#i guess when i don't stick to prompts i get long winded

[killuwumi]

Jealous Bard~ Venti/Zhongli x Fem!Reader

a/n: i just wrote this random blurb from a prompt on pinterest..lol..

warnings: possessiveness, fem reader, jealousy, not proof read, all lowercase (lazy writer alert). 

"He is a weapon. A killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick but that will not change it's nature."

the wind in mondstadt was whipping, it felt like it could blow you over as you sit under the windrise tree. venti was sitting next to you as those words fell from between his lips. it was unlike the sweet things he would sing about at the bar. it was crude and honest, yet still poetic.

you knew who he was referring to, you both knew as you sat and recovered. you had just gotten back from a trip to liyue to attend rex lapis's funeral. it was a long way home and you nestled under the windrise tree to regain your stamina and health. but venti was never far from his followers..never.

"i know venti, i know. you warned me about him before i even left to meet everyone in liyue. but look, i came back, i'm here aren't i?" venti scoffs at your words, a bitter and ugly jealous feeling in his chest that he isn't sure what to do with. he's tried countless times to stop you from meeting zhongli. that man is dangerous, venti knows this, of course he knows this. not only is his human form handsome and charming but he's got a lovely nation and connections.

now, venti would never want you to not find your sibling, but he knows more than he lets on about your sweet, dearest twin. venti knows he could help you move on! you wouldn't need to worry about anyone but him if you would just stay. put. but for god's sake you can't seem to stop traveling.

"i know, i know dandelion. i just worry! it is safe here, our conflict in mondstadt has been quelled..i just prefer you be safe." yes, he does prefer you to return to him, safe and sound. which is why he pulled a favor from an old friend. xiao. the adeptus that had been secretly trailing you for the entirety of your journey into the mountains of liyue. not that you would notice of course, you've never even laid eyes on xiao.

venti had offered to do a favor for xiao if he did this for him, he promised xiao it was all for your safety, and luckily venti steered you right along the path xiao usually watches when doing patrols. so conveniently there was never so much as a hilichural even in your way.

"i have to find my twin venti, i promise mondstadt will always be my home. and zhongli said he might be able to help!" a sweet laugh tumbles out of your mouth and right on to venti's listening ears. even if he is caught up in thought, your laugh is the only song he ever wants to hear. until the grating sound of another archon's name registers in venti's head. ah, he almost forgot that zhongli was still the topic of conversation. that lying bastard, that awful lord obsessed with contracts. venti could wager to guess zhongli knew just about as much as he did when it came to your sibling. and venti seems to somehow be rarely wrong.

he swears up and down that one day he is going to sweep the tips of those peaks in liyue right off and send them straight into the deep waters. then maybe it won't be so pretty. maybe he will crush the harbor while he's at it. but his thoughts are interrupted by your movements..where are you going?

"dandelion, where is it that you're going?" he puts a playful infliction on his tone to ease the jealous feelings he's having. he too gets up and dusts his outfit off.

"i'm going to stay with mona for a bit while i'm back, and see if she can help me at all with a few commissions zhongli gave me. i also need to return a few books to lisa that i got from people in liyue. i think she'll appreciate it." so, so sweet you are. always doing things with other people in mind. don't you ever want to be selfish? oh well, no matter if you do or not, venti is selfish enough for the both of you. and more.

"ah, well be safe my dandelion." venti made sure to put extra emphasis on the my. maybe the wind will carry this conversation to zhongli..maybe.

in the following days, venti was conveniently wherever you were, enjoying you being around. but when he began to see you packing your things in mona's house he knew where you were going, liyue. ugh it left such a bitter taste in his mouth. that harbor, those mountains, and specifically that man.

"ah! is it time for you to go yet again my dandelion? oh how i will miss you, may the wind lead." were the last words you spoke to venti before setting off to liyue, where you were going to meet zhongli with this new information.

liyue harbor was bustling yet again, as you arrived right before the sun set, and headed straight for the teahouse. you were a little late for your meeting with the former archon. a hot cup of tea still waiting for you with zhongli watching over you as you approach.

"hello dear, how was your journey here? safe i presume?" zhongli knew who was watching over you, he knew about the deal between venti and xiao, he was an informed man after all.

"it was good, venti made sure to see me off!" you smiled and the atmosphere feels light. watching zhongli pick up his tea cup and sigh as you sit down.

"he is..quite the doting archon, isn't he?" the tea tastes more bitter when he has to talk about venti, he can't get enough of this alone time with you. even if it is just to piss venti off, he can see your appeal and why the anemo archon is so obsessed. you're pretty, young, adventurous and smart.

"yeah, although he tends to say some strange things, that seems to be a trend with archons." you laugh, zhongli nodding knowingly. zhongli did in fact, know what that bard had said about him.

"you are correct. and maybe he isn't wrong in what he said to you, whatever it may be, but do be aware that not everyone is who they seem to be." zhongli states in a cool, unwavering tone. careful to plant a seed of doubt in your mind the same way venti had.

zhongli might seem like a simple man, and he is, but he does enjoy playing mind games with a rival. and you better believe that this has lit a fire under venti, both of them trying to outdo the other. maybe one of them will get you to solely reside in their nation, their care. but only time will tell.

[iniziare]

✵ blade for kafka ofc ;)

Prompt: Send ✵ and my muse will answer // @daybreakrising

Their first impression of your muse: I firmly believe that there was an element of empathy, one for an equal. And the reason I say this, is because of what always stuck out to me with these two 'meeting' for the first time: the fact that she didn't just stick to trying to calm him down with her Spirit Whisper in a more general sense (which she does twice), but she later on and not immediately, targets his mara directly when she says "Listen, don't think about anything at all." That to me, is the first time that she speaks to 'the monster inside' (as thoughts and memories are actively and intricately tied to the resurgence of the mara), without, I don't think, particularly needing to do so as of yet. Nothing seems to inherently indicate that Blade was violent in that moment or on the verge of madness (it seems as though the mara was at bay still as he just woke up), so I think that this is a sign of Kafka's own choice towards him. It's one of soothing, it's one that gives him peace— which isn't a thing done for one you don't have a semblance of 'I feel bad for', towards. But it's not just that, either. It's the fact that she uses words like 'I don't want to' before she tries to still him, the fact that she walks to his side afterwards and not in front of him, and the fact that he bears witness, on some level, to an authentic moment of herself, despite being a very controlled individual. The fact that all occurred around Blade, tells me that one of her first impressions of him was of a man who'd suffered, and suffered still, and she offered him peace. Ergo, empathy.

Current impression: I spoke of trust and faith in terms of Elio, but there is one person that defies those levels, and that's Blade. They've been side by side for much too long for that to be anything less or even anything different, and this is a hill I will quite frankly die on, revive, only to die on it again. And all I need to prove my point (I know that you know what I'll link to), is this moment, even if that's far from the only one. Kafka may lack fear, but she is not a reckless woman, nor does she lack any level of intelligence, she wouldn't throw herself off anything if she didn't know whether she would live. In this scene, Kafka lets herself fall off the side of the building, because she knows someone will catch her. Because she knows Blade will catch her, because guess who can't die? Blade. And the reason this is most evident to me, is because she spreads her arms as to catch the most wind so her fall is slowed, so that he has time to dive (as we see him do), breaking through the air as to reach her. Kafka knows that he'll succeed, and that is rooted in an incredibly deep sense of trust, I'd go as far as to say it's unparalleled, and I think that speaks magnitudes to the level of understanding that they have. Outside of that, at some point, Blade became more than just her partner in work, Blade became a partner in... life, in all aspects of it, to a point where any endeavor without him feels ill-fitting.

Are they attracted to your muse? Yes, and I don't just think in our little belief system, either. I think that Blade plays perfectly into what draws a woman like Kafka in (madness aside for a moment), through sheer disposition and physicality. But I think that's not really surprising or much of a revelation. But that attraction could just exist without getting enriched by any level of longing or affection. But, well, that line definitely got crossed, so I can add a bit more to this: but yes she is. There are numerous traits that she gets to see in ways that others don't, such as his dominance, that all-encompassing nature rooted in passion of Yingxing (do I remember correctly?) that seems to persist avidly in Blade when caught within that infinitely more intimate dynamic, the manners, the restraint that is so difficult to keep lodged within the palm of a hand, and so it's just little touches— all of these things play into such attraction. She is like a moth drawn to a flame that never burns her, but serves to warm her each time that she draws near; he's almost addicting and yet he's not an addiction. Also yes, I fully realize I went entirely off-topic but she took the reigns and absolutely went with it, I don't cross her.

Something they find frightening about your muse: I don't need to elaborate on how 'frightening' isn't quite fitting, but something she actively looks at with anguish in some way? His goal within the Stellaron Hunters: his wish to die, to find peace. It's something that she's... I don't know if 'come to understand' is quite fitting, but she hears it, she knows it, she'll stroke her fingers through his hair in the morning, knowing that she might not be able to do it until the end of her days. That's what she anticipates, as much as she's... able to anticipate such a thing.

Something they find adorable about your muse: The way he seems to humor her in all things mundane and seemingly trivial. The way he'll try sweets that she'll bring or would have asked SW to bring back for her from Penacony or wherever else, the way he might join her to the cinema and watch a film that might even be so corny, that his eyes could roll all the way back into his skull. Just, the fact he seems to do things because she asks him to; don't think she doesn't notice, Bladie.

Would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours? Correct me if wrong, but I think he wouldn't allow her to in his current state. And to be fair, I also don't think she, practically, would as things stand now. Not because she wouldn't want to, but because it would be stupid to, for her death would be permanent while his wouldn't be. But if the tides were even? Yes, she would.

Would my muse go on a date with yours (platonic/romantic)? She already has, and on multiple occasions (both platonically and romantically). Although, the latter only as of much more recently— even if maybe on a rare occasion, a past platonic outing might have touched on something a little more intimate.

One word my muse would use to describe yours: All-encompassing.

Would my muse slap yours if they could? A lady who harbors some level of romantic feelings for a man would absolutely never do such a thing.

Would my muse hug/kiss yours? Yes to both, but especially the latter. But when it comes to the former, it's not really much of her thing, and it's really mostly in a receptive manner. With which I mean she enjoys the lingering sort of 'embrace', whether it's an arm around her while walking, or an arm around her in the morning, but she's not exactly one to wrap her arms around his neck if he were to lean down and embrace her, not even during a kiss. It's not a lack of interest in physical intimacy of any kind, not at all, it's just not her... style.

[n41r]

A sudden afternoon thought hit me yesterday and just sticks with me after reading two small comics that gives me a bit of context of things, it's just a silly theory of mine that went on in circles and long descriptions. What if with whatever happened to Raisiya in new Chapter 7 brings in Star Warrior Light (at least from what I can understand by hearing his dialogue on JP gameplays) then prompts the time dragon and the purple cloaked prophet to intervine from making a different outcome, like essentially making an endless time loop with small variety of outcomes of different interactions and probably more? This got to me when I was listening to three different Raisiya's themes. The first goes on at a normal pace with intrumentals, most likely wind instruments yet continues on with different volunes without letting down the tempo. The seocnd goes on a bit slower but the wind instruments is changed to chorus, probably with the purple eye in his design. The third one felt like there's no more restraint left on the melody, going all in with adrenaline and full on rock. It's like as if he's urging for an outcome to happen and there's no more holding back the strongest abilities either side has to be, probably with how Light has a dialogue with him when facing against Raisiya. Then whatever Light wanted to accomplish in Raisiya's stead prompted both the time dragon and the purple cloaked prophet to intervine and prevent the future from changing... at least I think? Yep, I'm still drawing blanks on many things about Oreca lore so it's entirely my guess with many nudges from watching and reading JP contents.

As for my ask on this, are there any other interpertations of the players aka as Battlers/Master/Summoner in Oreca Battle? I like what you came up with and I still hadn't realized that until now, with how there's some fusions are limited as far as I know of. Hope it's okay and sorry for the long ramble there! Also is it okay if I reblog some of your posts?

Sorry the answer took awhile! I rarely touch the lore on the New Chapter series, so I needed time to read up some stuff from the wiki first and opening my twitter's bookmark for the other answer-

I read up on the JP fanwiki that the reason why Light appeared was because of Raisiya (thought it's unclear to me what the reason was-), it probably have something to do with what Raisiya knew about the future? There was also some mention about wanting to change the future, and that reason might be the reason why the time dragons and the Prophet Sybil shows up as well

An interesting take, tho! Thank you for sharing the bits of lore that you found out!

Oreca Battle OSTs, huh? I rarely touch them as well actually, I kind of afraid I will get too emotional listening to them- There is this one time I cried listening to Dia's theme song, I'm still unsure why I cried tbh-

And to answer your questions, I'm not really sure why, but I rarely see mention or interpretation of human battler at the JP community One of my interpretation was actually inspired by my mutual's tweets, but it looks like I didn't bookmark the very tweet that inspires me- But here are some tweets from my mutual from twitter, nefer_ty that also inspires me (I hope Nefer-san is okay with me sharing some of their tweets outside of twitter-) (1) (2) (3)

There is also this one cool Oreca Battle artist who makes some fancomic of their original Oreca Battlers, and they are amazing! I don't know if it counts as the kind of interpretation you're looking for, but I'm including their Pixiv link as well (x)

Also, please feel free to reblog my posts! I'm only keeping my self-insert stuff as un-reblog-able, but the other posts should be okay In fact, I'll be elated if you reblogged them, so please feel free to do so! ヾ(｡･ω･)ﾉ☆ﾟ

[rinskiroo]

The Spaces Between: Port Nowhere

At least on Port Nowhere he could ditch the disguise and get a decent haircut and shave.  He paid his tab at the barber and slipped his red jacket back on and headed back out onto the main concourse.

The madame of this haven of criminals had built herself a small empire on the once dilapidated station.  Not only had it become a hub of shipping illegal goods, information brokering, and money laundering, it had grown into its own little pirate town complete with restaurants, a school, holo-game arcade, and a few elected officials to keep the place running smoothly (and maintain at least the veneer of legality).  There were, of course, all the things less-than-reputable types preferred as well: cantinas, gambling halls, and a brothel.

“Theron Shan, I knew it was only a matter of time before you darkened my door.”

He had been sitting alone, nursing a scotch and enjoying the view, before a supple figure with a smooth drawl took up residence in his lap.

“Captain, you’re looking as colorful as ever,”  Theron said.  She had long multi-colored locks, twisting and curling together into intricate designs and flowing clothing of rich fabrics that left little to the imagination.  Even draped in the fancy cloth, he could still feel the outline of the blaster strapped to her thigh.  “I hear it’s Mrs. Riggs now, though.”

“Surprise, surprise, SIS information is wrong.  Baby boy took my name, sugar,”  she said as her full lips curled into a smirk.  Her fingers ran through his now short hair and then along his cheek and jaw.  “You see Ryaamis for this?  He does good work.”

Theron grinned and nodded.  “Best shave I’ve had in months.”

“Mmhmm.”  She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss just to the corner of his lips before moving from his lap and sitting in the chair across from him.  With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a half-dressed young man with a plate and a waiting drink.  Everything that surrounded her was an over-the-top display of her wealth that even oligarchs and nobles would cringe at.  “Little bird told me you’ve gone off the deep end.  Seeing conspiracies everywhere.  Think even the Republic brass have been infiltrated by a thousand-year-old ghost.”

“Only about three-fifty or so.  Still a young guy.”

Te’Jal Starfire might have played dumb, acted hard of hearing, pretended not to know a rancor from a lothcat, but Theron knew it was (mostly) an act.  If the way the once lousy smuggler seemed to manage her riches well enough to afford her excessive eccentricities was any indication, she was a hell of a lot smarter than most gave her credit for.  It had made her a valuable asset to the Republic, as well as a thorn in their side.  Since setting up her own town however, she’d stayed out of galactic politics.

“Why are you here, Theron?  I’d like to think it’s to see me, but the way you’re swirling that drink and staring at the stars like a sad puppy—someone break your heart, sugar?”

Theron chuckled and stared down at his drink before pushing it away.  “No, nothing like that.  You know me, I torpedoed it before it even had a chance to start.”

“Typical.”  She smiled again and took a long drink from her glass.  “You should meet my sister.  She’s coming in later—I think you’d like her.  She’s like you, her own made-up moral code that gets her into trouble with her superiors.  Fun, too, once you get a few drinks in her.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”  It seemed the SIS files were indeed lacking, or perhaps she’d manged to have some of them purged.  He wouldn’t put it past her.

“Lot you don’t know about me, spy-boy.”  She gave him a wink before finishing her drink.

Theron polished off his as well before he got to the real reason he’d made the trip out to the pirate station.  If she didn’t like his request, there was a good chance he’d be booted out the nearest airlock.  “I actually want to talk to your brother.”

