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sunset-peril · 7 months

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Link, Wolfbred King - Chapter Two

“Good morning, Link.”

He awoke to the most wonderful scratching of his ears. “Morning, Zels.”

“Zelda Ivee said you two had a fun night last night.”

“Yeah, well I broke Cece and Reede up again before they started fighting.” He tried to stretch himself out, but his wife held him down.

“Zelda Ivee? Could you get the herb salve for your father?”

“Yes, Momma!” The small child hopped off the foot of her parent’s bed, where she’d been sleeping the night before, and headed down to the kitchenette to retrieve her father’s salve.

“Honestly, Link, you need to stay out of their business. Reede’s lived this Hyrule longer than you have, and he’s a little less… volatile.”

“He’s a pushover, Zelda. He’ll do the show by confronting her, but won’t do the work of restoring peace.”

“Link.” She grasped his face. “You cannot keep acting like the town’s overlord. You are better than this.”

“But she's not.”

“Momma! I brought the salve for Daddy!”

“Thank you, dear.” Zelda took the salve gently from her. “Would you go see if the horses still have water? I can refill the troughs in a moment if they are empty.”

“Yes, Momma!” Once the little girl had gone out the front door, Zelda gripped her husband’s face hard enough that couldn't turn away. “Link.” She stared into his eyes until he began to lean away from her. “I know you’re hurting. But that does not give you permission to act like this. You are very quickly emulating the very behaviors you overthrew a century ago. Do not turn my husband into my father. You are better than this.” She released his face, then opened the salve and began to rub it onto Link’s elbows. “Cece is no Shamia. She has no true influence. You are King, my dear, and I can’t have you destroying yourself before our kingdom is restored. You reunited Hyrule’s tribes in your quest to free the Beasts, and that is inclusive of the Wolfbred.”

“The horsies are good, Momma! Can I help Daddy?”

“Thank you! Of course you may. Bring the mighty thistle milk, will you?”

The toddler quickly grabbed the bottle and ran up the stairs. “Got it, Momma!” She held out the bottle so her mother could de-cork it, then handed it to her father. “Here you go, Daddy!”

“Mmm, thank you, princess.” He tipped it back once, then set the bottle and his head down.

“Feeling better?”

“I’m alright. Your momma’s taking good care of me, and so are you.”

“...You can still see me, right?”

“Of course, I’m looking right at you!” He kissed her tiny forehead.

“Why do you hurt, Daddy? I wanna fix it…”

“You can’t fit it, baby, but I wish you could. Daddy’s just old.”

“But all the other daddies are older than you are…”

Zelda set Link’s arm down for a moment and picked up her daughter. “Daddy’s a pedigreed Wolfbred, which means he doesn’t have any Hylian in him like you, or me. Pedigreed Wolfbred get very old much faster then Hylians do.” She reached over and stroked his forehead, a weary purr came from him.

Thinking about what her ancestors did to his made her sick. The Royals of ancient times took the Wolfbreds’ bodies and changed the very nature of their beings for their benefit alone. They encoded synthetic instincts to keep them subservient, they changed the makeup of their bodies… making them stronger than any natural creature no matter the consequences on their health. Her hand tightened over his forehead and she thought.

They tried to domesticate him! He was no less Hylian than a Sheikah, and her ancestors tried to reduce him to a pet! A working animal! And then they just discarded him for ten thousand years when they were done! Her husband was a Hylian man with agency, who cares if he is descended from some ancient werewolf?!

Her beloved was doomed long before Hylia ever chose him. Wolfbred were known for dying in their thirties. Both Link's parents were in their thirties when they passed away, his mother passed from organ failure and his father died in his sleep about a year after the Calamity. Even if his parents hadn't met such early demises, enough genetic problems existed in Link's family line she'd been warned several times during their courtship that she'd likely outlive him. His body was a mere twenty-three years of age, but his right leg was painful and his left eye had begun to fog over around Zelda Ivee's second birthday. Not to mention that he preferred to walk like a wolf, swearing it eased the pain of his hips.

Link's spirit was mostly undampered, thankfully. He was very argumentative when she retired him from the Guard a year ago due to his blind left eye, and since his retirement he'd been getting himself into trouble either by starting fights of his own or trying to end someone else's… like he was currently doing with Reede and Cece. He also still hunted on a nearly daily basis and was a volunteer guard at various stations around the village. The ancient Royal Family had designed him as a soldier and not a lapdog, so his inability to settle down didn't surprise her. He still had the energy of a twenty-three year old man, just with a bad leg, a poor hip, a blind eye and a mountain of emotional issues from the Calamity itself. And she'd expected the leg to go lame prior to the Calamity; honestly, due to how often he would throw his entire body weight onto an already abnormally small joint. Purah had already confirmed his blindness was cataract-related, but because Link is the stubborn man he is, she's not sure whether he had damaged his eye fighting the Divine Beasts (and simply refused to tell anyone until the eye was bad enough that he couldn't hide it) or whether it was because he was aging. She hoped it was Beast-related. If it was aging related, that meant he'd told her nearly immediately about his eye failing. A lack of stubbornness terrified her.

