, but if you want to have a better first kiss, maybe you could just have to take the gamble that the future’s going to be better.  But I’m just saying that first kisses are kind of overrated, mine was terrible and with someone I wouldn’t ever be attracted to and I’ve had a lot better kisses since then,” Beau said trying to smooth things over.  “From what I’ve seen first kisses tend to be disappointment. I’m just saying, it’s okay if your first kiss was disappointing, your very loveable Jester, I’m sure you’ll have a million kisses that will make you feel as amazing as you want it to,” she said giving Jester a hug.

They sat there for a moment, just being comfortable holding each other, until Jester broke the silence.  “Hey Beau,” she started softly and scared, but worked up her courage, “you said that most first kisses are bad, even if I don’t count what Fjord did as my first kiss, so I’m probably going to have a bad first kiss no matter what.”

“I mean I don’t want to rain on your parade, but I think most people’s first kisses suck as a general rule,” Beau said trying to be nice, at least as nice as she could be.  

“Well then…, maybe,” Jester said gathering her courage, “maybe I should get my first kiss out of the way if it’s going to be terrible anyway.”

Beau froze for a moment and Jester was worried that she said the wrong thing and lost a friend.  But that turned out to be a false alarm, “I mean if you think that’s best, I suppose it couldn’t hurt taking fate into your own hands.  I mean I’m sure you could find someone to kiss you Jester, you’re really loveable,” Beau said tripping over her words.

“So than,” Jester said clearing her throat and facing Beau, “maybe I should get it out of the way soon, maybe tonight if it’s possible?”  She over and over again in her head she hoped that Beau would say yes.

“I mean…, if you’re sure, I could help you out with that,” Beau said nervously. She had been here before, kissing girls who questioned their sexuality a dozen times over and been hurt each time.  But it was Jester, sweet, kind, beautiful Jester who never treated her like she was worthless or broken or something to to use and discard. “But only if you’re sure.”

instead of answering Jester got up from their hug, climbed into Beau’s lap and put her hands around her neck and went for it.  It wasn’t anything special, not really, just a quick kiss, more than a peck but less than making out. There wasn’t fireworks and she didn’t suddenly feel like breaking out into song, but she did feel warm and had tingles going through her body that she had never felt before.  But what's more is she felt Alive, like really alive instead of not dead. And she felt like kissing Beau some more, maybe lots more, definitely lots more.

“How was that,” Beau asked carefully and softly like she was unsure of anything, so different from her normal pretend to be confident self.  Jester had to say that vulnerability was an attractive look on the monk. Even with dark vision she couldn't make out the colors on Beau’s face, but Jester was sure she was blushing.

“It was terrible,” Jester managed to say with a giggle, but stopped when she saw Beau’s face drop, “no no I’m kidding, I’m trying to make a joke where I say we might need to practice,” Jester said in her Twiggy voice.

“Oh well,” Beau said surprised, “I mean we can just do that, if you want.”

Oh I want to,” Jester said placing a bunch of kisses on Beau’s face, most on her lips but all over, she couldn't stop herself she was giddy.

It continued like that until Beau with her monk like speed wrapped her arms around Jester and pulled the blue tiefling into a deep kiss.  It was the type of kiss that Jester had read about, not in her story books, but in something like Tusk Love. But now, Jester wasn’t sure if Oskar and Guinevere were actually any good at kissing, because they were shit compared to Beau.

After about a minute Beau stopped attacking her with her sultry lips and Jester was able to breathe again. She laid back on the bed panting, like she had been running for miles, kissing in real life was so much better. No wonder people paid her momma so much if sex was even better than kissing.  

“Are you okay Jester,” Beau looked over her worried.

“Oh yes, I am fine,” Jester managed to, “really really fine,” she got out as she recovered from that thing Beau did with her lips.

“Alright I think that’s enough kissing for tonight, it’s getting late,” Beau said helping her up before walking over to her own bed.  She laid down to go back to sleep.

“Hey Beau,” Jester said after a few minutes.

“Jester, you know I like you a lot right,” Beau said not getting up from her bed, “like more than anyone else in the group. And what just happened was amazing, but I really need to go to bed so if you don’t pipe down I’m gonna gag you.”

“I was just wondering…,” Jester said quietly in the dark.

“Alright,” Beau said, she didn’t get up but she turned over so that she could look at Jester, “out with it so I can get some sleep.”  Her own special way of saying she cared.

“Well.., you my girlfriend,” Jester asked hopefully.

Beau was quiet for a bit, “Jester I know you’re a bit giddy after being kissed, but maybe you shouldn’t rush into things right now.  Maybe sleep on it, if you still want me in the morning, well we can work something out, but don’t rush something like this okay,” it was unfortunate but Beau knew from experience that she was rarely wanted in the morning.   She didn’t want to ruin Jester’s experience though. She was sure that the cleric would be back to crushing on Fjord tomorrow and she could pretend it wouldn’t hurt when she did.

“Alright Beau,” Jester said knowing she’d want Beau no matter when and where, “we’ll see in the morning,” she said before laying down.  She fell asleep quickly now that she wasn’t worried about the if the kiss meant anything, it had saved her life, but it didn’t make her feel alive like Beau did.

A few hours later Beau woke up with the sun high in the sky and Jester’s arms wrapped around her.  There was a note on her that read, ‘the suns up which means it’s morning and I chose you.’

That made Beau smile, “Alright Jester,” Beau whispered giving her blue tiefling girlfriend a kiss on the forehead, “you made your choice, don’t regret it.”  And with that she turned around so she could hold Jester too, if they were girlfriends now she could.

Alright, third day done, Beaujester mood.  Originally I was reluctant to ship them as anything other than platonic because vexleth was my opt during campaign 1 and since Jester almost started with a crush on Fjord I wasn’t ready to be hurt again.  My main ship is still Beauyasha but these two disasters have been creeping into my heart against my will. I have nothing against Fjorester, it’s not my ship but it could still be cute, but I kind of ship Fjord and Caleb from the beginning so… just not my ship.  Also the Vex and Percy mentions were supposed to be a quick mention but kind of took on a mind of its own. Like I said vexleth was my opt, I know it’s ridiculous but I love the idea that Vex was Beau’s gay awakening. Also a lot of Jester’s thoughts are filtered through a woman who has a heterocentric worldview, I don't think Jester’s a lesbian, but I’m pretty sure she’s bi, at least she’s bi here.  It’s kind of like she knows people can be gay, her mother’s had female suitors before, but all her books always told stories of men and women falling in love so she never thought it was something that could happen to her until her eyes were kind of opened and then it’s just like how did I not realize it. So I think she’s kind of thirsty for sexy women, not in the same way Beau is because she doesn’t know that she’s part of the community, she just doesn’t realize it and thinks she just admires the aesthetics of women in a completely non-romantic or sexual way despite thinking it would be really cool to have a girlfriend if she swung that way.  

[okimargarvez]

THE LAST PIECE

Original title: The last piece.

Prompt: Penelope and Luke doing a puzzle.

Warning: none.

Genre: comedy, romantic, funny.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: part 45 in Garvez canon Life.

Legend: 💑😘😈.

Song mentioned: none.

Puzzle is one of the things I have in common with my boyfriend. I had to write this. I don’t agree with Penelope:  L'Année dernière à Marienbad it’s not the recognized masterpiece of Alain Resnais. I studied it, for History and Criticism of Cinema, I chosen it, because I was able to watch it in streaming. Maybe Resnais masterpiece it’s Hiroshima mon amour. But his cinema it’s very harder to watch and study (as the whole nouvelle vague).

GARVEZ STORIES

THE LAST PIECE

Luke bends down to try to reach the opposite side of the table; Penelope does exactly the same thing and their arms intertwine. Soon thereafter the same happens to their eyes. They smile sweetly, even if they would been together for just few weeks. -We're almost done. Let's see who has the honor to take the last piece.- the man says, managing to set what he has in his hands and noting that now the holes to be filled are very few. She sets two of her own at the first try; at the same time he inserts the last among those he had set aside.

Only one remains, the last notorious piece of the puzzle. It rests quietly in the middle of the table, halfway. Again, their looks meet, but this time they are much tenser. This is not their first puzzle. They soon discovered that it was perhaps one of the few passions they shared before being romantically linked. Their conjunction of the stars.

Almost complete silence reigns if it were not for Roxy who snores on the couch, a few inches from them. They keep staring each other, as they were in a western movie. Neither one dares to lower his eyes towards the last piece.

In the end, Penelope is the first to speak. -Come on, take it.- she touches it, pushing it in his direction. The man watches her frowning, obviously suspicious. He tries to bring to mind the advice he has read in that book that Phil gave him last Christmas "How to keep a girl. Survival manual about female psychology”. As always very nice, his friend.

He doesn’t move a millimeter. -Are you sure?- he asks her, being careful to scrutinize every single detail of her (poor man) splendid face. -Is it not that you will be angry or is it a trap?- She holds his look and shakes her head only once. Her hair is gathered in a braid. In fact, it was for that reason that he bought this 3,000-piece puzzle, representing the Grand Canal of Venice, a city she always dreamed of visiting. She also told him that she should go with Kevin, it was planned on their trip to Italy, but in the end, that wasn’t what happened. Having to make up for the shortcomings of his predecessors doesn’t weigh at all for Luke.

After a pause that seems endless, she insists. -No, come on, take it.- she looks slightly to the left, a sign that a profiler should be able to recognize, and her look is of direct challenge, but the problem is that when it comes to Penelope his brain goes almost completely to the hell and everything he knows how to apply in the remaining cases, is absolutely useless with her.

And in fact, he falls for it, totally. -Ok.- he shrugs and stretches his arm to take it. But she prevents him by giving him a slight but still significant slap on the hand.

-What are you doing!- she also asks, in a shocked tone, disappointed. Luke gives himself the idiot. Why does it have to end this way every time? Will he ever be immune from her malia? He sighs, caressing the hurt one with the other hand.

-I'm putting the piece.- he simply explains. -You told me.- he accuses her more with the eyes than with the rest of the body. -I also asked you if you were sure and you said yes.- he adds. She nods, then shakes her head, then nods again, bursts into a short giggle that has the power to awaken the dog, but only for a few seconds.

-You know that I said it only to look polite.- she provides him with the solution of the arcane. -You still must answer "No, love, it’s your time”.- she instructs him for the following times, while aware that the situation will probably be repeated. -As when we eat pizza and there is only one slice in the carton.- she finally concludes her lesson.

-Women, damn it.- Luke exclaims. -You can drive even a Zen Buddhist monk with a passion for mime crazy.- her eyes are wide open.

-This was good, but not enough to win the last piece of the puzzle.- damn it. He snorts,  his back is not well in this position. Stay sitting on the ground, at their age, is not really the best.

-Ok, so how do we solve it?- he asks without too many words.

-We can play it.- she proposes, with that mischievous tone that he adores, because she knows what scenarios it opens to him. -Tell me why I should give you this honor.- she crosses her arms, aware, but not as much as he does, of the fact that her breasts rise and seem even bigger.