Te’Jal’s face went from the light, flirtatious glances to a frown and a glare.  “He doesn’t take requests.  ‘Specially not from SIS.  Not after what y’all did to him.  What?  You think I don’t know about that?”

“I wasn’t on that op, TJ.  I wouldn’t have let it go down like that.”

“You think that makes it any better?”  Her words were harsh and sharp.  Even though she was the younger sister, she had a protective streak a kilometer wide for anyone in her family, blood or found.  Plenty of unfortunate people had learned that the hard way.

Theron sighed.  “I can pay.”

She softened slightly at the promise of credits.  “Tell you what, spy-boy.  You make my sister laugh, I’ll give you a lead—a small lead.”

“Really?”  It was an utterance of disbelief and not gratitude.  Though he should have expected that sort of unconventional trade from her.

“You know how favors work around here, sugar.”  The sultry smile returned as she stood up and sauntered up behind him.  Her arms draped over his shoulders and she planted another kiss on him, this time just below his ear.  “You gotta give some to get some.”

“I know it’s Port Nowhere, but let’s make sure to get all our supplies on board before we’re too drunk to remember that this is only a layover.  Two days, max.”  Jas looked each of her crew in the eyes as she gave her responsibility speech.  Not that she would blame them if they slipped and let off some steam before all the tasks were done.  All she wanted to do was slide into one of the hot baths.  They’d been cramped on the Defender for months, zipping from crisis to crisis—nothing too strenuous, but they’d all gotten a bit claustrophobic in the confined space.

“I got those massage appointments for tomorrow morning,”  she called after Kira as the crew dispersed.  “Don’t sleep in.”

“You better be there, Master, or I’m taking both for myself.  Back to back. With that cute Mirialan.”

Jas grinned and shook her head as she trotted down the ramp off the ship.  It was only two days, but she was going to cram in as much relaxation and down-time as possible.  Scourge was the only one not enthusiastic about their pit-stop, but Jas had promised to carve out some time where they could do some meditation and discuss more about Revan.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you!”  the shorter human with the colorful hair wrapped her arms around Jas and squeezed her fiercely.  “I missed you!”

Jas returned the affectionate embrace and kissed her on the cheek.  “You as well.  How’s Corso?  And Guss?”

“Corso’s good—out overseeing some merchandise right now.  Guss is, you know, Guss.”

“You’ll tell him I stopped by?  And that the invitation is still open?”

Te’Jal shrugged her shoulders with a bit of a wince.  “I’ll let him know.”

Jas liked Te’Jal’s Mon Calamari friend.  Guss had once been a Jedi Padawan, not a very good one, but Jas was never one to give up on people.  He was a snarky swindler, but at least now he was using his gifts with the Force to assist the people of Port Nowhere.  Despite its illegal dealings, they often leaned towards assisting the Republic when necessary.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”  Te’Jal grabbed Jas’ arm and pulled her further into the cantina—the most crowded of the several on the station.

Jas tried to resist, tried to tell her friend she really wasn’t in the mood for loud conversation and the bottomless glasses.  Te’Jal had a way of making people feel guilty.  It was like her super power to convince people to do what she wanted.  That, and making them think it was their idea.

“This is what my sort of people call networking, Jedi.”

“In a brothel?”

“Sometimes, the less clothing, the better deal you can make.”  She shot her back a knowing wink and continued pulling her hand further through the crowd.  They all parted for Te’Jal like she was a queen—and she was, to them.  Even if Jas disliked many of her methods, she was proud of her old friend.  Te’Jal pulled her up to the semi-private lounge that overlooked the dancing men and women and the bustle below, right into the ambush.

“There he is—I want to introduce you to my good friend, Theron Shan.”

The grin of being with an old friend and the giddy mood of the station fell away, replaced by the stoic mask of the Jedi Knight she was supposed to be.  Quietly, she wondered if he had followed her out here, or if the Force found it amusing to intertwine their paths so frequently.  There would be no reason for him to follow her, unless there was new information—

“Theron, this is my sister that I was telling you about.  Jasati, Jedi Master, Knight of the Republic, Hero of Tython, etcetera, etcetera.”

“What?  I don’t get introduced by all my titles?  I’m hurt, Captain.”  He held out his hand towards her and for a moment, she just stared at it.

“Oh, right, you’re a spy.  Theron Shan and I have met, TJ.”  It had taken her a second to figure out why he was pretending he didn’t know her—that they hadn’t attacked Korriban and saved Tython together.  And had once had a lovely walk around Carrick Station together that she still thought about even after he had been a huge ass on Manaan.  And then again on Oseon.  “Did you set this up?”

“Me?”  Theron looked surprised at the suggestion.  His hand dropped awkwardly back to his side.  “I was just here chasing a lead.  I didn’t know you two were—how does that even work?”

“In the non-incestuous meaning of the word, sugar.  Now, you two enjoy some drinks and the view.  Our deal still stands, spy-boy.”

Jas had her hand over her face.  This was not how she was expecting this evening to go.  “Wait, what deal?”

“Can’t I just pay you for the information?”

“What information?”

Like the whirlwind she was, Te’Jal was gone—flitted off to schmooze some other patrons and left Theron and Jas with orders to enjoy a bottle of wine and “live a little.”  Theron poured a couple of glasses and offered her one.  She took it, but they sat in silence for several minutes.  Jas leaned over the railing and watched the beings below while Theron lounged on one of the plush chairs.  He figured they’d sit up here for an eternity of thirty or so minutes and then he’d have to come up with something else to offer the Queen of Port Nowhere in exchange for a conversation with the former Imperial spy.

He took a sip of his wine.  Might as well enjoy the view.

Theron had first read her file when a young Jedi saved the Temple on Tython from an unhinged former Padawan.  He had unintentionally followed her career—from super weapon to super weapon, thwarting gangs and Sith, saving those that had fallen by the wayside.  He had approached her once, on Nar Shaddaa, and he always wondered if she remembered, but never asked.  She was softer then, he thought as he looked at her now.  No longer nearly as wide-eyed and there were lines starting to form on her face, though none of it detracted from her beauty.  It served as a reminder that there was wisdom and strength in that pretty blue package.

“What titles?”  she asked, pulling him from his thoughts, and his staring.

“Hm?”

“Titles that Te’Jal neglected to list when she ‘introduced’ us.”

“I was voted ‘Most Likely to Accidentally Set Himself on Fire’ back at the Academy.”

She turned around to face him fully, her eyes squinting in confusion at him.  “I don’t believe that’s a real thing.”

“After meeting your Padawan, I really thought sarcasm would be something in your toolbox.  Or at least, a language you understood.”

She glanced down at the drink in her hands and then back up.  Her shoulders shrugged slightly as she walked towards him and settled onto the ottoman in front of him.  “I tend to believe people when they tell me things, Agent Shan.  Especially things about themselves.”

“I’ve heard the Force is a useful lie detector.”

She was giving him that judgmental Jedi look—the way she stared at him with those unblinking violet eyes and her patient, even breathing.  “It’s called trust, Theron.”

Ouch.  He was pretty sure he needed to go find a medkit for that burn.  He wondered how much of his pride it would cost him to just apologize.  He should have realized she never would have outright killed people, even freakish experiments, who couldn’t defend themselves.  With as much as he had followed her escapades, he knew she often chose to offer mercy to her enemies.

“I’m sorry.”  And he meant it.  He let down those walls just enough so she would know.  He was truly contrite.

Jas blinked and shifted slightly in her seat.  “For what exactly?  Because you said—”

“I would do almost anything to keep the Republic ahead in the arms race with the Empire, but I shouldn’t have put it on you.  And I shouldn’t have snapped at you in the middle of a mission.”

“And Oseon?”

Theron ducked his head and laughed lightly.  “Yeah, that, too.  Being in hiding always puts me in a bad mood.”

He felt a clink against his wine glass as she pressed hers against it.  “I should also apologize for being so annoyed with you.”

“Nah, I deserved it.”  He grinned as he looked back up at her.  “Here’s to everyone makes mistakes.  Even Jedi.”

“Rogue SIS agents especially.”

“That’s the truth,”  Theron agreed as they both took drinks from their glasses.

“So what’s this information you’re trying to get?”

“The Captain knows someone who might have some information from inside the Empire—maybe even some Revanite contacts.”

“Okay, and what does she want?”

“You to laugh.”

Jas paused, the glass just millimeters away from her lips as she went for another sip.  “What?  Why?”

His shoulders shrugged.  “Have you been down lately?”

She looked almost uncomfortable at the question.  “No, I’m fine.

It wasn’t very convincing.  Theron discovered what a terrible liar she was.  He wanted to reach out and grab her hand, the way he had on Carrick Station.  Find another terrible pretense to wrap his fingers around hers and drag her around on another long, meandering, totally pointless walk.  But he had been reminded, quite readily, that she was a Jedi, and that she took it quite seriously.  No matter what his gut told him about how close she had walked next to him, or how she had squeezed his hand back.  Maybe it had been in his head the way she’d looked at him after Tython.

“Tell me your best joke,”  she said, again pulling him from his wandering thoughts.

“A joke?”

“You’re supposed to make me laugh.  Go on.”

“O…kay…  Where do spies sleep?”

“I don’t know, Agent Shan.  Where do they sleep?”

“Undercover.”

She groaned and shook her head.  “That’s terrible.”

“I know.  Oh, how about this: How do you get down from a bantha?”

She had an amused grin on her face as she shrugged her shoulders.

“You don’t, you get it from a goose.”

“That’s—jokes are supposed to be funny.”

“It is funny!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

A small snort escaped her and she covered her face to try and stop the laughter she was trying to hold back.  “Because it’s so bad!”

[AO3] [Masterlist]

[cloudninetonine]

ok here me out. chain learns about modern music like pop, rock, and edm

THIS ASK REMINDS ME!

@obsessed-with-a-fictional-man HERE'S THE LIST I PROMISED!

Okay so, Player pulls out their phone which prompts the group the ask questions, which leads to an explanation about the device and then it somehow goes to Spotify.

Undercut because it got super long

Time

He's kinda impressed, but he's not gonna show it

Questions the song list and how it jumps so much

Made a face when Player accidentally played CPR

Probably likes Soft rock or Dad music (You know the ones)

Favourite bands/musicians: Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, Queen (He's such a fucking dad-)

Twilight

Also very impressed, does show it because he doesn't see the point in hiding it

Not bothered by how the genre jumps, thinks it's kinda nice that the Player isn't super picky

Also made a face when CPR come on

Because everyone calls him an Emo Cowboy I think you can guess the genre I'd put him with. (Also lowkey likes the weird mashups)

Favourite bands/musicians: Dolly Parton, Twenty One Pilots, My Chemical Romance

Warriors

Probably makes a comment about how he could have used one of these (a phone) during his war days to play music for the other soldiers to make them feel better

Also doesn't mind the genre-jumping but does question some of the songs

Probably snorted when CPR came on but when stone-faced pretty quickly when Time sent him a look

For genre, I think Rock in general? I can't exactly pinpoint it for him, maybe some EDM (But does secretly listen to love/break up songs because he's dramatic)

Favourite bands/musicians: Arctic Monkeys, AC/DC, Guns N' Roses and his special mention being Bruno Mars (Adele, Sam Smith, Taylor Swift no you can't change my mind)

Four

Thinks it's very practical and he would love to have one (When the colours get too much he could just plug in earphones and block them out)

Loves that the genre jumps, all the colours love listening to the different tunes

Was kinda amused by CPR but mostly disgusted

There's no way to pinpoint a genre for him, it jumps too much, sometimes he'll like one song sometimes he won't. The colours tho, Blue likes Rap (I'm sorry) and Rock, Red likes softer like Indie, Vio I think Jazz and Green would be Folk

Favourite bands/musicians: A little difficult to answer once again but Blue, maybe Rare Americans (You guys should check them out they're awesome) Red I'd see Florence + the Machine, Vio, Ray Charles or Louis Armstrong and Green Don Mclean

Wind

This boy thinks it's the best! Any kind of music that you love just at the click of a button!? He'd love one! (He would probably want to give one to his Gran as well)

Doesn't mind the genre-jumping either

Laughed when CPR came on, stopped when Time sent him a look

He like Sea Shanties (Duh) but maybe electronic? EDM? I think it matches his energy

Favourite bands/musicians: I don't know any for sea shanties but Mystery Skulls (Also another great one), Gorillaz and Avicii

Wild

He loves it! Likes to listen to music while he cooks! (Though it can make him lose focus sometimes so not all the time)

Also likes the genre-jumping!

Was a mix of disgust, confusion and amusement when CPR came on and did kinda smirk

Doesn't have a favourite genre they're all too interesting! But he does have his favourite songs

Favourite bands/musicians: Avicii, Glass Animals and IDK How

Legend

Isn't impressed, just comments how it's an advanced music box (He is actually impressed but he's not telling Player that-)

Doesn't like the genre-jumping, wish the Player would just stick to one tune (But he did like experimenting with the different music)

Just disgusted by CPR because why would someone sing something like that????

Favourite genres would probably be Alternative, Indie and a Classical music

Favourite bands/musicians: Lemon Demon, Mother Mother and Beethoven

Hyrule

Very impressed listens intently when Player is explaining about different genres and wants to listen to everything they have in their playlist

Doesn't mind the genre-jumping but he has his likes and dislikes! Probably tells Player to play what they want though

Felt the second-hand embarrassment from CPR playing and a bit of disgust

His genre list is kinda similar to Legend's but also Green's, so Indie, Classical and Folk

Favourite bands/musicians: Tally Hall, Cavetown, Glass Animals and Don Mclean

Sky

Loves it as well! Thinks it's amazing that you can basically carry your favourite song in your pocket and play it any time you want!

One person who doesn't mind the genre-jumping because he can see what he likes!

Also, another person to feel second-hand embarrassment and disgust

Another person who doesn't have a fit genre! If he likes the tune he likes it!

Favourite bands/musicians: Bruno Mars (The love songs specifically), Jack Stauber and The Orion Experience (ONE OF THE BEST BANDS EVER-)

THERE DONE! If you guys have any suggestions or maybe don't agree and have your own opinions, just put it in the comments for me to see! I know not everyone would agree but I think it's quite accurate!

[miserablecreachur]

writing prompt, hope you don't mind the odd pairing but I really loved their match! danielson x nick jackson, nsfw or sfw your choice!

ooooooh Anon I never mind an odd pairing! (as long as I feel like I can do them justice of course). I love Nick so much, so I hope you enjoy the little bit my brain came up with for this! (cut for smut-adjacent shenanigans)

---

Nick is a high flier. They used to call them spot monkeys, him and his brother, because they could do anything on the ropes. Nick especially. Bryan is a technical wrestler, a mat wrestler, a real challenge. He doesn't delude himself, that he's going to take Danielson to the limit like Kenny did. But maybe he can soften him up. Just enough. Just so next time, Kenny can really cream him.

Almost twenty minutes in, Nick is forced to tap. Danielson puts him in hold after hold, punishing him in ways he just isn't used to. It's not that he's soft, no, it's more like he's used to solving his problems with a few superkicks and the superelite to back him up. But Bryan takes his kicks, both super and regular, and in the end he finds himself in the cattle mutilation, tapping out to save his shoulders from destruction.

After, Nick licks his wounds and listens to Matt wind himself up, cursing something fierce and generally having one of his moments. After a bit, he entrusts Brandon to take his brother back to the hotel, telling the two of them that he wants some time alone. "Might get Doc Samson to look at my shoulders."

"Are you hurt?" Matt is instantly looking him over concern creasing between his big brown eyes.

Shaking his head, Nick waves him off. "Nah. Just want to make sure, you know? No need for you guys to stick around. I'll catch an uber and call you in the morning."

It looks like Matt's going to be disagreeable, but it's late and the siren song of a nice hotel bed wins out in the end. He and Brandon take their leave, and Nick watches them go, sitting quietly for a few moments before angrily whipping the water bottle he'd been working on across the room.

He's not mad, not really. Just he hates to tap, it's embarrassing, and to do it to a smug bastard like Danielson-

Well. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The door of his room opens, and Nick looks up, expecting Matt to have forgotten something. But it's Bryan standing there, in his trunks and a plain white shirt. Nick is wary, eyeing the other man up, but Bryan is grinning. Nick tilts his head at him, running a hand through his long hair before rolling his eyes.

"You need something?"

"Didn't know you could hang like that. Especially not on your own. You know, if you wanted-"

"I like tagging with my brother." Everyone's always saying stuff like that. Talking about how Nick could have a singles career, if he wanted one.

Bryan holds up his hands, shrugging and smiling and saying 'your call' with his whole body... but not his eyes. No, his eyes are bright and focused and twinkling. Like Santa, if he was sadistic and into wearing wrestling trunks. For some reason, this annoys Nick. Much more than it should.