If they were still living prior to the Calamity, the Sheikah probably could have restored his vision, but alas, much of the quality-of-life technology being developed at the time was lost.

“Me and Daddy are gonna play spies with Narah and Nebb still, right?” Her daughter pawed at her arm and she began to rub the salve into her husband's favored leg.

He jerked away once when she tried to rotate the leg onto a better position, she gently pulled him closer. “Of course. You and me are gonna be the best spies.” A puppy's whine came from his lips. “That hurts.”

“I know it does, Link.” She kissed him as she worked.

Link's love for the other kids in the village made Zelda's heart soar. If he was able to settle into a mentor role for these Wolfbred-Hylian children, maybe it could help him move on from his bloody battle days and the days where he and Hylians were enemies. The children adored him. The four school-aged children were especially fond of her, of course, but even the littlest of the village children worshiped the ground Link walked on. And not even because he was a hero! The kids knew nothing about his heroics, or his royal status, he was simply ‘Grandpa Link’ to them, the old Wolfbred who lived out near the village entrance with Miss Zelda and had great stories and even greater food. He was also known for always being willing to wrestle with the children.

Of course, wrestling with multiple children probably wasn't the best for his arthritis, but it kept him in the village and out of trouble. Both Link and the little boys were significantly better behaved after the fact, reminding her of when Revali was alive and the two would always want to duel (and usually would break some amount of property in the process). Perhaps it was just part of being men from warrior tribes. As long as the children's parents didn't mind Link's rough manner of play (which most of them actually appreciated Link for doing so,) she was perfectly happy to let him indulge. He was definitely happier on all fours with children tugging on him from all sides.

His beloved finished rubbing the last of his joints. “Alright, Link, you can get up.” She offered him a hand in case he needed it.

He shook his head when she offered it. “I'm alright, love.” Once he was upright, he took their daughter down to prepare breakfast.

This world was so good for her. In this world, her little Zelda Ivee was one of many, many Wolfbred-Hylian individuals instead of the first one in ten thousand years. She was normal, not a ‘disgrace to the kingdom.’ Although she was supposed to arrive in the Hyrule of a century ago, Zelda was grateful to the Goddess that her daughter made it to the current age. Being able to welcome their little girl, beloved by all the friends they'd lost, helped her move on.

She knew Link would rather be in that Hyrule, despite his daughter's benefit. He did have friends here, but his best friends were buried a very long time ago. His mentors and family were left behind, his ‘safe and familiar’ lost now that he'd regained most of his memories… He'd rather have his sister again, instead of his sister's great-grandson. Reede tried , but he often just ended up butting heads with his ancestor. Link probably gave him a very stern talking to last night. She knew it didn't help that Link usually ended up alone at night, participating in the activities that he and his loved ones participated in with confusion and frustration that the others weren't interested. His culture often just left him so depressed and defeated… he probably felt that his daughter was his only chance at preserving and passing down the ways of the Wolfbred.

She'd originally wanted to press forward with Zelda Ivee's formal education, but decided not to after getting advice from Clavia that her dad should teach her about being a Wolfbred before her mother taught about being a lady. She hadn't realized the sheer amount of social development that Wolfbred have in their first few years of life.

For her next birthday, Zelda Ivee would accompany her father to a cave somewhere in the area and learn their history and why they have the traditions they do, just like Link did with his own father all those years ago.

Another concern that Zelda had uncovered during her research was that Wolfbred struggled with sudden lifestyle changes. They'd either completely avoid the change and protect their familiar or, if forced to change, would showcase signs of anxiety and hostility.

To say Link had a sudden lifestyle change would probably be the understatement of the century. Link had experienced multiple extreme lifestyle changes in the past few years. If the whole ‘waking up after one hundred years’ thing wasn't extreme enough, their daughter was born about four months after he rescued her, she retired him two years later due to blindness, he started developing joint pain at some point doing all of that and he really hadn't done much since her rescue except sit around at home and take care of their daughter. He'd gone from running lengths and lengths every single day to sitting on the floor with an infant.

Maybe an adventure was what her beloved needed to become himself again. A controlled one of course, he was half blind, but an adventure nonetheless.

“Zelda! Breakfast is ready!” Link called from the first floor, waving up at her as she finished placing everything on the desk.

“Coming, Link.” She quickly made her way down the stairs, and over to him. He kissed her happily before providing her with a warm meal, then served their daughter, then himself, and was seated at the table.