-Oh, I like this breakthrough.- he rubs his hands, trying to stay focused. -So, this week I mowed the lawn, even if I didn’t feel like it, I took Roxy and Sergio to the vet and I gave up the baseball game to let you watch that absurd and incomprehensible movie.- the first three things that came to his mind.

She opens her splendid little mouth. -What!- for a moment she seems unable to articulate a complete sentence. -How dare you, it's a nouvelle vague movie, ignorant!- she is so sexy when she uses the French accent. It is really absurd that the only language that she doesn’t want to come in her head is Spanish. -L'Année dernière à Marienbad it is absolutely the recognized masterpiece of Alain Resnais!- even the title is ridiculous.

He shows himself more disinterested than it is. -Whatever you want.

It has neither head nor tail.- he rolls his eyes theatrically. -Now it's your turn.- he smiles mischievously.

-Good.- she seems confident. -First of all I tried to cook that goop that your mother told me, following the recipe step by step.- but at that game they are both champions, on equal merit.

-But if the oven hasn’t exploded for a miracle and we had almost to call the firemen.- in fact he is not good at cooking, not even her. Yet, for now, they haven’t yet starved to death.

-It’s the gesture, the gesture, the effort, all that matters, Alvez!- how he can love her even when she calls him by last name? Is there a version of Penelope that doesn’t drive him crazy? -Learn it.- she says with an authoritative tone. -And then I washed your underwear with my poor hands. Only for this should they give me a medal of value and a certificate of extreme courage.- he decides not to answer. -We're even.- she decrees.

-As always, love.- he strokes her cheek. -I would suggest to do it together.- she nods and leans towards him, to kiss him. Soon the hands start to wander, but when he opens an eye, he realizes that...-Penelope! You, liar!- she has took advantage of his distraction to grab the last piece. They start to struggle, in no uncertain terms, until he gest the best, blocking both her arms and tickling her. When she gives up, he starts kissing her again and takes a moment to go to the last base. -Wow. Why when it starts like this is always so great?- after, he is the most exhausted between them.

Penelope, on the other hand, has a strange smile on her face. -You ask too many questions, beauty. And anyway, while you were taking a breath, I finished the puzzle.- he notices that she is right.

He raises his shoulders. -You know what? I don’t care.- he is ready for a second round. -I have already found my missing piece and have you seen? It fits me perfectly.-

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E23 (June 19, 2018)

Welcome to tonight’s Talks Machina. Today’s preshow: the weather throughout the Dwendalian Empire. I’m sure this isn’t foreboding at all. Tonight’s guests: Matt & Emmy-award-winning Sam Riegel. Sam has a prepared bit for the opening that he just found out he was supposed to prepare. He gets out, “How many... light bulbs...” before BWF has pity and throws us to the title screen.

Tonight’s announcements: New M9 shirt in the new CR store at shop.critrole.com. The show also now has their very own dedicated Critical Role Youtube & Twitch channels--however, don’t worry, as it’ll still be broadcast in all current locations as well. After Dark will continue to be available on After Dark only. There also will not be any Talks Machina or new Critical Role episode July 3 or July 5, as they’ll be making the move to a new studio during this week. (Marisha’s stepped down at G&S to make this move to full-time CR management as well.) There’s a summary post of these announcements with a FAQ on critrole.com, if you need more information.

Before we can get to CR Stats, Sam interrupts to ask Matt why they’ve never had an NPC with a French accent. Matt, answering in an excellent French accent, explains that they’ve not come across any regional areas that are analogous to France yet. He suggests they visit the Menagerie Coast.

CR Stats! The M9 have now officially rolled 99 natural ones. Nott’s in the lead with 22. Sam only has one d20 that he rolls, and he thinks Laura’s bad luck is rubbing off on him.

The M9 have now been traveling together for about a month. Matt, deadpan: “They’re such a tight-knit family.” He does like that everyone’s getting to see the ground-floor development and occasionally has to remind himself to set the scene because he gets sucked into the roleplay.

Kiri has imitated people 82 times--Sam loves Matt’s imitations.

The D&D Beyond theme song was a greater achievement than the Emmy (per Sam): “It was a thing that I just came up with...that became the anthem for a generation.” The Emmy is a bucket list, pinnacle professional achievement, but he loves that he got to write & make the theme song. (Also: two years on one cartoon vs. fifteen minutes on a song.)

Matt has a tumultuous history with the Streamys. He directed a web series ten years ago and was invited to contribute to a big montage...only to find out right before the show that it had been cut from the program altogether.

The battle with the Merrow played out fairly close to how Matt had envisioned it, although the players’ positioning led to some interesting situations. It was more challenging in certain moments without Nott, especially when Matt was trying to decide how certain events would play out. Sam sidebars to point out how much he loves it when a battle changes halfway through (either due to traps, additional enemies, or the map changing). Matt says there are many battles they’ve had in the past where certain traps were never triggered. However, you can’t do it too often or it becomes expected. (Matt does feel bad when he’s rolling well and the PCs are rolling badly.)

Nott’s water thing Sam invented during the game (because he thought it would be funny, natch), but he’s come up with a backstory since then that explains why she’s so afraid of water.        

Matt plays out combat as designed even when a PC suddenly decides to not participate--unless it’s a new group that doesn’t fully understand D&D combat yet, and it would impact their enjoyment of the game. He wants people to understand that there are consequences with character choices. 

Sam often finds it bothersome when they know they’ve missed something in game, especially when it’s an important story beat. It’s the worst when Matt gives them multiple chances to succeed, and they still end up failing all of them. Matt confesses sometimes he makes them roll checks on general knowledge they’d have known anyway just to make them feel a certain esoteric skill was useful for once. 

Nott feels terrible she sat out the Merrow fight only for Caleb to come close to death. Sam: “Nott feels awful about it. Sam Riegel feels great about it! I love situations where it doesn’t look like it’s going well.” Plus, the night before she also got Caleb in trouble with the bowl thing. BWF’s a little worried it’ll affect their relationship.

Matt claims that Kiri was not at all related to wanting to prove he could do Jester’s accent. He rolls for random encounters when they’re traveling, and Kiri was one he’d considered to demonstrate the presence of kenku, while also highlighting that non-Empire people are moving away from the conflict. He half-expected them to ignore her altogether. 

Matt reveals that Kiri has six (6) (SIX) hit points. “She’s practically a baby bird!” Sam has a retroactive panic attack that they’ve been bringing her to all these battles. Me too, bud. Sam accuses Matt of “not having brought anyone worthy of taking a baby bird off our hands.” Matt: “You haven’t even looked!” They wonder together about the possibility of a baby bird orphanage in Hupperdook.

GIF of the Week! @justjamesearle. It’s long and perfect and details the Fjord whack-a-mole death saga with the venom splashes. 

Nott’s opinion of Kiri hasn’t changed at all with the reveal that she heard/repeated her conversation with Caleb. Sam thinks Nott should have known better than to talk with a recording device in the room, especially since she only ever repeats it when it’s hilarious or well-timed. “It’s hard to live with a soundboard.”

Matt keeps a list of notes of what Kiri can say. It’s super fun, and he sometimes gets so caught up in conversations he forgets to write down things for her to repeat later.

Nott wished Kiri hadn’t repeated the facts from her backstory, but she’d never considered being aggressive towards “little RiRi” (oh God it’s too adorable). She still doesn’t like a lot of attention. Both BWF & Sam applaud Matt for giving them little prods to reveal backstory.

Dagon, Matt & Marisha’s bird, provides a lot of inspiration for Kiri. Matt talks about being a bird owner after growing up with cats and dogs, and reveals that wanting to utilize that knowledge was part of why he introduced kenku.

Nott finds Beau the exception to her general mistrust of the group, which is why she let her care for Caleb after the last fight. She feels Beau has been weirdly sensitive and protective even through her lens of abrasiveness, and she respects that she hasn’t spilled the beans about Caleb’s backstory.

Fanart of the Week! @obeymybrain, which is a great group portrait in four vertical-column stylings after the Haunted Mansion from Disneyland.

If the troll hadn’t been slowed by Caleb, Matt thinks the group would have permanently lost someone. Matt loves the new monsters that are punishing to melee characters. He thinks they did a good job damaging it at range at first, and Sam waxes poetic on all the options they didn’t pursue instead (like Saran-wrapping the door before it came running out). Oh, what could have been.

Sam’s love for Liam is stronger than Nott’s love for Caleb, because “...Liam kisses back.” They’ve known each other half their lives now.

If the M9 pursue dynamite as a common battle tactic, Matt may need to prepare for his builds to be destroyed more often. It’s still limited by the relatively new availability of blackpowder and has a high possibility of backfiring depending on their rolls.

Nott wishes she could tell everything to Caleb, but is limited by the realities of their show, since it’s hard to find a time that’s not full of dick or drug jokes. There’s been times they’ve been alone together but Caleb hasn’t asked any questions; Sam thinks “He needs to do some Marisha-style questioning. That is an inquisitive monk, and I love her for it.” Matt points out it’s a critical aspect of her character that she wants to know everything.

Matt played out the last Fjord moment in front of the whole group in part because it would have interrupted the flow to have everyone leave, and in part because he trusts his players not to metagame now that they’re all learning bits and pieces of each other. He liked the visceral smash-cut of the vision to the party watching Fjord jam this thing into his stomach.

Matt does have to juggle all the party’s backstories since it’s such a large group; some will be long-game just because of the natures of their stories. He likes to drop threads as they go, though, so everyone feels more connected to their world. Players feel like the stakes are higher when they can see their stories reflected and affecting the living and breathing world around them.

Nott wasn’t particularly bothered by Molly immediately forgiving the bandits right after they hurt her. “They’re just dumb. They’re just dumb and they need to go. They’re too dumb to hurt.”

Matt knew the outline of Hupperdook before the party ever heard of it. Now that they’ve expressed interest in it, he’s begun filling in the details since it looks likely that they’ll visit it soon. It helps that they’re limited to speed of foot & horse; when they can start bamfing everywhere in later game, it gets a lot harder. Matt’s advice in that situation is to give the town a unique social structure or aspect, to make a bold choice that will cause it to stand out in their mind. It helps if you can ask what the players are looking for, then “yes and” based on what they’re seeking (he builds an idea of two competing taverns poaching clients from each other off a spur-of-the-moment request from a player asking if there’s an inn nearby).

Sam does rehearse his more performative ads ahead of time. He usually writes them the day of over lunch, although lately he’s been trying to get them done on Mondays and Tuesdays so he’s not as stressed on Thursday.

There’s no specific inspirational character for the Gentleman. Matt wanted to create an outside-the-law businessman who wasn’t your typical ~thief-lord~ while still seeming unique against the world. He wanted him to be charismatic and domineering, welcoming until you crossed a personal or business line, in which case he’d immediately put you in your place. 