"It's bullshit that you come out of the babyface tunnel." Nick is crossing his arms and leaning back against the cinder block wall, watching the amusement play all over Bryan's face. Stupid jolly fuck.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. How long are you gonna keep up that ruse?"

"Long as I feel like it fits. Works when I'm kicking the heads of the elite in, doesn't it?"

Nick snorts, and watches Bryan take a few careful steps forwards. "Yeah, I guess. So what do you want?"

"Wanted to give you something."

It's obvious that Danielson has nothing physically tangible on him, so Nick cocks an eyebrow and readies himself for a verbal warning or something equally stupid, but what happens is Bryan closes the distance between them fully and pulls him into a kiss. The other man's hand lands on the back of his neck, and his free hand slaps against the wall, and he kisses Nick like the pressure of his lips is gonna make him tap like he did in the ring.

It doesn't.

At first, Nick does hesitate. He wasn't expecting it, so he freezes a little. But Bryan works his mouth, and takes a firm grip on the back of his neck, so after a few moments Nick is relaxing into the kiss, reaching one hand up to hold Bryan's still taped-up wrist. It's then that he's ready to fight back - to battle to hold his own ground in the kiss. He ends up biting Bryan's bottom lip - hard - and then flicking his tongue over the skin after... A little move that has the other wrestler moaning appreciatively.

"Like that?" Nick isn't one hundred percent on what he's asking, but Danielson doesn't really seem to care, because almost immediately his other hand drops to his shoulder, pushing him back against the wall. The next kiss is as rough and greedy as the first one was, and Nick is definitely into it.

Danielson uses one of his knees to nudge Nick's legs more widely apart, and Nick can't help but wonder if the other man realizes that a locker room bench is a stupid place to try and do this.

He squeezes Danielson's wrist twice, and then puts both hands on the other man's hips, pushing him back a little so he doesn't try to climb all over him on the narrow bench. Bryan is breathing steady but heavy when he's pushed back, and his pupils are so big it's almost like Nick can forget his eyes are an ice cold blue.

"Hotel?" Bryan is the one who puts it out there, and Nick nods.

"Room five-oh-two."

"You're not bunking with your brother, are you?"

For a moment Nick tenses. This happens sometimes. They want him as a way to get to Matt, or see them as a paired item.

"No." There's more venom in his voice than there needs to be, but Danielson isn't phased. He just smiles again, that wide shark smile with too many teeth.

"Good. I want you, Nick. Want you alone, for all the things I want to do to you."

That takes him aback, a little bit. Nick knows he might have the singles career (if he wants it), but it's Matt that tops the heartthrob list more often than him. Apparently it's one thing to kiss the American Dragon, but another to hear that he's the object of his desire.

"That okay?"

It's then that he realizes he's been quiet for a little too long, and Nick shakes himself out of it, nodding up at the other man.

"That's perfect."

---

short aew fic request

AO3 collection

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 6

(Y/n)'s POV

Once I get over the fact that my brother's Latin teacher was half horse, we have a nice tour.

We pass by the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudge each other. One points to the Minotaur horn Percy is carrying. Another says, "It's them."

Most of the campers are older than me. Their satyr friends are bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. I'm not normally shy, but the way they are staring at me and Percy makes me uncomfortable. I feel as though they want us to do a flip or something.

I look back at the farmhouse. It's bigger than I'd realized - four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I'm checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something catches my eyes, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I get a distinct impression that I'm being watched.

"What's up there?" I ask Chiron.

He looks to where I'm pointing and his smile fades, "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?" Percy asks.

"No," he says with finality. "Not a single living thing."

I get the feeling that he's being truthful, but I am also sure something had moved that curtain.

As we get closer, I realize how huge the forest is. It takes up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron says, "The woods are stocked if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" Percy asks. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own swords and shields?"

"My own - ?" Percy is cut off.

"No," Chiron interupts. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do for you, Percy, and a size three for you, (Y/n). I'll visit the armory later."

Finally, Chiron shows us the cabins. There are twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They are arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on each side. And they are, without a doubt the most bizarre number above the door.

Except for the fact that each has a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they lock absolutely nothing alike. Number Nine has smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number Four has tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seems to be made of solid gold, which gleams so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all face a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field is a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it is a warm afternoon, the hearth smolders. A girl, maybe nine years old is tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. I wave at the girl and she looks surprised, as though no one acknowledged her often, and waves back with a smile.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, look like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin One is the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmer like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seem to streak across them. Cabin Two is more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls are covered with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" Percy guesses.

"Correct," Chiron says.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

I stop in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It isn't high and mighty like Cabin One, but low and solid. The outer walls are of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashells and coral as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. I peek inside the open doorway and Chiron says, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he can pull me back, I catch the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glow like abalone. There are six empty bunks with silk sheets turned down, but there is no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place feels so sad and lonely, I am glad when Chiron puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Come along, (Y/n)."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on Percy and gives him an evil sneer.

"Oh, look," Chiron says as we approach Cabin Eleven. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House is reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven. When we reach her, she looks me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drool.

I try to see what she was reading, but I can't make out the title. Then I realize the title isn't even English. The letters look Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There are pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Annabeth," Chiron says, "I have Masters' Archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and (Y/n) from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin Eleven," Chiron tells us, gesturing towards the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, Eleven looks the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. the threshold is worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway is a caduceus.

Inside, it is packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags are spread all over the floor. It looks like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron doesn't go in. The door is too low for him. But when the campers see him, they all stand and bow respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron says. "Good luck, Percy, (Y/n). I'll see the two of you at dinner."

He gallops away towards the archery range.

Percy's POV

We stand in the doorway, looking at the kids. They aren't bowing anymore. They are staring at us, sizing us up. I know this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Annabeth prompts. "Go on."

So naturally, I trip coming in the door, and (Y/n) grabs my upper arm, straightening me up. There are some snickers from the campers, but none of them say anything.

Annabeth announces, "Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asks.

I don't know what to say, but Annabeth says, "Undetermined."

Everyone groans.

A guy who is a little older than the rest comes forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy, (Y/n). You can have those two spots on the floor, right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and he looks pretty cool. He's tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wears an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance is a thick white scar that runs from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

"This is Luke," Annabeth says, and her voice sounds different somehow. I glance over and swear she's blushing, but after a moment she sees me looking, and her expression hardens again. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" (Y/n) asks, looking rather curious.

"You're undetermined," Luke explains. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I look around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they are waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will I be here?" I ask.

"Good question," Luke replies. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laugh and (Y/n) facepalms.

"Come on," Annabeth tells us. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"We've already seen it."

"Come on."

Annabeth grabs my wrist and drags me outside. I can hear the kids of Cabin Eleven laughing behind me and (Y/n) waves good-bye shyly.

When we are a few feet away, Annabeth says, "Jackson, you have to do better than that?"

"What?"

She rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you two were the ones."

"What's your problem?" I'm getting angry now, (Y/n) watching us cautiously. "All I know is, we kill some bull guy -"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth tells me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

I shake my head. "Look, if the thing we fought is really the Minotaur, the same one in the stories . . ."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So..."

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"Percy," (Y/n) says calmly. "I think what Annabeth is saying, is that monsters eventually reform."

Annabeth nods and I think about Mrs. Dodds. "You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword—"

"The Fur...I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep," Annabeth answers and (Y/n) suppresses a laugh.

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

Annabeth glances nervously at the ground as if she expects it to open up and swallow her. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" I sound whiny, even to myself, but right then I don't care. "Why do we have to stay in Cabin Eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

I point to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turns pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or...your parent."

She stares at me, waiting for me to get it.

"Our mother is Sally Jackson," (Y/n) says softly. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, (Y/n). But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."

"He's dead," I say simply. "We never knew him."

Annabeth sighs. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say -"

"Because I know the two of you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about us.

"No?" She raises an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How -"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

I try to swallow my embarrassment. "What does that have to do with anything?"

(Y/n)'s POV

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course, the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like...you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar."

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're both half-bloods."

A half-blood.

I am reeling with so many questions I don't know where to start.

Then a husky voice yells, "Well! Two newbies!"

I look over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin is sauntering towards us. She has three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean-looking like her, all wearing camo jackets.

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighs. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl says. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

"Erre es korakas!" Annabeth says, which I somehow understand is Greek for 'Go to the crows!' though I have a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounds. "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse says, but her eye twitches. Perhaps she isn't so sure she can follow through on ht threat. She turns towards me, then she looks at Percy. "Who are these's runts?"

"Percy and (Y/n) Jackson," Annabeth says, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Aries."

Percy blinks. "Like . . . the war god?"

Clarisse sneers. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," Percy says, seemingly recovering his 'wits'. "It explains the bad smell."

Long story short, Percy made the toilets explode.

Yeah, I said it. He made the toilets explode . . .

Word Count: 2455 words

[halstudandruz]

One Beer

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Based off of One Beer by Hardy ft. Lauren Alaina & Devin Dawson

Warnings: Teen pregnancy, swearing

A/N: This is my first song based imagine so don’t hate me if it’s bad, this song is a jam though

17 in a small town

Weak knees in a CVS

Door locked in the bathroom

What's it gonna be waitin' on that test?

This wasn’t happening. You kept repeating that in your head as you sat on the toilet in the dirty bathroom of the nearest CVS, head in your hands. You were just stressed. Tomorrow was your 18th birthday and you were heading to college soon and life was changing too fast. So, it made sense to be stressed right? That’s why your period was late. It had to be, and you had convinced yourself of that until the timer on your phone went off and a plus sign stared back at you. “Shit.” You cursed feeling your stomach drop. When a knock came on the door. “Yeah, just a minute.” You answered contemplating what to do with the test before stuffing it in your purse and foregoing the garbage before leaving.

Never thought that they'd be

Puttin' those life plans on the shelf

A couple American babies raisin' one up their self

“What’s wrong why do you keep looking at me like that?” Adam asked as you lay beside him in your hammock. Feeling sick after eating your birthday dinner and cake. The nerves of your discovery were certainly not helping.

“Like what?” You asked innocently.

“Like you’re about to tell me you cheated on me or something.” He chuckled nervously looking down at you.

“I didn’t cheat on you.” You rolled your eyes sitting up straighter to look at him.

“Oh good.“ He sighed reaching for your hand before it came out of your mouth without thought.

“I’m pregnant.” The words seemed to hit Adam like a brick as he stiffened beside you expression going blank. After a few seconds of silence you had to break it, “What do you want to do?” You asked snapping him out of his trance as he cleared his throat trying to adjust himself to sit up.

“I um..I don’t know I’m still trying to catch up here.” He shook his head running a hand through his hair, “how long have you..” He asked, figuring you’d catch on to what he was getting at.

“Yesterday morning.” You sighed leaning down to the ground to retrieve your purse and lay the test on his stomach after digging it out. He picked it up bringing it in line with his face which caused his complexion to go even whiter if that was possible.

“Yep. Mhm. That’s a plus sign alright.” He choked out voice sounding dry, “But you only took one?” He held it up to you, “what if it’s a-“ He started before you cut him off.

“Adam..” you pleaded looking at him.

“Yeah..right sorry.” He sighed, taking ahold of one of your hands and squeezing it. “So, what do you want to do?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t make this decision on my own.” You admitted, head falling into your hands.

“Hey, I’m right here.” He grabbed you pulling you back into his chest.

“I’m so scared. My parents are going to kill me.” You said, tears starting to cloud in your eyes at what was becoming more of a reality. “It’s just I’m supposed to be leaving for college in two months, you’re going to the academy in a month. All of our plans are already laid now. Now what?” You cried.

“We have more than one option.” He explained rubbing your back.

“What are you saying? You want to get rid of our baby?” You looked up at him in disbelief.

“I’m saying that whatever you want to do, I am here to support you till the end of our days. No matter what that decision may be.” He reassured you.

“What are you thinking?” You asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I just don’t understand..we’ve always been careful.” He thought out loud.

“Except once.” You bit your lip swallowing hard. He looked back at you head cocked to the side with confusion before realization came over his face sighing heavily.

“Only takes one fuck up I guess, right?” He chuckled nervously, his head falling back, tense silence taking over the environment.

One beer turns into a lit cigarette

Burnin' into a two beer buzz

Three beers turns into five and six

Then a love drunk kiss in the back of that truck

Just like that, everything rearranges

Life changes out of the blue

It's just a Bud Light, but ain't it funny

What one beer can turn into?

It was the night of graduation. You and your friends were celebrating with a party that included plenty of alcohol. It wasn’t uncommon for your clique to be attending a party and even though you were never big on parties or drinking you often accompanied your boyfriend since sophomore year, Adam Ruzek. Adam fit in with the popular crowd easily. He was an athlete, a cocky one at that, and you were the good straight A student that stood by his side. How you ended up with him you would never know just luck you guess. Your parents weren’t exactly keen on the idea of you two at first. He seemed like the guy who would take your heart and step on it the first chance he got, but despite your parents' protests, they learned he was a good guy and boyfriend behind his slightly big ego.

Anyway the biggest party of the year was starting to wind down. You were cuddled into Adam’s side on the couch. Your main friend group crowded around the two of you bullshitting and playing beer pong.

2 years prior you and your friends had stumbled across an abandoned building in the outskirts of Chicago. Naturally you all turned it into a party house. How you still hadn’t gotten caught was beyond you, but that was now a problem for the incoming seniors which you were handing it off to.

Adam has pulled you up off the couch dragging you behind him.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Ryan, Adam’s best friend asked.

“Give us 45 minutes.” Adam answered, still walking towards a different room of the building.

“What do you do with the other 42 minutes?” Ryan joked as the others laughed.

“Fuck off.” Adam chuckled, throwing him the finger. You and Adam were pretty tipsy at this point in the night. Having drank one beer after another. So, whenever you discovered your condom stash was empty the pull out method seemed like a good idea. It wasn’t until a month later you realized how bad of an idea that actually was. Was it the Bud Lights fault or Ryan’s from stealing your stash?

Sesame Street on the TV

A race car rollin' on a cardboard bridge

Crayon stick figure family

Stuck right there front center on the fridge

Flash back to two pink lines

A whole bunch of prayin' and doubtin'

Felt like the end of the world

Now the world don't spin without 'em

5 years later you sat at the kitchen table books and notes sprawled out as you attempted to study. Adam stood behind you cooking dinner while you kept an eye on your son, Hayes, who was right in front of you in the living room. Positioned on his stomach playing with his makeshift toy car race track, created by Adam, while simultaneously watching Sesame Street. Adam was now part of Chicago’s Intelligence unit giving you the opportunity to now go to college. Your retired mother often watched Hayes whenever he wasn’t in school. Admittedly 5 years ago you never thought you’d make it here. You were terrified. Between having to tell your parents and deciding to put college off in hopes of pushing Adam towards his dreams you doubted more often than you didn’t. Praying that it would all work out. A string of waitress and movie theatre jobs being your life as Adam made his way through the academy. But here you were content and happy. And honestly you couldn’t imagine life being any other way. Hayes was your entire world and you never wanted to imagine a day without him, and to think the whole thing started with some alcohol.

[riseofarmy]

01 | YOONGI KNOWS BEST

i can do this all day 01 | yoongi knows best

author : @riseofarmy

pairing : kim seokjin x original character

words : 1938

i can do this all day masterlist

previous chapter

DARLING

Yoongi squints his cat eyes and looks into my own from the folds of my jacket, but doesn't make a sound. Good boy. It's like you can read my mind. I stand still for what feels like an eternity, tuning out my heartbeat to check for any unusual sounds.

The one time I hadn't checked if other people were following, some whackjob had managed to tail me. If it hadn't been for Yoongi's soft hiss - something he only does around strangers - I wouldn't have even known I was being followed and would have led the creeper straight to the Han inheritance.

Just thinking about how close I had been to losing the treasure sent a shiver through me.

So thanks again, Yoongi. You and your hatred for social interaction saved our asses.

In acknowledgement of my mental gratitude, Yoongi pokes his head out of my jacket again and looks around. We were right in front of the entrance to the old Han tomb, which was embedded in a small hill among the Mount Ilsan forests. The tomb itself was made of light grey stone and extended into the mound, with the open entry leading to a locked door.

I pause under the entry for another minute, patting his soft, black fur and gathering my wits. It had taken me over a year to move back to Daehan-Minguk, but now that I was here it felt like my plan finally had a shot at success. The one thing I needed to make all my wishes come true was inside my tomb, and all I needed to do was get my hands on it.

The magic lamp.

"We'll go find it one day, Darling," my dad had said to me one day, when I was still too young to know how evil people can be. "Then I can treat your mum like the queen she is to me."

But first, I needed to get in.

I walk through the entry, where I'm faced with an imposing set of double doors made of the same grey stone I assume is used through the whole tomb. Yoongi nuzzles my hand when I bring it to my neck, where a small drawstring bag hangs; inside is the key my father gave me as he told me about the tomb.