Despite his issues, she'd still have to say that Link was probably healthier than he'd been before the Calamity. He'd put on some weight since retirement, but she'd always believed he was a little too slim prior to the Calamity, and he was finally on a healthy sleep schedule instead of pacing around her for all hours of the day and night. It astounded her how stress, a chronic lack of sleep and a diet tailored for Hylian guards instead of tireless Wolfbred men had a more negative effect on his overall health than arthritis and blindness! In fact, the months just before Zelda Ivee's birth were probably the healthiest she'd ever seen him. His joints and eye were still healthy, as far as she knew, and he'd spent the six months prior to that listening to his body's needs. Of course, she'd also never seen him so stressed, but that was to be expected for such a time.

Their little girl was turning out so much like him. She wanted to be just like her dad, to be a real ‘Woofbred’ like him and make him proud.

She'd worried before the Calamity, that such a proud soldier like Link would struggle with a daughter. Of course she didn't tell him such. She didn't want him feeling pressured to ‘perform’ in his parental duties like her own father had often done to her. She confided in Urbosa, as she could not shake the fear with logic alone, and her dear friend assured her that her fears were unfounded.

And Urbosa was right. Link was a wonderful father to their daughter. In her likely biased opinion, he was the best ‘girl dad’ in the entirety of Hyrule. Of course, Zelda Ivee was born with her father's Wolfbred traits - his dewclaw-like thumbs, facial markings, fur-like hair and temperament - and she longed to be like him. Zelda had a fear that Link would not have been so doting had their little one been born with a more Hylian appearance and personality, or without such a strong desire to imitate Link. But, she tried to remind herself, her daughter was incredibly similar in personality to her husband. Link's female carbon copy, Zelda would jokingly say, even though the child had her green eyes, ear shape and figure. There was proof of this, right across the table from her: Zelda Ivee seated in her dad's lap as they ate, talking to her dad in his native tongue.

