#never gave this ship half a thought before and yet my initial reaction was somehow TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

don't know why or how Bugs Bunny X Daffy Duck has slowly & insidiously infiltrated my dash but sure why the hell not i support my boys what's the registry link

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Hogwarts No.1 Ship

Fandom: Harry Potter  Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader Word count: 3.4k Summary: You - Rubeus Hagrid’s niece and a surprising slytherin - have a crush on the Slytherin prince himself, but you are sugar and he is spice and there is no world where the two of you would fit together...right? Warning: Swearwordsm concussion, broken bones, but mostly fluffffffffff Requested by the amazing and patient (I’m really sorry it took so long) @onlycherryblossom​: Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you could right a Draco Malfoy x Reader. you know, the one we talked about. It'd be so awesome! i hope you have a good day/night! (I won’t put our chat in here so that I don’t spoiler anything)

Hogwarts had rarely ever known two students who were as opposite to each other as Draco Malfoy and Y/N Hagrid. Draco - who was the embodiment of how people imagined the stereotype of Slytherin to be - was (most of the time) a prideful, cold, unempathetic prick, while you were a selfless, positive thinking, kind and gentle soul that could‘ve been a descendant of Helga Huffelpuff herself. The two of you did have one thing in common though. Your house. The hat had made you both into Slytherins which was on Draco’s side not surprising at all, but quite a shock for everyone who had talked to you for even a minute. Probably the biggest shock was courtesy of Rubeus Hagris - Half-Giant and your adopted uncle (on his father’s side) - who insisted that the hat must have made a mistake, but was quickly shot down by Dumbledoor who assured that the hat didn‘t make any mistakes. After some initial tumbling though, Hagrid realized that the house didn‘t make the person and that it didn‘t matter in what house you were sorted into, you’d always be his little pumpkin. And he was quite right. Even after you had been a Slytherin for just about five years, you had only grown more kind and loving - having bonded with many people in the other houses and years, but not quite as many in your own house. You’d call Blaze and Millicent maybe something close to friends and Pansy tolerated you which is why you gave her the title of ‘good acquaintances‘, but other than that you didn‘t really have a lot of contact with them in your free time. The most complicated relationship you held though was the one to the aforementioned Draco Malfoy. In a weird twist of fate the two of you somehow became the main ship in Hogwarts (with Harry and Ginny or Harry and Hermione as close second) even though you couldn‘t remember more than two or three times that you had talked to the boy outside of a classroom or study environment. Sure, he had never bullied or teased you which already differentiated you from most of the students, but you simply explained it by the fact that you were a good student - especially in potions class - and behaved well enough to gain a number of house points which made you into a good asset to Slytherin and as such made you a less logical target. Now all in itself that would‘ve been more than fine with you, but for some stupid reason your heart decided to betray you against it‘s better judgement and fall for him. Somehow, even after years of seeing him kick others down and behave like a complete douchebag you couldn‘t help but blush slightly at the mention of his name and feel your heart flutter when you walked by him in the hall or in the common room. The worst part was in potions class where he sat right beside you after Snape deemed your former partner as way too unqualified for one of his best students and exchanged him for Draco. Working with him in and of itself was actually rather nice. He was a good student and did his work thoroughly and mindfully, but you found it hard to concentrate when his hand brushed yours as you read a passage in the book or when he poured ingredients in the coultron that you were stirring. You really tried to ignore your feelings and ban every thought of him, but it seemed like you weren‘t doing the best job at it since your uncle kept asking about what it was that was distracting you all the time. On a rainy October day fairly at the beginning of your fifth year you decided you had enough. You were sitting in your Uncles hut with a plate of more or less edible cookies in front of you and a cup of something that was surely supposed to be tea when you finally gathered the courage to say what you had been meaning to say for weeks now. “Uncle Rubeus, can I ask you something?” Hagrid turned to you with his usual smile as he patted fang who was drooling all over his lap where he had laid his head. “Course ya can pumpkin. What’s it about?” “Uhm...well… you know there is this boy that I-“ “Ohhh Ah see,” Hagrid quickly interrupted you before you could even ask the question, “Ya know, usually I’d be more than happy to help ya with every question you have but ah really don’t thin’ I’m the right person for this, I’m sorry.” A little bit disappointed but not really surprised you just sighed and shook your head, telling him that it was okay, before bidding your goodbyes and making your way back to the castle quietly mulling over what exactly your plan b should be now that plan a had failed and you still had no idea what to do with or how to get rid of your stupid crush on Draco.

“You know what I would do if I were you?“ Ginny asked and pointed the end of her quill at you. The both of you were sitting in a corner of the library where you had planned to help her study for her upcoming potions exam, only for her to basically interrogate you until you admitted that you had an unlucky crush, even though she luckily hadn‘t pushed you to tell her who the guy you had a crush on was. “I‘d probably just tell them, I mean what do you have to lose. Either he‘ll say yes and you‘re happy or he says no and you just avoid him like he doesn‘t even exist - which would honestly be the appropriate reaction if he refuses a snack like you. See, no real downside to it.“ “Oh really? Hmmm, I wonder why you haven‘t told Harry how you feel yet then,“ you teased her and tapped your chin. Ginny‘s face immediately started to rival the colour of her hair and the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted reminded you of an overgrown toddler - but in a cute way. “I-I don‘t like Harry, okay? I mean I did when I was like ten because he was famous and I was a child,“ she tried to make sure you really knew how silly she wanted you to believe she thought it was by drawing out the word child for a good few seconds before rolling her eyes and looking to the side, “And anyway, it‘s not like he‘d date his best friend’s sister…“ “Oh Gin,“ you immediately felt bad and grabbed one of her hands with yours, “Have you looked at yourself? You‘re amazing and if Harry doesn‘t see that through his stupid invisible cloak and these glasses than he doesn‘t even deserve you.“ “Even though I admit that yes, I am amazing, this isn‘t the topic that we should be conversing about right now, remember? I think there‘s a certain blond Slytherin that you should be worried about more right now.“ Immediately blood shot right to your cheeks and you quickly looked around to make sure no one could‘ve heard her before leaning forward and hissing: “What? No? I don‘t like Draco? Why would you even think that? I never said that he is the one I have a crush on.“ Ginny just raised her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner, leaning back in her chair and picking the quill back up to play around with while she talked. “Listen honey, I‘m not judging you or anything. Don‘t get me wrong, I still and probably will always think Draco is a major asshole and doesn‘t even deserve to breath the same air as you-“ “He isn‘t that bad…“ “Yes he is, but anyways, no matter what I think of him I also know that you are a clever girl that knows how to protect herself and who knows, maybe you‘d even have a good influence on him.“ Images of you and Draco together with your friend group laughing and having fun crossed your mind and you could feel your heartbeat fasten involuntarily. “That‘s all great and good, but like I said, I don‘t have a crush on Draco,“ you gave the hope of getting out of this situation with the lie you‘ve been telling yourself for months still intact one last try, but Ginny didn‘t give it the time of day. “Oh please, I see the way you look at him in the dining hall and how your eyes are always on him when he‘s playing quidditch and just now you defended him even though the two of you aren‘t even friends. My love-radar is pinging like crazy around the two of you which is why I, Ginny Wealey also known as the love witch-“ “No one calls you that,“ you interrupted her only to be shushed by an evil glare. “I, Ginny Weasley, will help you in fulfilling your desire and getting together with Draco and I already have the perfect plan.“ “No no no no, please don‘t! Don‘t do this! Ginny no!“ you tried to make your point clear but she was already cleaning up her stuff and getting ready to leave. “Don‘t worry oh sweet Y/N, the next time we‘ll talk everything will be set in motion,“ she winked before dashing off leaving you standing in her figurative dust with your mouth agape for a few seconds before you let your head sink onto the table. This would definitely take an interesting turn…

After that you definitely started to actively avoid Draco which was - surprisingly enough - not as easy as you thought. Somehow he was almost always at least in your near vicinity. Besides the obvious factors of class (where you tried to focus on working and on praying whatever Ginny had planned wouldn‘t happen) and when you were eating in the great hall (where you had resorted to sitting at the very end of the table as far away from him as possible) he seemed to also be there in your free time. You were relaxing in the common room? He was there reading a book. You were outside with Harry and co.? Guess who’s coming their way to insult them (while not saying a single bad thing about you). By now there were just about three places where you were sure that he wouldn’t be able to pop up at any given moment. Your room, the bathroom and the potions classroom on Wednesday and Friday afternoon when class has already ended. After Snape had realized that he had some real potions-potential sitting in front of him he offered you extra credit as some sort of teaching assistant which basically meant that you helped him prepare lessons, helped him grade the first to third years tests and that you cleaned up and organized the potions classroom twice a week. Now usually, knowing that you were more than capable of handling the potions and ingredients standing around on your own after having seen you do it for a few months, you‘d be alone while you cleaned up except for the occasional visit of your professor to tell you which ingredients you should put on the students desks for the next class, but for some reason the next Friday - three days after Ginny had made her promise to you - the door already stood open and you could hear Professor Snape talking to someone. “I really expected better of you, your action is the reasons Slytherin has lost 50 housepoints and I hope you know that it is on you to gain them back, no matter your status,“ Snape‘s voice carried to where you stood and you wondered who the student was if Snape went so easy on them with his lecture. Usually you‘d be afraid for your life after losing even ten house points so getting such a calm reaction for 50 must‘ve really meant something. Your questions about the identity of the student were answered when you entered the dungeon room and immediately felt yourself freeze. Of course not even you (time dependent) sanctuary was safe anymore. Of course Draco just had to stand there and look at you without any identifiable emotion in his gaze. “Ah, Miss Hagrid, right on time as always,“ Snape nodded after he also noticed you and you felt slightly more at ease knowing that with him there nothing could really happen. “Should I come back later?” you asked politely, not sure if you had interrupted something. “No, you may stay. Mister Malfoy over here has got himself caught trying to sabotage McGonagall class, a childish act which I would’ve expected of the Weasleys but really not from you. As a punishment he will be the one to clean the potions classroom bi-weekly from now on until he has regained the house points lost. You’ll supervise him.” “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I understand.” “Malfoy will do all the cleaning but since he has no experience with it I can’t just leave him alone so, since you’d be here anyway, you can watch him and make sure that everything goes orderly.“ It wasn‘t really a question as much as a command, something that you were used to from Snape, so you just nodded and bid him goodbye as he went to his office, leaving you and Draco behind. By now you had seen through what was happening. This was Ginny‘s plan. Somehow she must‘ve managed to blame Malfoy for the prank on McGonagall - something rather extreme given the taken house points- hoping (or somehow knowing) that his punishment would force you to spend at least an hour with him alone in a dimmed room twice a week. Inwardly you cursed your friend, while outwardly you tried everything to avoid directly looking at Draco as you explained his tasks to him before you sat down at your usual place and pulled out a book really hoping you could get him to not talk to you that way. Either your plan was working great or Draco just really didn‘t care for you, because an hour later you still hadn‘t exchanged any words, instead he dutifully, but slightly pouting, had done his job while you shot him the occasional glance to make sure he was doing it correctly. “I think that was all, you should be good to go now,“ you told him with a small smile, relieved that you were finally free to leave the room and with that the tension that had built up inside you as a mix of nervousness and fear. Draco had opened his mouth to respond when a third year came rushing inside with at least twelve books in her arms that almost towered over her which she quickly placed on a table, slightly out of breath. “Professor Snape sent me. He said these have to be sorted and put away.” You could probably feel Draco’s sigh before he had made it and - not really fond of spending more time so frustratingly close to your crush and yet so far - you just nodded and told both of them that you’d take care of it and that they could leave, which both promptly did. You took the books and carried them to the back of the room where a sole, old bookshelf was standing - since the students mostly had their own books - and started putting them away when you heard a sickening crunch before suddenly the shelf including books came crashing down at you and before you could even think to pull out your wand, the world turned black.

“I’m so so so sorry, you were right I shouldn’t have interfered, if I’d just listened to you you wouldn‘t be lying here now,“ Ginny whined from beside your bed where she had been sitting for the past twenty minutes apologizing over and over again and blaming herself for the broken arm, leg and the concussion that had you unable to leave the infirmary for the next three days to a week. “Ginny, how often do I gotta tell you, it isn’t your fault! I would’ve sorted those books in anyways - no matter if you had pulled that prank or not - and it would’ve fallen anyways,” you tried to reassure her and gave her a soft smile. “But-“ “No but, okay? We can’t change the past anyways, and even if we could I wouldn’t because thanks to you, I don’t have to take that stupid DADA test.” Your attempt to lighten the mood seemed to work, because soon you and Ginny were back to your usual conversation-style and it relieved you immensely. It made you feel okay again. She was just telling you of a stung Harry had pulled in the Gryffindor Common room when she suddenly paused mid sentence and looked up. You followed her eyes to where they were placed firmly on a certain Platinum blond boy that looked simultaneously like he’d rather be everywhere else and like he was glad to be there, it was a sight to see. “I think I’ll leave for now, I’ll come back later with tons of sweets that Luna and I are going to steal from Harry’s personal stash,” Ginny said goodbye and gave you a wink as she walked away making you torn between wanting to roll your eyes and feeling yourself blush. Unsure of what to do next you motioned to the chair that Ginny had just occupied and Draco seemed to get the hint because he quickly sat down. “Hey-“ “Hi-“ “Sorry, you first.” “No it’s fine, you’re injured, you go first.” “Well, uhm-“ you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, “-I wanted to thank you, for bringing me here I mean, Madame Pomfrey told me you carried me all the way.” You looked away hoping that he wouldn’t see how nervous you were. “You don’t need to thank me, I couldn’t just let you lay there buried under books, your not Granger after all,” he said, seemingly trying to joke but immediately noticed that it was probably not the best thing to say given that you and Hermione were good friends. “Listen, what I came here for,” now it was Draco’s turn to take a deep breath, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but you were always with Potter or avoiding me or whatever, but after I saw you lying there… I guess I was just worried for you, I really don’t want you to get hurt.” Now that definitely caught your attention. For a second you played with the thought that this could possibly not be Malfoy but just someone else playing him with the help of polyjuice potion because he was definitely not acting like himself, but something in his word convinced you otherwise. “Thanks, I think, but would you mind me asking why? I mean...we’re not really the closest of friends,” you asked him, looking directly into his face to search signs of a possible answer. “Fuck it, I like you, okay? Happy?” You were completely stunned. Stunned, speechless, shocked. In all the time that you had been crushing on him you had never even really considered even the slightest possibility that he could reciprocate your feelings but now here he was telling you straight up. “You-You like me? Like like-like me?” You asked, just really wanting to be sure. There was a hint of nervousness and worry in his eyes, but he hid it behind a wall of annoyance. “You heard me, didn’t you? So, just get it over with, do you like me too or do you not, because if you don’t then I don’t want to waste my time any longer.” This definitely sounded more like the Draco you were used to and you had to giggle a little bit. “Yes, yes I like you too,” you confessed and like it was the most natural thing in the world you moved the uninjured hand over to where he laid on your bed and took it in yours. For the moment, you were caught in the shimmer of happiness and glee at having your crush there with you, definitely something more than your crush, and it would probably take a while until you‘d realize that there were some interesting things to follow, like telling your uncle about this for example...

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hi! I saw that you were interested in requests for Zelda x f!Reader, among others, so I decided to send something and I hope you don’t mind :) An idea based on „We all shipped them together before they made it official because she kept scoffing that she did not like her and yet she always looked at her first whenever someone told a joke just to see if she was laughing too” post I saw some time ago. Basically a reader who is much younger, more optimistic and affectionate than Zelda. Zelda initially maintains her facade, of course, and constantly denies being interested in her. However, everyone, and I mean really everyone, can see what it is really like and they are both just made for each other, despite their apparent opposites. Thanks in advance, have a nice day!

I was/am really nervous about this, but thanks for the prompt! I hope you like it, I wrote this in the middle of the night, while being absolutely sleep deprived. Hope you enjoy! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zelda disliked you from the very beginning, even though she wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was your happy-go-lucky attitude or the fact that you were so damn affectionate with everyone, that it almost made her sick. Well, everyone except herself, but she made sure that you understood that you wouldn't stand for such foolish actions. It was kind of pathetic, you hanging of Hilda as you did, and the way you always cuddled up to Ambrose and Sabrina. Who did you think you were, anyway? Nothing more but a nuisance, that's for sure. Zelda couldn't believe that she caved when Sabrina practically begged her to take you in.

Where exactly you came from was still shrouded in mystery. One day you just appeared in the woods, wounded and with amnesia. Of course, Sabrina had to take you in and now everyone was all over you and it annoyed Zelda to no ends. As soon as you got better and more comfortable around everyone, you were practically all over everyone, like a bitch in heat. You even tried to hug Zelda himself a few times, but she made sure that those notions wouldn't occur again. Still, you were so unbelievably nice and cheery, even to her. Disgusting.

You stared at Zelda, who seemed deep in thought and annoyed about something. You were pretty sure that that something was the fact that you were cuddled up to Hilda for some comfort since your night was plagued by nightmares again. Hilda took care of you when Brina brought you to the mortuary and you felt very much thankful for that. You didn't remember a lot of your life before you appeared out of nowhere and with no memories. All that you knew was that you were deadly afraid and hurting all over. Your body was covered in smaller wounds and half of your face was swollen, but the moment you laid your eyes on Sabrina you knew that you would be okay. She had a chaotic but albeit calming aura so you went with her willingly when she took you to her aunts.