It was a strange-looking key, with teeth poking at five angles rather than just one, but it clicks perfectly into the lock, and I nearly slump with relief. A part of me had been worried that perhaps after all I did to get here, the key wouldn't even fit, that my dad had made some sort of mistake.

There was no need to fear though. Stone grinds against stone as the doors are drawn apart by some ancient mechanism, and I step through.

If I didn't already know about the Han family, I could learn everything I needed to just by looking around.

Within was a long hallway, and in each of the small rooms branching off was the burial chamber of a different Han. The whole tomb was lit by the afternoon sunlight streaming through yellowing windows and all of the chambers were basically dripping in gold, studded with gems and draped with silks, all covered in a layer of dust.

As expected, the Han were filthy rich, even in death.

It was a little bit sickening to see when I had to slave away as a labourer for two years just to have the money to get to Daehan-Minguk. I tell myself that I would come back here one day and take away from the dead what they couldn't use anyway, but not now.

Right now, I have to go to the oldest tomb, the one which held Han Jinsoo and Han Euntaek. Everyone thought Euntaek started the Han empire, but the real brain behind the operation was his wife, Jinsoo. Despite having to pass credit to her husband for all her work, she built the most successful merchant business in Daehan-Minguk, and it was in her chamber that the real treasure was hidden.

I make my way to the foot of her tomb and find the brick with Jinsoo's name written on it, exactly where my dad said it would be. Before I can have second thoughts, I press it hard. For a stomach-churning second, nothing happens, but then I hear stone grinding again and the floor between her tomb and Euntaek slides apart.

Alright. Everything's going according to plan.

Yoongi pokes his head out to examine the dank, earthy smell coming from the steps the lead to the underground room. It had taken me so long to get to right here, and not once was I nervous. I knew this is what I had to do the second my dad told me about it, but now that I'm here...

No, I can't have second thoughts. I have to see this through to the end.

With a pat on Yoongi's head to gather my courage, I stride down the stairs, my heart already beating more erratically as I get closer to my dream. After the stairs is a long, winding passage that got darker and colder the further I went, but one last turn later, I'm faced with... more gold. What a surprise.

It's kind of pretty here though. I can't figure out how, but light streams into the room even though we're underground - it's just bright enough to set the looming heaps of coins alight with a soft orange glow. It wasn't dusty like the upper chambers, but I could still tell that no one had been here since it was last locked up.

Yoongi accidentally flicks my face with his tail as he wiggles out of my jacket and onto the floor. He walks alongside me as I explore the rolls of silk leaning against the walls, the chests filled with sparkling gems and-

Hang on. Where is it? Money, more fabric, diamonds... Is that the old royal crown? More gold, more gems...

I can't find it.

Even after searching for another hour, digging through the coins with a bored Yoongi clawing at my back, I can't find the lamp. Oh hell no. This is not happening right now. I can't have come all this way for it not to be here.

Panic grips me for a moment and I drop to the ground, running a hand over the hair that was just starting to grow out again. Come on Darling, think!

Dad said the old Han tombs were within the Mount Ilsan forests. He had given me the key, said to go into Jinsoo's chamber and press her name at the foot of her tomb, that the room I'm looking for would open. He told me everything he knew about the Han magic lamp...

Which means someone else has already come and taken it. But that can't be right either - Dad was the only one who knew about it, and I was the only one he told. There's no way someone could have just stumbled on the tomb either - it was set within jungle-like forests in the crook between two mountains, and the nearest town was hours away.

"Miaaaanngg." Yoongi butts his head against my legs, wrapping his tail around an ankle in the way he does when he wants to show me something.

"Not now Yoongi. Show me after I find the lamp, okay?" But he doesn't give up, pouncing on my foot with a newfound vigour and even attempting to bite my shin.

"Alright alright! Have it your way you utter goose." Finally satisfied, leads me to a chest I had already looked through and elegantly settles himself next to it. Unbelievable.

"Thanks Yoon, but I've already checked that one." I don't know if cats can look unimpressed, but he manages to do just that at my response. I take a step away from him, but he lets out a loud yowl and starts batting at the ground.

Where Han Jinsoo's name is inscribed in the stone.

"Yoongi!" I pick him up in a tight snuggle, pressing kisses to his head as he pretends not to enjoy it. "I'm sorry baby, I'll never doubt you again, I swear! I'll get you a whole cat palace for yourself."

With Yoongi snug in my arms, I stare at Jinsoo's name on the brick. I guess she only wanted the lamp to be taken by someone who needed only that - if I hadn't known the lamp existed, I would have been distracted by the never-ending rooms of gold.

Maybe it was important to her, too, when she was alive.

A wiggle from Yoongi prompts me to lean down and press the brick hard. This time, instead of any sort of door opening, the brick next to it pops open to reveal a hollow space filled only with-

The magic lamp!

I pick it up gently and nearly start crying with the relief that finally, finally, it was in my hands. Eleven years. That's how long I've coveted this lamp, and now...

A shit-eating grin creeps on my face as I examine it.

The body of the lamp was made with intricately hammered gold and the shade made with glass that fades from purple to clear. There was a peculiar jewel set into the gold - it's a deeper, velvety purple in the shadows, but a softer, lavender when the light hits it right.

Yoongi looks disgusted when a deranged cackle bubbles in my throat, but I didn't care. I felt a little deranged, drunk on the power this lamp gave me, this tiny lamp worth more than everything in this entire tomb put together.

"Yoonie-baby. Are you hungry? I bet you are. You want me to give you something yummy to snack on?" Yoongi simply drapes himself over a particularly soft roll of silk, ignoring me pointedly as if to say 'where in this room are you going to get food for me from?'

I stick my tongue out at him (even though he doesn't see it) and I stare into the gem in the lamp. "I'll show you. I wish that Yoongi had something to eat."

Nothing happens.

I wait for a minute - maybe it's dusty from not being used? - and then another, but still, nothing happens.

Just as I think to try again, though, the lamp starts to get warmer in my hands, trembling as if there was something inside. It gets so hot that I want to drop it, but it's like my fingers are glued to the gold. Not just my fingers are stiff though, my whole body seizes up and I can't move no matter how hard I will myself to.

Yoongi hisses at the lamp as it suddenly lights with a flame that flickers white and lilac. The flame doesn't stay within the glass shade - it grows until it shoots up to the ceiling, spreading across the surface and then back down the walls to cover everything in the room.

The fire morphs into a thick, purple smog, and just when I think I might choke on it, the smoke gets sucked back into the lamp.

Just like that.

It all happens so quickly that I might have imagined it, but the air smells different now, less earthy and more like jasmine. My fingers unstick from the suddenly cold metal and let it fall to the ground. I follow it down, letting Yoongi jump into my lap as he yowls and butts his head against my quivering hands.

And then, a voice.

"Man does it feels good to be out of there!"

i can do this all day masterlist

next chapter

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 Haikyuu!! Week 2020 | Day 2 』

· Sept. 26th → One Ball, Heart and Soul ·

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Testurou Kuroo, Bokuto Koutarou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Oikawa Tooru, Terushima Yuuji

Prompts: A. favourite position/role + B. travel/journey

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), PG, fluff, crack, headcanons, HaikyuuWeek2020

A/N: I found it so hard to pick a favourite position/role, because they're all so interesting and important, and I love everyone 😭 But I settled on the role of captain because of the headcanons I thought of. Captain Sqaud, assemble! So, want to find out what these boys are like on a road trip?

(Just to be clear, I do love all these guys. None of this is hate 😂) All my Haikyuu Week 2020 posts will be SFW, but I have some NSFW stuff on my blog, too. Feel free to check that out~ Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ Imo~

☆ Sawamura Daichi ☆

Dad-chi™

Comes prepared with all the food, drinks, snacks, med kit, camera – literally everything you could possibly need on a road trip

Plans out the route beforehand down to the tiniest detail nothing gets past this man

As well as multiple backup routes in case there's diversions etc.

Plans for regular breaks at two-hour intervals where everyone can pee, stretch their legs, buy anything they need, etc.

He's the one who's driving he's not letting anybody else get a scratch on his van, lmao

And he's good at it

No speeding he's a cop, y'all but he doesn't dawdle either, no running red lights, turns corners well, keeps an even foot on the gas, etc.

Just a good time, tbh

Nobody is getting car sick because of him that would be a damn disgrace

"Stop fighting right now, or I'm turning this van around"

And will actually do it if you don't stfu, lmfao

Don't even think about making a mess and dropping your rubbish in the van you'll be walking home

Everyone else thinks his music is boring and for old people, but Daichi honestly doesn't care

Besides, it's either that or no music at all, because he needs to concentrate on the road

He takes this shit seriously. People's lives are in his hands, dammit!

☆ Testurou Kuroo ☆

Likes to switch between driving and riding shotgun/being designated navigator

Is fairly decent at both

Is constantly eating something but, like, he probably doesn't even know what it is

Some kind of edible is shoved towards his mouth by whoever's riding shotgun, and in it goes shut up. Not like that, you cretins 😂

Somehow manages to behave like an overbearing grandparent and an overexcited child at the same time?? Nothing new there, I guess 😂

I'm sorry, Kuroo, I love you. Please don't be mad 😭

Has a banging playlist full of throwback songs from the 90s and early 2000s

Drums along sofly on the steering wheel or dashboard constantly

HATES driving in rain he's low-key terrified he's going to aquaplane

Likes driving with the windows wound down and feeling the wind in his hair

Will plan the route, but then forget to save it/print it off, etc.

Cannot work Google Maps or SAT-NAVs to save his life Kenma, please help him

Actually packs properly balanced meals, but is heavy on the snacks, too

You'd think he'd drive too fast, but he's actually really responsible

Constantly telling dad jokes to try and keep people amused the groaners are the best

Would probably fight someone at the gas station if they started being a dick and causing trouble

Kuroo, baby. I love you, but please don't get arrested 😭😂😭

☆ Bokuto Koutarou ☆

Dear God, do NOT let him drive leave it to Akaashi, I'm begging you

Has really bad spacial awareness in a vehicle and drifts all over the place

Probably speeds without even knowing it, too

Likes to ride shotgun, but is a terrible navigator, so is nearly always made to ride in the back

Is the loud one that moves around too much and blocks the rear view mirror strap him in tight, Akaashi

Belts along at the top of his voice to whatever music is playing, he's not fussy

Was told to pack essential items in his backpack and proceeded to fill it with sweets and snacks and a pack of condoms??? and thought he did good

Bokuto: Bro, you said they were essential

Akaashi: NOT FOR EVERY SITUATION

Rarely ever has to pee, but when he does, it's always miles away from any service station, and he has to hold it for hours

Has definitely peed at the side of the road multiple times because he couldn't hold it any longer, but he wasn't even embarrassed as numerous cars zoomed past

Likes sticking his head out the window like a dog on the motorway which gives everyone else heart attacks

Like, get the hell back inside you maniac 😭

If the car has a sunroof, he's 100% standing up through it with his hands in the air just you try and stop him

And they will. Everyone will try

"HORSES!!"

Will get out of the car in traffic jams to find out what's going on and end up chatting with random strangers until it starts moving again

And he's very sad when he has to leave his new friends. Droopy hair and emo Kou for the next 2 hours :(

Unironically enjoys playing 'I Spy' for hours at a time

Is a bit much to handle in such a confined space for hours on end, but he's just so excited for the road trip

Will fall sound asleep in a matter of minutes if you set him up with a travel pillow and it's freaking adorable!!

☆ Ushijima Wakatoshi ☆

No music whatsoever it's distracting. Why would he want it?

Okay driver, brilliant paper-map navigator

Will sit and do absolutely nothing but stare out the window the entire trip if he's neither

Breaks too hard and accelerates too fast, though

Is also kind of heavy-handed with the gear stick he may or may not have snapped one off before...

Never give him a SAT-NAV, though, because he will follow the directions with 100% accuracy and end up driving through a wall or some shit don't try and deny it

Does he ever even blink when he's looking at the road? We may never know

Might be astral projecting, who knows

Forgets people need toilet breaks but refuses to make unscheduled stops

"Just hold it in"

Uh-huh, sure. That's how that works, Toshi

No snacks

Or rather, no fun snacks. Protein bars and mineral water all the way, babyyyy 🙃🙃🙃

Could probably drive all through the night without taking any breaks but that's irresponsible

Don't do it, kids

Will likely devour the entire KFC menu at the service station he's big, okay? He eats a lot

Is prone to leg cramp after long drives oh look, he needs a massage 😏

Doesn't get car sick. Ever. Upset stomachs are for the weak

Has garbage and recycling pouches on the backs of the front seats use them correctly, or feel his wrath

Isn't exactly a barrel of laughs, but it's somehow endearing just like always *happy sigh*

But it's actually a good thing

There's no hidden side to Ushi or any bad or annoying habits that come out of the woodwork on a long road trip

He's just the same old reliable, adorably straightforward Ushijima ❤

☆ Oikawa Tooru ☆

Calls shotgun and demands the aux cord every. Single. Time but it's pretty decent music, so no-one really complains

Not that he's any good at navigation pray for Iwa-chan

Is constantly taking selfies, making TikToks, and documenting the trip on his social media

#ROADTRIP #SQUAD GOALS #BETTER THAN YOU

Will send all the photos in the group chat when it's over, and they actually come out pretty well

Will not stop complaining if the air conditioning is busted and Iwa-chan will threaten to dump him in the middle of nowhere if he doesn't can it 😂

Iwa-chan: I shoulda left you on that street corner where you were standing

Oikawa: But'cha dIDN'T

Bonus points if you get that reference, lmao

Has to keep taking breaks because his butt hurts when he sits down for too long because it's fLaT

I'm sorry, Tooru 😭😭 Forgive me. I love you, really

Is constantly on his phone

But he points out pretty views and interesting sights to everyone all the time awww

Low-key needs to pee all the time, but gets defensive if someone brings it up please stop bulling him, travelling is hard

"Are we there yet?"

Seems kind of annoying, but is actually just genuinely excited to go on a road trip and spend time with his friends 😭😭

Buys matching souvenirs for everyone in secret to surprise them with 🥺

When people complain about all the photos, souvenirs, and enthusiasm, etc. and ask why he has to keep doing it, Oikawa says:

"I want to remember as much of this as possible. I want us all to remember as much of this as much as possible," with a sweet little smile 😭😭😭

And that's when everyone realises how mean they've been to him about being over-the-top and irritating, and they all feel terrible

Just like in the freaking anime, man

☆ Terushima Yuuji ☆

Will hijack the aux cord to play his incredibly niche music taste

Feet up on the dashboard when he rides shotgun

Shoes on is bad enough, but shoes off just stinks up the entire car you have to roll all the windows down, lmfao

Will break all sorts of road laws if you let him behind the wheel please don't

Daichi will come and arrest him 😭😭

Lives on energy drinks

That's all the drinks he packs. Nothing else

Travels in sports wear and sliders yes, even though you reallly shouldn't drive in sandals

Like he knows or cares 😭

Will chat to girls at the gas station and ask for their numbers, even though he's never going to see them again

"You never know, man! It could be, like, fate or something"

Yes, Yuuji, you do. And it's 'or something'

Thinks it's a good time to sext his current booty call because, like, he has hours of free time. What else is he going to do?

Probably forgot to pack actual food

Has to live off of snacks and cheap service station food for the duration of the trip

But not his own snacks, of course. Everyone else's one doesn't keep friends and buy one's own snacks

Genuinely doesn't realise if he's being gross or annoying, so let him down lightly like a bro and he'll probably make an effort to stop

Doesn't plan the route or anything, even if he's driving. Just punches it into Google Maps as he sits his ass down on the day and trusts it to get him there in one piece and on time

Entire Johzenji team: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...

For some reason knows how to change a flat tire, though, so he's good for something, I guess 😂😂

Probably saw a YouTube video on it. Maybe a WikiHow article

Somehow still manages to be an endearing part of the trip??

He smiles a lot and makes a lot of jokes, particularly when things go wrong, so it keeps everyone's spirits up

It definitely wouldn't be the same without him

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[sparkandwolf]

I'm in the mood for something extra mushy and schmoopy so how about some Sterek dancing in the rain? :) ♥ No pressure if you don't like that prompt, though!!

Happiest Year

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale Rating: General Summary: For the first time in their five years of dating, Derek somehow convinced his fiancé to give him the reigns. He had everything scheduled down to the minute, the entire day planned to absolute perfection, with the exception of one tiny little problem.

Rain. Thunder. Lightning. Wind.

So, four problems really because when has Derek ever been lucky enough to have just one thing to go wrong?