Nott still considers her old goblin tribe a threat to her & is reluctant to confront them. She does feel a little more prepared now that she has more allies, but is hesitant to meet old demons & old memories. Matt sidebars to point out that a lot of these character backstories could be self-driven, since there’s nothing keeping them from visiting Nott’s hometown now. They could pursue it at any time if they wanted.

The firearms in the world are a direct result from Percy & Ripley; she dealt them out in heavy trade areas like Marquet, which results in the technology being distributed in a way that now impacts the M9 in their world. They’re still limited by materials, though.

Matt loves the joy on Tal’s face every time they mention firearms are readily available in Wildemount.

Everyone’s distraught over Tal’s Vicious Mockery in the last episode. Bless his heart. Matt: “Sometimes you come out of the gate and realize you’ve come out without your pants on. You commit, and you walk away.”

Sam misses giving inspiration on a regular basis. He also has a lot of insecurities over his current inability to contribute to a battle with much more than crossbow bolts. BWF: “Just sent Nott to a bard college.” Matt: With a -3 charisma, I think you’re taking inspiration away from people.”

Favorite M9 voice to mimic as Kiri? Partially Jester, because it’s just funny, Nott is shrill and ridiculous, and has lately been enjoying mimicking Fjord for the few times he’s been echoed.

The Nott voice is not hard at all on Sam; it’s mostly falsetto, which BWF says he usually talks in off-camera all the time anyway.

After Dark: After This

In CriticalRoleLand, Dani would like to see Vex’s Flying Brooms. BWF suggests a waterslide that ends in Vex’s & Percy’s bathtub; Matt suggests it be a goldfish ride that goes over the side. He also likes a teleporting ride that goes into Umbrasyl’s belly, and Sam comes up with a dunk tank for heckling Tary.

Matt talks about that viral Youtube video with the weather forecaster naming the city that’s like 100 characters long. Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, that’s the one.

Nott’s Tinder profile? “Short, green, looking for mean. Buy me a drink and I’m yours.”

Matt wouldn’t be surprised if this campaign does eventually touch on family in the same way the first one did. However, Sam feels so far it’s much more about identity, and Matt tacks on regret & making amends. He also thinks trust & learning to accept help from others is still developing, since so many of these characters have been hurt in some way.

VM had a lot of very classical heroic archetypes; this campaign is full of many more human, subtly complicated characters. Matt loves the contrast.

The eyes. The EYES.

Sam agonizes that in his Friday retellings of the campaign’s story to his six-year-old son, it drives him crazy that he can’t answer his son’s questions as to why something happened. His son does ask “does Matt Mercer know?” and Sam is glad he can say yes.

Sam loves the idea of the world hinging on the bandit troupe they keep running into. I debated troop or troupe there, but given the hysterics they keep causing, I’m sticking with troupe.

If they met, Nott would steal every single thing from Taryon Darrington. Except that lame book, of course. “That’d be amazing. And! Possible! We’re on the continent, right?” Sam rubs his hands together gleefully...until Matt points out Taryon’s been relegated to NPC status & Matt would be the one controlling him now.

Matt usually prepares a guest for the show by meeting with them ahead of time. Depending on how much (or if ever) they’ve played before, he helps them build a character and teaches them the basics of the class. Mark, obviously, didn’t need that introduction, so instead they focused on loose backstory and finding ways to integrate that backstory into the existing world. When it’s time for them to actually play, they’ll discuss in advance a way to bring their paths across each other, such as Cali looking for a specific relic at the same time that the M9 were going to be investigating a safehouse full of stolen relics. As soon as they meet, it’s hands off. (It can be hard to get someone out of the group if they for sure can’t return the next week.)

MAJOR, MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE END OF CAMPAIGN ONE IN THE SECTION BELOW.

BWF jokes that last campaign Joe Manganiello just showed up and said, “Hey, so, I’m playing Arkhan,” and that was that. Actually...that’s pretty close to what really happened. Matt & Joe did meet for a long evening in Joe’s kitchen in advance to discuss backstory & motivations, after which he finally managed to convince Joe’s wife, Sofía Vergara, to play a small game with him, Joe, and Marisha. Sam laughs that at Matt & Marisha’s wedding, they had two sentences with Joe before the conversation immediately devolved into D&D and Joe’s wife rolled her eyes out of her head.

They did discuss that Joe wanted to steal the hand at the end of the last campaign. “You don’t have the Hand of Vecna, the Hand of Vecna has you.” They had a long conversation about Arkhan’s denouement after that episode.

END OF MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS.

And that’s all for the night! Have a lovely week, and is it Thursday yet?

[kuriquinn]

Sex Ed [5/5]

Blanket Fic Disclaimer

Prompt: Rereading chapter 19 of Unplanned, and I sorta want a story about the aftermath of Sarada accidentally crushing a partner during her first time because she didn't get Sakura's advice. Specifically, I want Sasuke's reaction. Him being confused and not knowing whether to be angrily protective or sympathetic. I think that has the potential to be hilarious.- Anon

Author’s Note: I had to change the injury a bit, and I didn’t get all of your prompt in this chapter, but if you’ve read the previous ones, parts of your request were in there too. There were a surprising amount of people who wanted to see Sarada’s sex mishaps, so I tried to get everyone’s request somewhere in the fic. I hope this (and the previous chapters) has been to your liking :)

Warning: In this universe, Sarada is bisexual, and her parents are very supportive of her, thank you very much.

First Chapter

“Are you going out?”

Sasuke pauses in the act of slipping into his shoes and glances up at Sakura, wandering down the hallway and buttoning her tunic the rest of the way up. “Yes. One of the officers at the police station says he found some of my family’s old files. He wanted to know if I wanted the hard copies.”

“Well that was nice of him. What are they, old case files?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, call me if you need anything,” she tells him, and as usual there’s the implicit reminder that if it’s too hard for him to do on his own, she’ll be there in an instant. He nods, grateful, but doesn’t take her up on it.

“Since Sarada’s apartment is along the way, would you take her that basket of vegetables in the kitchen?” Sakura asks as she shrugs into her coat. “It’s all fresh from the garden. And you know what those girls are like. Leave them alone long enough, and they’ll live off of cup ramen and poki. I’d take it myself, but I’m already late, thanks to a certain someone.”

“You weren’t complaining an hour ago,” he answers mildly, but heads to the kitchen anyhow.

“I wasn’t late an hour ago,” Sakura replies, straining up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, if there are no world-ending crises.”

“Hm.”

They leave the house together and part ways on the street, Sakura heading to the hospital and Sasuke to the police station.

It’s been quieter around the house since Sarada moved out, even if she was never a really loud child to begin with. Barring her rough teenage years and occasional temper, she was rather like Sasuke as a teenager, but a lot less prone to vengeance fuelled vendettas. Sasuke misses having her around, even though she lives within walking distance.

It’s not exactly common place for young people to move in with roommates in the village (at least it wasn’t when he was younger; most people lived at home with their parents until they got married), and as much as he disliked the notion when Sarada brought it up, he has to admit that her having her own place has made their relationship better.

Much as she is the light of his life, there are certain aspects of their life together he doesn’t miss.

Such as dealing with awkward situations or information that a father should not be privy to when it comes to his daughter. He doesn’t have to worry about her safety, because Chōchō and Wasabi are just as brash and protective of Sarada as he is. And she hasn’t had another boyfriend in a year, which is also a relief.

None of them are good enough for her anyway, and if she intends to be Hokage, she shouldn’t have more distractions than necessary. She’s already going to have to work harder than before because Naruto is still a bit ticked off about his son’s broken penis. He and Sasuke have come to literal blows about the whole matter, considering Boruto was just as involved in causing that injury as Sarada was.

Eventually the dobe will get his head out of his ass about the whole thing; maybe if he spent more time at home with his family his kid would have known how not to get injured during sex.

As for Sasuke, without Sarada living at home, he and Sakura can have sex again whenever they want instead of waiting for their daughter to be away on a mission or at a friend’s house. He’d be lying if he hasn’t been waiting twenty years for a return to that status quo at least.

Logically speaking, there’s no downside to the arrangement.

When he reaches the apartment, he dutifully knocks and waits for a response; as far as he knows, Sarada isn’t scheduled for any missions this week so she should be home. Which is why he frowns when he doesn’t get a response.

Glancing at the basket in his hands, he considers for a moment just leaving it outside the door, but discards it a moment later. Any co-tenant or stray animal can get to it here, and he doesn’t like the idea of Sarada living off ramen any more than her mother does.

Naruto has had way too much influence on his daughter.

I’ll go through the window and put it in the kitchen, he decides, knowing this course of action won’t take but a minute.

It seems the most simple idea, and it’s nothing to slip into the kitchen and place the basket on the table. He considers leaving a note for a moment, and then—

“Oh, yes! Right there!”

Sasuke feels a chill like ice creep down his spine at his daughter’s voice echoing from the living room.

No. No, for fucks sake, this cannot be happening. No. Not again.

In a panic, he seeks an easy exit, at the same time castigating himself for such an amateur mistake. This isn’t a covert mission to steal documents, it’s a visit to his daughter’s place of residence. He should have called ahead. And knocked. And announced his presence.

Possibly with a bullhorn.

He’s about to make his escape, when the relative silence is broken by a familiar crack, followed by a girl’s sharp yell of pain.

“Wasabi?” Sarada cries a moment later. “Wasabi, are you alright?!”

“My hips…they…ow!” the other girl gasps. “And I can’t…can’t feel my legs. Ah, stop moving!”

“I’ll fix it, just let me get out from under—”

“No—ow! Don’t move—”

“I can’t help you when I’m lying on my back, just let me—”

“DON’T MOVE, IT HURTS!”

There’s a sharp, panting gasp of someone trying to breath through the pain.

Broken pelvis, Sasuke decides, wincing out of empathy. He’s had that particular injury before, and from similar circumstances. Except, lucky for him, he was on the bottom and it was the work of a minute for Sakura to fix it.

Speaking of…

“If I don’t move, we’re both going to be stuck here!”

“Stop…talking…!” the other girl growls through the pain. “It’s making it worse.”

Sasuke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Why? Why is it always me? Why is Sakura never on hand when Sarada gets herself into situations like this?

A mental image pops up of his wife furiously reminding him of her miserable nine-month-morning sickness and a ruined vagina.

Oh. Right.

Though, personally he doesn’t know what she’s complaining about (he has no issues with her vagina as it is), he can acknowledge that she went through the most difficult bit of bringing their daughter into the world. Perhaps this is the universe’s way of balancing karma or something.

He considers this and thinks he might have preferred to be the one to give birth. At least then it would have been over with in less than a day…

“Fuck…”

There’s utter silence in the next room.

“…Dad?” The word is timid and questioning, hope mingled with humiliation. “Are you there?”

Thunk!

Sasuke lets his head fall against the hallway wall in defeat.

“Yes. I was dropping off vegetable from your mother,” he says eventually. “Do you need help?”