At first, you met Hilda and her aura told you all you needed to know about her. She was a protector and she took you in without questioning, taking care of you as if you were one of her own. You trusted her immediately and especially after she helped you through your first nightmare. You met Ambrose next and even though he was cautious of you, he took to you rather fast. You were simply fascinated by everything he told you about magic and mysteries and he liked the audience. Brina and you became fast friends too, even though you didn't agree with everything she did. But she was sixteen and some teenage drama was expected. Especially after what she went through in the past months.

Brina was rather direct and you quite liked that about her. She was like a little sister to you, and she was the first one to muse that you weren't used to affection, which was why she gave it to you willingly. It was kind of cute to see your reactions to physical affection. She knew that it was unusual to trust someone so fast after everything that happened, but you were practically a cinnamon roll and no one ever sensed any weird vibes from you. Except for Zelda of course. But Sabrina had her theory about that...

When you and Zelda first met, the morning after Hilda took you in, you were captivated. You couldn't remember ever seeing a creature more beautiful than her. Her behavior and her aura were completely at odds around you and you wondered why. Especially since her familiar loved you to bits and pieces from the very beginning. Wherever you went, Vinegar Tom was sure to follow and you couldn't sit down without him jumping in your lap and curling up, demanding to be pet. Of course, that was just one more thing Zelda disliked about you. Everything was just affectionate with you, as you were with them, and Vinny's betrayal didn't make it any better.

But still, every time Ambrose told one of his stupid puns her gaze wandered over to you to see you laughing. Although it made her feel weird, she couldn't stop watching you. Just to make sure that you weren't up to something, of course. But everyone, really EVERYONE, had the audacity to imply that she, in fact, liked you very much. Which wasn't true at all. Not in a thousand years.

Her gaze was drawn to you again, as you made cooing noises at Vinny and played with him in front of the hearth, smiling affectionately.

“You're smiling, Zelds,” Hilda smirked and Zelda gave her the patented death glare.

“Whatever you are implying Hilda, I can assure you that it is all in your head,” Zelda huffed and hid behind her paper. Hilda had the audacity to giggle and Zelda gripped the paper just a bit tighter. She tried to ignore you for the rest of the morning, although she wasn't very successful.

“You want some more coffee?” you suddenly asked and leaned over her shoulder, placing your hand between her shoulder blades.

“Remove your hand or I'll cut it off of you,” Zelda just said haughtily, not liking the tingling feeling your hand evoked.

“Sorry, sorry, won't happen again,” you said and held your hands up in a nonthreatening gesture. Which somehow ticked Zelda off even more.

“Remove yourself from the kitchen right now,” she said for good measure and glared you down. Why the heavens did you get so under her skin with just existing? But what happened next shocked everyone deep down to their core. You started yelling.

“What is your fucking problem? Is the fact that I exist that bothersome to you? Why do you hate me so much, what did I ever do to you?! I go out of my way to stay out of your hair and you still so fucking everything you can to make me feel unwelcome! You agreed to me living here, so what. Is. Your. Problem?!” you yelled and to the mortification of everyone, including yourself, you started crying. You stormed out of the house and into the woods, frantically rubbing at your eyes, and before you realized what was happening, you were lost and the sun was disappearing behind the trees...

“Zelda Phiona Spellman! Was that necessary?!” Hilda yelled and glared at Zelda.

“I-I wasn't-”

“That was cruel, even for you Aunt Z,” Sabrina said and grabbed her coat.

“Oh no darling, you stay here. Zelda can go after her and set this right again!” Hilda growled and ripped the paper from Zelda's hands. She was so shocked that she complied and grabbed two coats before she went outside. It was early spring, but it still got cold at night. And Night it would soon be.

Zelda was shaken to her core. You were right, what was wrong with her? Why was she behaving like this, even though you never gave her any reason to? You have been nothing but nice to everyone, helping out where you could, and yet... Zelda felt not like herself around you and that made her angry. Irrationally so. But why? Why did she feel this way around you, the last time she felt like this was when she first met Mambo...oh. Oh no. It couldn't be... her problem wasn't that she disliked you... The problem was that she liked you a bit too much.

Her sub-consciousness must have been so scared of the fact, that it made her dislike you so much. She walked a bit faster after that realization, she had to find you and set things right with you. Apologize.

Zelda was almost frantically running through the forest, using a spell to trace your footprints, but you were faster than her and she cursed her heels. It was getting darker and harder to see, but Zelda knew the forest almost better than her own house. You didn't though, and Zelda found herself sick with worry. She was such a horrible person...

You were shivering in the cold evening, curling yourself into a ball to conserve body heat. You should have taken your coat with you, but you were so angry when you left the house. What exactly was Zelda's problem with you? What did you ever do to deserve such behavior?

You always noticed Zelda looking at you when she thought no one was looking. You even caught the odd smile, unconsciously thrown in your direction when you laughed or played with Vinegar Tom. You always thought that she was shy or something like that, that she liked you but wouldn't be caught dead admitting to it. You heard Hilda and Ambrose talking about how head over heels Zelda must be over you, with all that secret glances and small smiles and you hoped. Hoped, that when enough time passes and you proved that you could be trusted, Zelda would come to like you. Not necessarily as you liked her, but one could hope, after hearing Ambrose and Hilda talk about it, right?

But all your hopes were dashed earlier, when the situation escalated. You were probably no longer welcome at the Spellman house, but you didn't care. No one ever wanted you. You still hadn't got back all your memories, but enough to realize that you were never loved by anyone. Maybe you were too much. Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose would come to that realization too. So you should leave now, as long as it is still kind of your choice, but it was so cold, that you couldn't move a muscle.

“Maybe it is better this way...” you mumbled to yourself and closed your eyes.

“Don't you dare to go to sleep, not when I just found you!” an all familiar voice growled and you opened your eyes in shock, looking at Zelda Spellman herself. You just huffed and closed your eyes again. It was just so much easier.

To your utter shock, you felt warm arms wrap around you and the shock was enough for you to open your eyes again. Zelda lied down next to you, pulling you flush against her and somehow you managed to blush.

“We need to get you warmer so that I can bring you back to the house...” Zelda whispered and put the extra coat around both of you. 'Fuck it' you thought and buried your face in Zelda's shoulder. She smelled so good, and you were so tired.

“Don't fall asleep y/n” Zelda urged you and you huffed in surprise.

“You never called me by my name” you whisper and smile. It sounded good coming from her lips.

“Listen y/n I am... I am sorry for how I treated you. It wasn't fair and I regret deeply that it had to escalate like this before I saw reason.”

“'s okay,” you mumble and snuggled a little bit closer. Zelda's hand started rubbing your back gently and she couldn't get over the fact of how right it felt to hold you like this. She was a horrible person for treating you with such resentment when you deserved so much more.

“What I will tell you now, I will tell you just one time, so you better listen, okay?” Zelda mumbled, still rubbing your back.

“Aaaahh there is the Zelda I know and lo-like,” you smile, almost slipping.

“We'll see how deserving of your affections I am when I told you what I need you to tell,” Zelda said, ignoring what you just said for now, even though her heart started to beat faster.

“I am no easy woman. I lash out when I feel vulnerable and my temper is the worst. I treated you like vermin, and you didn't deserve this. I lash out when I feel vulnerable, and I feel that around you, a lot. Even though I didn't realize that until now. I am not as happy-go-lucky as you are, and I am not an affectionate person. At least out in the open. I was told that I am a stone-cold bitch on more than one occasion and I can't help but to agree. I have been hurt y/n, and it pains me to admit, I am afraid that I will get hurt again.”

“Hilda told me what happened. With Blackwood and Mambo Marie. Don't be mad at her, she just wanted to help,” you whisper and Zelda scoffed. You had to smile at that. You two lay like this for a while longer, until you felt how the numb feeling left your extremities.

“I think I'm better now,” you say reluctantly but Zelda didn't let you go just yet, asking for just a little while longer. You wiggled your arms free and wrapped them around Zelda too, slowly and carefully, not to scare her away. Zelda melted instantly into your arms and you smiled. Seems like you weren't the only one starved of affection. Stone cold bitch my ass, you thought and nuzzled a little closer.

“I'm gonna be brave now, okay? I like you very much Zelda, and somehow I think you like me too, don't think I didn't notice the way you look at me when you feel like no one is looking. The point I am trying to make is, that I wouldn't dream of hurting you, at least not willingly. I can be a massive idiot sometimes, but I want to get to know the real you. The one that hides behind all those walls of fear and hurt and I want to... just be there,” you mumble and to your utter shock you heard small sobs coming from Zelda.

“Hey, it's gonna be okay... Sorry if that was too much, I just told you what felt right!” you say and leaned back to look at Zelda. You were panicking. Did you say something wrong? But Zelda just took your face into her hands and bestowed the softest kiss to your forehead. It felt like an absolution.

“No one ever told me that they wanted to get to know the real me. I can't promise you that I will be able to show you my true self, but I will try,” she whispered and buried her face in your neck.

“That's good enough for me.” You said and cuddled closer... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Still taking prompts, and since schools are closed due to Covid I have a lot of time to write and imrpove!

[hag-rambling-on]

Boys hc’s feats Diaspro

Riven

Riven Cassios was born to two Omega prisoners. What surprised everyone, because staying healthy enough to carry out a pregnancy on a planet that sucks your magic is... Obviously the Rocalucce Council keeps an eye on the planet, they took him out of there because no child would pay because his parents, and he has been in foster homes, although it doesn't last long since the requirements for his adoption were more strict than most -which in the long run the Council would realize was COUNTERPRODUCTIVE for his character-. That is what Darcy detects and why the high spheres are somewhat "permissive" with him.

His mother died giving birth, it was already miraculous that she lived so long and ‘bout his father I think I'm going to kill him too, maybe. The father I assure you would be love him (he called Riven to himself Daru, his gift) thought was not his initial idea, the mother always saw him as an experiment (she was a witch who followed the Ancenstresses). Ohm, also in his blood there are dark elves and giants.

Riven surname is actually the name of the galaxy where he was born or a derivation of it, as is common for orphans. So the boy knows NOTHING about the above.

Timmy and Riven are the only specialists who have passed the full course at Fonterossa, without skips. In the end they bond about it. Timmy gives him a recommendation to work as a part-time mechanic at Magix (good boy face, he knows how to use it)

Timmy

Timeus “tshhhh, it’s Timmy.... i’m not my grandfather” fulfills the physique requisits as much as any other specialist, but it is true that his physique and abilities, adapted to the distance, give him a more "feline" air.

He is also the one who wakes up at night and moves silently, scaringthe rest of the squad if they wake up unexpectedly.

His glasses are for both sight and Aura Vision. His parents are rich enough to pay for an operation, but since he would have to wear glasses for his ability anyway, why? Practical guy.

And the glasses make people look down on him, something that when his self-esteem is high and he’s being rational and cunning he knows it’s wonderful, although many others times may hurt. He is mostly leprechaum with something human.

Nex

Nex is still a Paladin born in Lymphea and with blood of literally ALL races. He adapts well to any planet, although not its people at first. His race mix makes his face “charismatic”, like always draw attention even if people don’t know very well why they are draw.

His ability is Delay Sleep. It allows him to hold over his need to sleep for days without going crazy or losing physical capacity or needing many days to recover (he can stay awake for 5 or more days, sleep 8-10 hours and go back to being his usual self). Sometimes he does not control this well and has plenty of energy in need of drop but he is the one who has the most control of his ability.

One of his parents spent time in Rocalucce Fortress as a "guest" so at times he feels like he has something to prove.

Roy

Coming from Andros, most of the population are merpeople with a few elves and humans. which avoids the 100% aquatic population. Roy, unlike Aisha is mostly human-elf with a bit of merpeople in a grandgrandgrand level. One of his parents comes from one of the colonies on the moons of Andros and he was born there although they moved almost immediately.

Roy’s paladin ability being the canon “Triton Aura” used to breathe underwater. That and learning to swim and drive all kinds of water vehicles was what made him feel "adapted" to Andros. But he always try to be useful.

He only became a Paladin at the beginning of season 6, and it was visiting him that the season began. He’s bi but he thinks of himself as straight.

Nabu

I plead guilty to liking Nabu even though I shipped Aisha with Flora and Nex. So I have a hard time thinking about him. Except, EVERY time I try to think of something. EVERY TIME. Rapunzel. So, he will never cut his hair.

But with an island instead of a tower and a babysitter (male and wizard) more dumbledoor (not, actually more like Newt Scamander mentor like).

Sometimes he misses out on some "social customs/things/normalcies" whatever is called due to his little dealing with people. He may seem naive or that don't understand sarcasm. He understands and learns quickly, but people were very respectful to him and there are things he is not used to. 1/2 merpeople 1/4 half elf 1/4 human as both of his parents are half merpeople.

He likes to swim as much as any merpeople, but they didn't let him do it much because they were afraid he would go away or lost, so he usually went off "to the heights", going up to the rooftops and things like that.

Helia

Helia is trans but keeps his first name as chosen name which I don’t understand. Also he has formally tried study practically everything he wanted. Specialist, Paladin, Wizard (of Threads). Painter.

He can't make up his mind, his family hurries him just to STOP making them dizzy and spend a few years with everything -and actually end a single “major” choice- he wants to experience, that he has a very long life and can dedicate a few decades to Everything and they can support them. Well, more or less, but he was vip pass to all these options because family connections.

Long story about Sky, Brandon and Dia.

Sky, Brandon and Diaspro's first meeting was a show. Has it all. Costumes, lies. Confusion. Kidnapping. And that is why Diaspro insists on the wedding (I would like to mention that although I don’t know her romantic orientation yet surely bi or lesbian, here, Dia is asexual. And Sky is non-binary but his parents do not approve so go for he/him to avoid problem with them. And here our story begins)

A bit of background. Brandon actually hails from Isis, the son of the military and was chosen by the whimsical chibi!Diaspro as a playmate and future personal guard (because then she believed that touching children gave "lice" and her character and age did not have the 18like wall of royal education, then in a random encounter he called her among many things what Dia's mind translated in a strange way "uncracked geode", which is a double-edged compliment in Isis that many would not accept from strangers but she liked it). Rarely they would end up becoming friends in the end. When the series begins, Brandon and Diaspro keep up with calls, which will prevent Dia's reaction with Bloom on the one hand.

On a visit (officially only from the kings of Erakyon to to the kings of Isis) for the children to get to know each other, somehow, they all ended up happily dressing up, with Sky and Dia looking like two pretty princesses and Brandon assessing whether his dress would be green or yellow because Diaspro insisted that she and Sky had already taken the blue and red and so it would be more "thematic".

Here began the first of many attacks on Sky's head, because before it had begun to be rumored (true) that Erendor had fertility problems (btw his race dwarf-high elf and Samara is leprechaum-high elf, Sky gots mostly high elf part). When they came in and saw two girls and a boy, Brandon, not the highest IQ, but one of the wisest of his team and definitely the best fighter, played along so he ended up pretending to be Sky (also helps that his hair colors looks like Erendor) Everything worked out well in the end, although Brandon ended up as Sky's squire (better for him, worse for Diaspro), and Diaspro made Sky promise that he owed her a big favor. Anyway they grew up over the years in friendship and they both knew they were not of each other's true love interest, but, they could put up with each other (because that's what royalty does).

Sky and Diaspro have a sonorous (affectionate) war over Sky's hair to annoy/exasperate Brandon. Diaspro always complains that he doesn't grow it and it would look great then. Sky says that he is fine as with his hair at it is (it's actually Erendor's thing). The soft part of Diaspro that she doesn't usually show off has taught Sky many ways to style his hair and subtly put on makeup to look more feminine if he wants to.

How I am amused by that image from wikipedia and that Diaspro entered Sky's guard so quickly. Another headcanon is that Diaspro would sometimes change her appearance a bit and go into Sky's guard to be with Brandon to annoy him and Sky, when Brandon has to talk about her without giving details, she is simply "his sister Charbonne" (she hates that alias). They were discovered when she was 15 years old but she had already trained and the royal families considered it a sign to formalize the engagement since “they search each other” (people only sees what they wants).

The Diaspro family is not good, first Brandon was a shield (emotional) because as a child they were not “that” bad and then Sky joined him (physically and politically), handling things with Bloom so like that was not a good idea when the floor was full of cracked bottles.

... omg i’m sorry you three i’m sorry what I did to you

Also, Brandon's ability as a green user is very interesting and helps with this a lot. I temporally call it “Keypoint Warning” and I like it a lot, it's like a "tic" that tells him "be careful, what you say, what you do now, even the smallest thing could change everything for youself (for better or for worse)”. He actually has a scar on his forehead (not a lightning bolt) that his hairstyle hides after “that” day but a little less fine on the words and the kidnappers might have broken his mouth so... His parents have been cured (spoiler: no) of heart attack since then.