____________________

Derek wanted their anniversary to be perfect. Every year, Stiles came up with an elaborate plan to romance the hell out of him, and for the first time in their five years of dating, Derek somehow convinced his fiancé to give him the reigns. He had everything scheduled down to the minute, the entire day planned to absolute perfection, with the exception of one tiny little problem. 

Rain. Thunder. Lightning. Wind. 

So, four problems really because when has Derek ever been lucky enough to have just one thing to go wrong? He watched from his Camaro as the rain extinguished the circle of candles he had set up in the sand and the wind blew away the tablecloth expertly draped over the wooden table it had taken three people to settle. He slammed his head on the steering wheel, the honk of the horn waking his sleeping partner with a jolt. 

“Derek, what--” Stiles gasped as he looked at the beach and surprise flooded through Derek as a bright smile overtook his face. He reached over and squeezed Derek’s thigh with a tight grip, practically bouncing in his seat. 

“It’s a disaster, Stiles, you don’t have to prete--” Stiles launched himself over the center console so that he could press his lips against Derek’s. It was uncoordinated and sloppy, but so full of emotion that Derek had to kiss him back with just as much affection. When he pulled away and leaned over to open the door, Derek grabbed at his jacket and pulled him back. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” Stiles asked with a pout. Derek gestured outside where the thunder was rumbling, lightning was illuminating the sky, and rain was soaking everything in its path. Stiles seemed unconcerned as he shrugged his shoulders. “You think you’re getting out of this date because of a little water?” Stiles challenged with a scoff. “We’ve been through Hell together, Derek, a little rain won’t kill us.” 

“The lightning might,” Derek countered with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“There’s only a 0.033% chance of being struck by lightning, Der.” Stiles argued, reaching for the handle again. Derek locked the door before he could exit which earned a glare from Stiles. 

“There’s a 0% chance that werewolves are real, too,” Derek retorted. Stiles stuck out his tongue and before Derek could stop him, unlocked the door and ran out into the rain. Derek threw his head back against the seat with a groan before begrudgingly opening his own door and following his fiancé with quick feet. 

read the rest on ao3 or under the cut

“You know,” Stiles shouted over the boom of thunder, “this reminds me of our first date.” Derek couldn’t help but laugh as he reached Stiles, attempting to grab his hand to lead him back to the warmth and dryness of the car. Stiles was too fast, though, and maneuvered around the table, placing his palms flat on it in challenge. 

Derek rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “You mean the first date that I do not count as our first date?” Derek said with a small smile on his lips. 

“If there’s a kiss at the end of it, it’s a date, Derek. Scott said so!” Derek tried to reach over the table to Stiles, but he ran a few feet away toward the water, holding his arms out and throwing his head back as he twirled. 

“You were almost dead, Stiles, I hardly think that counts,” Derek shouted through another crash of thunder. Lightning lit up the sky once more and Derek saw every detail of Stiles’ face in a new light, one that he wanted ingrained in his memory forever. 

Although he would vehemently deny that day was their first date, he couldn’t deny that was the day he realized he loved Stiles. Just the thought of him being injured enough to need Melissa to nurse him back to life had his heart thumping out of his chest. He remembered that day too clearly. He was done ignoring the feelings he had for Stiles and couldn’t hold himself back from finally kissing Stiles in relief that he was okay. 

“If that doesn’t count, then a majority of our dates weren’t real. Which means this is probably only our fifth date,” Stiles retorted, sticking his tongue out as Derek walked over to him. He swiped a hand across his face to get rid of the rainwater, but the smile never left. Derek admired that the most about Stiles; how no matter the circumstance, he would always find a reason to smile, a reason to be happy they were together. 

“Well, if we’ve only had five dates, then I guess I can just take that ring off of your finger,” Derek teased as he grabbed onto Stiles’ hand and pulled them flush together. Stiles struggled for a moment, laughter reverberating louder than any thunder could, as he clutched his hand to his chest. 

“Over my cold, dead, body, Hale!” He shouted, peering up at Derek through long, soaked eyelashes. Derek felt like the breath was knocked out of his lungs at the sight. Stiles, standing in front of him, so carefree and happy to be celebrating their anniversary, it was too much for Derek. It had been five years and Stiles could still have Derek’s stomach fluttering with just a grin. 

“I love you,” Derek said honestly, shaking his head in disbelief. Stiles’ face softened, his face darkening in a blush as he pushed Derek’s hair off of his forehead, smoothing it back with the rain. 

“Dance with me,” Stiles requested, stepping far enough away to hold his hands out for Derek to take. Derek furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at the sky hoping that the rain may show signs of stopping. When he looked back down, Stiles was gone. Derek turned abruptly as he heard a very familiar song start playing from the Camaro. 

“It was my job to romance you,” Derek said as Stiles approached him and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck. Derek slid his arms around Stiles’ waist, pulling him as close as he possibly could, knowing that it would never be close enough. Stiles looked up at him, that beautiful smile still on his face as they swayed slowly. 

“You planned an entire night for me, Derek. I can’t think of a time that you put this much effort into something so…” Stiles trailed off, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck. “I know you don’t necessarily like celebrating such mundane moments like this.” Before Derek could argue, Stiles tugged at a few strands and shot him a glare. 

“Five years is a long time,” Derek said instead, leaning down to place a soft kiss against Stiles’ damp forehead. He rested his own where his lips had brushed and closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of the rain, the ocean, and the comforting scent of Stiles, of home. 

“Did you ever think we would get here?” Stiles whispered, barely audible over a crash of the thunder. Derek chuckled and shook his head, sliding a hand up Stiles’ side before cupping his jaw in his hand. 

“I hoped we would. I was in love with you for so long, Stiles.” Stiles blushed and tried to look away, but Derek held his face still as the lightning illuminated Stiles’ caramel eyes, so full of love that Derek felt his own prickle with tears. “I know I’ve told you this a million times, but-- Stiles, you were the first person in my life to give me peace, to, to give me everything I ever wanted without asking for anything in return. You’re the most selfless and kind person I’ve ever met and somehow, someway, you love me back.” Derek said with a laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Derek--” Stiles started, but Derek cut him off with another soft press of lips, wet with what Derek couldn’t be sure was rain or his own tears. 

“No, you got your chance when you proposed, now it’s my turn,” Derek said with no heat in his voice. Stiles nodded up at him, his own eyes reddening with unshed tears. “When I first met you, I had no idea how important you would be to me. I thought you were just a dumb, incorrigible human who wanted a change of pace and decided running with werewolves was the way to do it.” Stiles laughed and pressed his head into Derek’s shoulder, placing a light kiss on the soaked fabric of Derek’s shirt. 

“But then I realized that you’re just loyal, to an almost fault, and you care so much for other people, in an unmatchable way. You have these people in your life and once they’re yours, they’re yours forever. I am grateful every single day that you chose me, that I get to be one of those people. I don’t know that I can ever thank you enough for how happy you make me. I can’t imagine waking up to an empty bed, coming home to a silent house, falling asleep without your open-mouthed snores.”

“Hey, I don’t--!” Derek slid his hand to the back of Stiles’ neck and pushed it back into his shoulder, knowing that if he looked into Stiles’ eyes, he would never be able to finish his declaration. If he couldn’t have the romantic date he had planned, he would at least let Stiles know just how important he was. 

“I love you more than anything in the world, Stiles. You changed the way I look at life and shaped my future to something I can’t help but look forward to. So,” Derek took a deep breath, “I know this night isn’t exactly what either of us expected, but isn’t that just what our life is? You threw so many curveballs into my life and provided me with so many surprises that slow dancing in the rain seems inconsequential. But the thing is, no moment with you is insignificant. Every single second spent with you are the best moments of my life.” Derek felt Stiles pull back and watched the tears bubble from his eyes as he peered up at Derek, holding his face so delicately in his hands. 

“Who knew Derek Hale was such a sap,” Stiles joked. Derek knew Stiles well enough to know when his jokes masked his emotion and that was one of those times. Derek shook his head and pressed their foreheads together once more, holding onto Stiles like he would fly away in the wind if he were to let go. 

“Thank you for the happiest years of my life, Stiles,” Derek finished, gazing into Stiles’ eyes and hoping he could see the sincerity in them. Stiles nodded slowly and for what might have been the first time in their lives together, had nothing to add. 

Derek wasn’t sure how long they stood on the beach with the rain pouring around them, the thunder roaring above them, too wrapped up in each other to care about their surroundings. They were happy, as they always were when they were together, and Derek let himself remember that was all that really mattered. 

[inkprintedfox]

OC Study

Tagged by @advena87 to fill out -THIS- OC question prompt.

I tag @starsandskies @1orweth @kanawolf

This is time consuming so I can understand if you guys don't want to do it, so no pressure. I spent roughly a week and a half, almost two weeks on this? No regrets, mostly took so long for me because I work full time and I tend to space out a lot and ramble. Lol

It is quite a bit of fun and a good exercise to help develop your characters so I do recommend It! Don't recommend doing more than three OCs at a time though, three was hard for me and usually I'm an over-achiever. Go easy and dont burn yourself out! Also would be a good exercise if you're writing with a canon character and want to get a handle on working with them.

I wanted to answer this in character originally but it would have been twice as long and probably taken me a month or more. 😅 Perhaps I'll do something like that one day....

Dragon Age OCs per usual for me.

Warden-Commander and Hero of Fereldan (DAO & DAOA)

Growing up in the Denerim Alienage has made Feiell a very bitter, angry, and agressive person. Biting and scrabbling to survive she also had to fight to keep her family and neighbors safe from the rich humans that liked to exploit the destitute elves. She gained a reputation as a protector but also a very hard woman.

She redibly accepted her conscription into the Grey Wardens, not only to escape the persecution of the law, but also to escape the narrow world of the Alianage. Collecting the people that would later be affectionately called "The Blight Brigade" exposed her to many new adventures as well as lifelong friendships, love, and personal growth that could not have happened otherwise.

The Champion of Kirkwall (DA2)

Laid-back, vain, and honestly somewhat lazy, Aiden has never wanted to be anyone's savior let alone a whole city's. Family has been the only thing that mattered in his life and after his father's death, he naturally took on the role of protector and main provider for his mother and siblings. This also made it very natural to take in the stray band of misfits that became almost like family and also why it is so natural for Aiden to constantly help people, even at times he would rather not.

His bleeding heart drags Aiden into the center of conflict far more often than he likes and he constantly berates himself for it. This automatic altruism has jaded him which fuels his sarcastic and sometimes bitter, self-deprecating humor. A tad over dramatic at times means that while he rarely, it ever, says no to aiding someone in need, it certainly doesn't mean he has to be quiet about it either.

The Inqusitor (DAI)

Max has been fortunate for most of his life, from growing up in the wealthy Trevelyan family, to his good looks and, quiet frankly, fantastic smile it's easy to assume he'd be another spoiled rich brat. You'd be giving in to a stereotype that doesn't, quiet, fit him though. From a young age Max has always been outgoing and adventurous which made him a handful to raise. His father frequently grappled with finding things to keep his youngest son occupied in ways that he hadn't had to do with his previous three children.

Born with a naturally sharp mind and quick wit, Max picks up new concepts quickly and with ease. Which means he often grew board with tutors, burned through the family library in a handful of years, quickly became very competent on horseback as well as the breeding and rearing of them (part of the family business), and often terrorized his siblings as well as the hired staff. Once he exhausted most of the interesting things at home he started running off to search for new adventures. Boredom and frequent arguments with his father often lead to habitual bouts of running away from home. Hence where Max got to truly learn about the world and open his eyes to the kind of privilege he's been so lucky to be born with. Unfortunately this also has ingrained his habit of running away from problems he doesn't see a forward solution to. (*cough*theinqusiton*cough*)

OC Study

Featuring:

Warden-Commander Feiell “Fe" Tabris

Champion of Kirkwall Aiden Hawke

Inquisitor Maxwell “Max" Trevelyan

1. Is your OC easily bothered by things?

Feiell – Small things don’t really bother her but she is a tad hot-headed so if you give her a hard time you might not be in for the best experience. She also has zero tolerance for idiots or assholes.

Aiden – He’s a petty bitch that mostly whines and complains to annoy his friends. Also whining about petty things is a good cover for the bigger worries and anxieties he hides underneath.

Max – Mostly an easygoing, carefree type. It takes the numerous responsibilities of the Inquisition weighing down on him all at once before he starts cracking.

2. How easily does your OC make friends?

Feiell – Most defiantly not a people person. Her natural stoic demure and biting sarcasm keeps people at bay. You have to spend quite a bit of time around her before she warms up to you.

Aiden – For reasons he doesn’t really understand people like Aiden. It’s probably his easy smile and sense of humor which he uses to get what he wants or needs out of them. Not really manipulative just doesn’t feel like he deserves the attention. The humor mostly hides his pain and keeps people at arms length, mostly unintentionally. He hates to burden those he loves.

Max – Max loves people, mostly entertaining, or teasing them. His signature charming smile and good looks usually put people at ease which makes him very likable. It also lets him get away with the mischief he often gets into.

3. Does your OC go beyond what they have to do or do they usually do just enough work to get by?

Feiell – Has almost literally killed herself to get where she is. Her work ethic is legendary and she’ll do almost anything to support her family and friends.

Aiden – Will do the barest minimum to get by. Her lazy as hell, even though he is incapable of saying no when someone needs help.

Max – Believes in doing things right the first time and if not the first time then defiantly the second time. Whatever the job needs to get done he willing to do and if it’s a favorite project he can lose himself in it indefinitely.

4. Is your OC respectful of others?

Feiell – She will be as respectful to you as you are to her, but will out match you if you’re a dick to her or her friends.

Aiden – Respectful enough to not cause trouble and get people to leave him alone.

Max – Perfect manners, and ridiculously charming. He believes everyone deserves respect unless they prove otherwise.

5. Is your OC imaginative or more down-to-earth?

Feiell – Defiantly no-nonsense and down-to-earth. She believes in hard work to active your goals.

Aiden – More of a day-dreamer but pulls a practical side together to care for and help family and friends. Dreams are nice but plans put food on the table.

Max – Total idealist, truly believes even the most impossible is attainable if you work at it long enough. Most of that idealistic optimism is broken after Trespasser, but that’s a long story.

6. Is your OC comfortable with themselves?

Feiell – She’s always been comfortable with who she is and has never felt any shame for it. She owes that to her parents and cousin.

Aiden – Feels like a constant failure and a burden despite how hard he tries not to. Doesn’t feel comfortable with opening up about his feelings and weighing others down with them. Is also terrible with expressing more painful emotions.

Max – Is mostly comfortable with himself. Always felt like a disappointment to his family because he never had the kind of goals for his life he thought they would want from him. Also never really saw himself as reliable but the Inquisition changed all that.

7. Does your OC plan things and stick to it or do they make it up as their go?

Feiell – Always has a plan and is a master of adjusting things on the fly if needed. Prefers to stick to the plan but has accepted how rarely that can happen.

Aiden – He’s been winging his whole life and it somehow hasn’t killed him yet.

Max – Usually has more of an outline than a hard plan. Trial & error are his best friends and somehow he’s still alive, that’s probably because he uses educated guesses more that throwing things to the wind.

8. Was their life eventful before the start of the story, or was it more dull?

Feiell – Depends if living in poverty and oppression is dull to you. I guess since it was normal for her it was boring.

Aiden – The stress of hiding a mage father and sister was more than Aiden ever wanted. He would have preferred boring.

Max – While the constant mischief Max got himself into means things were never dull they certainly seem boring when compared to life in the Inquisition. Josephine certainly had her hands full going through all of Max’s past exploits.

9. Do they have the habit to insult other people?

Feiell – Is a salty, little bitch so defiantly yes. She has a sharp tongue.

Aiden – Bit of a smart-ass and occasionally he can’t help it so it gets him in trouble.

Max – Mostly no, it takes quite a bit to get on his nerves enough to make him snap at you. Usually very polite.

10. Would your OC be described as “the life of the party”?

Feiell – She can be described as the death of the party.

Aiden – Likes to think he is.

Max – Is the actual life of the party if he wants to be. Usually he is.

11. Are they critical of others?

Feiell – To a degree, yes

Aiden - Mostly critical of himself

Max – Not really, he’s pretty non-judgmental

12. Do they like art? what is their favorite type (paintings, songs, fashion, etc)?

Feiell – The art of war perhaps, but music is good too.

Aiden – He considers Fenris a work of art if that counts.

Max – Paintings, music, nature, pretty clothes (mostly on Dorian), Max loves it all. He was especially fond of watching Solar paint his murals.

13. Are they more accepting or more controlling of the people in their life?

Feiell – As long as you’re not bothering her and no one gets hurt she doesn’t really care what people do.

Aiden – He has no control over his own life let alone any one else.

Max – Very accepting of people but not above a subtle nudge to do things he feels might benefit them.

14. Is your OC a good listener?

Feiell – She listens more than she talks, so yes.