Panicked silence, the sound of Sarada whispering and Wasabi snaps, “Yes we want his help!”

Well, at least this one has sense. If they don’t break up over this incident, maybe she can teach his daughter some. “Are you both…decent?”

“Sarada, if you don’t get your old man in here now, I will bite through your jugular and—!”

The rest of the diatribe is cut off like a record hauled off the turntable; there’s rustling sound and then Sarada squeaks, “Come in.”

Cautiously, Sasuke peeks around the doorway to assess the situation.

The girls are still in a tangle of limbs, but Wasabi is unconscious—Genjutsu. Hmph. Well, at least she’s learned something—and a heavy burden draped across Sarada’s (mercifully hidden) body. His daughter has somehow managed to arrange a quilt and a discarded shirt to cover any flesh that he doesn’t want to see, but she’s still trapped underneath her—

Roommate? Girlfriend? Partner?

If he thinks about questions like that, he doesn’t have to focus too much on yet another embarrassing situation.

“We’ll move her carefully so as not to do any further damage,” Sasuke tells Sarada; decades of marriage to Sakura have taught him enough about fractures to be wary. Then he adds conversationally, “Have you considered becoming a monk?”

She scowls at him, blowing a lock of Wasabi’s hair out of her face. “Monks don’t have sex.”

“Exactly. And they lead perfectly fulfilling lives and don’t injure anyone.”

“Or you could tell me how you and mom have managed.”

“No,” Sasuke says immediately. That is a conversation for her and your mother, one which he doesn’t want to know if it ever happens or not. That is where he draws the line.

Yes, he gets the irony in that, considering he’s trying to carefully move his daughter’s – paramour? Lover?— off of said daughter without injuring her spine or any internal organs. But really, at this point, enough is enough.

“If I had my time back, I’d have insisted your mother train you in medical ninjutsu,” he tells her. “Clearly learning better chakra control would have benefitted you more than wielding a sword.”

“Very funny,” Sarada grumbles, tugging the quilt across her torso a little tighter as Sasuke starts to move the other woman off her. “I could always just date someone invulnerable. Then it wouldn’t be a problem.” She thinks about this for a moment, and then her face brightens in speculation. “Come to think of it, Mitsuki—”

“No,” Sasuke cuts her off, shifting the other girl enough that Sarada can get out and closing his eyes tight. “Now get dressed and help me stabilize her so we can get to the hospital.”

He hears her moving around the living room, grabbing articles of clothing; a second later, he senses her presence right beside him and then feels a quick peck on his temple.

“Thanks for rescuing me again, Dad,” she tells him solemnly, and then flounces from the room.

Sasuke just sighs.

It’s not easy being the ‘dad’…

終わり

Phew! Well, that’s officially the longest thing I’ve written in a long time. And it was a lot of fun. I hope everyone liked it ^_^ I’m exhausted now, though, so I probably won’t have it all edited nicely and on ao3/ffnet until next week. Think I’m gonna rest my brain a few days.

Thanks for reading, guys!

クリ

[lildaveselectronics]

[Street Fighter V] Extra Battle: Viable Ryu

If you were lucky enough to get the Extra Boss Battle before July 1, 2018 you got a chance to fight Ryu dubbed "The Master" it cost 1000FM to fight him and just like with Fortnite Thanos was for a limited time this is something I want to see more of in the future with different games and even more possible limited time crossover events that keeps interest and can change, add, or improve gameplay keeping things fresh, fun and unpredictable for the gamer. I think both are cool ideas and watching MDZ Jimmy fight what he calls him Viable Ryu was funny and entertaining check it out. This was pretty cool I had just made a post about the new DLC character G and the speculation on who he is and some of the boss battles of SFV so it was cool to see the Ryu The Master "A True Martial Artist" in his traditional Gi. G and Ryu's rival Sagat are the last 2 planned DLC characters planned coming out later this year, and with ideas like this they can keep the game fresh for years to come.

Bonus:

VesperArcade has been putting up a lot of quality strategy and advice videos for many of the top games this year including the fighting game genre. With the release of the character called G getting closer wanted to revisit one of the best years for fighting games.

Extra Bonus:

With Street Fighter celebrating its 30th Anniversary and speculation on who G is, Mortal Kombat coincidentally just came off of celebrating its 25th Anniversary and many anticipating a new Mortal Kombat game (Mortal Kombat 11) and whether the game would take place before or after Armageddon. SMGxPrincess, Dynasty, BruskPoet, History Behind the Warrior and Super have some of the best informative, fun insights, and gameplay with Mugen creators Borg117 & Bleed having some of the best new gameplay ideas, and Mortal Kombat Addict has his own Krypt Secrets with some of the best Mugen Mortal Kombat games. Mortal Kombat has a huge following and a strong enough background to keep the game going with all the secrets and characters already in the game but it would still be cool to see something new. Many wanted a crossover game with Street Fighter or even Killer Instinct but on its own it is still one of the top fighting games of the genre.

Kreate-a-Fighter was one of the best features from Mortal Kombat Armageddon between that and the Epic Gears and Shaders from Injustice 2 they are the perfect combination.

Update: 

Dynasty has just posted New Mortal Kombat details in the form of a movie instead of the anticipated Mortal Kombat 11 game. Here they introduce a new character and a new story not necessarily what we know of Mortal Kombat. More of a spin off or a custom Mugen game, even though I was hoping for some kind of answer what happens after Armageddon I welcome any new idea and if done well it can work even though not canon (like the Japanese/Chinese relationship with Liu Kang & Kung Lao - ninja/shaolin monk brother relationship but without stereotyping it can happen right? I'm sure they will explain it like they picked which martial art or style they wanted when they were young). Mortal Kombat Rebirth pitch wasn't exactly canon either but looked good enough that we wanted to see it anyway. They did Mortal Kombat Legacy 1 & 2 instead but Mortal Kombat Rebirth I think would have worked. 

New ideas sometimes keeps interest just like in the Kreate-a-Fighter post where Dynasty, Brusk Poet, SMGxPrincess and other fans game post ideas that gamers actually want as well as Borg117, Bleed, and Mortal Kombat Addict reinventing Mortal Kombat with gameplay that adds new experiences. Check out the new Mortal Kombat Movie details and see what you think as well as the Mortal Kombat Rebirth pitch and the version they actually went with Mortal Kombat Legacy 1 & 2, and check some great ideas for the new MK game in the Kreate-a-Fighter post and SMGxPrincess post below.

New Mortal Kombat Movie Details? Character Cast & Story Plot Revealed w/ No Sub-Zero & Scorpion?!

SMGxPrincess usually has on point information and knows what she is talking about when it comes to the industry haven’t heard anything yet so I decided to put up the best ideas and information from SMGxPrincess and Dynasty. She posted information about a Shaolin Monks 2 as the next game personally I want the new Mortal Kombat 11 so hopefully both are true or it is combination of the 2.

MORTAL KOMBAT: REBIRTH (1080 HD)

(This trailer actually works just tap play it had Reptile as the thumbnail but it works.)

Mortal Kombat: Legacy Trailer

[HD] Mortal Kombat: Legacy II | Trailer

Mortal Kombat is a one of a kind fighting game that keeps expanding and offers fans and gamers a like new ways to enjoy the franchise. For fans of the MK series check out some of the latest movies and games out and coming out each bringing its own unique direction that can also stand on its own and bring something new and entertaining.

IS BLADE OF THE IMMORTAL THE ANSWER TO CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON?

Blade of the Immortal has gotten overall a great reception with critics and fans alike scoring in the range of 85% of 81 critics they have consistently gotten the approval needed to solidify its space as a classic and gem that everyone needs to know about. It was based on a manga of the same name by Hiroaki Samura and is the 100th film from its director Takashi Miike.

IMMORTAL Unchained - First Gameplay Trailer (New RPG 2018) PS4/Xbox One/PC

Immortal Unchained: First 45 Minutes (Gameplay)

CRACKDOWN 3 gameplay 4k (e3 2017) Xbox One X

Crackdown 3 Trailer - E3 2018

RED FACTION GUERRILLA RE-MARS-TERED AND SAINTS ROW IS BACKWARDS COMPATIBLE!

Volition earlier in the year was bought by THQ Nordic reuniting them with old Volition titles from the past like Summoner and Red Faction. If you are not familiar with the Red Faction series you are in luck Red Faction Guerrilla is being remastered and if that’s not enough Saints Row 1 and 2 are now backwards compatible on the Xbox One. MrSaintsGodzilla21 has posted 2 videos so you can see how well these two have been upgraded as well as detailed explanation.

Agents of Mayhem had mixed reviews when it came out but it was a different perspective that even though is chaotic it is different enough you won’t confuse it with a Saints Row game kind of how Saints Row the Third separated itself from being a GTA clone. Check out Agents of Mayhem on Playstation Underground and hightlights for Agents of Mayhem and 10 years of Saints Row.

Anon | Official Trailer [HD] | Netflix

Jamie Foxx has been confirmed to play Spawn in this new reboot by the comic creator and artist Todd McFarlane in association with Blumhouse Productions which made news last year with its movie Get Out. It is said that they are taking more of a horror approach, as well as Spawn not really speaking. That works good with Jason or Michael Myers but some dialog would be good I hope they rethink that. I would like to see what the official word is from Todd McFarlane himself but Spawn not saying anything doesn’t sound right to me.

Since Spawn has been anticipated by fans of the comic, movies and video games here is the History of Spawn by Variant very entertaining and knowledgeable to watch and History of the Warrior talks about the real reason Spawn wasn’t in Injustice 2 well thought out and entertaining.

WILL 2 JOKERS BE THE BRIGHT IDEA THAT WILL DO DC COMICS JUSTICE?

If you had to choose the next Joker movie to be based around the one from Batman or Suicide Squad which would you pick? Personally as a fan of Suicide Squad and wanting to see something new I think it was good news that Jared Leto was getting an opportunity to play that version of the Joker to see where the story goes as this version looks different and even acts different. But for the sake of argument Joaquinn Phoenix playing the original Joker and having this version also a standalone movie seems like the best of both worlds.

MCU Could Tackle Horror Genre According to Kevin Feige

Marvel is thinking about getting in on the horror movie action and thinking about a few characters like Man-Thing and Blade. Blade one of the more popular characters in the Marvel Comics Universe already has a trilogy out on DVD and Blu-ray but getting a revamp wouldn’t hurt and I would like to see the direction they would. There is currently a Blade television show called Blade The Series you can watch now on the CW staring Kirk Jones (Sticky Fingaz from the group Onyx)

Joaquin Phoenix has just been officially announced as the Joker for the Origin film they are making, for any fans of Batman or the Joker check the new game Batman: The Enemy Within as well some of the older Batman games like Batman: Return to Arkham.