Zelda sighed in contentment as she ate the wonderful meal her husband had made. How did she get so lucky?

~~~~

Hyrule's Final Stand Masterlist

#fanfiction #booksivewritten #legend of zelda #hyrule's final stand #zelink #tears of the kingdom #zelda x link #zelda ivee hyrule #link totk #zelda has a bit of a soapbox #hateno village #princess zelda #royal wolfbred family of hyrule #pre totk #wolfbred line #link wolfbred king #urbosa mentioned

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ladycatofwinterfell · 1 year

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fun? That would be devastating

do it

I don't know which one would hurt more if someone else killed one of them or if it's the two of them untill the end maybe one of them would kill themselves to lessen the pain

I couldn’t help myself, I simply had to write a little one-shot :) is this part of the main au? is this an alternative version? I can’t say, but it’s not happy

It must have been a few hours since the canon. They had neither heard nor seen what happened to Cersei Lannister, what mattered was that she was dead. The three of them had been the only ones left and something in the jungle had killed her. Catelyn had wanted to be the one to do it. She would have liked to go out that way, entangled in a fight with Cersei. In an ideal world they would have killed each other and Ned would have been the last one alive, the sole survivor. Instead she was still alive.

They had got out of the initial fighting alive, together with her uncle, Donella and Howland Reed from 3, Ned’s close friend. The bloodbath had been terrible, though they hadn’t seen most of it. They had fled into the jungle and stayed there until everyone else seemed to have left the cornucopia. She had believed it best to avoid fighting. As she had told Robb, every person in that arena was alive because they had killed. It was better to stay out of it.

Then they had survived, kept themselves away from others instead of hunting them down. Traps and other tributes slowly took out their opponents. They were ambushed by the pair from 11 one night, Catelyn had managed to kill the man with Ned’s help and her uncle did the same with the woman. Though not before she had already put her knife in Donella’s chest. Ned held his fellow mentor of so many years as she passed, and Catelyn felt his pain.

Not long after that they dared make their way towards the beach. They hadn’t walked straight to it, had walked along the circle to see if anyone was hiding just by the tree line. Howland had led them, he was most sure on his feet in the hard terrain. Then the monkeys had come. Howland’s screams as he was ripped apart had kept Catelyn from sleeping, that was two days earlier. It was worse for Ned, there was nothing behind his eyes anymore. He seemed empty.

When the Lannister twins attacked them they were taken by surprise. Howland’s death and the grief over it had left them unfocused. Her uncle had died, as had Jaime. Cersei had fled back into the jungle. Then she had died, somehow. Brynden had gone out the way he wanted to, protecting her, and he had seemed strong until the very end. Even in death it seemed that way, his weathered face speckled with blood and his hand clenched around a knife.

The sunset was beautiful, even as she knew that it signalled the end of her life. When darkness came she would end it, and so Ned would come out of there. They had sat there in silence ever since Cersei’s canon echoed through the arena, she was surprised the game makers hadn’t done anything about it. Sent something that would kill one of them, or declared they had a certain amount of time to kill the other before something would happen. But no, they let them sit in silence on the beach, hand in hand. Grieving those they had lost and their life with each other.

Maybe that was their prize for having played the role as the Capitol’s favourite victor couple. Maybe they were allowed that last time because people truly wanted them to have it. Though the Capitol’s patience wasn’t infinite, they would have to put an end to it soon.

“I didn’t think it would end this way” she said.

For some reason she had truly believed that after having won they would be left alone as long as they did what they were supposed to do. That they would grow old together, defying that victors often died quite young.

“It could have been worse” Ned said.

She looked at him, not understanding in the least. How could it possible have been worse? For days they had partaken in slaughter, they had watched people they loved be killed. They had heard canons, seen portraits in the sky. After 24 years of being husband and wife it would end because they were both forced into a death game with only one winner. She would die, her children would be without a mother. There was no worse fate than that.

“How?” she questioned. “How could it possibly have been worse?”

“At least I get to be with you before I die.”

The fiery sky was reflected in his eyes. There was acceptance there. Acceptance and determination. It seemed he hadn’t understood when she told him that if one of them lived it wouldn’t be her. That she had decided the moment the theme for the quarter quell was announced. If both of them were reaped and they ended up as the last two alive, he would be the survivor.

“You’re not going to die.”

Ned raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Didn’t seem to mind that she was covered in blood and sand that she hadn’t bothered with washing off. Even after all the death there was softness, she admired him for it.

“You can’t deny it, Cat. I have to.”

“No, Ned. I told you before we even entered this arena that if it came down to it you’d live.”

“We’ve been together long enough for you to know that I’d never accept that.”

“Neither will I.”

If he died she wasn’t sure she would be to go on. How was she to return to a district that wasn’t hers from the beginning, a place she called her home because of him, and know that he had died for her? Love with the children he had given her, his aging mother and his two brothers. No, it was better if he was the one to go back.

“Brynden died for you” Ned said and his tone wasn’t very soft anymore. “Are you going to lay down your life so easily after that?”

His eyes weren’t particularly soft either. Obviously he had made peace with his own death so much that he didn’t want her to challenge it.

“He would have died–“

“No, Catelyn. His name wasn’t on that piece of paper, he volunteered to protect you in here. Don’t treat his sacrifice like it’s nothing, he was a better man than so.”