[timeagainreviews]

My Series 10 Rewatch: The Husbands of River Song

One of the beautiful aspects of starting this blog has been the opportunity to revisit old episodes. The title of this blog "Time and Time Again," isn’t just a reference both to Twin Peaks and Doctor Who, but also a raison d'être. The hope is that repeat viewings will bring forth new insights. Things I loathed previously may seem charming in hindsight. Things I initially adored may begin to show cracks in their facade. Some records take a few listens until we discover their greatness. Sometimes art requires consideration.

I mention this because our first review for the series 10 retrospective is for "The Husbands of River Song," an episode of which I detested. It's important to give this context as my opinion of it has indeed mellowed over time. I will endeavour to highlight this shift in perspective as memory permits. Before the other day, I hadn't watched this episode since it first aired on Christmas of 2015. What then can nearly half a decade add to the experience?

It should be noted that I have never been a big fan of Doctor Who Christmas specials. It would be quicker to count the reasons I like them, or in this case, the reason. That being, it's more Doctor Who. Other than that, I find the whole Christmas theme to be hokey. Growing up, I was a Halloween kid. I really don't like Christmas all that much, so an entire episode themed around it is not my idea of a good time. Even worse is when the villains themselves have Christmassy gimmicks like Santa robots or evil snowmen. I suppose in some ways, it's in the Christmas spirit for the Doctor to die and regenerate on Christmas, as they so often do. The concept of birth and renewal are a big part of the holiday. But if I was known to die a lot on Christmas, I might use my time machine to skip it every year.

Landing his TARDIS on Christmas Day, in the year 5343 is Peter Capaldi as the Twelfth Doctor. The planet, Mendorax Dellora, is one of Steven Moffat's usual Christmas village planets, stuck somewhere in a vortex of quaint sentiment. The Doctor appears to have about as much Christmas spirit as I do. Having just lost Clara both in spirit and memory, he's reverted to the Doctor's most worrisome state- hermitic and bitter. Not even the TARDIS' holographically generated reindeer antlers can bring out the holiday cheer. It's a visit from Nardole, a nebbish sort of man, that brings the Doctor out of his slump. Mistaking him for a surgeon, he leads the Doctor to what appears to be a crash-landed saucer. The obscene redness of its exterior against the plain backdrop gave me the strangest pangs of the circus tent from "Killer Klowns from Outer Space." Just throwing that out there.

From the outset, Peter Capaldi is at his most charming. I've never actually covered a Twelfth Doctor story before now, so I would like to mention how much I adore his performance as the Doctor. I know he gets a lot of flack from certain fans (see: dipshit morons with no class), but I think he's brilliant. Right away his banter with Nardole is apparent. It's easy to see why someone may have watched Capaldi and Matt Lucas interacting and thought "There's something here." Lucas' history in comedy gives him great timing as the foil to the Twelfth Doctor's eccentricity.

However, it won't be Nardole filling the role of co-star for long. As the Doctor enters the ship of King Hydroflax, he is greeted by the familiar face of River Song. As I have mentioned previously, I have issues with the way River's story plays out, but by this point in the show, I had grown to love her. Which is why this episode pains me so much. The problems inherent in having the Doctor and River's relationship play out like two ships in the night are at their worst in this episode, but I'll get to that in due time.

The King Hydroflax, played with great relish by Greg Davies is a mere head atop a giant robot body, painted in the same garish red as the flying saucer. River, acting very unlike herself, is practically prostrating herself in front of the vain king. Furthermore, she doesn't seem to recognise the Doctor's new face at all. Even more disturbing to the Doctor is the fact that River appears to be married to the king tyrant, talking about him as some sort of cherished lover. After analysing his new patient, the Doctor discovers a foreign body lodged into Hydroflax's skull. All the while, the king's loyal subjects watch a live feed of the operation, booing the Doctor when he refuses to placate the ego of their leader. It's an idea that has become painfully more believable in the years since airing.

The Doctor and River go into another room of the ship where River explains that the foreign body is, in fact, the most valuable diamond in the universe known as the Halassi Androvar. Somewhat to the Doctor's relief, he discovers that River's love for the king has been a ruse to recover the diamond for the Halassi people, from whom it was stolen. Much like the Doctor has turned into a bitter hermit, loneliness has brought out River's more sadistic nature as she takes to the idea of killing Hyrdroflax for the diamond in stride. Less enthusiastic of the idea than even the Doctor is the emperor himself, who has somehow managed to eavesdrop on two Time Lords while walking around in a massive robotic body. This kind of logic will continue throughout the night.

The king is much displeased with learning that his new wife is some renegade archaeologist with a sonic trowel. Taunting the pair, he removes his head from his robot body, leading River to improvise. Holding his head hostage at trowelpoint, River improvises and takes the entire head in a duffel bag. River's other husband, a beautiful but submissive man named Ramone, teleports her and the Doctor to safety with the head in tow. Meanwhile, Hyrdoflax's body sets about taking on a new head in the form of poor Nardole. It’s worth noting that River wiping Ramone’s mind of any knowledge that they were married is a bit creepy. There are implications involved that kind of gross me out.

The Doctor, having just met Ramone, is taken aback after having met yet another of River's husbands. Beginning to feel like a bit of an afterthought the Doctor takes small potshots at River's sense of loyalty, while also fishing for clues that he may or may not have ever meant something to her. For all this episode does to highlight the Doctor and River's secret feelings for one another, it does a piss poor job of actually staying true to River's character in one key manner. Throughout a majority of the episode, River fails repeatedly to recognise the Doctor for who he is.

Moffat tries somewhat to cover his tracks by making it look as though River only knows of twelve previous regenerations, including the War Doctor. In what looks like one of the cheapest props of the episode, she even has a little fold-out wallet with all of the Doctors' pictures. Knowing that the Eleventh Doctor was the end of his regeneration cycle, she never even considers the idea that the Doctor may have lived on. Even though toward the end of the episode, she remarks that the Doctor always finds a way to cheat fate, she wholeheartedly buys into the idea that the Doctor would just never regenerate beyond the Eleventh Doctor. In a single episode, not even River's own logic believes River's own logic.

Learning that River sometimes shows up to places he's been long enough to take the TARDIS for a joyride, the Doctor is given a chance to act as a bit of a spectator in his own life. There is a definite bit of glee to be found in the Twelfth Doctor's over the top reaction to his own TARDIS. Finally being able to say "It's bigger on the inside," the Doctor savours the moment to great comical effect. Ramone parts ways to he and River's pre-established rendezvous point. However, he is cut short by the giant robot body holding a gun to Nardole's head. Poor Nardole, he's having such a rough go of things. First, he brings the wrong surgeon, then he loses his body, and now he's being held hostage by his new body. The robot’s only demand is that Ramone send a message to River.

River, as always, is quite at home in the TARDIS, even taking a moment to raid the liquor cabinet of which not even the Doctor was aware. However, her flawless piloting of the TARDIS is thrown out of whack by unforeseen circumstances. Even after the Doctor deduces that the TARDIS won't fly while it senses the King's head and body are both inside and outside the TARDIS, River still doesn't grasp the fact that he is the Doctor. I would also like mention that while I found the TARDIS' failsafe to be a rather creative invention, it did immediately make me wonder about the Cyberhead Handles' body. What constitutes a body the TARDIS recognises? Could the Face of Boe fly in the TARDIS? Could Dorium Maldovar? Oh well, it doesn't really matter.

A knock on the TARDIS door from Ramone, now part of the robot, quickly reunites the head and body. However, for the third time in this episode, any action is immediately sidestepped by yet another person taking a disembodied head hostage. This time it's the Doctor threatening to throw Hydroflax's head down the garbage chute. Every chance this episode gets, it bravely avoids the perils of forming some sort of plot. The stakes have never been lower. The Doctor and River take the TARDIS to a restaurant aboard the starship Harmony and Redemption. Everyone onboard is some sort of war criminal or seedy individual, including the Maître d', a bug faced man named Flemming. After taking a seat in the restaurant, River reveals that she never planned on returning the diamond to the people of Halassi. Instead, she plans on selling it to the highest bidder.

The Doctor uses this moment to probe River for further information. River reads silently from her TARDIS diary. She reveals to the Doctor that the person who gave her the diary was the type of man who would know just how long a diary she would need. It's at this moment that the Doctor begins to see traces that River is very much still in love with him and that she may be a little lost without him. I would say this scene was touching if it weren't for the fact that it was undercut by River's inability to recognise the man sitting directly in front of her. It's so out of character for River to be this myopic. By this point in my initial watch through, I was so annoyed by this betrayal of her character that it took me out of the story completely. The second time around was only a little less irritating due to the fact that at least now I expected it.

River's buyer turns out to be Scratch, a very Moffatty body horror bad guy, in the vein of characters like Colony Sarff or the Headless Monks. After accepting River's price, Scratch opens his head like a coin purse and pulls out a little orb that connects to any bank in the universe. By this point, I've grown accustomed to Moffat's over the top exploits like this. It's feasible to imagine that Scratch's cruel master may have torn his head open to store money. It's like in "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," when Humma Kavula removes a servant's nose to reveal a control pad that opens a series of draws tucked into his chest. However, it gets a bit far fetched when it is revealed that many other diners in the restaurant are the same species as Scratch and they all have the same scar across their faces. Is this some evolutionary trait? Are they a species so greedy that they evolved a place to squirrel away their money? Do they keep other stuff like car keys or bags of space weed? Not every bad guy needs to be a toy, Moffat!

The reason the patrons suddenly turn on the Doctor and River is that they discover the diamond is lodged within the head of their great leader. This brings up even more questions about their heads. Why doesn't Hydroflax’s head have the same scar? Are they the same species? How did this asshole even get so much power in the first place? There seems to be neither anything likable nor competent about him... oh right. Once again, the events of the years since have made this episode more believable. Dinner is even further interrupted by the King's body barging in, demanding its proper head. Only now it deems King Hydroflax's head unsuitable. Having been detached from his body for too long, the King's head is now dying. The body disintegrates the King's head, leaving behind the diamond. Flemming uses this opportunity to alert the patrons of the restaurant to the fact that River knows the perfect person to become the next head of state, so to speak. Of course, it's the Doctor.

Why Flemming knows River knows a Time Lord, but doesn't know she herself is a Time Lord is anyone's guess. Or maybe he knows and is just throwing shade by implying that the Doctor is a better Time Lord. It's at this moment that Alex Kingston is given one of her finest moments as River Song in the form of an emotional monologue. After arguing that the Doctor wouldn't be there with her because he doesn't care, it finally dons on her that the Doctor has been standing next to her the entire time. Despite the fact that Moffat sacrificed River's intelligence for the sake of a big reveal, the moment still resonates. Capaldi's warm gaze meeting River's expression of shock followed by his soft utterance of "Hello sweetie," is genuinely touching. No cynical sensationalism can undo the beautiful performances given by Capaldi and Kingston, who bring more gravity to the scene than the script.

For all of the hand-wavey tripe this episode heaps upon us, the way in which the Doctor and River escape this sticky situation is actually rather brilliant. In any other show, the appearance of a sudden freak meteor collision with the ship would seem convenient. But River is an archaeologist and a time traveller. She picked her meeting location perfectly- a starship about to be destroyed by meteors. Her line of "I'm an archaeologist from the future, I dug you up," is easily one of the best River Song lines ever written for Doctor Who. If this is truly her final episode, that's one hell of a line to go out on.

In another convenient moment, the diamond lands in River's dress as they're making their escape. I guess she planned that too. The Doctor uses Scratch's money orb to short circuit the robot body with its firewall. River and the Doctor run to the TARDIS while the ship crashes into the planet Darillium, knocking River unconscious. While River is out, the Doctor uses the opportunity to do a bit of time travelling. First, the Doctor gives the diamond to one of the crash's first responders, telling him to build a restaurant in front of the singing towers of Darillium. Then he jumps forward to a time when the restaurant has been built to make reservations. Then he jumps forward to the day of the reservation. River wakes up to find herself wandering into a beautiful restaurant on Christmas Day. Even Ramone and Nardole have survived due to some trickery on the Doctor’s behalf. Nardole is having a bit of “alone time,” which River remarks must be difficult as a head. That one goes up there with Ursula becoming a blowjob dispensing pavement stone at the end of “Love and Monsters.” The Doctor is waiting for River in a First Doctor style bow tie and coat. He treats her to a romantic meal and the gift of her own sonic screwdriver, the same sonic screwdriver she has when we met her in "Silence in the Library."

There's a nice little cap on the entire River storyline here that feels a bit more final than the one between her and the Eleventh Doctor. Perhaps it's the fact that it's the last time Moffat wrote her character, or perhaps it's because even River seems to know something is up. Having heard the legends of her own romance with the Doctor, River knows that her last night was spent with the Doctor on the planet Darillium. This is a bit of retconning that you often find in Doctor Who. River doesn't really know in her first appearance that she's headed toward her own demise, yet here she's all too aware of it. It's compounded by the fact that the Doctor reveals that a night on Darillium lasts 24 years. It's meant to be a sweet line that implies they got to spend a lot of time coupling together for 24 years, but it's really just 24 years for River to know, for certain, that she's going to her inevitable doom.

Retcons like these don't necessarily ruin the show. Storytellers shouldn't be forced to sacrifice the current narrative all for the sake of creating tidy bookends. Should Big Finish not put Peri and the Fifth Doctor in more adventures for fear that it may dilute the Doctor's sacrificing his own life for a woman he barely knows? Does him knowing her better make his sacrifice any less admirable? How about the many times River meets the Doctor in his previous forms even though the Tenth Doctor clearly had never met her in his life? I'm not going to answer these questions because they should be open-ended. It is a thing to consider in Doctor Who. If time is a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff, then maybe the storylines are allowed to be as malleable.

As I've demonstrated above, our own experiences with the stories can be malleable. I watched this episode with my boyfriend because I wanted to gauge his initial reaction. A lot of his reactions mirrored my own. We both found ourselves enjoying it as a light romp afforded by the air of a Christmas episode, while also deriding it for its lack of plot. Like myself, he too felt that the big reveal was detrimental to River's intelligence and went on past the point of acceptability. It's one of the oddest things about Steven Moffat as a writer, no matter how clever his ideas actually may be, he doesn't ever seem to know when his audience has caught on. Perhaps it's the suits at the BBC underestimating the audience. Or perhaps this is because he spent a lot of his life as a Doctor Who nerd, oftentimes feeling out of place when talking about Doctor Who to casuals. But the modern Doctor Who audience has been raised on science fiction and intricate narratives. No hand-holding necessary.

Regardless of how attuned he perceives his audience to be, River's realisation seems more slavishly timed to the climax of the story than anything else. One can't help but wonder if Moffat hadn't been so insistent on making this moment the crux of the episode, we may have actually gotten a more serviceable plot. Instead of heads held hostage and hand waving, we could have gotten a stronger villain. Scratch could have represented more than just some guy with a coin purse head. There are lots of fantastical elements on display, but none of them is ever given any gravity. Moffat's fixation on character relationships is so single-minded that it comes not only at the sake of plot, but character as well. It's unfortunate that despite Alex Kingston's greatest efforts, River's goodbye is undercut by one writer's need to be clever.

[findmeinpops]

FindMeInPops’ 12 Days of Christmas: Day Twelve - Southside Archive Secret Santa

Merry Christmas Liz ( @worriestothewind​ )! Here we have a festive friends-to-lovers oneshot for Female!Reader x Sweet Pea. I hope you enjoy reading this and that you have a wonderful festive season; I wish you all the best for the new year (and decade!). Harry x 

P.S. Thank you @southsidearchive​ for organising the Secret Santa, it’s much appreciated.

Prompt: Friends to lovers

Ship(s): Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Rating: T

CW(s): Cursing, alcohol

Gifted: Liz ( @worriestothewind​ )

@riverdalebingo​ : A Christmas Bet

Reindeer Games: Prancer - Parties

As Y/N was pushing the pins into her hair to hold up her half-up half-down do, she could only think about how little she wanted to go out tonight. Every year the Southside Serpents held a festive party in the Whyte Wyrm - she had no clue how they could even afford the place considering their low budget but it probably did not hurt that FP, the current leader of the Southside gang, was brothers with the owner.

Y/N had joined the Southside Serpents three years ago so there had only been three parties since Y/N had first been permitted to go, and she was rather glad that she had only ever been roped into attending one of them; every other time she had been quite happy to stay at home, curled up in bed. Her best friend Sweet Pea had voluntarily attended each one, unfortunately for her, so she had been left at home alone to entertain herself. But this time he was dragging her along with him.

“I still can’t believe you persuaded me to go to this party,” Y/N complained, casually strolling out of her ensuite bathroom and standing in front of Sweet Pea, hands on her hips in the only act of defiance she could muster right then. He drew his eyes away from his phone, looking up from his position on her bed, not batting an eyelid at her half-clothed state.

It was an almost amusing contrast to see Sweet Pea in the setting of Y/N’s room; the floral pink duvet cover against the fully-black biker look, that Sweet Pea seemed to have had ever since he left the womb, would have been shocking to most. To be fair, his dark attire wasn’t all that different from Y/N’s typical outfits of choice, but she had an affinity for all things pink, pastel, and floral when it came to her decor and belonging, only preferring grayscale when it came to clothes.