WB Officially Announces Joker Origin Movie With Joaquin Phoenix

Telltale’s Batman: The Enemy Within Episode 1: ‘The Enigma’ Review

Batman: Return to Arkham includes what is considered to be 2 of the best games ever made now remastered for the new generation of players on the Playstation 4 and Xbox One. The game comes with 2 classics Batman: Arkham Asylum and Batman: Arkham City. With the power of the Unreal Engine 4 giving it that graphical upgrade it looks better then before. Even though it has received mixed reviews it is still worth the pick up whether you are a new to the series or played it on the previous systems.

Update:

Adding information about Season 2 of The Punisher from IGN, also one of the better movies of 2017 Murder On The Oriental Express, 25 facts about Jigsaw from the Saw series and Team Spoiler.

[ivesundlillies]

A Viking’s Vow: Part I

Okay, i don’t fucking know about this one: @persephone-is-here-omg got me into Alex Hogh Andersen, which got me into Vikings, which got me into Ivar so, yeah… Then I started writing about Ivar’s wedding night with a Spanish princess and came up with this mess. There might be a part two; let’s see how things go.

Sophia sat on her wedding bed, her hands shaking with nervousness and her stomach rolling in fear.

This was not how it was supposed to be. From a young age, the Spanish princess had been warned of an arranged marriage, possibly to an English or French royal. The marriage would be nothing more than a political move, an alliance between nations that would move toward the greater good of the people- and for this Sofia had prepared herself. The stunning royal was schooled in both the English and French languages and dialects, she had learned their customs and habits and did her best to mold herself into a prospective queen fit for a king of either land.

And yet, God had seen to send her on a different path- a strange path that none of her tutors could have braced her for. Marriage to a Northmen, a savage and a cripple at that. Upon news of her betrothal, every servant in the palace had sought out some news of their mistress’s future husband- though none of what she had heard put her mind at ease. By now Sophia knew everything; the story surrounding his birth and the curse of his ‘broken’ legs, his difficult childhood, his sadistic tendencies, how he killed his brother, how he ENJOYED killing and what seemed worse, if just for the moment; how he could not bed a woman.

A rumor, no doubt spread by his enemies and yet, the thought of it being true somehow frightened the princess more than the stories of him in battle.

‘Men are like beasts, dear Sophie’ her brother had told her when she had first witnessed soldiers raping a slave 'Desire builds up inside them, eats them up, destroys them and everything in their wake- it is not until they have release that they may be like men again’

'But not every man’ she insisted, her eyes wide 'The English monks and our priests take vows of celibacy, perhaps-’

He shook his head. 'It is only through the strength of Christ, our Lord, that men might have the strength to resist… and sometimes, not even then. You are not naive, hermanita; you have heard the stories of the men of God having illegitimate children’

'Yes, of course. But, if a man can not- does not find relief, then what?’

'Then he remains a beast’

Tears rose up into the princess’s eyes and she did her best to hold back a sob; what kind of wedding night would this be? What kind of marriage was she going to have?

Arms wrapped around her shaking shoulders and Sofia leaned into the embrace of her maid. “There, there; everything will be alright, princess. Just remember what your mother told you; keep as still as possible and it will not hurt so much, try your best not to cry out and if at all possible, attempt to enjoy it- that will please your new husband greatly. For I’m sure these Northmen are just the same as any man”

“And- and if he enjoys hurting me?” Sophia asked, attempting to regain some semblance of control “If my new husband is the savage that so many men speak of? Then what?”

“Hush now! Do not believe the stories you have heard from the court; they had probably never seen the man for themselves until the wedding and you know how stories grow with each ear they are sent to. And as far as being a savage, most men are when it comes to the battlefield; I reserve my judgment on this Northman until I hear from you.”

The maid wiped the tears from her face and stroked her hair for a few moments until the sounds of voices reached the outside of her chamber door.

“Stay strong, child”

Her maid released her, leaving her alone on the bed as the Cardinal walked in, followed by the dragging sounds of her new husband. Sophia said a silent prayer as the Northman- (no, Ivar; she must call him by his name now that they were married) crawled over to their bed. One of his brothers, (Ubbe, she remembered), attempted to help but he was pushed away with a surprising amount of force by her new husband.

“No! I am not a dog that needs to be set on the bed, I can manage” he grunted, holding onto the four poster bed and hoisting himself up to his new wife.

Despite their distance, Sophia’s heart began racing even faster as her new reality set in. She was now married to this man, this monster- in the eyes of both the law and land, they were bound by Christ and they were about to (or at least try to) consummate their marriage in front of an audience. The brunette felt light-headed and nauseous as she struggled to maintain control.

“Are you hungry?”

Had her new husband actually spoken to her? “What?”

“Do you not speak the common language?” he inquired “I asked if you are hungry; you did not eat much at the wedding feast and you look as though you are about to faint.”

Both her husband’s tone and his concern surprised the princess and before she could answer the Cardinal spoke up.

“My Lord, we are pressed for time and this is to be a consummation, not a-”

“I DID NOT ASK FOR ADVICE, PRIEST!” he shouted, drawing a whimper from his new wife “MY BRIDE IS CLEARLY HUNGRY AND SHE WILL EAT SOMETHING BEFORE WE BEGIN OR I WILL PUT YOUR HEAD ON A SPIKE FOR ALL TO SEE!”

A servant almost instantly appeared with a board of fruit and cheese as well as a flagon of wine, which was set on the table next to the cardinal and maid.

“How is my new wife supposed to eat when the food is over there, slave?” Ivar asked, gesturing to her “Bring it to the bed so that we may both have the energy to continue what we have begun”

A chuckle was heard from Ubbe as the servant moved the cheese board to the bed. The youngest Ragnarsson scooted closer to his new bride and reached for the knife, causing everyone in the room to draw a breath before he sliced an apple an apple and held it to the brunette’s lips.

“Eat” he commanded.

Sophia did as she was told, taking it into her mouth. Ivar watched as she chewed and swallowed then repeated the action, alternating between cheese and fruit.

“Thank you, I’m full now,” she told him in Old Norse.

The Viking’s blue eyes widened in shock. “How do you speak my language?”

“When my father informed me that I would be married to you when you reached our land, I began studying your customs and your language. Although, my lessons left much to be desired as everything I learned was told to me by second-hand experience”        

Ivar grinned. “And what were you told of my people and our customs?”

The princess felt small under his gaze. “That-that you have free people and slaves, that honor is a large part of your way of life, that you have many Gods with many names and origins and that you are great warriors- feared by even the greatest armies.”

“And?”

“And…what?”

“You were not told of our savagery?” he grinned “Of how we sacrifice animals and men to appease the Gods? How we cover ourselves in the blood of those that we sacrifice?How we pillage on raids and how we rape the slaves that we take? How we hang the heads of the defeated from our ships? I am surprised that those little facts were left out of your lessons; or are you too pure to be tainted with such accounts of war?”

The brunette felt a wave of indignity rise within her. “I was informed, yes- however I sought to give you the benefit of the doubt before accusing you and your people of such atrocities.”

“Well they are true,” he informed her “Every story you have heard most likely has some measure of truth to it. Even the stories you have heard about me; I have killed many people, including my own brother, I enjoy killing and I will probably kill until the day that I reach Valhalla.”

Sophia’s stomach turned and she felt her small meal getting ready to make a second appearance.

“I do not mean to startle you, wife” Ivar insisted, his expression softening “I merely warn you of who I am, of the man that you are about to take to your bed and call husband. I have seen many marriages start on a foundation of lies and deceit only to crumble under the weight of truth; I do not wish for that to happen to us. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, my Lord”

He shook his head. “You must call me, Ivar. I am your husband now”

“I-I apologize… Ivar”

The Cardinal heaved a sigh. “If the princess is finished eating, then perhaps we might move things along? The law says that the marriage must be consummated on the wedding NIGHT and the hour is getting late.”

“Leave them be” Ubbe growled “They are getting to know each other”

In that moment, Sophia decided that she liked her new brother-in-law, even his defense wasn’t aimed at her.

The princess pushed the board towards her new husband in offering. “You can finish the rest if you’d like before we… get started”

It must have been a trick of light, the blush decorating her husband’s cheeks. “May I ask you a question, princess?”

“Sophia, please. And yes.. Ivar, husband”

“Have you ever been with a man?” he questioned, popping a grape into his mouth.

His question offended her. “You were promised a pure bride, one untainted by the touch of another man”

“Yes, but a father does not always know his daughter” he chuckled “So I am asking you, without judgment or fear of punishment, have you ever been with a man?”

Your eyes darted over to your maid, though she could not assist your explanation as she did not speak his language.

“No, I am a virgin in every way” she said, not wanting to dive into the details of her marital 'education’.

Ivar had an unreadable expression on his face as he finished off the last of their food; had she said something wrong? He had been promised a pure bride, but had he wanted something different? Sophia kept quiet as her Northmen set their dish on the floor and scooted up towards the pillows. Nervousness overtaking her again, the bride’s shaking fingers undid the straps of her robe, leaving her only in a thin shift. Ubbe walked towards the bed to close the curtains of the canopy and whispered so that only she could hear.

“Just be patient, everything will be alright”

And then it was just her and her husband, figuratively of course; her maid, the Cardinal and her new brother in law waited just on the other side of the material. Witnesses, her father had told her, in case of a dispute about the consummation or paternity was ever raised. In this moment, Sophia hated her royal Catholic traditions more than anything.

“Are you afraid?” Ivar asked, sounding small.

The brunette did her best to cover her breasts with her hands before facing him. “Yes, I- afraid of the unknown, afraid of the pain that will come, afraid that I will not please you, afraid that I will anger you and you will hurt me even more.”

“I don’t hurt people who do not deserve it” he informed her “and you have done absolutely nothing to earn my anger.”

“But if I do-”

“Then I will inform you and expect you to change your behavior” he interrupted “But I will not kill you simply for accidentally elbowing me in the stomach while we are having sex”

His matter of fact statement made the brunette laugh, though she tried to hold it in; she didn’t want her new husband to think she was laughing at him. But Ivar was not upset, it gave him an unspeakable joy to see his new wife smiling because of him; perhaps he would make her laugh more often.

“Come up here so that we may talk without my brother hearing” he whispered.

The brunette followed his instruction, crawling towards her husband and sinking down onto the pillow next to him.

“We do not have to lie together this night” he breathed into her ear “They cannot see us and they do not know what we sound like when having sex, we could simply pretend.”

A flicker of disappointment sparked in the brunette. “Whether they know what sounds we make or not, I am fairly certain that both your brother and my maid have had experience in the sexual arena. They will know we are not truly copulating and the Cardinal will catch on; we must do something! Our countries alliance depends on it”

Ivar sat back against the pillows and crossed his arms. “And if I do not wish to sleep with you?”

He hadn’t said 'tonight’, Sophia noticed; simply 'if I do not wish’. It was as if her husband was quietly stating that he would never have sex with her. But why? Was it the rumor of his impotence? Could the rumor be true? Or could it have been spoken so many times that Ivar now believed it, much like the stories of their Gods?

“Is it because you are not able to lie with a woman?”