Was he going to tell her what to do with her life after her uncle was dead?

“You don’t have a say in what I do with that sacrifice!”

She pulled her hand away from his, turned her face to the side. Tears were rising in her eyes, she tried to blink them away. Somehow she had managed to keep herself from crying all the way up until that point. It just hadn’t seemed possible, all emotions had been stuck inside her. But then she couldn’t help herself.

Uncle Brynden was dead and it was due to her. She had stood silent and watched as his body was carried into the sky, the knife that had killed him still in his neck. Had she not been reaped he would have been alive. How she loved him and he was dead.

Ned laid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her two him. She rested her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes. The beauty of the sight was nothing, she didn’t want to see it anymore. There was nothing beautiful anymore. It hurt. She could feel the pain deep in her chest, she could barely breathe.

“Go back to the children” Ned whispered against her hair.

He didn’t seem to mind that she was dirty and sweaty.

“Not without you.”

It wouldn’t be a very bright life. It wouldn’t be a life at all. He had been by her side for more than half of her life, she couldn’t do it without him. She really couldn’t. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind about that. Her darling husband, her Ned.

“I can’t come with you, but you’ll be fine anyway. You’re strong. The strongest person in the world.”

“Not without you” she said again.

He was half of her, he carried her. She was nothing without him.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“9 is your district, your family is there. The children need you, you should be there for them.”

If there was something they needed it was their father’s guidance. In a world where everything was uncertain and all eyes were on them it was important to have something that could help them and protect them. He could do that better than she could.

“They don’t need me more than they need you” Ned told her. “What matters is that they’re alive. Robb didn’t have to do this, that’s what’s important now.”

She looked at him. Her husband of so many years. How had it come to that only one of them could come out if it alive? That they sat together on a beach in an arena and had to choose which one of them that would die.

Not that they would ever come to an agreement. She knew him, knew that he was stubborn to a fault. He wouldn’t bulge, but then neither would she. She had known it the moment she got to know that both of them would be in the games. She had long since made peace with what had to happen.

“I’m not afraid” he continued. “You don’t need to worry for me and you don’t need to feel guilt afterwards. I don’t blame you for this.”

As if that would not be the only thing she felt. As if they would not have to sedate her every night if she was to get any sleep at all. She didn’t want that. She wanted Ned and their children to live on.

She knew what had to be done. It was better to do it before she got afraid. Quick and clean, as little pain as possible. Even as she felt the weight on her chest, even as she couldn’t keep the tears from increasing, there was relief. She hadn’t truly made the decision until then.

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

Ned smiled. It was brief, barely there at all. His eyes were so kind, she loved his eyes. A shame she would never see them again. That the soft fog was the last thing she got to see wasn’t so bad. Maybe he was right, maybe it could have been worse.

When he cupped her face with his free hand she leaned into his touch.

“How?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t have to know that. I’ll go back into the jungle.”

“You don’t need to shield me, I’ve seen so much death already.”

She had watched the games as a child, seen the death. She had cheered for her favourites from her own district, hadn’t been very faced by the deaths of others. Then she had volunteered and for the first time met death directly. With her own hands she had killed. Now she had witnessed the death of her uncle, the very reason for why she entered the games in the first place. She had seen Donella and Howland and Jaime Lannister and the tributes from 11 and those that died in the bloodbath. But she would not let Ned die. He wouldn’t be one of those people, his death was far in the future. Instead she would be the one to join her uncle in death.

“I don’t want you to see me die.”

“I’m sorry for this, I really am” she said.

She had to say it, had to apologise.

“You don’t need–“

She reached up to kiss him. She tasted blood on his dry lips, how long had it been there for? She didn’t know. But she felt the softness of his kiss, the warmth from his body close to hers. Had it not been for that lingering taste of iron and the sand on their hands she almost would have believed they were home. Sitting on the stairs to their house, Ned’s victory house.

Her hand finds the knife at her hip easily, it’s like a reflex to wrap her fingers around the hilt. The training from her youth is still at the back of her mind, her muscles remember. With ease she unsheathed it, a movement so smooth her husband doesn’t notice.

Without breaking the kiss she raised the knife, hoping he would find it in himself to forgive her.

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x cat #my drabble #nedcat hunger games au

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percontaion-points · 3 months

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Fearless (HMA 4) chapters 15 & 16

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Chapter 15

I wasn’t about to tell him that my mom’s dream for me had included a panther mate…

I’m pretty sure Alana wouldn’t want for her child to be with a narcissistic manipulator.

Although part of me understands that Alana wanted for Vail to be with a panther because the panthers don’t have the political system the wolves do.

“I spoke to my mom right after Reed was detained.” He glanced at Marnie, who was watching him with her heart in her eyes. “She said he was fine, but it was clear that was subject to our attendance at the party.”

I say let the bitch rot. She intentionally went in there WITH HER INFANT CHILDREN. She deserves to be tortured a little bit.