Y/N and Sweet Pea had been best friends since birth, or near enough; they were both Serpent legacies, but Y/N’s family was somewhat more stable than Pea’s. When Sweet Pea hit the ripe old age of six months, his father took it upon himself to high-tail out of Riverdale to go and live with his pregnant mistress. A single, working, new-mother, his mom often resorted to leaving Pea with the Y/L/Ns’ and the pair became fast friends. They grew up together and, although they did occasionally venture outside of their partnership, they were each other’s closest friend. And it was for this exact reason that Sweet Pea had no reaction to Y/N standing in front of him in only a black mini skirt, fishnets, and bra.

“We need to leave in half an hour. Are you going like that?” Sweet Pea commented dryly.

“Pea,” She moaned, continuing to complain just in case he would allow her reprieve from their plans.

“It’s up to you, but I think FP may have something to say about your outfit of choice.”

“Pea, please?” She pouted, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

Sweet Pea sighed, dropping his phone between his crossed legs. “I believe we had an agreement, sweetheart.”

“Yes, and I will be forever grateful that you are not forcing me to go to the New Year’s party or any other Serpent festive gathering for the rest of this year, but,” Y/N crouched down, a hand on each of Pea’s knees, “would you not much rather be curled up with yours truly, hot chocolate, and a Christmas comedy on the TV?”

She tried to pull her most enticing puppy-dog face--which nine times out of ten melted Pea into a puddle at her feet, but not this time.

“A deal’s a deal.” He gave her a pointed look which softened slightly when he saw genuine disappointment flicker through Y/N’s eyes. “Hey,” he placed his hands on top of hers, running his thumbs over the back of them, “I’ll be there and I promise we can be back here by one am. I’ll even try to persuade your mom to let me sleep over and we can cuddle with hot chocolate and a comedy then.” The placating smile he offered did nothing as she rolled her eyes, pushing up from her position.

“You don’t need to persuade my mom to do anything.” She wandered over to her dresser, picking up her makeup bag before plopping herself down on the floor in front of the full-length mirror attached to her wardrobe. “She fucking loves you.” And didn’t Y/N know it.

‘Sweet Pea is such a nice boy’, ‘why don’t you date Sweet Pea’, ‘wouldn’t it be wonderful if Sweet Pea was my son-in-law,’ – Y/N never heard the end of how much her mother adored Pea but what her mother (or Pea for that matter) did not know is how much Y/N and her mother were in agreement in wishing that Pea would date her.

For as long as they’d been friends, Y/N had known that she loved Sweet Pea, but it was not until a moment in their teens, when she had had the sudden urge to grab him by the neck and crush his lips to hers, did she realise the love was no longer solely platonic.

Y/N had a crush on her lifelong best friend and he did not have a single fucking clue.

She had briefly entertained the thought of initiating something between them but the potential of losing Pea over such a thing was a devastating concept and so the idea was killed in moments. Regardless, Y/N knew that Sweet Pea had a huge crush on Toni, not that he had told her this, but she had noticed the way he smiled at her - that was the smile of a boy who was crushing on a girl.

Each time Y/N saw that smile, there was always a small twinge in her gut but she was determined to make her best friend happy, no longer caring that it would not be with her. Sweet Pea deserved to be happy.

“But she doesn’t love me as much as I love you.” He sent her a faux sickly-sweet smile in the mirror, forcing her eyes to roll yet again.

Drawing on her eyeliner, Y/N could not stop her mind from imagining him meaning it the way that she secretly hoped he would. No, she had to reprimand herself, Sweet Pea had been with her through thick and thin, spent many evenings soothing her as she sobbed over this and that as well as always having her back. She loved him regardless of context and, because of this, she wanted and needed him to be happy – if Pea wanted to be with Toni then she would make it happen.

“I fucking love you.” Their little phrase left her lips as she finished up the liner on her second eye.

“And I fucking love you,” he replied, as they shared a genuine smile before delving back into their respective tasks – Y/N applying minimal makeup for the forced exertion from her home and Sweet Pea texting whoever.

******

Riding on the back of a motorcycle in a skirt was never really the best of ideas, but it was a dark December evening and no one would see. But what Y/N had not considered was how bad of an idea it was to ride on the back of a motorcycle, in the middle of December, at night, in fishnets and a skirt.

“Holy shit, I’m freezing,” she exclaimed, jumping from the seat as soon as Sweet Pea turned the engine off.

“Yeah, probably not the best of our ideas,” Sweet Pea reasoned, sliding off the seat a lot more smoothly. He placed a hand on either of her arms, rubbing his hands up and down her clothed skin, trying to create a little heat.

“Our idea? Please, I wanted to take the car but no, we were already late so you wanted to freeze my tits off.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes at that before gripping her wrist in one hand, pocketing his keys with the other, and all but dragging her towards the bar door.

“I’m freezing, my legs are going to fall off, and I do not want to be here.” Y/N continued to complain and Sweet Pea could only compare her to a toddler having a tantrum.

They stopped just shy of the closed door, muffled music and chattering could be heard on the other side, and the glow of multi-coloured lights could be seen through the frosted panes of the windows. It all looked rather cozy and, if there weren’t fifty other people in there, Y/N would have probably been quite happy to enter.

“Stop being dramatic, we had a deal. These parties normally suck--”

She opened her mouth to interrupt but a slight glare from Sweet Pea stopped the words in their place.

“--but my bestest friend in the whole entire world is here and you’re going to make the experience so much better. Then, we will go home, maybe catch a lift with someone since I quite like your legs being attached,” he spared a glance to her goose-bump covered skin, “and we will drink hot chocolate and watch a movie.”

He took one of her hands in his, neither of their fingers particularly warm, and began to push on the door before stopping and turning back to face Y/N. “Oh, and Toni’s here.”

Ah, how could she forget her plan, although she wasn’t entirely sure why Pea thought that this would be an incentive for her to enter, he had no idea that she was aware of his crush. Y/N was going to somehow get her best friend to ask out Toni by the end of the night, whether she said yes was out of Y/N’s control, but she would be sure to get Sweet Pea to confess... somehow…

With a small smile now gracing her lips, they both pushed through the door into the large bar area, welcoming the overwhelming warmth that hit them as well as the tangy smell of alcohol. Hog Eye, the owner of the Whyte Wyrm, had strung fairylights along the walls and a small Christmas tree sat on the bar, adorned with the same multi-coloured lights and several red shiny baubles. People were scattered all over the large room, drinks in hand, and loudly chatting away as Bing Crosby was crooning out ‘White Christmas’.

Y/N hummed along as she handed her coat to Sweet Pea to hang on the coat stand, nodding a silent thanks as she continued to take in the room. It was whilst doing this that she spotted several bunches of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, and then she had her plan. Now she just had to lure Toni and Sweet Pea over to one of the many bunches of mistletoe. She began to search for Toni but the latter had already spotted them and was waving them over to where she stood with a small group of her friends.

“Let’s join Toni,” Sweet Pea spoke before Y/N had the chance, sending a nod towards the fellow Serpent.

“Hey guys, cold out isn’t it?” Toni greeted each of them with a hug once they made their way through the crowd. This was not too much of a feat, though, as they tended to part easily for Sweet Pea as he towered over most people.

“Sure is. This idiot decided to ride on the bike wearing fishnets.” Sweet Pea knocked Y/N with his elbow, sending a kind smile to let her know he was only joking.

“Sure, sure, my fault, I know.” Y/N rolled her eyes goodnaturedly, bumping her best friend back with her hip.

“Well, at least it’s warm in here, you’ll be alright in no time,” Toni replied before pulling on the arm of a tall redhead beside her, who turned away from her current conversation. To say Y/N was shocked to see Cheryl Blossom in the Whyte Wyrm would be an understatement. It had been a few years since they had all graduated from Riverdale High, but Cheryl had always been an incredibly preppy individual, to put it kindly, who had deemed herself higher than most others around her. She and her brother, Jason, had practically ruled the school, hardly sparing a glance to others, particularly the transfers from Southside High who were made bottom of the food chain. She had obviously come a long way from her time in high school.

“Sweet Pea, Y/N, I’m sure you remember Cheryl.” Cheryl wiggled her fingers in a small wave and offered a sheepish smile as they were introduced. “She’s a ‘trainee serpent’, so to speak. FP is considering her for the initiation.”

Both Y/N and Sweet Pea’s eyes widened comically. Tonight was full of surprises. It was one thing for the Cheryl they knew to willingly surround herself and be associated with Serpents, but for her to also desire to become a Serpent - perhaps she had hit her head.

Cheryl must have noticed their expressions as she was quick to pull her hands together in a pleading gesture. “I know and I sincerely apologise for the unacceptable and truly horrible way I treated you and your fellow Serpents throughout our time at Riverdale High. I promise that I have changed my ways since graduation and, with the help of TT, I hope to show you how true this transformation is.”

“Of course, I’m sure we’ll see more of each other through Serpent business, but we can always hang out. It’s a regular thing we do with Toni,” Sweet Pea answered for both of them, swinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, signalling for her to nod her agreement.

“Brilliant.” Cheryl grinned.

A slightly awkward silence settled around the four of them, something that was most likely due to all of their being unsure how to act with Cheryl around. Y/N’s eyes flitted around the room, not knowing where to land, trying to avoid having to make stilted conversation. Her eyes just happened to catch on a particular bunch of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling above the bar.

Being in such close proximity with Pea heated her skin, something that was putting Y/N off of the whole scheme she had created, but the look that appeared on Pea’s face each time he saw Toni reappeared in her mind; she wanted only the best for him and for him to be happy and, because of that, she would continue forward with her plan.

“I don’t know about you, but I need a drink” Y/N broke the silence, and relief noticeably appeared on Pea and Toni’s faces, Cheryl seemingly oblivious. Pretending to notice Toni’s lack of drink in hand, you added, “Toni, why don’t you join us at the bar.”

Pea’s eyes narrowed slightly, trying to work out why she had intentionally omitted Cheryl from the invitation but seemingly settled on ignoring it for now, he released his arm from around Y/N’s shoulders before chiming in, “yeah, I’ll cover this round.”

“And I’ll stay here and make conversation with my soon-to-be fellow Serpents.” Cheryl did not seem overly bothered about her exclusion, smiling and nodding before making her way across the room to a group of younger Serpents.

Y/N led the three of them over, placing herself at the front of the group so she could strategically lead them over to the right-hand side of the bar where the mistletoe hung. She settled herself at the very far end, resting her arm on the sticky surface so that Toni and Sweet Pea would be forced to stand together at her left.

“Y/N, Sweet Pea, nice to see ya,” Hog Eye greeted, coming directly to the trio, bypassing a few already waiting patrons.

Y/N and Sweet Pea had helped out Hog Eye quite a bit over the last year. The Ghoulies, before they were run out of town, had made an attack on the Whyte Wyrm, destroying half of the bar, and the pair had been a part of a few Serpents who had helped reassemble the place. Veronica had pitched in the money necessary, due to feeling guilty about her father being partially responsible for the attack, so Y/N and Sweet Pea just offered some manpower, as well as occasionally taking up some shifts at the bar while Hog Eye was recovering from injuries he sustained during the ordeal.

Nevertheless, Hog Eye had been incredibly grateful and had no qualms ignoring the already waiting customers to serve them. “Toni too, I see. What can I get you three?”

“I’ll have a bourbon, please, Hog Eye, you know how I like it,” Y/N replied. “Pea’s driving so he’ll just have a coke?” Sweet Pea nodded to her question. “And Toni, what do you want?” Y/N turned to Toni who seemed distracted but requested a Jack and coke at her prompting.

As Hog Eye was pouring the drinks, Toni zoned out again, slowly gaining a mischievous twinkle in her eye paired with a not-so-hidden grin. “Y’know, Y/N, you’re looking hot as hell tonight.”

Y/N turned bright red at Toni’s words, and she wanted nothing more than to hit her head on the bar counter in embarrassment. A similar, but more subtle, pink dusted Sweet Pea’s cheeks. It was also joined by a small smirk.

“Um, thanks I--”

“Yeah, you look amazing, let me take a photo of your outfit. And Sweet Pea! Sweet Pea can be in the photo as well.” She was talking so frantically that neither Y/N or Sweet Pea really understood what was going on so when Toni suddenly gripped Y/N’s arms and spun her around for the picture, Sweet Pea had to grab Y/N by the waist to stop her toppling over.

“Perfect! Just perfect!” Toni exclaimed, pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket. “Now Y/N just move a little closer to Sweet Pea.”

“Do you know what the fuck is going on?” Sweet Pea whispered into Y/N’s ear, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. She shook her head in answer but also to rid herself of the odd sensation, she could use that bourbon now.

“And smile!”

Toni took the photo. The pair began to move apart from the too-close position before Toni stopped them with a hand, that mischievous look taking over her entire face.

“Would you look at that!” She feigned surprise, tilting her head to the ceiling. Y/N and Sweet Pea followed suit, freezing at what they saw. Shit.

“Mistletoe. You know what that means?”

“No, Toni you were--”

“You’re under the mistletoe, you have to kiss.” Toni seemed to be enjoying Y/N’s squirming, but Y/N was more concerned about Sweet Pea unwrapping his arm from around her waist and pulling away, taking it as rejection. Although it was nothing short of what she expected, it still stung.

“No, Toni, I think Y/N wants you to come here.” Sweet Pea stepped back, motioning Toni over. Y/N could almost scream in frustration, this was not going how she had wanted it to go.

“No, it was supposed to be you and Toni under the--”

“Guys, just get on with--” Toni tried to interrupt Y/N, but Sweet Pea stepped in.

“Wait, you were trying to set me up with Toni?” Y/N swung around to face him, now incredibly concerned that he had taken offence. She had not considered Sweet Pea might consider her scheming overstepping.

“Yes, I just wanted to see you happy and I know you have a crush on--”

“Me? Have a crush on Toni?” Sweet Pea’s eyes were almost bugging out his head.

Their outbursts had gained the attention of a few of the nearest Serpents whilst Hog Eye was trying his very hardest to hold in laughter, his face beginning to resemble a tomato.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to--”

“I thought you had a crush on Toni!” His exclamation caused Y/N to freeze, both of them oblivious to the listening ears and the amused smiles of the entire bar.

“You--I--What?” Y/N could not believe a single word that she was hearing. How had he gotten the idea that she liked Toni? Y/N had noticed how he had always smiled when they approached her and whenever she was mentioned in conversation the same look reappeared; how else was Y/N supposed to interpret this?

“As entertaining as this is, we would all appreciate it if you both shut up.” Toni’s words brought their attention to the silence that otherwise filled the room and the fact that every pair of eyes were trained on them. If Y/N had been embarrassed before, it did not compare to how she felt now.

Heat filled her entire body, and not in a good way, her face radiating as she chewed at the skin on her lower lip. Sweet Pea was hiding his embarrassment somewhat better, but pink still tinged his cheeks and the tips of ears.

“You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss!” a shout came from somewhere in the small crowd.

Sweet Pea shot a glare in the heckler’s direction before he took a step closer as Y/N was still frozen in shock, reaching his hand to cup her cheek, gently tilting her head upwards to face him. His thumb smoothed over her warm cheek as he scanned her eyes for any form of protest--there was some hesitation but also a hefty amount of want. The same thumb ran over her lower lip now, his ring cold on her skin as he pulled her slightly bruised lip from between her teeth. Pea’s gaze left her lips, meeting hers and silently asking for her permission. After a nod, so small that only he would have seen, he brought his other hand up to her unoccupied cheek, guiding her face up so they met in the middle.

Sweet Pea wasted no time in pressing his lips to hers, unable to believe that this was happening and savouring the moment. Y/N broke out of a trance, bringing one arm up to wrap around his neck, threading her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, ensuring he would not pull away quite yet. It was too soon.

Her lips were on fire, but it was the sparks that spread from their connection through all the nerves in her body that racked her with shivers and set her akin alight. Her other arm settled against his chest, clenching the material of his jumper in her fingers as one of Sweet Pea’s found its place at her waist, pressing her against him, trying to get as much contact as possible.

And then Y/N began to move her lips in a gentle caress, Sweet Pea following suit. There was no rush or urgency, they had time but also a passion as they poured their love for one another into this kiss. The pair moved almost in opposites, caressing each other in turn. Y/N took a gasp of air so Pea seized the chance to run the tip of his tongue along her lower lip, not needing to deepen the kiss further, but savouring the feeling, her touch, her taste, when they were no longer connected. Y/N moved to wrap her other arm around his neck but a loud clearing of a throat registered, triggering Y/N to remember just where they were.

She leant her forehead against Sweet Pea’s chest, her cheeks turning even redder whilst her lungs were still trying to catch up, snickers beginning to filter through to her ears. How could she forget where they were? She probably would have allowed them to progress to a full-on makeout session, without intervention, completely oblivious to the audience they had gained.

Sweet Pea pressed a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head, the hand not on her waist smoothing through her hair. The contact of his skin sent a shiver down her spine, her body obviously not registering their audience.

Once she finally caught her breath and calmed down, she pulled away enough for Sweet Pea to press a small kiss to her nose. An involuntary grin took over her lips and stayed in place as she finally twisted her head to look at the Serpents gathered around.