The anger she had heard so much about erupted in her new husband’s eyes and he reached for her throat, locking his strong and callous roughened hands around her neck.

“Who told you?!?” he hissed, only slightly releasing his hands so that his new bride could speak.

Sophia shook her head as she gasped for air. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t care. I don’t care about it if it is true; I only care about my honor and the welfare of my people. If you don’t want me to lie with you, then I will not- but I will lie to others to make them believe that we have. If you wish for me to brag about your prowess, then I will. If you ask for me to stay quiet about the activities of our marital bed, then I shall. I am your wife now, Ivar: I seek only to please you.”

“If you wish to please me, then stay quiet” he hissed, rolling the princess onto her back.

Sophia lied completely still as her new husband pushed her shift up over her hips; the princess closed her eyes at the sound of her husband’s rustling clothes and she braced herself for the pain.

But the pain did not come.

Although she could feel the warmth of her new husband’s flesh against hers, she could feel none of the sensations that her mother and handmaidens had warned her of. There was no pressure, no pain, no sharp feeling as Ivar entered her- in fact, he hadn’t entered her. The Viking was simply thrusting against her as if trying to will his body to work with him, though nothing happened. Sophia stayed limp for a few minutes, giving her husband time; Ubbe had told her to be patient after all.

“Agh!” he screamed in frustration, throwing himself down next to his new bride.

A creak of the floorboards warned the new couple of someone approaching, perhaps the Cardinal; Ivar’s exclamation must have given the wrong impression and he was now coming to inspect their bed sheets as proof of her virginity.

In a moment of panic, Sophia shouted. “No, your Eminance! We have not finished yet…”

There was a moment of silence before a put-upon sigh was heaved and the Cardinal sat back down. There was no way out of this, the princess now realized, they would have to consummate their marriage in some way or else all of this would have been for absolutely nothing and their people would suffer.

“Please let me try something” she whispered to the man next to her.

Ivar looked very unimpressed until his wife reached in between her legs. “What are you doing?!?”

“Shh!” she whispered, pressing a hand to his mouth “It is something one of my maids told me about, she said that if I rubbed a certain spot that I would begin to moisten and it would ease your way into me. And perhaps if, when I am ready and on top, it will be easier for you”

He removed her hand from his mouth and bared his teeth. “I do not need your help”

“Yes, you do” she retorted “As I need yours… now, hush”

The groom’s head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes, defeated by his own body and furious at the woman next to him who refused to give up. Without his interference, the princess was finally able to relax and focus on her actions; she had only done this a handful of times, mainly in the bath and with the courage of her maids who informed her that it was not only pleasurable for herself but something that her new husband would enjoy as well. Sophia touched herself and hardly held back a choked moan when she did it again, feeling a slickness form in between her legs.

“Why do you sound wet?” Ivar asked, trying to squirm away “If you have pissed on the bed-”

“It is not piss! It is just a normal gathering of moisture; it happens inside of a woman when she is enjoying what is being done to her. My brothers and cousins say that is the truest sign that a woman is getting close. And it… it feels good for a man, when he is inside”

Ivar turned his head, suspicious of her knowledge. “How do you know so much if you have never been with a man?”

“I have very, oh!, talkative maids. And very crass brothers who seek to make me blush at every turn. I have been, mm!, preparing my mind for this moment so that I would not disappoint my new husband when the time came ” she informed him.

Without asking, (And why should he have to ask? It was his marital right!) Ivar reached down and pressed his fingers with his new wife’s, jumping in shock when a loud moan erupted from her lips. Sophia’s green eyes widened in embarrassment but her husband smirked, doing it again and moving his fingers in small circles. She couldn’t help but whimper, now realizing how dramatically different it felt to have another’s fingers in the place of her own, learning and adapting to what gave her the most pleasure.

“Oh, oh I-Ivar!”

He sped up his movements in response to his new bride’s cries; he was having so much pleasuring his wife, he growled when she pushed his hand away.  

“Why did you stop me?”

Sophia tried desperately to catch her breath. “Because we do not have time for that- I need you to press your fingers inside of me, husband. Two, three fingers if you can manage it; I am wet enough and you must pierce my maidenhead so that the Cardinal can come and inspect the sheets.”

Ivar was prepared to argue until he saw the desperation in his new wife’s eyes, her bright green orbs begging for his help. Sighing, the cripple turned onto his side and slid his hand down to his bride’s slick center; something snapped inside of him once his skin met the wetness of hers though Ivar couldn’t put a name on what it was. His fingers danced across her skin and he could have sworn that he felt a tightening in his groin, a strong and warm pull radiating from between his useless legs.

“Now, Ivar” she whispered.

Remembering his task, Ivar brought his fingers closer to the lips of her entrance and used his free hand to turn her head towards him.

“Bite me if you must, to quell the pain”

The Northman immediately shoved several fingers into her at once and Sophia’s teeth clamped down onto her husband’s shoulder as she shrieked in agony. Ivar stilled his hand, reveling in the feeling of her tight channel clamping down on him like a vise. It made him wonder how much better it would feel if his cock were in this place instead…

“H-husband, you must pull them out and bring them back into me again” the princess whimpered.

He shook his head. “But I am already hurting you. I don’t want to-”

“Just do it!” she commanded, now reaching out to squeeze his opposite shoulder.

Once again he did as he was told, moving his fingers in and out of her at least a dozen times before the beauty pushed him away for good. Sophia mewled in pain and rolled to the opposite side of the bed before pulling her shift down to protect her modesty. But Ivar wasn’t looking at her body, he was too busy staring at the circle of blood now decorating their marital bed and something in the Viking twisted until he felt the urge to vomit. It wasn’t the sight of blood per se, but the knowledge of where it had come from coupled with the thought that he had been responsible. There was so much blood, so much more blood than his brothers had told him about and he was ashamed of himself; he had done this to his new wife after promising that he would never deliberately hurt her. And he had hurt her, that much was obvious; if the shivering of her whole body and the stifled tears were anything to go by.

Ivar looked down at his hand, now stained with his wife’s blood. He wiped off what he could on the front of his pants before he sat up and called to the cardinal.

“We have finished now, priest. You are welcome to come in and join us if you would like”

He heard the sound of his brother snicker before the canopy curtains were drawn wide open, illuminating the mess before them.

The Cardinal stared at the blood on the sheet and gave a nod of approval, then looking at a shaking Sophia whose shift was now stained with her virginal blood.

“It appears that the marriage has indeed been consummated, though by what nature I am not entirely sure” he commented, his gaze honing in on the Viking’s hand.

“You did not tell me in which order she must be taken, priest” Ivar crudely joked, waving his bloody fingers “After all, is it not polite to break in a virgin before taking her completely?”

At this comment, Sophia cried out and curled up into a ball before she began sobbing hysterically. Ubbe stepped in to protect both his brother and his new sister in law from anymore prying eyes; both Ivar and Sophia had had enough torment for one night.

“That is enough! You said they must consummate their marriage and they have, you have the proof: we are all witnesses and you have the sheets as if my poor sister’s tears are not evidence enough. Now leave, before you get any more ideas.”

His Eminance said a short prayer blessing their marriage before closing the door behind him, leaving the brothers and the Spanish women to their own devices. Sophia was still crying, though for why she did not know; she just felt like crying for the rest of the evening, even if there was no real reason for her tears.

“Slave-maid” Ivar said, snapping his fingers “Take my new wife to her old room and prepare her a bath. Ask for some food if she is hungry and then put her to bed, though I don’t want you leaving her side this evening. She has had a trying day and I’m sure she will find more comfort in your presence than she will in mine. Now leave us.”

“Yes, my Lord” she replied, standing up and reaching for her mistress’s robe.

The blue-eyed prince watched as his new wife was swaddled up and led out, still crying. Ubbe raised an eyebrow but said nothing, simply bowing before his brother in mock respect and exiting as well, leaving his youngest brother to own thoughts and an empty, bloody marital bed.

                                                                 *

That’s what I’ve got for now; lemme know if you’re interested in a part two

[dcnativegal]

“Mutual respect, even in passionate disagreement”

The Ides of March, 2018

I am reminded of the fact that Lake County Oregon went for Trump by a bigger percentage than any other county in Oregon, whenever I go to the Paisley Mercantile Store. (See photos, above.)

The other day, one of the members of this little town came over and visited with Valerie and me. He’s a gun-packing retired fellow who has a new implant in his head that helps him hear better. He wanted to know if I’d knit him a cap to cover his mostly bald head, and hide the implant, which does have a slightly bionic/Frankenstein look about it. I said, of course. And then in the course of chatting, he called me a ‘Libtard.’ That’s liberal + retard.  I looked at him with my most skeptical high eyebrows expression. He backpedaled a bit, said he meant ‘libertarian’ which, ahem, I am most certainly not.  Right-o, let me get working on that hat.

I resisted the temptation to call him a Repugnican (a repugnant Republican, the most extreme kind.)  It’s just so much harder to say.

Within a few days, I came to a community meeting I knew he’d be at and tossed the hat to him. Before I left I told him, no charge for the hat but in exchange, you have to tell anyone who asks you where you got that hat, that a ‘local libtard’ made it for you. And everyone laughed, except him. He grinned nervously.

So a crocheted cap can be a bridge between a conservative and a libtard. Good to know.

***

It’s hard for me to feel contempt for a person who is no longer ‘theoretical’ but is instead standing or sitting right across from me.

I am, in my socialist progressivism, now spending hours each week in the presence of cisgendered heterosexual white men who have recent histories of domestic violence, felonies for assault, and sex offenses for which they are registered. Oh, and they all love Trump. I have always thought that God had a well-honed sense of humor. Ha. Let’s send Jane to Trumpistan, Whitelandia and test all that talk of compassion and empathy. I’m not the Biblical Job by any means, but some days it feels like the devil and God hatched up the most exquisite challenges to my previously-confident world view.

I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts, “Closer than they appear.” The host had on Van Jones, who I know as a broadcast commentator (and a very fine-looking Black man). I was riveted by what he said, and had to listen to him several times to transcribe this wisdom:

“We have 10,000 years of human history in which it was perfectly okay to chop people into small bits just because they were part of a tribe on the other side of the hill. … The idea that your tribe of people is now EVERYBODY?? EVERY Human? That idea is NEW ON THIS EARTH. THAT is the challenge.” [emphasis mine]

I think the idea that my “tribe of people is EVERYBODY” is a very old one. Jesus extended beyond his own tribe (the Jews), to everybody including the colonized collaborators and the unclean (the Samaritan woman who’d been married many times, Jewish tax collectors who worked for the Roman colonizers.) We are even to LOVE our enemies.

The Gospel of Mathew wrote some version of this: “You have heard that it was said, you shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you… God makes the sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.

I love this hymn:

    In Christ there is no East or West, in him no South or North, but one great fellowship of love throughout the whole wide earth.