Aiden – The one who’s always there to listen when you need him.

Max - Yes, he also has a great memory so he's very good at keeping track of all the drama in life. Lol

15. Are they opinionated or more willing to change their minds?

Feiell – Pretty opinionated but not impossible to change her mind, not that it is easy to do so mind you.

Aiden – Too changeable at times and mostly keeps his opinions to himself.

Max – A few solid moral opinions that he won’t move on but open-minded on nearly everything else.

16. Are they the kind of person who’s always on the defensive?

Feiell – Much less than she use to be but definitely yes.

Aiden – Only when he feels blamed for everything, which he is often.

Max – No, he dose his best to own up to his mistakes and rarely takes things personally.

17. Do people like hanging around them? do they have a positive, friendly energy?

Feiell – I will file this under HELL NO. She scares the crap out of most people if she doesn’t piss them off. It can take quite awhile for friends to warm up to her, if at all.

Aiden – People love Aiden, but the older he gets the less Aiden likes people. They demand too much from him but he’ll never be able to say no, or miss a chance at a passive-aggressive joke. Or a regular bad joke for that matter.

Max – People love Max almost from the moment they meet him. There is just something about him that puts everyone at ease and makes it easier to trust and smile. Must be the charming smile, yeah, has to be. He’s not bad looking either.

18. Is your OC a procrastinator? if they are, what’s an example of how much?

Feiell – People die if she puts things off, so no. Some days she wishes she could put many things off though. Like dying anytime soon, there’s too much to accomplish.

Aiden – What is productivity? If nobody is dying or it’s not dragging him, kicking and screaming, by the hair then its probably not getting done. At least no time soon. Guilt trip him hard to speed things up.

Max – Important things get done but if it’s not a pressing issue then it often can be temporarily abandoned for more enjoyable activities. Even if it’s set aside, the thing will still be done in a reasonable amount of time. Unless he forgets, which can happen frequently.

19. Do they tend to panic in certain situations or are they more calm?

Feiell – Always calm, if something bothers her you’ll never know.

Aiden – Panics constantly. Somewhat hides it well…somewhat…

Max – Takes most things in stride, the sudden dump of responsibility and people’s lives was really stressful but he adjusted to it.

20. Are they vengeful?

Feiell – I literally made a post of her being a deity of vengeance lol.

Aiden – Petty or bitter, perhaps, but not full on vengeful.

Max – Yes, touch the people he loves and see a whole different side of him.

21. What are some skills your OC has a talent for and what are some that they worked for?

Feiell – She’s has a natural flair for swordsmanship, her mother started training her and Fe kept up the practice even after her mother’s passing. Her leadership skills were…a little more rough. She had to learn how to organize and lead people on the fly because of the Blight but luckily she learns quickly.

Aiden – He’s scary good at lying, not even Varric can catch him in one. (Honestly most of his book is just Varric's best guess on Aiden's thoughts) Knife throwing took quite a bit of practice though. He can now nail someone at 100 pages and is unmatched at darts.

Max – Politics and navigating the Great Game are weirdly natural for Max even though he kinda hates it. His archery skill is something he is extremely proud of because he’s practiced relentlessly to be as good as he is. And he really is good, until a natural like Sera comes and shatters his ego. Lol

22. Are they more socially awkward or socially confident?

Feiell – Awkward, but in the way that she doesn’t care what people do or say. She dose her own thing and ignores everyone else.

Aiden – Smooth on the outside, tired wreak on the inside. Not that anyone will ever know.

Max – Social chameleon, and life of the party. Until he slips away unnoticed somehow.

23. What is something really dumb that irritates your OC a lot?

Feiell – Dumb questions about her hair: “How long is it?”, “Why do you keep it that long?”, “Is it really that red?”. Usually answered with “Why do you care so much, it’s not your hair.” Also people touching her constantly, she doesn’t see the need to constantly clap people on the shoulder or grab their arms when somethings funny.

Aiden – Orlesians, if you don’t know anything about DA then I’m sorry, this probably doesn’t make sense to you.

Max – Assuming he's stupid or that because of his wealth that he doesn't do any work. He's a natural busy-body so assuming he sits on his are all day is really irritating.

24. Do they tend to see the good in people?

Feiell – No, she’s had too many bad experiences before so distrust is her default until proven otherwise.

Aiden – Sometimes, mostly sees people in shades of grey. No one is 100% good or bad.

Max – He sees the good in people as often as he can and tries to pull some good out of those who are sometimes a little lost.

25. What does it take for your OC to trust someone?

Feiell – Doing what you say you will, not hiding things, sticking up for others when it clearly has no benefit for you, and give it a few weeks….or months and she may trust you.

Aiden – Help him out in a hard spot, or help family/friends.

Max – If you’re not openly malicious or he doesn’t feel like you’re lying/hiding anything his default if to trust until proven otherwise.

26. Do they have a lot of mood swings?

Feiell – Not really, she’s not a very emotional person. Unless you count her temper which can light like a matchstick.

Aiden - Known to be moody, to the point of it being a well known joke among friends. On bad days he can even out do Anders.

Max – Only if the stress is overwhelming him or he’s pretty sick. Otherwise he’s pretty even tempered.

27. Do they like to be the center of attention or do they prefer to be in the background?

Feiell – Hates being the center of attention and would rather be left alone. Unfortunately she’s had to get use to the attention after becoming Warden-Commander.

Aiden – If people could forget who he is it would be really nice. Likes being the center of attention among friends and family, doesn’t like it with crowds of strangers.

Max – Loves entertaining people and making them laugh which makes him great for parties. He grew up attending big gatherings and is an expert at navigating them, which means he's also very good at slipping away from them when he tires of the crowds.

28. Do people think they’re pretentious?

Feiell – Sometimes, her natural expression can give that impression but most of those people that make this mistake are racist shems that don’t like the power she has. Or the fact that she could kill them without breaking a sweat.

Aiden – No, his face is too friendly and if that doesn’t do it the self-deprecating jokes do.

Max – Yes, it’s easy for people to assume that since he comes from money. He’s never thought himself better than anyone though and tries to dispel that impression, but you can’t control what people want to think of you.

29. Is your OC detail oriented or do they focus more on the big picture?

Feiell – Details, details, you add them all up and that’s how you get a bigger picture. Other words, very detail oriented.

Aiden – Big picture. How you get there is a mystery though.

Max – Big picture first then an outline of the main details to get there.

30. Which high school movie stereotype would they fit best?

Feiell – The ice queen/The strict, scary teacher.

Aiden – Class clown/Troublemaker/Weird but laid back teacher

Max – The jock that befriends the weird kid/Hot science teacher

31. Are they good giving advice?

Feiell – Defiantly not, she’s better at giving orders.

Aiden – Only ask if you want to get in trouble. Ok, that’s not completely true, occasionally he can give good advice. Particularly to help cheer someone up.

Max – I would say yes, he’s gotten quite a bit of good advice over the years and likes to pass it on.

32. Which one of the 7 deadly sins fit your OC more? do they see it as a flaw?

Feiell – Wrath: Only a flaw if you think beating your enemies is a bad thing.

Aiden - Sloth: Regrets this flaw. If he had acted sooner on many things they might not have escalated the way they did.

Max – Pride: A flaw he has worked hard to temper over the years. Was more of a problem when he was younger than now.

33. Is your OC more likely to keep their feelings to themselves or to share them?

Feiell – Keeps them mostly to herself. A couple close friends may get a glimpse but only Zevran knows her well. He’s learned when to prod to get her to open up.

Aiden – Doesn’t like to burden others so keeps his feelings to himself even when he shouldn’t.

Max – His oldest sister is his best friend and confidant, she gets to hear everything. Max has started to lean on Dorian in this way too. Basically immediate family and good friends will know what’s up.

[youhearstatic]

For the micro-prompts: 20, 16, or 47? (I like to give options in case one jumps out more than the others, so don't feel like you should combine them or something!)

20 - You probably thought I forgot, right? I didn’t! (And I haven’t forgotten the other two I have left, either!)

Surprise, surprise, this one went long. Hope you like it!

--------------------------

Alone, Finally

 Barry followed the rest of the crew down the backstage hallway, tugging at the unfamiliar robe they’d been given right before they went on stage. Well, that some of them had been given. Magnus was wearing a jacket he’d instantly pulled the sleeves off of. The captain had a longer version of the same jacket that was tailored immaculately to him with military severity. Merle hadn’t even worn his for the press conference. The twins had worn both jackets and robes, somehow making the IPRE uniform look like couture instead of standard issue. Lucretia was in the robe but she looked like a lost boarding school student, the crimson robe looked stylishly scholastic on her. He tugged at the neck of the robe again, even more self conscious than he’d been on stage. 

Ahead of him, the twins had their heads bowed together, whispering and laughing. For the first of many, many times, the echo of Lup’s comment on stage scraped across his thoughts like nails on a chalkboard. 

Nerd alert!

Just a few more minutes and the others would be heading to that bar they’d mentioned. And then - for one last time for a while - he’d be alone, finally. 

---

 Trailing his hand down the wall, Barry made his way by memory. After eleven years he could have done it with his eyes closed.

Which was essentially what he was doing. 

It was stupid, so fucking stupid. Okay, sure, that first year he hadn’t known to take his glasses off. Why would he? But by the third time they regenned he should have figured out that his glasses were going to be important and he should set them aside before … whatever it was that happened at the end of the cycle. That fourth year he’d died, that could be excused. The eighth year he’d had it ingrained in him not to even think of removing his mask. So that year could be excused, too. 

But that still left six regens. Six opportunities to set aside a pair of glasses in case of emergency. 

Well maybe next year he’d remember. But for the rest of this year he was practically blind. Anything beyond arm’s reach might as well not exist. He could make out colors and if he squinted really hard sometimes he could get a slight hint of shape to the faceless blurs around him. 

It’s fine, he told himself for probably the thousandth time that day.

It wasn’t fine. Sure, he could make his way around the ship, fumbling his way from room to room by memory and feel. But once he was there he didn’t have much to offer. He couldn’t work in the lab. Experiments were off the table - literally if he was trying to do them. Just trying to clean basic equipment in the lab had resulted in two broken beakers before Lup kindly, patiently, but insistently suggested he leave the job to her. He couldn’t help look for the light. He couldn’t take notes on their observations. He couldn’t even help with chores around the ship!

Pushing open the fifth door on the left, he was alone, finally. Dark blur straight ahead was his bed and beige-ish blur to the left was his desk. And then the blurs were watery and the tears of frustration and self pity that he’d held off all week caught up to him. He leaned against the door and let his facade drop.

He was so tired of being a drain on the crew. Not being able to help, having to be looked after, and maybe worst of all, pretending it didn’t kill him by inches, pretending it was all just a silly thing to be joked away. ‘Barold bumping into things for three more months,’ wasn’t it hilarious? ‘Barry fell of the rock jetty, lost his glasses, almost died, and now he’s talking to the coat rack because he thinks it’s Lucretia.’

“Barry?”

Fear shot hot and electric through his body, startling him into embarrassed silence. He swabbed his hand over his face, trying to disguise the fact he’d been leaning against his door crying because he…

“Oh, fuck,” he said. “I went in the fourth door, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Lup answered. That one syllable was so patient and kind and understanding and honestly, it was just salt in his wounds. He didn’t want to be understanding about this whole thing and he really didn’t want Lup to be understanding about him bumbling into her room and having a breakdown.

“Sorry, I, just, um,” 

A blur separated itself from the bed-blur, straightened into a taller blur, and approached him. He could almost see the shape of her hair in her silhouette - it was loose, not braided was all he could make out - when she was close enough to take his hand. “C’mere,” she said, tugging him gently towards the bed-blur. “Hold on,” she said. The Lup-blur bent then straightened again. “Don’t want you tripping over my boots,” she explained. There was a clunk to his right and he assumed she’d tossed the shoes towards the wall to get them out of the way.

It was disconcerting, being pulled into a sitting position on Lup’s bed. Their rooms were arranged identically, looked identical to his unassisted vision, and sitting on her bed was, in theory, no different than sitting on his own.

Except it was. It wasn’t his bed, it wasn’t his room, and worse - oh so much worse - it was Lup’s bed in Lup’s room. His face was burning and his stomach was winding itself into furious little knots and dammit, he hadn’t thought he could feel worse than he did three minutes ago but, look at that!, here he was sunk lower than the freezing point of mercury. 

“I didn’t mean to bug you,” he mumbled, eyes aimed at the floor or where the floor was if he could at least be trusted to get that right.

“Hold still,” she tells him. Then she’s pushing the hair back from his forehead and there’s a weird sensation, like a pinching pull that doesn’t quite hurt but it’s just so odd he can’t figure out what’s going on.

“Stop frowning!” she tells him, her voice colored with laughter. “I’m just clipping your hair back.”

“Why?” he asks before he can stop himself. He feels like he’s three steps behind what is happening.

“Because we’re doing face masks.”

“What?”

“Relax,” she tells him. 

And for some strange reason, he does.

 ---

 They’ve been alone. Over the years, in a dozen planar systems, across doomed worlds, in forgotten ruins, or just in the lab working silently, they’ve been alone.

They’ve been alone. Over the months of study and composition and practice. They’ve been alone, just the two of them and their music filling the empty room, no witness to the way the notes have been building and the music has been building and the way the tempo has somehow gotten slower. Here at the end, right next to each other, a pair of pathways that have wound ever closer over the years, the paths have almost joined and yet.

And yet.

They meander these last months. Dancing closer and closer but not touching, not mingling, not yet. 

Each step forward slower and slower until the momentum is crawling forward, making the distance of a few inches last and last.

They are alone together on stage. 

There are so many around. Instructors and audience and all the people that it takes to keep an infrastructure like this running: janitors and receptionists and the guy that refills the coffee machine in the fourth floor break room. Anyone in hearing distance that day notices. It’s like that sometimes. You can go weeks and months and nothing sticks, even the pieces that get rebroadcast, they run together at some point. It’s beautiful, amazing, but there’s filters to restock and inquiries to respond to. There’s a leaky water heater that needs tending to. But for a minute, you stop, lean on the broom and take notice.

But not Barry and Lup, alone, finally, despite the people surrounding them. Their music is still echoing around them when their hands find one another. 

Lup and Barry, alone on stage. Two paths that have run side by side, so close for so long, join at last.

There’s applause and then the song is sent out anew, reflected from deep within the mountain instead of from her violin and his piano. There’s applause and an empty stage.

Alone, finally.

 ---

 There’s a pillar of bone carved with arcane symbols. There on the hill, two people lean together, forehead to forehead. Further away another watches. But in this instant there’s no one else. Seven on this planet yes. Eight if you count their strange, duck loving new shipmate. 

But for now. On this hill. In this moment.

There are only two. 

Two liches.

Alone, finally, after years of study.

And then like so many times before, they pick up their responsibilities and work and pull it all back on like a costume they only ever drop for a little while.

In those moments they are alone.

 ---

 He’s alone.

This was the final place. It was supposed to be… 

His shoulders sag. It was supposed to be their happy ending, their settled-at-last, their no-more-running. 

But he woke up and she wasn’t there.

It felt different. He didn’t say it, but it did.

And then morning turned to day turned to week turned to months.

He’s alone.

 ---

 Exhaustion wears them down, hang like too-heavy cloaks on backs that can’t stand tall without her. 

He’d been alone.

But feeling the last of her disappear - the her that was only in his memories - he knows what alone really means. He can’t lose her that way, not again, not like this.

“Taako, k- kill me! Right now!”

 He’s falling.

Forgetting.

Forgotten.

Alone.

Final.

y

 ---

 He’s alone. There is so much that makes no sense. Three guys - one of them made of fucking wood if you could believe it - and him naked in a tank full of goo. 

Then he got in the one guy’s pocket? Somehow?

The details are fuzzy.

But dammit, he’s happy. Something feels right. After so long. (How long?)

He’s alone.

Alone, but -

Finally.

 ---

 Who’d have guessed this was a skill? The ultimate hangover and when you got that giant memory dump poured on you every time you did something stupid like fell off a cliff or didn’t bring enough water into the desert… well, you got better at it.

So while the others recovered, he was alone, the only one not under fire from a million contradicting thoughts.

Alone, Finally.

At the end.

And then… and then… his brain comes up empty at the thought. And then?

Alone?

 ---

 The pale green glow throws strange shadows across the cave. There was a ball of brilliant fire but, well, anchoring yourself in a body after a decade out of practice took some concentration. And he didn’t exactly have the concentration himself.

After so long. After everything. After endless nights in this very cave, planning and plotting and hoping.

Alone.

And then.

Finally.

Alone together.

[cutegirlmayra]

Hello mayra! :D I really love your works and appreciate all the effort you put into everything you write. Keep your head up bud, you're a great writer!! (Not sure if you're accepting prompts at the moment but I really love the concept of boom!sonamy meeting modern sonamy if you don't mind. The last one you did is my favorite of all, I just cant get enough, AAAA)

Thank you so much!