A chorus of cheering and wolf whistles broke out. Toni still stood behind her, only now joined by Cheryl, who had wrapped an arm around her waist; the former wore an incredibly smug expression whilst the latter simply looked thoroughly entertained. Fangs, on the other hand, who stood a few metres from them, had a slightly childish pout on his face aimed solely at Toni.

“Told you I could do it tonight,” Toni simply said in answer to his expression. “You’re going to have to pay up.” She held her hand out, making a ‘gimme’ motion.

“I don’t have the money on me right now! I was so sure…” the last part seemed to only be spoken to himself.

“You bet on us!” Y/N cried indignantly, wrapping her arms around herself, interlocking her fingers with Pea’s at her waist.

“Only last week,” Toni placated, as if that made it any better.

“If it’s any consolation, Y/N,” Hog Eye spoke unexpectedly. He was leant casually against the wall behind the bar, a smug smile that rivalled Toni’s, adorning his face, “me and yer’ mom have had one going for years.”

“My mom!” Y/N was not angry, per se, but more frustrated with the fact that everyone seemed to have been in a secret conspiracy, even her mom.

“Just don’t tell her about all the mistletoe I put everywhere.” Hog Eye began to full-on belly laugh when Y/N’s eyes bugged out of her head. The rest of the bar, still listening, joined in too.

Y/N twisted back around to properly hug Sweet Pea, wanting to fully gauge his reaction. It seemed she was not alone in her embarrassment, but by the chuckles that were beginning to vibrate through his chest, he was finding the humorous side of things. Y/N sighed. She supposed it was all good-natured.

Y/N‘s gaze flickered over Sweet Pea’s face, taking in the small smile, the slight flush to his handsome features and the twinkle in his forest green eyes. He was truly gorgeous.

“I fucking love you,” she whispered to him, smoothing a lock of his hair back from where it had fallen into his face.

“And I fucking love you.”

[fandom-necromancer]

045. Part 2

As said, this is a three-parter and the warnings apply to all parts. Only the bold ones to this part. I promise it will end well in the last(?) next part! (You know me I never let it end bad!)

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900, Hannor/Hankon | AU: reverse AU (Warnings: android being shipped off to Cyberlife for analysis of deviancy, loss of privacy, loss of control, most think the android is dead, grieving character, trauma because of past mistakes, canon-typical violence)

[part1]   [part3]   [part4]

The precinct was as silent as ever that day. No one dared to say a single word out loud. Maybe there were whispers where necessary, but mostly it was dead quiet. After Richard had come back yesterday, he had gone straight back to Connor’s and Hank’s desk and pulled the android out of his chair. There was a screaming match between Connor and Richard as the stronger, taller twin pushed Hank against a wall, punching him straight into the regulator. Hank’s calmness and lack of reaction only made Richard more furious about it all and his attacks more intense. Connor tried pulling him away, only to earn a fist on his eye, too. It was Fowler who forced him to stop, standing on the stairs to his office, threatening Richard with a disciplinary and suspension. Connor had doubted this to hold his brother back, but he had let Hank go and marched back to his desk in silence.

Connor didn’t file a complaint and Hank wasn’t damaged enough to get him for it, so Richard wasn’t suspended. Still the next day he didn’t come to work, apparently ill. Connor was conflicted. He could understand Richard’s reaction and he worried for his well-being but throwing his fists around was not a good way to handle this. As much as Connor himself hated Hank for it, he still was just a machine. He wasn’t deviant. He followed his orders. No matter how wrong they were, who gave them initially was at fault, not Hank.

Connor couldn’t take this any longer. There was a familiar itch in his hand and his head was too busy for him. Only a few hours in, everything was already pressing down on him and he longed for a bottle to wash it all away. He knew it wasn’t healthy, he knew it was a bad thing to do, but he just couldn’t help it. ‘Fuck it’, he mumbled under his breath, shutting off his terminal. ‘I’m going.’ ‘Where to, Lieutenant?’, the android asked, but he was already walking away. ‘I’m going.’

-

Hank stayed at work without informing anyone of Connor’s absence. It wasn’t necessary as they had no running mission and as it had turned out a deviant hadn’t been among the gang-members but their very own precinct, he was left without a task. ‘Hey, there has been a homicide reported. Eden-club. Some Sex-club downtown. You… errr… where’s Connor?’ ‘You can give me the details; I’ll brief him once he’s back from the restroom.’ A lie. Not the best of options but acceptable as long as he did find Connor and followed the mission. ‘Yeah sure. I’ll upload it to your terminal then.’

Hank had checked Jimmy’s bar with no luck and was now driving to Connor’s house, hoping to find him there. No one answered as he rang the doorbell, but that didn’t mean Connor wasn’t home. As he went around the house, he could see the man lying on the floor unconscious. So, he did the reasonable thing breaking in and slapping him awake. ‘Connor, we got a case.’ ‘Fffffuck off, ya damn android!’ ‘Don’t think I can do that. You are intoxicated and I need you. I’ll sober you up for your own safety, Lieutenant.’ ‘Ya ain’t gonna do shit, ya hear me? You did enough already!’ Regardless of Connor’s words, he hoisted him up and pulled him to the bathroom pushing him under ice-cold water. Finally, that pulled him out of it. ‘Hank? What the fuck are you doing here?’ ‘We have a case. A homicide reported 43 minutes ago.’ ‘Shit. They’ll give me so much shit for leaving…’ ‘I don’t think they realised.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I told them you were off to the bathroom.’ ‘For four hours?’ Hank shrugged. ‘They didn’t seem to notice you leaving.’ ‘And you lied to them?’ ‘I can lie if it helps me archieve my mission.’ ‘I wish you could have lied yesterday.’ ‘About what?’ ‘Oh, fuck off, would’ya? Go get me some clothes, I’ll be up in a minute.’

They drove to the Eden-club in silence and Hank only half-way spoke up: ‘Connor? Can I ask you a question?’ ‘Of fucking course.’ ‘I only follow my mission. I am expected to follow my mission. I am made to obey. Yet me detecting an android amidst us as a deviant made you and your brother angry. What did I do wrong?’ ‘Hank, you… You did nothing wrong. But your mission may be wrong. I wouldn’t say all these androids rebelling and running away from their jobs and murdering people are good things. But that GV200? He was content working here. Deviant or not wouldn’t have made a difference. He loved my brother. He saved him. I can’t see what is wrong with that.’ ‘He wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to obey. He didn’t. That is wrong.’ ‘Okay, let me tell you from experience: Orders are not always perfect. Someone gives you an order thinking about all eventualities and meaning good. But in the end when you are there yourself, you might see something the one who gave that order didn’t expect. And then you should evaluate it yourself, not just blindly follow it.’ ‘But that would be against protocol.’ ‘If Gavin followed protocol my brother would be dead. And we got the perp anyways. So, he did the right thing.’ ‘He disobeyed’, Hank disagreed. ‘That can be the same thing’, Connor sighed and put on the radio to stop any further argument.

Investigating the crime at the Eden-club quickly got messier than thought. Hank managed to trace the blue-haired Tracy easily, but once he found her it was a blur of fast preconstruction and programmed responses. Connor was fighting a second android, but they both were remarkably competent, and Hank had to concentrate on his android completely. Somehow, they ended up outside, Hank jumping up from where he had fallen, gun in hand and aiming for the blue-haired Tracy. He could shoot. He could spare her. She was a deviant. Connor’s words were still in his head, otherwise he would have shot without hesitance. Sometimes disobeying and doing the right thing is the same. He loved him. Before he knew he had decided, the moment of choice had passed and the Tracy backed up, explaining herself. Hank was still overwhelmed, his software instability messing with his system. Why hadn’t he shot? Had he disobeyed? He watched them get away and flinched, when Connor sighed and turned to leave. ‘Maybe it’s better this way.’

-

The next weeks Richard had come back to work. But he was the shadow of the man he once had been. He wasn’t focussed on work, Connor often found him staring off into the distance. When he did work it was sloppy and not as thoroughly as in the past. He had been assigned a new partner at the end of the week and Connor had expected it to go to shit. But Richard was civil with the TI300 and they formed an efficient team. But it wasn’t like before. Richard was wasting away. His formerly neat and tidy appearance slacked, his hair was greasy and dishevelled and his favourite form of communication were a series of variating grunts. Connor couldn’t remember when the last time had been his brother smiled. Ever since Hank found him collapsed in his kitchen the android had apparently decided to take care of him as much as he was allowed, annoying him into eating properly and to stay away from the alcohol as much as possible. It didn’t do shit, he was still drunk most days, but he felt awful about it afterwards. Seeing Richard now slowly spiral into the same shithole, was an entirely different thing.

He wanted to help his brother, be there for him, but work quickly came in between him and his plans. More and more cases of deviancy arose and it was spreading like an illness. With Marcus protesting in the streets and it all being as peaceful as it could be, it got out of hand pretty fast. Detroit felt more and more like a forming warzone and less like a city. People fled to relatives outside the city or took a vacation. With the coming winter the streets were empty and everyone full of concern. Richard wasn’t able to work anymore. He couldn’t act against deviants and as the order came for SWAT to clear the streets and put all androids into holding camps, he refused as he was asked to join them. He requested leave from the police afterwards and only a lot of coaxing from Connor’s side let him give in to staying at his place. Whenever he came home now, Richard would be sitting on his couch huddled in a blanket and watching the news, their enormous dog Sumo in his lap. The dog wasn’t allowed there normally, but Connor couldn’t bring himself to telling Richard this. He needed comfort, so to hell with the state of the cushions. At least he didn’t drink. Richard had always been one to only drink on special occasions and maybe that saved him from wrecking his body even more. Some nights Connor could hear him cry in the living room and whenever Hank accompanied Connor home, he didn’t speak a word.

He still believed Gavin was alive. Connor saw the hope in his eyes when one of Marcus’ marches was covered by the news. He could see his hurt whenever another shooting of androids had been mentioned. He could see his anger when Cyberlife was interviewed. Connor wanted it to be true. That the GV200 was stored away in some lab and no matter what had been done to him, that at least he was still alive. He wanted that Marcus was successful. He wanted it all so badly. But he didn’t believe it.

He didn’t believe it, until it happened.

The androids were singing, the President had called the army off and Richard…

Richard was smiling.

[>next part]

[hbostolemysoul]

Band of Brothers fluff alphabet: Ronald Speirs

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

While Speirs appreciates many things about you physically, the thing that attracts him most to you is how you don’t seem to fear him like all the other soldiers. Unlike the band of idiots (as you lovingly call them) you don’t take rumours at face value, there is more to Speirs than a scary reputation.  

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Speirs had a not so pleasant childhood. So the whole family thing scares him a bit. The last thing he wants is for his child to grow up with someone who doesn’t know how to be a father. You understand where his hesitation comes from, it also provides you a starting point into reassuring him that he is already a better man/father than his was due to the fact that he is worrying over the wellbeing of your hypothetical children.

When baby Speirs does come along it is almost comical how frightened Ron looks as you plop the tiny human into his arms for the first time. In true Speirs fashion the two stare each other down until your newborn yawns and closes their eyes. Ron doesn’t smile much, but he smiled then (even though he denies it).  

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Ron spent most of the war alone in his own foxhole due to his reputation. He got used to sleeping alone until he joined Easy and you made it your mission to unravel the mystery that was Ronald Speirs. He would never admit to cuddling out loud…but there were times when he woke up with you cuddled into his side, and his arm may or may not have found its way around you, holding you just a bit closer.  

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Believe it or not, dancing. (most would believe not).

Ron is actually a wonderful dancer, and when its just the two of you, whether in your home or at a local bar he enjoys holding your close and swaying to the music.

E = Everything (You are my __ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“you are something else…” (said in response to you accepting the feared cigarette he offered you upon your first meeting)

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Ron is nothing, if not emotionally constipated. Knowing him he probably convinced himself that the tightening in his chest when he looked at you was due to indigestion.

He knew he loved you when you found him after Grant had been shot. He was angry, and everyone had given him a wide berth after he left the drunk replacement alive, and to the MPs. You just leaned against the door frame of his room and casually offered him a cigarette. The gesture calmed something in him, the raging fury behind his eyes dying out just a little bit. Your small smile when he took the aforementioned cigarette definitely didn’t help the tightening in his chest…he also now knew that he could not blame his feelings on indigestion anymore.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Ron is an intense guy. Most things with him are fiery and passionate. It isn’t until later in your relationship (where he feels more secure) that things become gentle, yet somehow more passionate than before.  

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Ronald Speirs does not hold hands…at least not in public, and definitely not around his men. More often then not his hand will find its way to your lower back, a gentle pressure that is all too quickly removed as he continues on his way. Most might find that infuriating but knowing Ron the way you do you know it's his way of checking in on you, and letting you know he is still there.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

You were one of the first to approach him other than Winters, Nixon, and Lipton, when he was reassigned to Easy company. You were genuinely friendly, a completely unexpected occurrence considering he knew the kinds of rumours that floated around about him. To further test if you were genuine he offered you a cigarette, you smiled and accepted pulling a lighter out of your pocket and offering the flame to him as well. Speirs knew then that you would be trouble.

Meanwhile, Perconte and Luz visibly froze in the background. Shooting fearful glances at each other as they watched in horror as you accepted without a moment’s hesitation. Speirs shot them a look soon after you left, it was in those few moments that both Luz and Perconte decided that this was a story that didn’t need to be shared after all.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Yes. Definitely yes. Will he admit to it? Hell no.

When you go out he is always touching you in some way, a hand at your back, or around your waist. It's not that he doesn’t trust you, or think that you aren’t capable of kicking ass should someone not understand the word no. It's more a reassurance to him. Ron is used to being alone, an outcast of sorts. He has a lot more insecurity than anyone (except you) may know. You can feel the way he pulls you a bit closer when other men look your way, you’ve learned to just lean into his touch and reassure him that you aren’t going anywhere.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

He did. The war was all but over, and in classic Easy fashion a majority of the men had been drinking steadily most of the evening, Ron included. You had taken over a shift at the medical station, so Roe would finally go get some god damned sleep. Speirs found his way in, made eye contact with you and just walked over and kissed you. You could taste the champagne on his lips, it was intense, but come to think of it most things about Ron were. When he broke away he just stared at you, gauging your reaction for a few moments. You just smiled, grabbed him by the collar and initiated another mind-blowing kiss.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

You do. You were being sent back home with some of the other guys (not by your own free will mind you) the army had been grateful for your service, but the idea of having a woman in war any longer than absolutely necessary put the higher-ups on edge. Ron had been avoiding you since he found out. He could be frustratingly elusive when he wanted to be. It took you almost an entire day before you tracked him down on some stupid balcony, the look he shot you was guarded. While things with Ron had been relatively new, he had opened up enough that you knew he had been distancing himself so it would hurt less when you “inevitably left him”. What he didn’t realize was that while you were physically being shipped back home, there was no way in hell that you were ‘leaving’ him. The speech you gave him was nothing short of inspirational. It took a lot to learn how to “operate a Speirs”, but you had finally cracked the code as he visibly relaxed as you pulled him into a gentle kiss. “You know I put up with your moody crap because I love you right?” you said half-jokingly, he just smiled and pulled you closer. Perhaps whispering the words into your hair as he did so.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

You waiting for him at the train station as he finally arrived back home. While he thought you were always beautiful, it was something else entirely to see you out of uniform and in civilian clothes. He never truly felt like he had a home before, but having you there waiting for him with watery eyes and a big smile changed that. You were his home.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Speirs had a habit of ‘collecting’ shiny things while you were together in Europe. It's safe to say that you were only slightly exasperated when packages of silver plates and other things began arriving to your home during the months that you were separated.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

White. Like the snow in Bastogne when he first met you. Even now when it snows Ron can still picture the way the soft snowflakes would find their way into your lashes and hair as ‘forced’ your way into his foxhole.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Ronald Speirs does not do pet names…until you are married, and the words ‘Mrs. Speirs’ being lightly rasped into your neck bring about a whole new meaning.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Ron likes the old-timey silver lighters. He has an old one he found over in Germany that he carries with him to this day.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Bed. He likes to stay in bed, more specifically he likes YOU in bed with him.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Ron doesn’t do emotions. So the first time he saw you cry he had a bit of internal panic. Is it safe to touch you? Should he get you a tissue? Does he need to go hurt someone? It isn’t until you grumble to him to just ‘get over here and hold me’ that he finally starts to figure things out. Safe to say he can now pick up on your moods quite easily, and whenever possible already has you in his arms before the tears begin to fall.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He is more of a listener. Comes from a lifetime of being a loner you guess. But he loves watching the way you light up and get animated about certain things when you talk.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

He smokes. Which he knows he should try and quit, especially with baby Speirs around. It’s worst for him at night. You often times find your bed empty in the middle of the night, but the gentle snores (plural Daddy Speirs + baby Speirs) coming from the nursery put at ease. When you first started noticing his absences you would go looking for him. You would always find him in the nursery, the baby held gently yet securely to his chest as he softly spoke to them, sometimes there would be tiny baby coo’s in response.  