    Join hands, disciples of the faith, whate'er your race may be! Who serves my Father as his child is surely kin to me.    https://hymnary.org/hymn/EH1982/529  

The idea of being one species on the planet, interconnected to each other and all other species, has to be reintroduced over and over again. I think we are hardwired to distrust that tribe over the next hill: surely, they are doing something nefarious…

**

When I was growing up, the most dramatic example of loving my enemies came when my mother told me to pray for whichever kid it was who stole my bicycle. It was an interesting challenge. Did I need to feel sorry for him, that he would need to steal my bike? Was he poor? Or was he just mean?  Perhaps his family had as much money or more than mine did, since we were, apartment dwellers, renters, and didn’t even have a car. Maybe the theft was just a spiteful thing. “That bike is MINE, even though I don’t really need it.”  I didn’t know. But I was to think of him as a child of God, a brother in Christ, and hope for his wellbeing, and hoped that, whatever reason lead to my bike being gone, would be resolved. My mother was nuts, but she a pretty good Christian.

**

I learned from a Christmas letter about a non-profit called “Better Angels” that got its name from Abraham Lincoln’s First Inaugural speech on the eve of the Civil War: “We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory…will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.” Better Angels was started by a guy who was against gay marriage until a gay man came out to him and explained why it was important to him personally. David Blankenhorn changed his position on marriage equality and eventually founded Better Angels. Using principles from family therapy, his team trains people to facilitate conversations between equal numbers of conservatives and liberals. They give advice on how to start conversations with people who have different beliefs on their web site:  

“Talking Across the Political Divide

  Goals for these Conversations:

·       Learn about the perspectives, feelings, and experiences of someone you care about who differs from you politically.

·       Discover some common ground if it’s there.

  Expectations to Abandon

·       That you can persuade the other person to change core attitudes and beliefs.  

·       That your conversation partner will match your openness.

  Core Principles

·       Everyone needs to save face—no one is portrayed as stupid, blind, narrowly self-serving, or bigoted. “ [emphasis mine.]

And “Listen for underlying values and aspirations and acknowledge them.”

 I am presuming here that name-calling is out.

**

I checked out Van Jones’ book, published in October 2017, called Beyond the Messy Truth: How we came apart, How we come together:

“More of us need to prioritize individual healing to get past our old hurts, wounds, and violations…We need to develop the emotional strength and resilience to reengage intelligently and constructively with the half of America that sees things very differently than we do. It takes a lot of inner work, community support, and maybe a few Jedi mind tricks to deliberately and skillfully place ourselves in conversation with people whose ideas, assumptions, and attitudes often wound us…”

I confess I was a little bit wounded by the ‘libtard’ moniker. I was also wounded months ago by my fellow Christian’s statement, patronizing though sincerely delivered, that he could love me as a sister in Christ while disapproving of my ‘lifestyle.’ (We were sitting in the “community church” in Paisley.)

Mr. Jones points out:

“…the truth is always messy. Some right-wingers are especially extreme in their opposition to social-welfare programs because they think ‘lazy, undeserving’ nonwhites are mooching off the system. At the same time, some liberals are willing to pay higher taxes to help poor people in the abstract, but they would fight to keep lower income people from moving in next door (as some wealthy liberals in California’s Marin County are working to block affordable housing in their enclave) … We need to continually remind ourselves that honest, intelligent people can disagree with us for reasons that are honorable.”

That is for sure. Obama deported thousands of people and killed non-Americans with drones. Bill Clinton eviscerated welfare and passed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. I am reminded of a saying: Southern whites don’t like Black People, but they like the individual Black folks they know. Northern whites love Black People, but not the individual Black folks they know.

“If we seriously want to solve any of the mountain of problems we face – or even just be better partisans—we need some spaces where we listen to one another and show up humble enough to accept the fact that we might have something to learn. We need to have conversations that proceed according to a different set of operating instructions. The unspoken imperative should be this: I want to understand you. And I want you to understand me—whether or not we ever agree.”  [Emphasis is Jones’]

I once went through a weeklong training in mind-body techniques with the founder of the Center for Mind-Body Medicine, a fellow named James Gordon, a rather refreshingly wacky psychiatrist. In a comment piece in The Guardian, he said this shortly after Trump’s election:

“Trump’s grand and vulgar self-absorption is inviting all of us to examine our own selfishness. His ignorance calls us to attend to our own blind spots. The fears that he stokes and the isolation he promotes goad us to be braver, more generous.”  

In a Huffington Post piece, there’s this from a Buddhist monk named Phap Dung:  “We have the wrong perception that we are separate from the other,” he said. “In a way Trump is a product of a certain way of being in this world so it is very easy to have him as a scapegoat. But if we look closely, we have elements of Trump in us and it is helpful to have time to reflect on that.”

Yeah, okay, I need to be braver and more generous, and attend to my blind spots. What were those Jedi mind-tricks Mr. Jones mentioned?  Harrumph.

**

Valerie and I are currently reading the Hillbilly Elegy to each other. I know that the author is conservative and I’m trying to listen and read J.D. Vance’s memoir without letting that knowledge discredit the experiences he shares in the book. I see that in Lake County, and all over the US, ­­­there are class tensions as well as political ones, and this memoir makes them visible for me. I have one more quote from Van Jones that pushes me to think of my own biases:

“Mutual respect, even in passionate disagreement, must be the goal. Too many liberals look at the red states the same way that colonizers once viewed developing countries. All they see is a bunch of backward, unwashed, uneducated heathens who need to be converted to the NPR religion and force-fed kale until they see the light. This kind of disdain reveals itself in thousands of different ways. But you can’t lead people you don’t love. You can’t rally people you don’t respect. Throughout history, people have resisted being conquered or converted by contemptuous outsiders. If we continue to show up with that attitude, our every word and gesture just fertilizes the soil for white nationalists and others who traffic in the politics of resentment. Without knowing it, we give ammo to the very forces decent-minded people want to defeat.”

Many of my clients are seriously unwashed, and uneducated with barely a GED between them, but all of them have accepted me as an out lesbian from a big city on the east coast. I think my clients know that I am not in the least contemptuous. Puzzled as to why they don’t believe in evolution or global warming, yes. But, contemptuous? No.  

One of my clients is a Veteran, and I case managed his way into finally getting cleared for an operation he’s needed for some time. He’s older than 70, but other than the one issue, he is healthy as a horse. Except for along history of multi-substance abuse, he’s also a law-abiding citizen who supports himself by his own physical labor. He refuses to apply for Social Security. In order to get to Bend where he’ll have his procedure, he needs a ride, because he can’t drive himself home. And he utterly, flat out refuses to use the transportation that is subsidized by taxpayers to get him there for free. Will. Not. Consider. It. I gently asked him why? He stated without hesitation, that accepting a free ride is a form of stealing from taxpayers, and he just isn’t going to do it on principle. He is socially isolated but eventually he bartered with an acquaintance and has a ride both ways.  I think that eventually he’s going to become disabled, because despite his physical strength, his body is going to give out. Perhaps his mind, too. I wonder what he’ll do then.  Even libertarians can’t be an island forever. I am happy to serve as a ferry to the mainland if he’ll let me, when the time comes.

I didn’t ask him what he thinks of ‘corporate welfare’:

[graphic from Robert Reich’s documentary, Saving Capitalism, funded by Netflix]

**

Remember Senator Obama’s speech to the Democratic Party Convention in 2004? His oration put him on the political map. It certainly appealed to the great big-heartedness of the liberal tradition:

“... Alongside our famous individualism, there's another ingredient in the American saga, a belief that we are all connected as one people.  … "E pluribus unum," out of many, one. ...

There's not a liberal America and a conservative America; there's the United States of America.

There's not a black America and white America and Latino America and Asian America; there's the United States of America.

… We worship an awesome God in the blue states, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the red states.

We coach little league in the blue states and, yes, we've got some gay friends in the red states. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq, and there are patriots who supported the war in Iraq. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.

The audacity of hope: In the end, that is God's greatest gift to us, the bedrock of this nation, a belief in things not seen, a belief that there are better days ahead.”

 **

The least we can do in Trumpistan, Whitelandia is defy the Russians, who have apparently fanned the flames of American tribalism for years.

Van Jones writes: “The easy thing to do is to divide people based on a problem. A hard thing is to unite people based on a solution.”

My prayer can be, "May I be a boat, a bridge, a passage."

 (From A Bodhisattva's Prayer by Shantideva)

One day at a time, one person at a time, one crocheted hat for a cranky old man at a time.

[ashleybabcock1995]

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TheAmazingUchihaBruhs

Also read:  what happened previously 

The Wreck!  (Part 1)

“Alright”

I walked inside the living room, until I reached the coffee table.

“I want your total honest opinion. Is this good? Too much? Or too less?”

Izuna looked up from his phone and narrowed his eyes. He put his phone next to him and threw the magazines and books off the table.

“Go stand in some better lighting” he said, indicating to the table

I don’t think half a meter higher would have done much difference for the lighting, but I wasn’t complaining. I needed some fashion advice. That is how desperate I was.

I stood on top of the coffee table.

“Oh no, no, no…” I felt Itachi wrap his arms from behind me and lift me off the coffee table.

“You are not wearing that. You are just going to some dumbass’s party. You are not the star of a strip club”

“Dude, it is just some leg” Shisui defended my outfit.

“It is, October, it is cold. He will get sick-”  

“Liquor keeps him warm”  Shisui cut Itachi off as he flipped the page of his case file. He finally was forced to look up and meet the glaring look my overprotective aniki gave him.

“Come on! Normally we basically force him to socialize and now he is willingly going to a party. No wonder that kid is fucked up in his mind if we are constantly criticizing him” Shisui said, straightening his back.

“You read one psychology magazine. Calm the fuck down”  Itachi said.

While they were arguing. I returned my attention to Izuna.

“Well?”

“Itachi hates it, that means it is good. Just the right bit of sexy”  Izuna said and stood up, finishing his text before putting his phone in his back pocket.

“Shisui, could you drive us?” Izuna asked.

“What happened to that expensive driving licence of yours?” Shisui looked up from his files. He seemed sort of frustrated, probably because he couldn’t get any work done with us ...being so..annoying.

“I am not taking my car to some ghetto neighbourhood. Nah”

I had to admit...That was the most mature thing Izuna has said in a while.

“We can take a cab back. So, you don’t have to wait up” I suggested. Grabbing my gift from the table.

“You really got him a gift? He literally said..No gifts” Izuna mocked me as we walked out of the house to the car.

“It is me. Besides, I figured it was a bit inappropriate to give in front of his family”  

Izuna suddenly turned around and I bumped against him.

“What naughty thing do you have in there”

I never saw him look this proud.

“Something he will be wearing….all night” A little smirked appeared on my face when I sat down in the back seat. To be fair..I made a T-shirt...It was orange with big black letters there was written “Sasuke’s Bitch”. I figured it would be funny and besides...It was not wrong.

I had to admit, Naruto and I were in sort of a vague zone. It was like...We were beyond “just friends” and leaning towards the relationship part and this was my way of subtle  pushing it.