I’m ALWAYS accepting prompts. But getting around to them (especially with finals coming up) might be a challenge so please be patient if you send one. But I love receiving them when people say they’ve been inspired or are truly grateful to have something there to make their day. I’m overwhelmed and thankful that you think I’m a good writer!!! *more tears* Thank you kind, soul. Thank you!

(x)

Prompt:

Modern Sonic, upon witnessing the dimensional rift that Eggman’s bright idea of releasing a ten-thousand year old mechanical being created, watched in horror as the Being flung Amy up in it’s hand.

His head quickly followed the action, standing in the space where all dimensions intersect.

“AMY!”

He raced off towards the Being, and as it looked around, found an escape route.

Throwing Amy into one portal, he flew off into another.

“No!” Sonic leaped for the portal Amy was heading into, as her eyes flickered to life suddenly from being unconscious.

She looked around, before reaching and flailing her arms forward. “S-Sonic..! What’s happening!!!”

A huge light formed around them, sucking them straight in….

Somewhere off the coast of Sonic Boom’s Island, the two crashed into the jungles, as Boom!Eggman flinched from eating his crust-cut sandwiches.

He quickly turned from his umbrella table on the side, towards the top of his layer, before shrugging and turning back to his small meal.

He happily chew until his eyes widened, or at least, his glasses bulged and he slammed his fist on the table, turning back around and having his chair fall behind him.

“Muff-er-stuff-gr-light!” He chewed and swallowed all in the same mouthful.

Pointing to the light that flashed closed in the sky, he quickly raced to the edge of his lair and looked over, towards the jungle….

“Orbot! Cubot! I’ve had a vision!” He over dramatically raised a finger skyward, and then giddily ran in, before kicking the relaxing robots into gear. “Come on, you stupid nincompoops!”

“Offph! Ow..”

“Is that an oxymoron?” Cubot rubbed his head.

“No, Cubot. That’s just repeating the same meaning of a word twice.” Orbot rubbed his keister, or what metallic part was there to be called as such.

“Grr… An Oxymoron is someone who loses all the oxygen in their heads and becomes a moron. Quite like what you two will be if you don’t SCRAM!” Eggman leaned forward, yelling at the two as they hurriedly went to work, scurrying in by getting around him.

“But we’re not even fueled by Oxygen!”

“Shut up. Hmph. I want to find out what flew out of the sky. This could be my lucky day!” he beamed.

*somewhere in the jungles*

“Ow! My hair!”

“Your hair? My legs!”

“Offph! If you would have just turned a little to the left..”

“What!? You’re seriously going to judge my ‘rescuing you from certain peril from the sky’ diving skills? Now?”

Upside down, the two hung on extremely tangled vines, Amy having one hand to hold up her dress as the other was trying to fix her hair covered in leaves and contorted by vines.

She sighed when her three bangs were the only things loosened from her struggling, as Sonic bite and tugged on other vines to try and free himself a ways beside her. However, he just twirled and flung around till completely immobilized.

He blinked through the vines, and then started to struggle in panic at being completely unable to move.

“Sonic?” Amy called, the vine moving slowly so she couldn’t see what he was grunting about.

“Amy?”

A sound from below came up, as Sonic made a face, raising his eyebrow and looking down to see what strange presence mimicked his voice.

“Huh? How’d you get down?” Amy looked down, seeing a speck of blue on the jungle floor.

“When you’d start wearing an open dress?” Boom!Sonic had his hands on both hips, raising his own eyebrow to mimic Modern!Sonic’s.

The two then stared, as Amy’s eyes shifted back and forth to them.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” she suddenly screamed.

Her screams were only amplified when a boomerang slashed through her vines, having her fall and Modern!Sonic follow her in the decent.

“AHHHHHHH!!!” She waved her arms around, before summoning her hammer and hitting a tree.

Still screaming, she had flung herself to Modern!Sonic and grabbed him, which he wasn’t expecting so his own recovery from the fall was… well… um… hindered to say the least.

“Wha-what?!” Modern!Sonic, surprised by the sudden action, was slammed against another tree, and then hit a branch, and then into a lower branch… well, you see the pattern.

The whole time, he made sure he was getting hit, whether it was his head or back, to make sure Amy was safe as she clung onto him tightly.

The two fell into the arms of a humongous Boom!Knuckles, well, huge for them, as they both were being held by one of his arms.

“Woah, two Amy’s and Sonic’s! Is this some kind of promotional event?”

The two looked over to him, their eyes wide.

Amy screamed again and fell out of his arms, landing on her butt as she stared up at the giant Knuckles.

“K..Kn… Knuckles?!”

“The one and only!”

“Not only.” Modern!Sonic looked away, before using a hand to fling himself over Knuckles’s shoulders and landed behind him, dusting himself off.

“Where are we, anyway?”

“Look alikes?” Tails suddenly came out, examining the two, “You think Eggman made them?”

“Probably.” Boom!Sonic sped up to Modern!Sonic; having a hand to his chin and peering at him, he seemed to be puzzled at how different yet.. closely resembled the two did in fact look to each other.

Modern!Sonic remained calm, simply folding his arms and staring back at him.

Boom!Sonic copied this gesture.

Then Modern!Sonic stepped his feet apart.

Boom!Sonic looked at his feet, and then back at him, doing the same.

Suddenly, little by little, the two got into running positions, and their faces lit up with smirks.

“If you are a fake, then there’s no way you can beat my speed!” Boom!Sonic boasted.

“Heh. We’ll just have to see who the real faker is, then!” Modern!Sonic matched his confidence, and the two looked forward, racing off.

“Sonic? Sonic!!” Amy reached out for him, “Don’t leave me with these-! AH!”

Sticks suddenly jumped on Modern!Amy, making her shake around and wobble.

“Spies! Clones! Spy clones! Or just back-up organs raised by the government. Either way, I’m pretty sure they’ve escaped to start a new civilization together.” She raved a moment before examining Modern!Amy, opening her eyelid before leetting the two lids smack back together and then crawling around her shoulders while trying to figure her out.

Amy looked extremely uncomfortable, having her hands to her sides and shaking in fright.

“What is this thing and why is it crawling all over me..?” Her quivering lips trembled at the awkwardness as Sticks’s tail swished in her face while she studied the ‘hoop’ like design of her red and white dress.

“Sticks, they’re clearly not run away clones.” Tails gestured out, but then put a hand up to his head to scratch it in uncertainty. “As least… I don’t think so.”

In the distance, two streaks of blue could be seen, racing each other over perilous fleets of strength, stamina, and courage.

“Look, me and Sonic fell through a dimensional barrier of sorts. We’re sorry for being in his world and all but…” she gently… before forcefully, as if growing impatient, ripped Sticks off of her and then let go. Sticks dropped like a cat, and hissed at her, spiking her back up before going over to her friends, getting back up on two legs from being on all fours.

“She checks out clean.” Sticks folded her arms, nodding to Tails as Knuckles walked over them as well.

“She’s about as light as Amy too.” Knuckles commented, before leaning down and holding a hand over his mouth, trying to side-comment to Tails. “Though, with added ice cream ratio difference…”

“I can hear you!” Amy cried from in front of them.

“And better hearing skills…” Knuckles squinted his eyes, as if suspicious of her, and then leaned up as Tails rolled his eyes and went back to politely speaking to her.

“You said another world? Like… two universes?”

“I think so.” Amy pouted, still upset by what Knuckles had said as she self-consciously hugged her stomach. “I had one extra treat…” she whined.

“Onnnee extra?” Knuckles, folding his arms, leaned his head down and raised an eyebrow, doubting her. “A likely story.”

She whimpered, smiling nervously, before a gust of wind blasted dust at her and she covered her face and lowered her dress down.

The two hedgehogs, back from their little ‘outing’ had smoothly skid into place beside her.

Leaning over her, they began to argue. “I touchdowned first!”

“You and what other liar? I was clearly here first!”

“Me and my shoes do the eye-witnessing here, bub!” Boom!Sonic lifted his foot, shoving it in his face as Amy covered her face and moved away, not wanting to be apart of their banter.

Modern!Sonic shoved it away, smiling as if enjoying this ‘other self’, “Oh yeah?” The two started rough housing, laughing like long lost brothers, before turning a bit more aggressive.

“I’m the only Sonic!”

“Guess again!”

“Ah! You.. won’t… break me!”

Modern!Sonic had Boom!Sonic in a lock, as he pounded the ground but wouldn’t surrender.

“Ha-ha!” He suddenly spun, and pinned Modern!Sonic, whose back cracked as he laughed and got a second-wind from it, curling up to slide under his kneeling but parted legs, and throw him over his back once uncurled.

“OFFPH!”

“Boys! Settle down!”

The two suddenly stopped rough-housing, blinking as Boom!Amy came out of the bush.

“What on earth is going on here?”

Modern!Sonic couldn’t help but get distracted, not used to this kind of look for Amy, so he loosened his grip and leaned back…blinking in confusion.

She looked older… somehow.

He smiled suddenly, “Nice dress.” before Boom!Sonic spun up and whammed him in the face.

“Ha! Victory!”

Modern!Amy gasped, about to come closer when a pair of robotic hands gripped her mouth, making her unable to cry out and pulled her into the bush.

Distracted by this ‘new Amy’ Modern!Sonic got up, adjusted his quills to get the leaves out of them, and then stood before her.

Seeming charming, he grinned. “You must be the other Amy.”

“Other… Amy?” she was confused, looking him over to before back at her Sonic. “What’s going on? Eggman?”

“It’s always pointin’ fingers at Egghead. But no one listens to the counter-argument of the feds!” Sticks complained, throwing her arms out as if this should be common knowledge and she, somehow, only knew the truth.

“Hey, Ames, real talk.” Boom!Sonic pushed her away from Modern!Sonic, which made him look a bit surprised that he was so direct with her, even making nicknames or pushing her away like that.

“This guy is pretty slick. He’s definitely got my speed and attitude. But from another world? Come on! I’m still the only dashing hero around here, am I right?” he looked to his friends for validation, but they all just kinda stared at him and ignored his ego for a moment.

“I think we should help them out.” Tails chimed in.

“HEY!” Boom!Sonic threw his arms down, upset by the deliberate ignorance.

“I agree.” Boom!Amy nodded, “Poor things. All the way from one world to another… how’d this happen?” She put her hand to her heart, as Sticks explained.

She rolled her eyes, “doohickey from the sky I spotted turned out to be a magic portal or something. That’s what I guess, anyway.”

“Magic portal?” Tails looked skeptical of her, and she growled to him.

“Hey, I don’t call your ‘physics’ spells ludicrous.”

“That’s because they’re not!”

“Heh, funny crowd we got here, huh, Amy?” Modern!Sonic smiled at the lovable cast, before angling himself to where he supposed Modern!Amy was.

“Think we better leave this world to it’s self and-” he turned around, but was immediately aware of her being gone.

“Amy?” he scanned around, “AMY!” he suddenly bolted off into the brush.

“Huh?” The Boom team turned around, before following after him.

“W-wait for us!” Knuckles cried out, as everyone raced after Modern!Sonic. “I haven’t asked about what I’m like in your world yet!”

Eggman kidnaps Modern!Amy, but is surprised by how sweetly she comes off, but she deceives him as he lets her go for a ‘Capture Tea-party’ she explained HER Eggman hoisted for her when he usually captured her. Getting out of her cell, the energy beams takin’ down, she suddenly turned violent and started destroying the place.

 Eggman shrieks and ducks, freaking out, as Orbot and Cubot run around and then both jump to the same cover.

“Instead of hostage, she’s turned hostile!”

Modern!Sonic arrives first to the lair, hearing the sounds happening inside and smiling, knowing Amy’s got this one.

He folded his arms and relaxed, as the Boom team came up from behind him. He looked over his shoulder and grinned, thinking they were in for a treat.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Tails asked, as Modern!Sonic nonchalantly waved his hand.

“She’s fine~” he walked towards the entrance, whistling at the place as he looked over it. “This Eggman’s got a unique style, doesn’t he..? Takes out all the stops, huh?”

“He’s acting rather casual about this.” In a bit of frustration, Boom!Amy gestured upsetly towards Modern!Sonic, before placing her hands on her hips, glaring…

“Hey, maybe she’s just proven to be just as capable as you.” Boom!Sonic patted her shoulder, seeming relaxed too before excited to see this ‘heel-wearing Amy’ take out a whole lair!

The doors slid open as Modern!Sonic flinched, ready for anything before seeing Amy, and suddenly racing up to her.

“How was it?”

“Fun. You?” She swayed her arms, happy to see him relaxed. That let her know he trusted in her.

She giggled and moved closer, “You weren’t too worried, were you?”

He nervously stepped back, “Uhh… Of what? You’ve handled bigger breakouts.” He stepped slightly forward towards her to gesture a thumb behind himself at the rather small lair.

“Definitely not as hard as I’ve had it.” She rolled her eyes, before Eggman’s head stuck out from the carcasses of busted robots.

“N-not even a little hard?” His mustache slopped in disappointment before the door slammed shut and he shouted out, “I TOO AM JUST AS FRIGHTENING AS ANY OTHER DIMENSIONAL MEEE!!!!”

“The dimensional him must be terrifying.” Tails walked up, as Modern!Amy shook her head.

Sonic and her both said together, “Not in the slightest.”

Boom!Amy moved up to Modern!Amy, suddenly noticing how close the two were standing together, and for a moment… a girly hope traced her eyes before Modern!Amy turned around, and she stood up straight and then giggled nervously, trying to look away and act like she wasn’t staring.

“S-so… ehem. You two good friends?” She batted her eyes, innocently.

Modern!Amy happily raised a curious eye, and then jumped to hug her Sonic.

“Oh~ You know we’re just the grea-grea-greatest!”

“Ah! A-Amy..!” Modern!Sonic didn’t like the shaking of her hold on him, swinging him back and forth before ducking her head under his and popping it up, grinning happily.

The cute action made Boom!Sonic step back, a bit shocked at the gesture as Modern!Sonic just looked away, seeming slightly awkward before looking at Boom!Sonic’s nervousness.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh! Uh, nothing!” Boom!Sonic waved his hands out in front of him, denying any emotion previously upon his face. “You two just look… uh… close.”

The avoidance of his stature and eyes made the two Modern!Couple look to each other, and then to their other selves.

They smiled secretly to each other, as if knowing something the other two didn’t know, and parted just slightly, while Modern!Sonic kept an arm around Amy, and gestured to Boom!Sonic.

“So. Your dimension doesn’t do hugs?”

“H-huh?”

He laughed, “Sounds like my kind of world!”

“Oh you.” Modern!Amy playfully pushed him away, before swaying herself up to Boom!Sonic. “Such a shame… you really are kinda…” she lowered her head down, and peeked up at him, leaning forward before her kind smile suddenly turned wicked.

“Huh?” he leaned back, blushing slightly.

“CUTE!” she leaped, as Boom!Amy about lost her wits and fire rose around her at this other Amy cuddling up to HER Sonic.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Boom!Amy shook, her eyes twitching, but trying to remain calm.

Modern!Sonic moseyed along behind her, giving her a sinister look before leaning up to the side of her by her ear, “I think you’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

She suddenly froze up, freaking out without a sound, but jolting in place with her hair on it’s ends as Modern!Sonic smirked and made his way back to his Amy.

“Alright, Amy. Leave the poor kid alone.”

Modern!Amy smiled back to her Sonic, before releasing Boom!Sonic who proceeded to clutch his chest and breathe.

“Opps~ Sorry~” she batted a hand out, trying to play it off by being cute. “You were just so irresistible!”

She covered her face and swayed back and forth, as the rest of the Boom team looked shocked and awkward but Sticks, who looked deadpanned in a sense.

“Hmm. I could of sworn he’d give in first.”

The team suddenly turned to her in even further shock, leaning away from her as if she just spoke blasphemy.

The Modern duo started to advance away, smiling to one another as if they had fun, before looking to the skies…

“If I know anything about Tails…” Modern!Sonic kept his cool demeanor and put a hand to his hip, looking to his buddy’s equivalent. “Think we could catch a ride in your plane?” he winked.

“Ah! He rides a plane too!” Tails’s tails flopped around in joy, as he bundled his fists up close to his face, fan-boying almost at this wonderful detail of some other world they were all starting to believe in.

Getting on the plane, Modern!Amy hugged Boom!Sonic one last time, swaying him around in her arms and being dramatic as she usually was with Sonic, not wanting to part as Boom!Amy twitched in rage, Boom!Sonic just being utterly confused before Modern!Sonic pulled her away and held her bridal style, looking back at the Boom crew.

“Stay cool!” he winked, and then saw the portal slowly opening again.