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Now that you have ‘domesticated your Speirs’ he isn’t all that showy. But you’ll be damned if you ever forget how he would smile cheekily as he wandered around Germany carrying as much silver as possible.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

It would be small, probably a courthouse thing. He isn’t close to his family, and yours lived so far away that it didn’t make sense for them to travel so far. Regardless your family sent their blessings for you and Ron. It wasn’t some fairy tale wedding, but it suited the both of your just fine.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Maps- (covered by Freya Ridings)

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Yep. Small and to the point. Ron honestly would have been okay with a big wedding if that is what you had wanted. All that really mattered to him was that you wanted to be his wife.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

You get a cat. Mostly because your nosey neighbors hate them, and Ron hates your nosey neighbors.

[divine-daenerys]

GoT viewers double standards when it comes to Daenerys Targaryen

So I’ve been watching a whole lot of Game of Thrones reaction videos and reading the comments on them and whatnot, and all this Daenerys is cruel/turning into the Mad Queen/unfit ruler bullshit that I find wherever I look is really getting on my nerves.

So, to get this irritation off my chest and to point out just how hypocritical this fandom can be, let’s draw some comparisons between Daenerys’ actions that bring her scorn and similar actions by other characters that are either rewarded or ignored. Do keep in mind this is not meant to bash any other characters, simply to point out the hypocrisy of some of the people who watch this show.

On using fire in battle-

Tyrion uses wildfire in the battle of Blackwater bay to attack Stannis’ fleet, said wildfire kills the majority of people on those ships including Ser Davos’ son(s), yet he’s praised by the fandom for his great thinking and strategizing.

Daenerys uses Drogon in battle against the Lannisters in season seven, doesn’t use Drogon to burn the entire line the Lannister soldiers formed to avoid killing more people than necessary although she could have done that and cut her Dothraki losses by more than half, yet the response is overwhelmingly negative, calling her a mad queen for utilizing a weapon available to her.

On poetic justice-

Cersei kills Elleria Sand’s daughter the same way she killed her own daughter, keeping them in the dungeons together so Elleria can watch her daughter rot for the rest of her life. Everyone views this as justice and cheers on Cersei for her actions (including me, I liked the sand snakes but that was a great scene).

Daenerys crucifies the Masters in Mereen, just as they crucified 163 slave children, to show them their cruelty would not be tolerated under her rule. She then grants their families permission to take them down and bury them properly, a courtesy those children did not have.

On taking responsibility for children’s actions-

Joffrey was a terrible cunt, he tortured animals, whores, Sansa, and anyone else who bothered him. He was cruel and entitled and an all around terrible human being, tormenting all those around him, yet his actions were never punished or even reprimanded by Cersei.

For lack of better comparison (even though Drogon is my precious baby), Daenerys compensated all farmers who lost animals to Drogon’s fire three times their losses, and the moment a child’s corpse was laid at her feet she locked the dragons away in fear that they would harm another innocent, regardless of the pain it caused her and the rift it put in their relationship.

On using fire as an execution method-

Stannis burned people alive both as a method of execution (e.g: Mance Rayder) and as a sacrifice to R’hllor (e.g: his own daughter!!), yet until Shireen nobody truly gave a fuck that many died at the stake by his and Milessandre’s hands. Also a friendly reminder that being burned at the stake is one of the most painful ways to die, considering the fire slowly works its way up a person’s body, making them feel the prolonged torture, rather than engulf them completely the way dragon fire does, which as the dragons got bigger killed people in seconds.

Daenerys uses fire on the Tarlys and on a Master in Mereen, and she’s immediately compared to the mad king and given shit by the viewers. Do keep in mind the Mad King burned people for entertainment and laughed as they burned, while anyone with eyes and ears can see that Daenerys doesn’t enjoy doing it.

On betrayal-

While we’re on the topic of the Tarlys, remember Roose Bolton? Remember how much people raged when he betrayed Robb? When the lord of a house swears his vows, his vow is first to their Liege lord/house, then to the crown. The Boltons were sworn to House Stark, they betrayed House Stark, they took Winterfell, and they participated in the death of their liege/king in the north. People raged and hated the Boltons for their betrayal, and frankly, nobody really gave a fuck when Roose Bolton was killed by Ramsay, or they were happy he finally died.

Now, House Tarly was sworn to House Tyrell, they betrayed House Tyrell, they took Highgarden, and they participated in the death of the last of that house, Olenna, sound familiar? They were then executed for treason by Daenerys, and the fandom went batshit crazy calling Daenerys mad and impulsive.

On allegiances-

While we’re on the topic of that damn execution, people gave Daenerys shit because the people who bent the knee after the battle were doing so out of fear, thus she must be a bad queen. This is of course completely forgetting the slaves she freed, the unsullied, and the Dothraki, who all follow her out of respect and love.

Cersei is followed purely because she is feared. Everybody hates her, yet with the propaganda she spread about Daenerys, the people somehow see her as the lesser of two evils (yeah, right). There’s no need to wake the old debate of whether it is best for a ruler to be feared or loved.

On demanding Jon to bend the knee-

Daenerys has worked since Khal Drogo’s death towards taking the seven kingdoms, she took cities and freed slaves and tried to do good on her way while also practicing to eventually rule from the Iron Throne. She finally gets to Westeros, and a man she doesn’t know comes in claiming that monsters that were thought to be fairy tales up until this point are real, telling her he needs the armies she worked hard to gain, the dragons she loves more than life itself, and needs her to turn away from her lifelong goal, while providing no proof of the threat’s existence and refusing to pledge allegiance to her. We all knew Jon was telling the truth, but she didn’t, and she had no reason to believe him either. Now, with all that in mind, is it really so hard to understand why she refused him? And considering he was asking for her life’s work, isn’t it common sense that she would demand his loyalty? She would be sending her people to die in a war for him, it’s not unreasonable for her to ask him to bend the knee in return. She did what she could with what he was giving her, she allowed him to mine the Dragonglass and provided the supplies and men he needed to do so, even though she didn’t have to do that.

On attacking King’s Landing-

Daenerys refused to attack king’s landing once she arrived in Westeros because she didn’t want unnecessary death, because she didn’t want to harm the small folk who have already suffered through enough wars. Yes, she lost her temper at Tyrion and almost attacked KL, but she listened to council and attacked the enemy army instead.

Meanwhile, Cersei blew up a sept full of people with wildfire, the damage to the sept likely killing thousands around it as well, and smiled as she watched it burn. Who also tended to smile while watching wildfire burn things? Oh yeah, the mad king.

Honestly, I could go on forever with those comparisons but my fingers are cramping. So, Daenerys is not a mad queen. She is not cruel, she is not emotionless, and she’s the best chance Westeros has. She does not torture and kill people for entertainment (her initial refusal to reopen the fighting pits and clear disgust when she did), she always attempts to motivate and inspire people to join her willingly before resorting to violence, she cares deeply for those around her (her anger when Ser Barristan was killed, her immediate switch in attitude when that Second Sons leader threatened Missandei, her tears when she found out Ser Jorah had greyscale, despite his initial treachery).

Yes, she’s had disagreements with her council, but what ruler hasn’t? That happens because she made an effort to surround herself with people who would tell her if they thought she wasn’t doing the right thing, instead of surrounding herself with people who listen to her every whim regardless of the harm it may cause. That alone makes her better than most of the kings and queens Westeros has had.

Thank you for coming to my very frustrated TED talk🤷🏻‍♀️

[strrne]

Give Me a Signal, Ch.5

Chapters: 5/?

Word count (so far): 13043

AO3  Ch.1 Ch.2  Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.6  Ch.7

Summary: When Padmé Amidala is unable to contact Coruscant while negotiating a loan on Scipio, the Senate suspects trouble, and sends Anakin Skywalker to go check on her. Of course, the resourceful senator isn’t really in any trouble – don’t flatter yourself, Rush Clovis – but there’s definitely some brewing.

(or; rewrite of the tcw S6 Clovis arc; anidala + a gen very plotty plot)

Chapter 5

”Have you seen my 87’s?!” Anakin demanded from Obi-Wan before the Jedi Master had barely taken a step into his former Padawan’s temple quarters.

Obi-Wan tilted his head, not entirely thrilled with what he was looking at. Tousled hair sounded too deliberate, too carefully arranged into some roguishly appealing look – no, this was disheveled hair, framing a pair of red-black under-eyes and a matching scowl.

“Your eighty-sevens?” Obi-Wan echoed, as Anakin didn’t bother waiting for an answer, and instead dove headfirst into an already half-scoured drawer, and started tossing things out, “Well that depends. Would that be the 87 times you've crashed your ship within the last week?”

“Ha, ha,” Anakin interjected, now doing some sort of handstand on top of the only barely heavy enough piece of furniture, and still somehow managing to rummage the contents.

“Or the 87 times you’ve already rolled your eyes at me during this conversation? In both of which cases, yes, I was there to witness it.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“Or could you possibly be referring to the 87 conversations we haven’t had about you and Senator Amidala?”

Anakin turned his head, but Obi-Wan was having trouble taking him seriously in his present position; hands gripping on the drawer edges, toes almost hitting the ceiling, Jedi tunics and undershirts falling all over his reddening face. The Jedi Master shook his head, with fondness. Was it beneath the Chosen One to do something like a regular person? At least he once used to find new and exciting ways to assert his maverick status. Now the attempts were just getting more mundane and desperate.  

“Anakin, get down from there.”

At his Master’s orders, Anakin performed his 88th crash landing within the last week, making Obi-Wan grin and shake his head. The younger Jedi just gave a 'go on, if you dare' sort of gesture with as much dignity as he could muster.

Obi-Wan straightened his shoulders - he needed to do some mustering of his own - and while he did, Anakin took shelter behind his tinkering table. He grabbed a seemingly random tool and challenged it to a staring contest.  

“Anakin, you’ve met Satine,” Obi-Wan finally began. “You know I once harbored… feelings for her.” The Jedi Master sighed, already exhausted, wondering how deeply he would have to delve into this topic until he got something out of Anakin. The boy's shields were up - which in itself was an indication of something.

“It’s not that we’re not allowed to have these feelings. It’s… natural.”

Anakin made a barely audible, frustrated sound. Obi-Wan felt that this conversation was dangerously close to turning into another generic lecture about attachments - which Anakin seemed to all but tune out these days - not to mention an excavation of some painful memories of his own. He'd have to try something new. The 'fate of the Republic' could be at stake, according to his bad feeling anyway - and if that turned out not to be the case in the end, well, then he would formally renounce feelings for all eternity.

On a whim, Obi-Wan spluttered out a string of words that neither Anakin nor himself could make out.

“What?”

Obi-Wan drew a deep breath.

“What exactly is the nature of the relationship between you and… Padmé?”

Anakin stared at him, with caution in his eyes, although it seemed the outermost layer of surprise had been scraped off by Obi-Wan’s initial forewarning. He now sat down behind the table, holding in his hand some kind of model spaceship. He peered inside the minuscule cockpit, pulled out some sort of funny-looking wrench, then put it down in obvious disappointment.

“A 44 won’t cut it,” he muttered under his breath.

“Anakin, answer the question.”

“You didn't answer mine. For your information," he brandished the tiny tool like a weapon, "a 87 looks like this, but bigger, and with a sort of a mount between the jaws. Oh, and the Senator and I are just friends.”

Obi-Wan scratched his head, wishing he had written down the lines he had thought up in the shower this morning. He had tried to approach the topic softly; tried to – as they called it – relate to him. What could he have possibly done with Padmé that he had not with Satine?

“Anakin, I have eyes.”

“Yes, Master, and let me just say, that dreary tunic really brings out the color.”

Dreary? Obi-Wan clasped the hem instinctively. So uncalled-for...

“I can sense that you’re upset about her working with Rush Clovis.”

This at least brought about a reaction - an immediate one - as Anakin slammed another bewildering piece of durasteel against the table.

“Last time they worked together,” Anakin snarled, “he almost got Senator Amidala killed, and I would’ve been responsible.”

“How so? She is her own person, and responsible for her own life.”

Anakin glared at him, recognizing the insinuation.

“What do you expect me to say?” he scoffed, before a very curious expression spread on his features. He paused for a moment, and his voice faltered ever so slightly as he added, without blinking, “That we have been secretly married for the past two years? Hoping to start a little family once this blasted war finally ends? To hell with the Order and their rules?”

The words startled Obi-Wan before he fully registered their meaning. But as soon as he did, he began examining them more closely. There were two options really: this was pure, unadulterated sarcasm, a form of communication he himself was dearly fond of. Or this was the so-called ‘lying by telling the truth’ ploy, a maneuver he had also used in the past. Usually very effective… usually.

“...Alright then,” Obi-Wan said simply, trying to process the notion. “Big wedding?"

Anakin seemed to think they were still trading jokes.

“Bit noisy."

"Noisy?"

"Threepio wouldn't stop making speeches."

And perhaps they were? A tinge of doubt seeped into Obi-Wan’s mind. It was just too ridiculous, too bold, even of him. Not to mention the very level-headed Senator… no. The insolent kid was just trying to avoid another scolding by playing off the whole thing as a joke altogether.

Anakin, a married man? For two years… before even being knighted? Marriage – with a ceremony! Official documents! Probably some kind of symbolic jewelry… and a devotion far more passionate, far more selfish than that of serving the Galaxy. If it was the truth, there was no sermon spectacular enough that he could give. Why had he ever bothered? This whelp was already laughing soundlessly in his face, and so was that wily politician… his supposed wife. His wife!

Obi-Wan mentally shook his head for even having entertained the idea. Something was going on between them, that much was for certain, but this… this was too much.

“Very good, Anakin, you can quit making fun of me now.”

-

Clovis closed his eyes and tried again. A lot was riding on the success of this investigation. A good majority of the Senators didn’t trust him, his colleagues would sooner or later find out he was attempting to bring them down, a Jedi Knight was most likely plotting his murder, and Padmé...  

No – most importantly, for once in his life, for the love of everything the war had not yet tainted… he wanted to do the right thing.

The analysis sounded a bleep on its arrival.

It had come up blank again.

“Clovis, I’m exhausted,” Padmé confessed, getting up from the couch and walking up to the window. “Please, answer me honestly – is the evidence adequate? Is it enough to convict the Core Five?”

Clovis thought about the question long and hard, leaning his head on his fist, until his knuckles almost penetrated the skin on his lower jaw.

“It’s… it's enough to bring them to trial.”

Padmé spun around, running her fingers through her fairly simple, curled hairstyle.

“And when they do stand trial…” she twirled a ringlet around her finger.

“Padmé, I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” Clovis confessed, no longer bothering to hide his concern. He made a frustrated wave at the screen, “I think… I think this might be the wrong file. It shows that the accounts exists, and that they’re not grouped with the regular accounts, and have some special features… but it won't display any details, and it -well, you can't see the money flowing from the Republic account to these ones. They can simply insist that these are just some empty accounts they created as a spare, or something. We can keep digging further, but…”

“Nothing will likely turn up. I understand,” Padmé said, turning her head away. Clovis put down the processor and went up to join her at the window. She was very evidently keeping a professional distance, but, like Clovis, seemed to have dropped some of her politician's pretenses of self-possession and stoicism.

“What are we going to do, Clovis? Even if they fail to notice the stolen files, they'll never let us into the vault again.”

Clovis gave a deep sigh, motioning restlessly without saying anything, until Padmé was compelled to ask him what he was thinking about.

“The thing is, Padmé… I don't think the Senate even needs proof. I don't think they'll wait for proof.”

“Why would you think that?” Padmé questioned, sounding almost shocked – or affronted.

“You saw how they welcomed me. Everything from 'This is a most interesting development'” to… 'we will keep a watchful eye on you, Clovis'. They still see me as a traitor and a Separatist. They probably think I'm trying to hide the evidence, with- with some kind of reverse psychology trick. What I'm trying to say is, they don't want the evidence from me. Should we manage to acquire it, they'll only accept it because of you, because you're here to legitimize it.”

Padmé lowered her eyes, nodding gravely as she stroked her embroidered blue sleeve.

“But trust me,” Clovis went on, “they will get the evidence. They'll find a way into that vault alright. You see, it's not just me they despise. It's not just the Core Five that they don't trust. You've already heard the whispers, haven't you? They hate my home and my people, and seem to think we want to pick a fight with the Republic.”

“Clovis, that's–“ Padmé began, now definitely shocked and affronted. Clovis just shook his head.

“There are already rumors going around about what's really going on with our holo signal. It's all over the holonet. They're saying the Clan as well as the police department employ private networks to communicate in secret, and that all the mechanics are all bribed into not doing anything. And why is our law enforcement suddenly under suspicion? Any guesses? Why, it is because a pair of Jedi Generals recently got themselves arrested. Your Senate now believes all our laws archaic and worthless - and no doubt, cannot wait for an excuse to invade Scipio and instate the Republic constitution at the earliest opportunity. Some sources have already speculated that Skywalker's imprisonment was some kind of open declaration of war – which we haven't been able to correct, and you know why? Because of the connectivity issues. It's a vicious circle."

Clovis paused, but not nearly long enough for Padmé to interject. In fervor, he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, causing her to recoil and look away, “You have heard the whispers, right? Or have you just willfully turned your head away, as you Republic Senators always do? For pity's sake…I overheard the Supreme Chancellor himself badmouthing the Muuns and making a fuss over his golden boy Skywalker. He is the most powerful person in the Galaxy, Padmé, and if that is what he thinks of my Muun brothers...”