“My mom was a hybrid, too. She ran away after being caught up in a bane raid. It means my grandfather’s been doing this a long time, and if he was willing to hurt his own daughter…”

The narration never said that Iris was a wolf NOR a cat either way… But seeing as how batty Johnathn is acting over this entire thing, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that she’s probably a full wolf.

And Johnathan is a full wolf as well. Again, 100% considering how obsessed he is with “voids” and “banes”, this is only an estimated guess.

So where the fuck did Alana’s cat come from? Because the last time I checked, wolf + wolf ≠ cat.

“Oh, no. The kin bond,” I whispered. “Jasper, we don’t have any choice. I have to go to that party.”

Chapter 15 summary: After hanging up and going back to the caves, Vail gets into an argument over where she went for two hours. She insists that his brothers only wanted to run and chase voles, but he’s angry about Trey. Even despite Vail’s continued insistence that she ONLY wants Jasper.

This is kind of interrupted when the brothers show both of them visions of the Marrow compound’s basement. They’d seen that there was a basement on the blueprints, but figured that it was a wine cellar. Now they realise that they shouldn’t have presumed anything, since it seems as though it’s either a lab or a straight up prison dungeon. They think that Cal and Reed are being held down there either way.

They then start to plan a sneak attack to the compound, since it’s the day before the party. (The last I checked, it was still a week away, but whatever. You do you.) Marnie is upset that she’s being benched, but the others point out that she’s still too new at being a wolf, let alone an alpha. She could get hurt.

Then Vail has the most excruciating pain imaginable. The others say that it’s Johnathan using his pack leader power to summon everybody that he’s related to or has a bond with. And that the pain won’t go away until the person shows up. Jasper says that people have died from denying the call of their leader, so it looks like they’re going.

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen – Reed

So rather than to actually see what Jasper does in order to rescue Reed and Cal, we’re going to be subjected to…? Pages of Reed sitting in his cell, and only when the others show up will we have actual plot movement, if I had to guess.

Possibly torture.

“I didn’t want to believe it. But then I got pissed at my mom on New Year’s and shifted [into a cat] again. She told me then what really happened to my dad.” He pushed himself up onto an elbow, his eyes like black slits in the dim lighting. “He was part of some underground resistance, fighting for bane rights. Until he got picked up by some void hunters, who took him to a lab and tortured the fuck out of him. My uncle tracked him down, tried to ransom him back, but by then he was too far gone. They gave us back his body to bury, and I thought my uncle was going to burn their place to the ground. But he just… bowed out of everything. Did shit all for the pack and drank himself into a coma. But not before he told everyone my dad died of some bullshit blood disease and my mom backed him up.”

Fuck. No wonder Cal was so screwed up. He’d been carrying around a huge secret, while living a lie that was eating him up inside.

I’m sorry that all of that happened to Cal. But that’s no excuse for him sexually assaulting girls. (You know Vail wasn’t the first he’d done that to.)

“Like I said, my angel doesn’t leave anything to chance.”

Chapter 16 summary: It was worse than I had predicted: Reed was thrown into a cell with Callum, so the two of them immediately start to bicker about their relationship with Vail. Because everything always comes back to her.

However, as soon as this dries up, Cal takes Reed on a trip down memory lane, when things were a little bit happier. Well, relatively speaking, considering how abusive Jasper’s father was. Cal says that the first time he shifted into a cat was one Christmas, when Jasper’s dad was being especially abusive towards him. His mum later told him that his father had been picked up and killed in a bane raid, but that his uncle started the rumour that the dad had died because of a genetic disease in order to try and shield the family. Reed is horrified to hear about this, and thinks that it’s no wonder Cal is so messed up. Not with having held onto these secrets for so long.

They then start to feel the pull of Johnathan Marrow’s summons, despite the fact that… They ain’t fucking related or bonded to him in any way. It doesn’t make any fucking sense, but whatever. Anyway, it turns out that the two of them weren’t alone in the prison cell, and the summons awakens some skinny punk. He says some stuff about “my angel is coming to rescue me!” And he has a fucking tracker in the tongue ring he’s wearing.

#Fearless (HMA 4)#hunter moon academy

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wmproprt · 8 months

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“Oh What a Tangled Web Biden Weaves, When He First Practices to Deceive”

Joe Biden and his White House handlers continue to peddle misinformation if not lies about his removal of classified files.

The worst is that Biden—supposedly so unlike Trump—came forward willingly as soon as he realized that he had unlawfully, but inadvertently, removed and possessed classified files. And thus he cooperated fully and promptly with federal authorities.

The truth is far, far different.

Biden removed files improperly both as a Senator and Vice President.

He held some of them in his unlawful possession for perhaps at least 14 years without a word to authorities, dating back at least to his departure from the Senate on January 15, 2009 when he resigned to become Vice President—or if not longer over his some 36-year Senate career.

In fact, in 2017 Biden was fully aware that he had wrongly removed these classified files. As Hur noted, there is a taped conversation on record between Biden and his ghostwriter to just that effect. Biden, at home in Virginia, was recorded as remarking, “I just found all the classified stuff downstairs”.

And yet Biden apparently did nothing. He never came forward to any federal authorities for nearly the next five years.

So given that knowledge, why did the attorneys belatedly disclose Biden’s possession of the files on November 2, 2022? Civic virtue? Altruism? Respect for the law?

Hardly.