“I think it is quite something. You going to the place you hate just because he asked”

Izuna sighed as he sat down next to me. He ran his hand down his hair, fixing his bangs. It was then that he noticed my silence.

“He didn’t ask you...Did he?” Izuna narrowed his eyes.

“I expected to surprise him”  I said, looking outside of the window, seeing Shisui approach his car.  “Besides...He said he didn’t ask me because he didn’t want to force me. But I am here willingly”

“Has it ever occurred to you that the reason why he kept this a secret was because...He..Maybe..Didn’t want you there?”

Shit…Izuna got me there..

“Naruto? He is not mean” Shisui said, adjusting the rear-view mirror.

“Oh stop acting like he is a saint” Itachi sat down in the passenger seat.

“What the..” Izuna looked at Itachi, wondering why he was even coming.

“Stop it you. We are going grocery shopping after dropping you two off. Please..The entire world does not evolve around you”

Itachi made a sassy hand gesture and I saw Izuna look at me.

“But your world does around him?”

I think he meant me with the “him” part.

He leaned in and whispered something in Itachi’s ear.

“No, you wouldn’t dare!” Itachi hissed.

“Watch. Me” Izuna said in a devious voice before sitting back down. I wondered what that was all about, but judging from the look niisan was giving me...It was probably about me.

“Alright...Back to me. Why wouldn’t he want me there? We are pretty close”

“Oh so you told him about shooting that guy and mo-”

Itachi suddenly hissed in pain when Shisui hit his shoulder.

“Does Suké know you fall asleep in the kitchen while actually nibbling on food?” Shisui tried to defend me again.

“Ha, jokes on you, he walked in on that seven times. Don’t test my relationship” Itachi said, folding his arms.

“Yeah...But you still don’t have the spare key of his apartment” I said and I heard Izuna and Shisui laugh at my comment.

“Oh wait...But I..Your little brother..Actually do have his spare keys” I said, holding up my keychain. Itachi’s eyes widened as he tried to grab it, put my reflection were just a little faster.

“Back to me” I said, turning my head to Izuna.  

“If worse comes to worse. I just give him the present and go home”

“But when best comes to best..You two will spend the rest of the night in a locked bedroom” Izuna pretended to make a shocked face.

I tucked my hair behind my ear, looking out of the window.

“Yeah, I will make sure to close the window so nobody in the garden will hear us ” I commented before looking back at Izuna. Suddenly the car stopped and God thanks I had my seatbelt on, unlike Izuna who bumped against Itachi’s chair.

I frowned and looked at both Shisui and Itachi who both turned their heads towards me with a rather blank expression.

“Princess, why don’t we go to Chuck E. Cheese instead?” Shisui suddenly said in a high pitch voice before trying to maintain himself.

“We can still make him a monk” I heard Itachi whisper.

“Have you ever imagined him bold? He cannot be a monk” Shisui hissed.

“Guys, come on! Can we stop making this a big deal!” I said frustrated, “Like really!” I sat back, folding my arms. “Nothing is going to happen anyway”

‘Yeah because the guy who has quikies  in a bathroom stall is so classy”

Sarcasm was mostly hard to detect in Izuna’s voice...But this was obvious.

“Can you just shut up” I glared at him. “When he is with me.. He is different”

“What do you mean? It is not like you two are…” I looked through the mirror at Itachi who stopped talking. His eyes widened.

“Anyone but him” he shook his head, looking sort of disappointed. That look kinda hurt.

“He is a good kid” Shisui said out loud...Not sure if it was to clarify to himself or niisan.

“Listen, we will talk about this...Can we go now” I  said.

“That means he is never going to talk about this” Izuna fake-translated.  I threw my head back.

My family is insane.

Ooxoxox

Arriving at the party. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go in that house. It was a pretty big, but it was made from wood and it seemed...Well..Kinda dead. There was graffiti on the side and the garden looked like a desert.

“Where would he get this location?” I asked, looking next to me only to see that my brother literally disappeared.

“Izuna?!” I looked around me only to see a hint of his shoulder already enter the house. Wow, he was fast ditching me. It was almost like...He wanted to get away from me as fast as possible.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to ruin this party for Naruto. I just had to go in there with a positive mind...But damn was this music loud, and I am not even in the house yet.

Oh...Here I was going again with all the complaining.

“Come on…” I sighed, entering the house. It was so crowded. I wonder if everybody of the city was invited? It was pretty dark, except for the coloured festival lights.

Who thought they would provide enough light?

I was looking around me. I barely knew any of these people, not even anyone from high school. It actually made me wonder if he excluded them on purpose...Just like he did me?

Oh no, nevermind. I saw Kiba playing beer pong with Lee. But I wasn’t going to go over there. Mainly because I was looking for Naruto. Who...I couldn’t really find.

“Naruto?” I opened a door, not knowing it was a bedroom

“sorry!”  I immediately said when I caught a glimpse of two girls in the bed. I shut the door and wanted to walk away from there as fast as possible.

But being in a hurry in a house crowded with people was not such a good idea. I bumped against somebody. I could feel some liquor fall over my chest. I took a step back, looking at the beer stain. Well. .I don’t know shit about laundry, but I knew that was going to set.

“Oh fuck-”

I looked up at the guy holding the now half empty cup.

“-you’re hot” he finished his sentence. Now I wished the music was louder, so I didn’t have to hear some drunk-head hit on me.

“Way out of your league” I said pushing him away from me.

How annoying this guy might have been, in a way he did help me with my troubles. Because I headed the other way I actually found Naruto. Only...I wasn’t sure anymore if it was a good thing or a bad one.  He was sitting on the couch, holding a drink while some bitch is sitting right next to him. His legs stretched over Naruto’s, while on the other side was some chick with her arm around his.

I was thinking of what Izuna said about Naruto not wanting me to this party for personal reasons...What if those personal reasons were that he could probably bang anyone at his party?  

Maybe I was just being paranoid! He is just being friendly! That is typical Naruto! Social..Friendly...Nice..

It took me every molecule of bravery in my body to go towards him.

“Hey” I tried not to shout, but it was kinda hard to get his attention..Even Though I was standing right in front of him.

“Naruto!” I had to shout...It was either that or hitting him and I figured I had done enough damage already.  He suddenly turned his head towards me and his eyes widened...Not in a good way. He pulled his arm back and pushed the guys legs off his lap before standing up.

“Sa-Sasukeh!” He shouted. “You came!”

He was not happy at all to see me, and he was not a good enough actor to fake it.

“Yeah...I didn’t have much to do. I figured it would be fun”

“O-ofcourse!” He suddenly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in a hug.

“I got you something!” I said,pulling out of the hug to hand him the package.

“Oh, you didn’t have to” He put the package on the coffee table before grabbing my arm “Let’s go outside!” He shouted, pulling me with him.

This all just gave me a bad feeling.

I turned my head, seeing a few people staring. At first, I thought it were just people looking what was going on, but...Well...Those were glared aimed towards me. I guess I am a generally hated person or everybody in this room has a crush on Naruto.

“Nice party” I said once we were outside.

Yeah that was me trying to be nice.

“What are you doing here?”  He asked me dead serious.

“Being a good friend and showing up at your party…” I wasn’t so sure of my answer anymore.

“You hate parties” He seemed  stressed.

“Sometimes things we love outweighs the things we hate” I looked at the ground. It is something I am used to doing when I feel scolding coming up...Or confrontation..Anything unpleasant on my side.

“No, no Sasuke, this is not the time to be romantic” he covered his eyes with his hand.

“It is a pretty good line, right?  I am going to use that one in my fanfiction” I tried to lighten the mood.

“Sasuke, listen..” He put his hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.

‘Is there something I did wrong?” I asked.

“No...No…” He pulled me in a hug.  “I am just very glad you are here” He said.

“Alright…” I was sure he was not glad. There was something up...But he wouldn’t tell me.

“You know,” I pulled out of the hug.  “I am going to grab a drink. Warm up” I said.

“Great idea, let’s go to a bar!” Naruto said.

“Uhn..You have an entire liquor table. Why would you want to go to a bar”

“Well...It’s ...Uhm...More personal. Y’know. Just us..No loud music...Or...A shit load of people-”

“Wow, Naruto. You don’t have to babysit me. You can just do whatever you want. I am just getting a few drinks, go to Tobirama and Izuna and take a cab home later” I cupped his cheek.

“It is your birthday..Have fun”  

He opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t get the chance to. Somebody screamed his name and I saw two guys heading towards him, wrapping an arm around him.

“Haven’t seen you in four years!” He said. He ruffled up Naruto’s hair.

And somehow Naruto did not seem comfortable..In fact. He seemed tense.

“We are partly to blame though. You know..Prison and shit” the other guy said, “but guess early releases are there for a reason”

Oh...Seems he can even make friends with ex-cons.

“Oh fuck, who is this?” The guy with the large hoody, pushed Naruto away and stood in front of me.  “Hey sweetie”

“Just no” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh damn, I was just being friendly. I wanted to have some conversation here. Meet people!” He said, moving his hands while he spoke.

“You remind me of somebody…” The other guy narrowed his eyes.

“Naaahh” Naruto,pushed them aside and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Your memory is just fucked. Maybe you should keep off the pills, dattebayo”

They chuckled.

“Speaking off pills. Happy birthday man!” The guy extended his hand and grabbed Naruto’s in some firm handshake.

I could see a small back getting exchanged. I looked at Naruto from the corner of my eye. I didn’t know he hung out with people like that.

“Thanks..But no thanks” Naruto returned this sneaky handshake.

“Come,Sasuke” He said, pulling me with him. “Enjoy the party you two”

We went to the backyard. I could see some people making out on some creaking bench swing.

“You want something to drink-”

“What was that all about?”  I interrupted him.

I was starting to find out the reason why he didn’t want me here. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous way.

“I am not going to lie to you. I used to hang out with them” he said, giving me this rather sad look.

“Yeah, I figured. Were those pills part of your friendship too?”

“No...Uhm...I once had them..Just to try out” He said.  

I frowned. He was a bad liar.

“Right” I sighed.

“This is why you didn’t want me here, isn’t it?” I looked up to meet his eyes.

“Not the entire reason…” He bit down his lip.

“Oh dumbass” I shook my head. ‘I am going to find my brother and tell him I am going, but you enjoy your party. I’ll see you Sunday”

I wanted to go back inside, but Naruto grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t be mad...Please?” He said, giving me the puppy eyes.

“No, I am not mad about shit you did in the past...We all have our...stories” I couldn’t word that more subtle. I leaned a little in so I could whisper in his ear.

“Just between us, you two friends back there...I actually think I arrested them four years ago.”

He chuckled before nodding.

“I kinda..Know it was you..” He said.

“How come? Oh right because you were a troubled youth”

“And you were some kid that was trying to make daddy proud of you by proofing how tough you were”

“We both were fucked-up” I said and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

“I am going to go before people figure it out” I said,  “enjoy your party”