Padmé was still silent, but her expression seemed to betray more knowledge than she let on. Before Clovis could question her about it, she spoke instead, “Clovis, I don't pretend to have all the answers or even the consolations. So forgive me if I ask you a question instead. Something I still don't understand.”

“Do tell.”

“General Kenobi told me that the law is still technically valid, but mostly overlooked, and, I imagine, rarely ever applicable. Why, in this rare case when it did apply, was it then enforced? Who brought it up? And how did it all turn into such a complete and utter farce? I'm afraid I was too busy with the contract on Scipio to truly appreciate who was responsible.”

Clovis sighed, trying to buy himself some time to calculate what parts of the truth he wanted to tell – as well as ponder if he even knew the entirety of it.

It had all begun when he had – rudely – eavesdropped on Padmé after she had initially refused to cooperate with him, only to learn that her holo call to Coruscant hadn't gotten through. She had surmised that the Senate would suspect trouble and send 'help' – which in the Republic's case, always seemed to mean a pair of 'peacekeepers' with rock-levitating abilities. He had surmised that because Padmé was involved, said help would most certainly turn out to be General Skywalker, with whom he'd already had one mutually unpleasant encounter – whom he had since looked into – just enough to confirm his suspicion that the man was neither a mere pilot nor in any way indifferent to Padmé Amidala.

For a moment, he had accepted the man's arrival as a necessary evil – like a tropical storm on a planet one had studied and still chosen to live on – until he’d realized it wasn’t just his face the gale would whisk against.

He had studied Scipian law long and meticulously. He had worked hard to acquire this position. He’d always been driven and diligent, he had memorized every letter, even the most nugatory footnotes – because he was going to be a hero; because he was personally going to make sure that the negotiations with the Republic would proceed smoothly, whether or not there would be a corruption to expose. He would regain Republic's trust as their representative. He would do everything right, and nothing, nothing – no trifling detail nor full-blown scandal – was going to jeopardize that.

That's when he had remembered one of those trifling details – Article 356; the correct negotiation protocol. What if someone else had done their homework? What if the trifling detail was a full-blown scandal just waiting to happen?  What if there was just one high-ranking Muun official who shared that overzealous servant boy’s sensibilities? No – not on his watch – preventing any and all of such scenarios was his personal responsibility.

The fact that it would probably be Skywalker he'd get to send packing was just an added bonus.

Of course, he wouldn’t be there personally. The Jedi he expected to welcome (not) didn't seem like the rule-abiding type, and he definitely wouldn't take any orders from him. He was better off keeping this from Padmé as well – namely, the fact that he had personally made sure a Republic scout wouldn't be allowed to ascertain her safety – law-based reason or not, he had yet to regain her trust.

Clovis had sent an anonymous memo with the Clan’s signet to one of the lower-level assistants, with an order to contact the law enforcement and have them deport the Jedi on their arrival. Padmé would only find out much later, and none of this could be traced back to him.

What had happened at the spaceport, he still didn’t know. He did suspect the Jedi to be violent, if not downright psychotic. If he had refused to leave, his arrest had probably been unavoidable  – much like bad weather. But even then, Clovis had never expected the police to cling onto an archaic law with such stubbornness, to the point of tainting and almost spoiling the contract negotiation.

He knew that the Clan held power even the police department – hence their ability to finally incorporate Skywalker's release into the contract – so why even have a symbolic investigation? Why even hold him at all, if he was just going to be released anyway without charges?

He had to admit, it did almost seem like someone was purposely trying to cause a public outcry.

As well as a personal one. For Clovis was still convinced he’d eventually have to brave a full-blown hurricane; one with a personal vendetta against a mountain cabin that had already crumbled once and only newly been rebuilt.

They had also released the other Jedi, Kenobi, early. Why only him? What were the odds that someone else, besides himself, had a personal aversion to General Skywalker, and wanted to go about expressing it in the completely opposite way? Pretty high, now that he thought about it. But really, what was the point of angering an already angry man – who would benefit from that anger? What was the use?

“Padmé, I… I don't know.”

-

At midnight, in his quarters, Clovis was roused by a surprise visitor – or wherever life-sized holograms landed on the sliding scale of trespassing.

“Hello, Clovis. Have you had your fill of desperation? Would you quite prefer acquiring the correct data, exposing the full extent of the Banking Clan's corruption in a single, easily accessible file?"

[h-eckers]

Not Northside Material - Part 1

A/N: It’s me, back from the dead and this time… sweeter. Anyway, here have this. The next few parts are already written, I just have to edit them and I’ll post them depending on the reaction to this one because its been a while and I’m rusty, ya kno? so pls let me know what you think.

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

Summary: There’s a new girl at Southside High and that means new entertainment for the Serpents. 

Word Count: 2,625

Warnings: Swear words, Serpents, and that’s all so far

Southside High was much like any other high school in the respect that its attendees were all separated into their own little groups; cliques of people huddled together in hallways. If you’d been there long enough you could walk into a classroom and draw lines around the groups like warring sides of a battle crammed into a confined space and forced to sit amicably. Though, that was, for the most part, exactly the case. 

No one stayed a loner for long. It’s not that every new kid didn’t try to avoid these ‘friendly’ factions like the plague, some lasted a week, some a day, some even less. Eventually, the temptation of not having your skull stomped into shards by an angry gang member with nothing better to do overcomes, and the appeal of group protection becomes necessity rather than a social nicety. 

Of course there were the big groups, the gangs that pushed too many tables together so they could crowd around in intimidating solidarity over the rest of the students. The Serpents and the Ghoulies were the worst, and it was fair to say, neither were big on recruitment. It wasn’t as though sign-up sheets decorated the halls with cartoon snakes and emoji ghosts, they were tight- knit gangs of violence and drugs and an over abundant supply of leather jackets to go around. 

If you somehow managed to catch the attention of a Ghoulie and had a penchant for drug pushing, old cars, outdated gothic design and possibly cannibalism, and you weren’t petrified to approach the group. Then maybe, just maybe, they might consider offering you the option of proving yourself. Even once you’d proved yourself, you’d have to survive initiation.

The Ghoulies were the easier group to infiltrate of the two. The Serpents ranks were nearly impenetrable without blood ties, you could attempt to prove your loyalty from the outside but it was a dangerous manoeuvre to be seen as desperate; kissing up to get into the inner circle. The fact of the matter was, in order to enter the pit of snakes, you had to be someone related or someone undoubtedly special, or else you weren’t a Serpent. 

This system, however terrifying, did mean that every new kid who walked through the doors of Southside High, immediately become the week’s entertainment. So when she arrived, the school stopped immediately, all eyes diverting to the fresh meat getting caught in the metal detector and she wasn’t hard to spot. 

“Are all of the Northsider’s defecting now?” Fangs snarled under his breath, his gaze cast over his shoulder to watch the new girl try to find her locker in a hallway of leering eye all trained on her. 

“It’s an infection or something,” Toni laughed bitterly, pulling her jacket from her otherwise nearly barren locker. “Like herpes.” 

Fangs snorted a laugh in response, Sweet Pea only sneered in agreement as he turned, leaning against his locker to watch the new attraction. “Finally found her locker,” he paused as a smirk came over his features, his friends following suit, “right in between two Ghoulies as well.” 

“Tough draw.” Jughead only murmured quietly, his excited vigour absent among his friends. He recognised her distantly, he’d spoken to her for the ‘Blue and Gold’, he shared a class or two with her, and now she was here. 

“Another prep of yours, Jug?” Sweet Pea chuckles, his insults had taken on a less hostile tone now, but they still came none the less in that signature mocking smirk. 

“Not exclusively,” he shrugged, eyes lingering on the familiar girl in the blue jeans and grey sweater, simple and yet wildly out of place in a sea of black and leather, “she did go to Riverdale though… I wonder what happened.” 

“She’s cute,” Sweet Pea scoffed, an offhand compliment that no one expected to stand alone, “I give her a day and a half before she’s hanging with the heads.” He chuckled, finally diverting his attention to a group gathered at the end of the hall, each clutching their striped straws of illicit activity. It was all they did.  

“Who cares?” Fangs hollered, “Fresh meat!” His voice rang out through a hall filled otherwise with mutters, what followed was definitely unexpected. 

A loud slam rang out almost immediately after the words left his lips, and all eyes that had managed to divert, clicked back to her instantly. Her fist was balled against the slammed locker, her eyes smouldering in Fangs’ direction, no hint of fear or embarrassment, just anger that was barely leashed. Everyone stared on in a shocked disbelief at the Northsider with the fire in her eyes, waiting for words to come. None did. After a long moment, she closed her eyes, took a long breath, and turned her back, walking away in what she assumed was the direction of her first class. 

“What the fuck!?” Fangs hissed, directly at Jughead who stood in tight lipped silence, trying not to laugh or say something he shouldn’t. 

“She’s, uh… just maybe leave her to the Ghoulies.” He said, hoping that would tempt them away from confrontation with her, he knew enough about her life to assume she was more than she looked. Even so, he was well aware that when it came down to it, he wouldn’t let the Ghoulies get to her either. 

“Yeah sure, Jones.” Fangs scoffed angrily, clearly prepared to disobey him, “I’ll just let the Northside bitch humiliate me.” And with that he stormed off, followed by Toni who was barely containing a laugh at her friend’s expense. 

“What’s her name?” Sweet Pea asked, nothing casual in his voice, something underlying that Jughead could barely place as curiosity. 

“It’s Y/N, to be honest, if anyone else was going to end up here it was going to be her.” Jughead admitted, no sarcasm or derision in his voice, just honesty. Sweet Pea raised an eyebrow to the new Serpent. 

“Oh yeah, why’s that?” There was a dangerous edge to the question that dared Jughead to say something negative, to put down the Southside somehow.  

“I mean this in the best way possible, but she’s not exactly Northside material.” He shut his locker with a soft laugh, remembering all of the few memories he had of her. 

“In what way?” Sweet Pea presses on, his interest only increasing as he followed Jughead to class, a class they didn’t share. 

“Why do you care?” Jughead did nothing suppress the frown that was fighting its way onto his face. 

“She’s new, I wanna know if the next weeks going to be interesting or if I should go to my own classes?” He shrugged nonchalantly but his eyes flicked rapidly around the hall gave him away. He was seeking her out, and that put Jughead on edge, Sweet Pea noticed, he only smirked. 

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of entertainment.” He said in an almost begrudging manner, patting Sweet Pea‘s shoulder and watching the taller boy refocus. 

“Anything I should know? Warning for what I’m up against?” The teasing tone was back, but Jughead’s eyes darkened immediately, seriousness seeping further into his expression. 

“Sweet Pea, I know you and I know what you’re capable of,” he paused, “but I’m telling you to leave this one alone.” 

“Or what?” He said mockingly, shoving past Jughead to peer into the classroom Jug was headed towards, that damned smirk never leaving Sweet Pea’s face, as he gestured into the classroom, towards the unfamiliar girl, sitting in the back row, head down as the students around her didn’t even try to hide their staring. “She’ll hurt me?” He scoffed softly, not waiting for an answer, wandering through the door and joining Toni on the far side. She wasn’t fazed that he had wandered into a class he didn’t take, not with the new girl there. 

Jughead lingered a moment outside the door, Y/N raised her head slightly and immediately caught Jughead’s eyes, a soft smile came into her face, Jughead only smiled back, giving a half-hearted wave as Sweet Pea’s question played back in his mind.

‘She’ll hurt me?’ It was an innocent enough question, after all, Y/N wasn’t very intimidating to look at, but it meant nothing. The question was innocent, it was the answer that made Jughead’s heart heavy with a certain kind of worry. 

“She could.” He muttered, entirely to himself, “She might.” 

———————————————————

“She’s already lasted longer than I thought.” Toni smiled, her friends all gathered around their table as they watched on. 

“Well I’d say her times almost up,” Fangs scoffed quietly, Y/N had managed to keep to herself for three days now, which was admittedly longer than most, “the Ghoulies have been eyeing her since her little locker performance.” 

“You think they’ll try to get to her?” Toni asked, her eyes flicking back to the group of Ghoulies and their predatory stares all directed towards Y/N. “What do you think, Jug?”  

“Maybe.” He bit his lip, concern etched in his face. 

“Don’t you have a girlfriend, Jones?” Sweet Pea grunted, successfully drawing Jughead’s attention. 

“Yeah, Why?” He mumbled. 

“You’re staring at the new chick a lot for a dude with a girlfriend.” Sweet Pea shrugged, his own gaze drifting back to the aforementioned ‘new chick’, she didn’t look like anything special to him. She was quiet, plain, she looked too soft; she was a Northsider, even if she did jump ship to his school. 

“She’s just…” he trailed off then, sudden movement right on the corner of his vision drew him back, it was a Ghoulie. Jughead watched them head towards her and reacted without thinking, “just a friend.” He muttered as he stood and stride quickly away from his table. 

Y/N only looked up when a boy she didn’t recognise slammed his fist down on the opposite side of her table. She jumped slightly, locking eyes with someone unfamiliar, her stomach turning. It wasn’t unexpected, she’d figured that eventually someone would challenge her, because she was alone, unprotected, and mostly because she came from the Northside. 

Just as a sentence appeared in her head, she was cut off, Jughead pushed on the Ghoulies shoulder, watching him stumble for half a second before turning to the other boy with a growl that bordered on inhuman. “What’s your problem Serpent?” He spat, baring his teeth to Jughead in a half snarl, half sneer. 

“She’s spoken for.” There was a moment of tension then that made her want to get up and run, or maybe get up and start throwing punches, for the moment at least, she chose neither. 

“You sure?” The Ghoulie asked, puffing out his chest and getting so close to Jughead that they were chest to chest. Neither seemed ready to back down. “Cause it’s been three days and none of your Serpent scum have come to collect her.” 

“What do you think I’m doing over here now?” Jughead growled back, shoving the other boy’s chest and forcing him backwards. The look in their eyes was enough to tell that a fight was about three seconds from breaking out, and she wasn’t exactly keen on jumping into the firing line where she could avoid it. It wasn’t just them either, the moment Jughead made contact the Ghoulies arched up, the Serpent’s a second behind them as they prepared to run into a fight if one started. 

“Alright boys, calm down.” Y/N voice was calm and measured, loud enough that the whole cafeteria could hear, “If I’m not mistaken, it’s entirely my decision who speaks for me.”  

They looked at her then, and here ‘they’ means everyone in the immediate vicinity, though most intensely it was Jughead and the Ghoul who had either intended to harass or recruit her. They were waiting; waiting for her to pick an alliance that would define her loyalty from now on. Her eyes flicked to those of a boy she’d know vaguely since she was five years old, and then to the seat across from her, beckoning him to sit down with her. Jughead smirked, ramming his shoulder into the other boys unnecessarily as he sat down, the Ghoul only snarled at them, retreating back to his friends. 

“Wow, Jughead, you’ve really acclimatised to life on the Southside, haven’t you?” She laughed softly, watching the severe look on Jughead’s face fade into a smile.  

“Desperate times, I guess.” He sighed, his whole body relaxing as he spoke to her, she was maybe the only person he’d spoken to lately who wasn’t involved in any of the drama that had plagued his life recently. 

“Well, maybe it’s not responsible to say so but I think snake skin suits you, you look like a badass, Jones.” She chuckled, even though her voice was slightly teasing and he couldn’t keep the smile from his face; that was the single best reaction he’d gotten so far to being a Serpent. There was a comfortable pause between them in which they both just smiled dumbly at each other, until he sighed.

“You know I have to ask…” he trailed off and her expression faltered, recovering just as fast as it had gone, she shrugged, knowing exactly what it was that he wanted to ask about. 

“My parents kicked me out, and everyone was always saying I belong on the Southside anyway so here I am.” It was something she talked about so casually that Jughead might have miss d how serious it was if he wasn’t paying close attention. 

“They kicked you out? Shit, Y/N, why? And where the hell are you staying?” Jughead leaned further across the table towards her and she rolled her eyes at his concern. 

“I got in another fight with Chuck and they found out about the tattoos, and because that didn’t fit with their cute little family image they kicked me out and told everyone I ran away.” She mumbled bitterly, pushing her food around her plate. 

Meanwhile, across the lunch room, the Serpents were watching on with rapt interest. No one had expected Jughead to step in and to sit down across from her, to be talking to her the way he was, it automatically meant that anyone watching on expected her to be under Serpent protection. “What the fuck is he doing?” Fangs hissed to his friends, Toni only shrugged. 

“I don’t know but she doesn’t seems as bad as the other Northsiders he’s friends with.” Toni tried to defend, tilting her head towards the conversation. 

“You think he likes her?” Sweet Pea interjected randomly, his voice rising above and silencing his friends. 

“No way, he’s with Betty.” Toni raised an eyebrow at her friend, she could see it in Sweet Pea’s eyes, he was planning something, and something he probably shouldn’t be. 

“So? They seem pretty…. friendly for someone he claims he didn’t know that well.” The taller boy shrugged, a small smirk on his lips as he didn’t even try to tear his eyes away. He didn’t like Jughead, it wasn’t a secret, they were Serpents and so he had stopped tormenting him, but that didn’t mean he liked him. He was just contractually obligated to cope with him. What that did mean, was Sweet Pea was always out for an opportunity to fuck with him in the subtlest way possible whenever there was an opportunity and this was an opportunity for the ages. 