Otherwise, Biden would have disclosed his unlawful possession at any time during either the intervening prior years when he was a private citizen or during the first 18 months of his presidency, when he knowingly still possessed classified files and still did nothing about it.

In truth, Biden would likely never have come forward, save for one insurmountable problem: Merrick Garland had likely decided to appoint Jack Smith as a special prosecutor to investigate the Trump files that the FBI had swooped into Mar-a-Lago looking for 3 months earlier on August 8, 2022.

In other words, knowing that Smith or a generic special counsel would very quickly be appointed (Smith was sworn in a little over two weeks later, on November 18, 2022), suddenly Biden and Co. preempted that announcement, in fear that Biden had done virtually the same thing as Trump—albeit without presidential declassification power and for at least 14 years in possession of classified files.

Had the attorneys and Biden not come forward, Trump and others would have asked whether Biden had not also removed files. So to get out in front of the formal announcement of the Smith appointment, they preempted, misleadingly and disingenuously, preening that civic virtue had prompted Biden’s “voluntary” disclosures and “cooperation”.

A final note: one of the more disturbing moments in Biden’s catastrophic press conference was his flare up at Hur’s revelation (“How dare he bring up that!”) that in formal interviews an enfeebled Biden had not remembered the general date of his son’s tragic death from a glioblastoma brain tumor on May 30th, 2015 at Walter Reed Hospital in Washington DC.

Biden went on to vent at Hur.

But Hur was simply documenting his analysis that Biden was severely cognitively impaired, and not as VP Kamala Harris claimed, gratuitously smearing Biden.

But who exactly had serially lied about Beau Biden’s demise, by claiming that he had died while on duty in Iraq, serving in the Delaware National Guard as a Judge Advocate?

Joe Biden.

He has still a bad habit of directing attention away from grieving families of fallen soldiers, by claiming that he too experienced the same nightmare.

Biden had been pilloried in the media to cease such false narratives about his son’s tragic premature death due to natural causes back in the United States, years after his deployment in Iraq.

But to no avail, he continues spinning such myths as he did repeatedly as late as last year.

Sadly, doctoring family tragedies for his own purposes is not new to Biden, as Jack Fowler noted in 2019.

The tragic death in a December 1972 traffic accident of his first wife and daughter, and the injuries of his two sons, was raised for decades by Biden—but in a completely false context of blaming an innocent truck driver, Curtis Dunn for the death.

Dunn was innocent of any culpability. No matter, Biden in his serial retelling for years repeatedly smeared Dunn as drunk driver (“an errant driver who stopped to drink”) who had killed his wife and daughter.

Biden finally gave in to the repeated pleas for decades from the truck driver and after his death, his family.

Or as a 2010 Mark Bowden Atlantic essay on Biden noted:

“For many years, he described the driver of the truck that struck and killed his first wife and their daughter in December 1972 as drunk, which he apparently was not. The tale could hardly be more tragic; why add in a baseless charge? The family of the truck driver has labored to correct the record, but Biden made the reference to drunkenness as recently as 2007, needlessly resurrecting a false and painful accusation.”

@VDHanson

https://x.com/VDHanson/status/1756355165635088525?s=20

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kurt-wagner-official · 2 years

Text

Post #30: UXM issues 165-167

Now we're back to Uncanny X-Men for the second half of the Brood Saga and the first Paul Smith issue. We pick up from the last cliffhanger as the X-Men are being pulled into space. Scott and Logan rip off a piece of floor to patch the hole, and the heroes are left alive and wondering what their lives are worth now that they know they're doomed. We then cut back to Earth for a scene that actually takes place before the New Mutants' first appearance. Moira gets a letter from Reed Richards about the existence of Xi'an, asking Xavier to take her in. He at first refuses, but when Moira tells him that the alternative is she takes the girl to Magneto or Emma Frost, who would at least give her training in her powers, he decides not to let his dream die just yet. In space, Ororo drifts alone in her small craft. She's torn between her will to live and her oath never to kill, even an evil being like the Brood within her. In the end, she gives up both, summoning the power of a star nebula to destroy both herself and the embryo. Back on their yacht, the X-Men come to terms with their death sentence. Lilandra wants to go down fighting, and agrees with Logan that they should make their last stand on Sleazeworld trying to kill the queen. Scott agrees, which Logan thinks means he's finally broken from the pacifist ideals he's held all his life. Logan wanders off and finds Kurt praying. This is my favorite moment of their friendship, and a perfect showcase of their characters. Kurt says he finds connection and comfort in his belief, even though he can't go into churches often. Logan is an atheist, which Kurt says sounds very lonely. Logan replies that he can't be alone, because he has Kurt and the X-Men. Meanwhile, Kitty has a nightmare about attending her own funeral, and wakes up to find Peter there to comfort her. She's more terrified than any of them of the horrible fate that awaits them all, but Peter is at peace. He's lived a life he loves and knew it had to end sometime. Kitty says that if they're going to die, she wants to sleep with Peter before they do, but he refuses, saying she's too young. This doesn't really make their relationship any less creepy, but for what it is it's a good moment. It's interrupted by visions of Ororo, who has merged with an Acanti and returned to her team.