���Chaos!” Sonic cried out, jumping, “Control!”

“Chaos what?” The boom team repeated all together, as Amy and Sonic disappeared into the white light reforming…

[evilback-wards]

Day 1( don't. Read it's crap)

Heart Shaped Box prompt for Chemical Warfare Babies

… . .

…

.

Bing.

Surrounding Colline were suits. Large suits that had their cuffs tucked in. And the suits and Colline were in a carbon copy of the Oval Office: the assumed pinnacle of governmental grout.  Whispers were beginning to become full on conversations, mixing joy and hatred to copulate bureaucracy. The room was made with the construction of the original Oval Office in mind: wooden furnishings with uncomfortable couches, yellow curtains, flags from the galaxys’ visiting for todays discussion, old paintings from Earth, and, per the tradition of the planet, vibrate velvet blue fur to keep temperatures warm.

“You know, these humans didn’t know shit. They just existed. It’s kind of adorable,” says a suit, blue one—cuffs hidden by the darkness naturally exuded by their species. Blue dark suit darkness speaks to flapper imitator. The flapper imitator has the roaring 20’s down to the overabundance of happiness before a terrible downfall.

“So much can be learned from them! I’m excited for the fanfare that’s promised for today. Planet 00242192 always has the best shows,” flapper imitator said, fanning itself with some nearby wind. Ah—Colline was just about done dolling herself up for the show. Colline was a suit but also rare personnel that practiced the Earth culture seriously.

There was no light speed fast enough, quick enough, hurried enough to get the Earth stockholders into a room quicker than today. There was an e-mail that was pushed out that stressed the importance of everyone answering her communication. And the stockholders knew not to fudge their chance to speak to their cash cow—and came dressed for the occasion.

Besides flapper imitator, darkness creator, logic deeper, power steeper, gravel keeper, and naval peeker went more for tropes for their manifestations. Ones physical manifestations can leave a lot to be desired if chosen incorrectly on a planet. Colline was a tough customer—judging critically based on ones physical manifestations. It could be assumed that Colline would buy your stock just for matching the wrong century of sock with hair piece.

There was a long allotment for sound in English chatter, allowing the awkward language to leave from whatever orifice the creature utilized for speaking.  Colline stayed silent. Colline was listening for the truth, whatever that may be.

But, once Colline started tapping on the large light box, which triggered the lighting in the room to be lowered completely, people hushed themselves. It was now time for the show.

Dear Diary:

I had sex with a lot of people today. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. But people forgive pretty easily, right? People will pass you on the street and forgive you for uglying the landscape? People will nod to you even when they are disgusting by the stench of your existence? Remember, if someone holds their nose against their clothing, you’re repulsive. You need to leave them right away. Humans have a tendency of keeping things too nice. Don’t be that way. If you hate someone let them know right away. So the proper fighting can happen. I’ve been dragged along the concrete too long with so many of my clients. They claim I’m ‘love at first sight’ when it’s really ‘cum at first sight’.

Not to knock my knack of doing things to sexually stimulate the creatures, but it gets tiring. Suck Suck. Fuck Fuck. It becomes natural. I am natural. So, I guess I talked myself out of feeling guilty for being an escort—yay! Now I can move on to write more interesting things.

My latest conquest is of someone at my same level. His name is CJ(god knows what that stands for) Byrant. He enjoys escorts as much as anyone. He runs through about fifty every seven days(a week!) and pays each of them handsomely to keep their mouths shut. I heard the last escort that tried to make a scandal happened became the next murder mystery scandal. Ah—I love me a good scandal! That person is dead because they spoke improperly. This person is tortured for being too honest. I love scandals! They are the hole to human virtue.

This is getting rambly, but since it’s MY DIARY, I can be rambly. Hm. New conquest: CJ Byrant likes his escorts like he likes his government: easy to leave in the late afternoon and hard to come in during the mornings. Get it? Yeah—a gay joke I think that was. But that’s just not any type of gay joke—it’s a funny one! I hope. Is my existence making you want to kill yourself yet? If so, I apologize, if not, what is wrong with you? I am extremely cringy and filled with too much hope. The best I have to aspire for is waking up with fresh egg whites on my tits. Maybe there’s a druggie cig hanging from my lower lip that CJ takes drags out of sometimes. I hope I’m good enough to be a night escort. Those are the best—the people make you breakfast usually and ask if that’s how humans would do it. The best thing about humans is that you just don’t know what they would do—they’re born with their own will and predetermined set of ignorance. It’s so cute!

Anyway, I am struggling right now. CJ Byrant is a tough cookie. I’ve been making sure my ass is in the perfect view of his eyesight. But he just clears his throat or insists that “he’ll get that”. What type of government official does he think he is? That’s really silly, you know, to have this façade of being such a respectful man only to turn out to be the kind of guy that needs to cum twice in your eyes and scrub your face into the concrete and call you his long lost rapist. Whoops. Secrets are being let out tonight. I apologize.

CJ Byrant thinks me being an Earth-informed person makes it okay. It makes him okay to treat me like a human male but—hold it—he doesn’t reap the benefits of having such an Earth-human-whore to push around. I could be his little blow doll. My mouth is already open way too often. That’s why I pay men to close it with their intimates. Or sometimes with an object or five if they’re feeling excitable that day.

I love being this whore life has made me to be. It’s easy, easy money, easy way of living. I just can’t think too hard or I’ll burst into tears. Ahh!—Thinking should hurt me! I wish each time I had a critical thought someone hit me upside the head with a brick. I shouldn’t be allowed to think—no, never—thinking is bad. These guys, when they look for escorts, look for the dumbest and best manifested. I need to retain my own view of my life as much as possible. I can’t let CJ treat me like the garden tool I am. Now I’m making puns—I must be reaching critical mass of funnies.

Ahh, it’s been nice writing this, but around now, I need to make a bad decision. Just like the cycle of abuse, a clock, a never-ending cycle of wander and blunders, I must do something completely terrible. Because that’s how Earth-human-whores act. And I love being an Earth-human-whore.

 The lights come back. The suits are struggling to retain a boisterous laughter. The suits flicker into manifestations of humans, a nice spread between the centuries. Colline smiles as she raises her digital grey camera.

“God, that was hoot! The girl is so brain-dead she can’t even keep secrets out of her diary! It’s like her vagina wrote the entire thing,” Flapper imitator says, with her lips out. Smoke drags itself past her lips and into the Oval Offices’ space. Other creatures struggle to retain their laughter and comments. Colline remains silent, snapping pictures of everyone at their moments of happiness, dressed down in their humanoid dresses. Their barcodes showing—oh sweet barcodes! These are important. I’ll explain why they’re important.

 Barcodes are assigned to every creature created on the planet known as 00242192. The English pronunciation of the numerical expression is often shortened as Capital Pra. Pra is a weird name, isn’t it, for this shit to be occurring on? With blue velvet carpet to be in a Oval Office to keep up temperature—because—humans are too stupid to find out how to work machines to heat them better.

Barcodes, okay, back to the point. Barcodes are assigned to anyone born on this planet as a discreet and personal number. Buuuut. Because anything created is sentient and has their own free will, and to keep privacy up, the placements of the barcode is random. Sometimes you’re lucky and its on your left ass check if you ever manifest an ass cheek. Issue one: Sometimes you’ll manifest and manifest and you can’t find the barcode of yours for the life of you. Issue two: If you don’t know what the fuck your barcode is, well, you’re screwed.  Your mark as a Triple O’ 9 and told to fuck off into the darkness. You’re labeled as uncooperative in this nook of the galaxy or universe or whatever you wanna see this place as.

Barcodes are an arrangements of lines from 5 cm to 5 inches that can be as short as 2 and as long as fifty on ones body. What—why are people born with these—the best answer I can give you is that that’s just how the machine works. And no one knows why. Maybe no one wants to know why. But anyway.

Barcodes are used to keep track of the population and employment of people born on Pra. And, to be more culturally sensitive, what percentage of people follow what culture. As a new born jelly mass, you don’t know anything. You don’t even know that your jelly form is offensive as you’re basically just a naked new born baby without culture! SO, let’s review:

1.Born as a jelly with a barcode

2. Get culture

3. ???

4. You live until you die under your cultures conditions

Sounds simple, but people like to make it complicated as shit. Like, who the hell even wants to stick to one culture? Who would want to? Even subcultures of your culture get boring. So many people just up and switch cultures when it gets close to their time. Some beings born with 3 barcodes still exist because they’re “lifers” for culture.

[autumnhobbit]

Tim and Dami prompt, what about the family is in the manor, and there's a really nasty thunderstorm. And Dami isn't used to them, cause where he's from they don't really have thunder and lightning so he freaks out. And he's used to running to Dick, so he does but he goes into Tim's room instead, just kind of dives in the bed with Tim. And after the usual posturing Tim lets him settle in and when they're asleep they cuddle. Dick goes looking for Dami, finds them and ends up leaving them alone

The colossal crash of the entire world shaking on its axis woke Damian in a panic, and Alfred the cat went running off, screeching the whole way. Damian felt immediately guilty for that; Titus was bouncing around on his toes, suddenly awoken from his own slumber. Aside from that, his room was empty.

Blinding light sliced in through the glass and turned the space into a chiaroscuro of sharp lines and jagged shadows, and only a split second later the window rattled with the force of the thunder. Damian was out of his bed and halfway down the hall before he realized he had moved.

His feet slowed suddenly, and he staggered, the rug getting caught up beneath his feet as he skidded to a pause. Grayson’s closed door stood in front of him. He wanted more than anything to go running in and curl up in the safety of his older brother’s side, but…he couldn’t bring himself to. He swallowed hard, pain joining the fear in the staccato beat of his heart. He went two strides towards Father’s room, but then paused; Father was injured and still down in the Cave, on oxygen and an IV.

A huge gust of wind howled outside, the frame of the house whining, and another boom rattled the window. Damian pivoted and ran down the hall, bursting into another room and leaping into the bed.

“What the–!” Tim yelped hoarsely as Damian landed beside him, missing him by inches. “What–?”

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian bit out, his voice shaking. The idea of going back to his room to lick his re-opened wounds and to sleep off his embarrassment in peace was tempting, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Tim sighed. He pushed himself up on his elbow, and got a firm grasp on the blanket, tugging it from beneath Damian’s stiff form. He then flipped the corner up, and Damian scrambled beneath it. Tim tucked it over him with another stifled sigh.

“It is kind of scary. Should pass over soon, though.” He eased himself back down onto his back. “I checked the radar. Not any tornado risk or anything.”

“Tt.” Damian muttered. “As if I would be afraid of a tornado.”

Yeah, well with what you’ve seen in life, a tornado is child’s play. Tim bit his tongue, sighing. “You didn’t go with Dick?” He asked, unnecessarily.

Damian shook his head, his bangs tickling Tim’s arm.

Tim sighed again.

There was a beat where the only noise came from outside.

“He lied to me,” Damian said in a tiny voice. “He lied to us.”

Tim closed his eyes. “I know.”

“He can’t just step back in and act like nothing changed, when he, he–” Damian’s voice was rising with broken anger. “He wasn’t here! W-we needed him and he wasn’t–”

“Yeah,” Tim said quietly.

Another pause.

“He…he was my Batman.” Damian whispered brokenly, and Tim felt Damian’s lashes brushing his arm as the boy blinked rapidly. “I thought he trusted me. I thought he…” the child gulped. “I thought he loved me.”

“Gah, Damian.” Tim groaned, rolling onto his side to face the sniffling lump under the blanket. “He does love you.”

“Why would he d-do that if he did?” Damian demanded hotly, voice wet. “Mother lied to me. That’s not h-how love is supposed to work.”

“No, it’s not.” Tim agreed. “But sometimes it just winds up that way. People make mistakes, Damian. Even when they really do care. That doesn’t make what they did okay, but…”

Damian turned his head, and flipped the blanket up so his face was showing. “But what?” He grumbled, his face tear-streaked and his button nose red. He would have looked comical if he didn’t look so genuinely wrecked, and Tim swallowed hard.

“Look. He loves you. I know you love him, or you wouldn’t be so upset. Just…you don’t have to forgive him right away. Maybe just…give him the chance to make it up to you. Okay?”

Damian puzzled it over for a moment, brow wrinkled. Tim sighed a bit and closed his eyes. He was still tired, actually…

“What about you?” Damian demanded out of nowhere.

Tim’s eyes blinked back open, and rolled to glance at Damian. The boy looked indignant and still quite angry. “What?” Tim asked, feeling kind of brain dead. Goshdarn three in the morning.

“Aren’t you angry?”

“Hell yes,” Tim responded instantly. “I’m fucking furious with him. You are aware I haven’t spoken to him either, beyond the initial shoutfest.”

“And?” Damian prodded.

“And I’m probably not going to forgive him at any point in the next month, at least, barring any life-or-death crises,” Tim shrugged. “I’ll probably eventually bury my resentment back in the corner of my brain that’s activated by lack of sleep or caffeine.”

Damian wrinkled his nose. “So, you never forgive anyone?”

Tim shrugged. “Guess it depends on your definition of forgiveness. I don’t forget what people did to me, per se, and I definitely don’t stop being angry about it, but…dude. If I went around angry all the time at everyone who’s wronged me, I’d never speak to anyone in this entire city, ever. Except maybe Alfred.”

Damian seemed vaguely startled by this statement, and then a little dejected, dropping his gaze to the bedsheet and slumping down a bit. Tim realized that that statement would probably include Damian, and he stifled a groan of frustration and went on. “It’s just a sucky way to function, Damian. You have to move on at some point or you’ll never get anything done. You either resign to hate Dick for the rest of your life, or you resign to find a way to forgive him. Those are the options.”

Damian curled on his side and sniffled, freeing one fist to scrub at his bright red nose. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Well right now, I kind of want to sleep.” Tim said tiredly. He patted Damian’s hand, and rolled over, tugging a bit more slack in the blanket. “You don’t have to decide right away, Damian,” he said sleepily over his shoulder.

“…I suppose,” Damian mumbled after a minute, when Tim was already half-asleep. There was a rustling noise as the boy settled down in the blankets.

____

Dick wandered out of his room a few minutes before the sun rose, having woken up around an hour before and been unable to get back to sleep. He stepped quietly over the squeaky spots as he wandered down the hallway, tracing his hand lightly along the wall. He hadn’t been home in so long, and there were times he’d wondered if he’d ever see it again. Odd, he reflected, as he ran his fingertips along the edge of a small rip in the wallpaper that had somehow escaped Alfred’s notice. He somehow felt it should have changed, but everything was the same.

He paused in front of Damian’s bedroom door, which was shut. He swallowed hard. Damian was afraid of thunderstorms; it was a fact he’d discovered early on in the boy’s run as Robin, and in his first days at the Manor. He’d thought about Damian last night, as the rain pounded on the rooftop, but he’d been too cowardly to go and check on him and get the door slammed in his face. He knew he deserved it, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear, especially when he’d missed Damian so much.

He hesitated for a moment. He could lean in and check on Damian, at least. He was probably still asleep. He could just peek in and make sure Damian was okay, then make his escape and go downstairs for breakfast or go down to the Cave to train, or something. His days seemed so much emptier when none of his siblings were willing to talk to him. Swallowing, he carefully grasped the handle to Damian’s door and turned it, cautiously sticking his head inside.

Damian’s bed was empty.

Oh great. Dick felt his pulse speeding up. Damian had a tendency to hide when he was upset, and with Bruce hurt and Alfred occupied, he could be anywhere by now. He pivoted and hurried towards Tim’s room. Tim was still mad at him, but he didn’t think Tim would refuse to help if it was about Damian. He pushed through the door quickly–

And came to a full stop as he saw Damian curled on his side, a pressure mark from the wrinkled bedclothes worn into his round cheek, his expression peaceful as he slept. Tim was rolled on his side, an arm thrown across Damian’s small body, holding him on the bed, protective.

Dick swallowed hard, unsure of whether he should feel warmed or chilled. He felt a mix of both, honestly. He loved both his younger brothers so much; it hurt to see them hate each other when they started off. He’d tried. He knew he hadn’t done anywhere near a good enough job, but he’d tried to fix their relationship as best he could, keep them from killing each other while trying to teach them to get along.

And now they both hated his guts. But…at least they were getting along.

Silently, he took a step into the room, leaving the door open behind him. He quietly moved towards the bed, and grasped the blanket, which had been dislodged somehow over the course of the night, and pulled it up and tucked it over Damian and Tim. He leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to Damian’s cheek, and to Tim’s temple. Then he straightened up and headed back into the hallway, casting a wistful glance behind him.

He hoped….he hoped, that someday, by some miracle, his little brothers would forgive him. He missed them so much, it hurt, and being in the same house made it even more painful. But for now, it was probably best just to leave them be.

(Ao3 link here.)