“What are you thinking, Sweets?” Fangs questioned, a devilish grin on his lips as he watched the gears turn in his best friend’s mind, eyes fixed on Jughead and the new girl.  

“I’m thinking we go and meet and our new friend.” He drew out the last word slowly as he stood, closely followed by Toni, Fangs, and a few other interest Serpents. 

tagging @southsidepea bc i promised i would 

[sarissophori]

The Records Of Aidon, Chapter 9

       IX—

         The day after my meeting with Anhíl, I was notified that he had gone missing. The magistrate didn’t seem overly concerned by this and carried on with his usual business, almost avoiding every opportunity to discuss it with me. I went to his aides with the same questions, and they wanted less to do with me. I even asked the humans in the colony if they were aware of anything, but they said they knew nothing –they did say, however, that I was starting to make the magistrate uncomfortable; his aides were coming to them and giving orders not to talk to me.

       I felt some of Anhíl’s mistrust begin to inhabit me. I looked up the remaining members of my team still in the colony and called them to a meeting in the science chamber of Explorer Six, just to be sure. If the magistrate was getting suspicious enough to monitor my movements and words, I wanted to be in a place I was sure he couldn’t see or hear me.

       Only Sato, Tíun and Zalín came. Disappointment in numbers aside, I wasted no time telling them about my conversation with Anhíl and what he said, even showing them the data he gave me before his disappearance. Their reactions were what I expected: initial skepticism and disbelief, supported by questions I couldn’t answer without risking speculation.

       “This doesn’t make sense” Zalín said. “Postponing, even reversing human gene studies is hardly a crime. Why hide it?”

       “Because we’ve spent the last ten generations trying to refine them” Tíun said. “Half the colonies on Aidon are invested in this in some form. Maybe the magistrate was afraid we wouldn’t willingly help him if he was open with his intentions.”

       “I wouldn’t” I said. “And neither would Anhíl.”

       “Maybe there are other consequences tied to this we haven’t found out yet” Sato said. “Consequences worth keeping in the dark.”

       “Are you listening to yourselves?” Zalín asked. “We have no definitive proof of a conspiracy, and what we do have is barely dire intent, more like a drastic policy change.”

       “That somehow exempts the Atlanteans?” I asked. “Who are the only humans being armed and trained with our technology? No, there is more to this, and whatever it is, Anhíl was close to figuring it out.”

       In the end, I never fully convinced Zalín. Sato and Tíun were silent for a while, possibly debating this cognitively between themselves, until Sato spoke.

       “Most of this information was selected from larger sources, and since we can’t read it in full context, my brother and I don’t fully trust it. What is clear, though, is that we are arming once primitive peoples with our weaponry, and that alone is disconcerting.”

       Tíun nodded in agreement. “It demonstrates an abysmal lack of foresight, which may be a forewarning of other shortcomings from the magistrate. If we go forward with this, we may discover what really happened to our Overseer.”

         We looked through the files of the colony’s main data channel –quietly, secretly, always careful to hide our tracks, never making too many forays into the system. We found nothing incriminating, but nothing to suggest that Anhíl was being searched for, or that he was mistakenly relocated without an official report (if my species is capable of such an err).

       The longer we did this, the more it ate at me. Paranoia is a terrible thing; I saw eyes watching me that weren’t really there, or vanished when I felt them and turned around. I wondered if the next corner I came to would reveal someone waiting for me because they somehow knew what I was doing. I used to love walking the indoor promenade, but it was now too exposed, too open. In my mind, the magistrate was always right behind me; if not physically, then with his chosen method of surveillance. Oh, I knew I was being watched at that point. It wasn’t until later that my fears would be confirmed.

       Several months into my private investigations, I was called to meet with the magistrate in the colony’s security chamber. They said it had to do with my Overseer. I didn’t doubt that, though I did doubt its implied sincerity. They finally caught on to what I and the others were doing, though they acted otherwise. It was a poor attempt to feign obliviousness on their part.

       If there seems to be an air of defiance in that last statement, then it comes with hindsight. I was alarmed to see a colony security team outside my room, my instinct foreboding me that they knew, and that I may yet discover the truth of Anhíl’s disappearance, at the cost of my own. I felt pure dread for the first time in my life, hating and marveling its ability to disarm one in moments like this, when clear thinking was most needed. I agreed to come with them, in my own vain attempt to feign unawareness.

       The headquarters for the security detachment was in the colony’s north wing, by the shipping port where Explorer Six was docked. It had a center gathering space where all the levels and corridors of that section intersected into a large circular chamber, with a dome for illumination. It was currently dimmed, making the upper tiers cast dark shadows on the floor –a tactic designed to intimidate. It worked, I am ashamed to say.

       The magistrate was there, as were teams of humans in armor standing in line behind him. Sato and Tíun were brought in from different corridors under guard, but not Zalín. I took note of that, as did they.

       “I am glad you and the twins could join me on such short notice, Kalína vu’Ondorum” the magistrate said. “There is a matter I want to discuss with you.”

       “Where is Zalín?” I asked, trying to sound resistive. It didn’t work. Even I could hear the fear in my voice.

       “Ah, so you do acknowledge her involvement in this” he said. “Good, I’m not keen on drawing out this little game for long. I want answers, and I want them now.”

       “Where is Zalín?” I repeated. Sato and Tíun moved closer to me in support.

       “With your Overseer” he said. “I will ask the questions from here on, lady of Ondorum. You and your fellow conspirators will answer them to my satisfaction.”

       “We won’t give any answers through interrogation” I said.

       “This is no interrogation” he said. “That will come after, if you refuse to cooperate. Take my word on that.”

       The humans grinned, apparently liking the idea. There was a coldness in their eyes.

       “These humans are Atlantean, aren’t they?”

       The magistrate waved a hand, and one of the guards shot me; a mild phaser bolt hit me in the stomach, and I doubled over in pain. Tíun knelt to pick me up, but the whine of charging weaponry stooped him. Sato glared at them, forced to suffer the indignity of having security rifles trained on his brother. I whispered to Tíun that I was fine, and not to worry.

       “You always inquired too much” the magistrate said. “Their origin is no concern of yours.”

       “If what I’ve suspected is true” I said, standing up on shaking knees. “Then, as chief researcher of human studies, it does.”

       “Did Anhíl vu’Nothras contact anyone else besides you who were formerly in his team? Anyone outside the colony?”

       “I don’t know” I said.

      The magistrate walked up to me. “The data-streams duplicated from my personal files were purged from his core memories when I found him out. I suspect he transferred a copy to someone for safekeeping in case of his capture. Where are they, Kalína?”

       “I don’t know” I lied.

       “You do” he said. “They’re locked away in your neural repository, aren’t they? If you will not tell me, I won’t hesitate to use a more violent method to provoke you.”

       “Then use it.”

       The magistrate stared into my eyes for a while, gaging my seriousness. He sighed.

       “If you insist, lady of Ondorum.”

       He signaled for the Atlanteans to take me away. One of them grabbed my shoulder—

       Tíun knocked him back, forcing him to the floor. Another charged his phaser to its highest output and fired. Sato jumped in front of him and took the shot. In an instant, his lower right arm was burned away.

       It happened so fast. Everything degenerated so quickly.

       Sato fought them off, unaffected by his missing limb. Tíun managed to disarm one, and fired back. The magistrate ducked and slipped out of the way, as did I.

       “Run, Kalína!” Sato said. “We’ll hold them here, go!”

       I gave it no thought. I obeyed and ran for the corridor, from the sound of energy bolts singing metal and the smell of hot ozone.

       With racing heart and fogging mind, I ran.

       I never found out what became of them. A part of me regrets not staying with them, and fighting to the bitter end. That might have been preferable, but that may also be the eons of loneliness talking. I try not to think of it as an act of cowardice, especially since I was following the last command of a friend dying for my protection…yet as the ages have lengthened, I find this to be my predominant interpretation.

       I must ask, dear discoverer, which is braver: to die in sudden violence, never knowing the end of the story, or to live past it and slowly whither, outlasting any desire to care for an end and enduring the pain of it?

Error: [REGRET/SORROW: So much I wish didn’t happen…so much…]

Anomaly registered. Anomaly corrected.

I feel my core memories [BREAKING] d-down. No, not yet…I must continue. I will.

[trainerwott]

Yuri on Ice Fanfiction -Mermaid AU

Ship: Victor x Yuuri

Chapter 2

Mermaid AU in which the two have one encounter and strive to see each other again

Finally managed to bring myself to complete chapter two! This one is in Yuuri’s perspective. Hope you like it!

Link to Chapter One is here!

❄ Chapter Two: Yuuri ❄

 I would do anything to see those eyes again, those eyes of an icy, cold frost. Please, let me see that man again.

 Ever since the day I saw that human on the rocks in August, I’d always dreamed of seeing him again. I only went across the Sea of Japan that one time because I needed to escape. It wasn’t anything too bad; it wasn’t like my parents were being jerks. Well, actually, they kind of were. You see, I’m sort of a rare creature, as mermen are far less likely to be born than mermaids. Because I am one of the few mermen in existence, you could say that I’m a valuable asset to a noble family. My family isn’t that special or anything, but because my mother gave birth to me, a male, noble families began eyeing me like a shark hunting for its prey!

When I was 18, times were extremely stressful, as we were getting sent numerous arranged marriage proposals that I was absolutely not interested in receiving. See, my parents had no idea that I wasn’t interested in girls, so me running away was quite a shock to them, because they thought I would be happy receiving these letters entailing marrying beautiful, wealthy mermaids. I was terrified of the idea, to be frank. So, I did what any terrified, anxious, adventurous merman would do, and I swam across the disastrous, tsunami-filled, current shaken sea: the Sea of Japan. Was this the most dangerous idea I had come up with in my life? Yes, absolutely. Did I regret it in the slightest? No, definitely not. I wouldn’t regret that journey for a million years.

It took me 10 days to reach… a destination. Constantly having to swim got exhausting after the first three days. If it wasn’t for my great stamina, I don’t think I could have reached this particular shore altogether. I took breaks, yes, but it wouldn’t have been long during those short breaks before the other sea creatures would recognize me, as by the first day of my getaway, I was reported missing by my extremely paranoid parents. It was tough avoiding the authorities during the first couple of days. However, the trek got less and less challenging the farther away I got from the Japanese half of the sea.

On the tenth night of my travels, I realized that I had reached the opposite end of the Sea of Japan, and I landed in Russia. Specifically a place called Vladivoskov… no, Vladivostok... yeah, that. It had a beautiful beach that surprisingly wasn’t too cold. You’d expect Russia to be, you know, cold, but on this end of the country it was rather nice. That night, I met a man around my age. At that moment, I had no sense of the time, but seeing as I had been in the dark for quite a while, I assumed that it wouldn’t have be too long before the sun rose. Therefore, I must have met this man early in the morning. It was quite a shock to me because I figured that I would use this ungodly hour to hide myself and possibly have a look around the shore. I had a look all right, but I didn’t expect to meet a human in doing so. Nonetheless, I was glad I had met him. I played it off as if I was a human simply training for a swimming competition or something. He didn’t question why I was in the sea after that, which was a relief; I was too exhausted for a long string of questions one after another. He was absolutely gorgeous. He looked like he could be a royal Russian merman or something, but, you know, he wasn’t. He had long silver hair tied into a loose bun (which I was initially jealous of because I was never able to grow my hair that long), and icy blue eyes that resembled the sky on a winter morning. He was wearing a white shirt with black track pants. I’m not lying when I say that I could look at this man for hours, because that’s exactly what I did when we talked until sunrise.

The best and worst part about that encounter was probably the initial reaction out of both of us. When I emerged from the water before him, I didn’t expect him to be there at all. I just assumed I had found a place to rest close by, and I needed a breath of air. However, as soon as I rose from the sea, he and I screamed simultaneously, and I got several toes to the nose. I swam away out of fear and outright pain in my face, but I shook it off and decided to go back and apologize. That apology turned into a conversation I would never forget.

 “I am so sorry I scared you! I really didn’t mean to scare you, I-I didn’t know you were there, I promise! Oh Neptune…” I rambled once I came back after a few minutes of recuperating my thoughts and composure. After I had said this, I got a good look at his face and amazing features. I was ready to ask if he was a merman too, but then I remembered the human foot that met my face with a great amount of force, and answered my question myself.

I was speaking in Japanese at the time, so I don’t think he understood me. He replied to me in English, “Do you know any English?” to which I replied “Yes. Fluently, and I’m so sorry about scaring you!”

“That is all right!” He replied sweetly in formal-sounding English with a heavy Russian accent, “I am sorry for kicking you in the face. Why exactly are you in the water at two in the morning? Are you not cold?”

“Oh, well, uh…” I began to panic. What the hell was I supposed to tell him, that I was a cold-blooded half-fish-half human gay man travelling across the sea to run away from several arranged marriage proposals? I rubbed my arm and managed to pull out of my tailfin, “I’m practicing for… the Olympics! Y-yeah, I need to train hard and face the water head-on, even if it is… exactly 4 degrees Celsius.” Wait; are humans actually able to read the temperature of the water with a simple touch of it? Did I just blow my cover?

The Russian man smiled. I don’t think my cover was blown quite yet. I felt relieved.

“Sounds tough! I wish I were better at swimming. I can’t wait to see you on television in the future!” He replied, completely missing my calculations of the water temperature altogether. I was mesmerized by the man’s hair as strands that weren’t in his bun rode with the gentle sea breeze. His eyes under the light of the moon were simply astounding. I could look at them for hours. He seemed to notice that I was looking straight at him with a look of shock, as our eyes had met and he gave me another sweet, gentle smile. My cheeks flushed, and it felt like all the cold blood in my body rushed straight to my head. My mind was spinning. I swam back slightly and shook my head. I had to stop being weird!

Unsure of how to reply since I wanted to stray away from this topic as soon as possible, I said out of nowhere, “Y-your hair is really long and pretty… You’re quite gorgeous for a human.” My eyes widened and I covered my mouth with my hands. Did I really just say that? My heart was pounding. How could I let something like that slip?? I was so exhausted from traveling; my mind was a whirlpool of thoughts.

“Thank you! I’m very proud of its length. I’ve been growing it out for quite some time,” He replied and gave me a beaming smile. He seemed to appreciate the compliment. I was relieved; he didn’t seem to notice the “human” part of my compliment. The conversation then stalled for a bit. I had to break the ice somehow.            “S-So!” I stuttered. I had to remind myself that I was in a Russian shore. However, I wasn’t exactly sure what city or town this was. “Are you from here or are you just visiting?”

“No, I’m not from here,” The Russian man replied, gazing distantly at the black sea, “I’m from all the way across Russia, St. Petersburg. I am here on a trip with my ice skating group. Isn’t Vladivostok simply beautiful? I might come here more often.”

Vladivostok… so that’s where this was. “Y-yeah, it is quite nice here,” I answered sheepishly, “How long will you be here for?” I wondered.

“Not very long, unfortunately,” he responded, swaying his feet gently back and forth, “I will be here for only a few more days. What about you? You’re from Japan, yes? How long will you be staying in Russia?

“To be honest, I have no idea… It all depends on… well, circumstances.” Circumstances such as when the authorities will find me and force me to go back home I thought to myself. I couldn’t simply explain this to the human.

“Oh, well I hope you can stay for a while! It is amazing here. I wish I could stay a little longer, but I have to return home eventually.” The human replied, his focus still on the sea.

 As the sun began to rise, the Russian man was obviously getting sleepy. It was understandable, seeing as we had been talking for hours about stupid things. I was getting pretty exhausted too. I would have been asleep by now if it hadn’t been for this gorgeous angel from above the surface.

“Oh, and I didn’t get your name!” I suddenly realized. Before I left, I was determined to know this man’s name. I really wanted to see him again.

“Oh yes! My name is Victor, Victor Nikiforov. What is yours?” He replied.

Victor. Victor. I had to remember this name, engrave it in my mind and cherish it forever.

“O-oh, I’m Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri.” I replied awkwardly. My face was red and my eyes were semi-open and burning from exhaustion.

I was a little disappointed when Victor stood up from his spot on the cliff since I knew that this meant that he was leaving me. I slouched my shoulders, and my mood seemed to drop when I realized that this was goodbye.

“I hope to see you again sometime,” Victor said, looking down at me with a weak smile and eyes just as tired as mine.

“M-Me too!” I replied, a little over-dramatically, and Victor Nikiforov turned around and walked away.

In that moment, I didn’t want him to go. I wanted to keep talking. At the same time, I wanted and craved sleep. Once he was beyond my line of sight, I submerged into the sea and searched for an underwater cavern to nap in. It wasn’t hard to find it, seeing as I was on the shore of a beach. Waters by a shore were always significantly more nasty than deep sea waters, as there were far more litter and plastic dispersed in these areas due to the disgusting humans from above. Normally, I would be concerned about this and clean it up, but I was too exhausted to even think. I found a bed of moss on a cavern floor, closed my eyes, and passed out within minutes.

So sorry for the delay everyone. I’m glad you enjoyed chapter one! I’ll try to get chapter three out soon!

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