Issue 166 opens with Carol on the warpath. The Brood are hunting a young Acanti, and infect it with a slave virus that destroys it's consciousness to make it a vessel for them. Carol obliterates the Brood and mercy kills the Acanti before being confronted by Ororo. She guided Carol back to the Acanti she has merged with, and offers her and the X-Men and alternative to their murder-suicide mission- a chance to save the Acanti race. The reason the Brood have been able to enslave them is because their collective species soul is entrusted to their leader, the Prophetsinger. He was the first one the Brood enslaved, and when he eventually died, they kept the soul hostage, forcing the Acanti to stay and be enslaved. But the next Prophetsinger was recently born- the Acanti Ororo is merged with. If the X-Men can liberate the soul, Ororo's Acanti can use it to free the rest of them. The X-Men quickly agree- they know they'll die, but now they have a chance to fight for something instead of against something. Logan fears they could turn at any moment, and is prepared to kill his friends to save them from that fate, but Kitty convinces him to believe in their family and give them a chance to fight to the end. They beam down to the surface while Carol and Ororo distract the fleet. As powerful as they are, the two women are overwhelmed, and the baby Prophetsinger is almost killed when the Starjammers arrive just in time. On the surface, we learn the reason for Scott's weird recent behavior- he's already turned, and has been leading the team into a trap. Only Kitty escapes, saved by a little purple alien dragon. The X-Men manage to escape, and take the queen and Scott hostage as they make their way to the soul. The evil of the embryos threatens to corrupt it and merge the souls with the Brood queen, but Carol arrives just in time to energize it with the power of a star. The soul purges the embryos from the X-Men and turns the queen into a crystal statue before flying up into the Prophetsinger. The X-Men beam up to the Starjammer, where Ororo greets them, having had her body restored by the soul. The celebration is short lived when Logan points out that the queen said there was one more royal egg on Earth, which they all realize must be in Xavier.

Issue 167 starts where New Mutants 3 left off, with the young team watching TV in the living room. They're interrupted by the X-Men, who crash through the walls to get to Xavier, not expecting company. The team start fighting while Kitty sneaks upstairs. She's too late to stop Xavier's transformation into a Brood queen though, and he attempts to flee before the combined efforts of the two teams bring him down. Logan plans to kill him, but Scott says that as the first X-Man it's his responsibility. But when Xavier begs him to end it, Scott is reminded of Jean making the same request, and he decides to try to save Xavier. They take him aboard the Starjammer, where Sikorsky says he can try to clone Xavier's body and transfer his mind. As the procedure begins, Scott turns to his other father for comfort. Christopher says he can't stay on Earth, and plans to head back out. Scott asks if he can join him, a huge step forward from years ago when he was the only X-Man who didn't leave the nest. Christopher says he can, but offers to first introduce him to his grandparents, which shocks Scott and leaves him overjoyed. Meanwhile, Ororo is feeling alone once again when Kitty spends time with Illyana and Peter rather than her. She finds Kurt also feeling alone; the new young students are as wary of him as Kitty once was, and though he knows they'll get used to him, going through this sequence every time he meets someone is taking its toll on him. Gladiator arrives on the ship and tells Lilandra that Deathbird has taken the throne with the help of the Brood. He also tells her that Reed Richards saved the life of Galactus recently, which she responds to by holographically beaming into the Baxter Building to tell Reed he'll be held accountable for Galactus's future meals. I think that thread will get picked up in the FF book, but I haven't read it. It's a little weird that they put it in this issue, but maybe it's a sign that Byrne and Claremont are now friendly enough to set up plots for each other. Finally, Xavier emerges from the medical chamber, now I'm a fresh body with functional legs. He has one final bombshell to drop- he's demoting Kitty to the New Mutants.

I don't even know where to start. This is one of my favorite stories of all time, and it's only gotten better on reread. Watching the X-Men accept their imminent death and choose to spend their final breaths fighting to free the Acanti is one of the most powerful and heartbreaking things I've read in the franchise. As I said, my favorite part was the Kurt and Logan moment. Even faced with certain death, Kurt doesn't waver in his faith, and more importantly, he still feels empathy for his friends above any concern for himself. And Claremont has written a lot of internal Logan monologues about the journey he's gone through to accept and reciprocate the love and support of his family, but none of those will ever be as powerful as "I ain't alone, bub- I got you." I still hate Peter and Kitty's relationship, but since I can't just wish it out of existence, their moment was definitely the best written part of it. I also just loved Peter's whole reaction in this story. Everyone else freaked out, even Kurt a little, but Peter was more calm than ever. He faced everything with quiet dignity and humor. Peter has a tendency to sabotage his own life and then hate himself for it, but when he knows it's going to end, he sees the beauty of it, and rather than wallow in mourning, he just feels grateful for the time he had. Kitty is almost the opposite, panicking and breaking down at the thought. She's been influenced a lot by Ororo and increasingly Logan as well, so she wasn't really scared of death so much as the loss of agency that comes with death by Brood. I would have liked to see how Scott dealt with the situation, but I understand why they made him the mole, since we've seen him accept death more than any of the others. The resolution of their situation with the soul power saving the X-Men is technically a Deus ex machina, but honestly i think it's earned. The X-Men accept their deaths and still choose selflessness, and they're rewarded by a being of pure good. When the entire world hates them, it's cathartic to see an act of god in their favor every once in a while. Plus, they'll all be dealing with the trauma from this incident for a while, especially Ororo. She broke her no killing rule, and while it's clearly affecting her, it's not until upcoming issues that we see how much. That being said, I'm not a huge fan of how they saved Xavier at the end, because I felt like it kinda cheapened the danger that the rest of the team was in. It does open up some new doors for Xavier's development, which he definitely needed, namely his physical therapy to regain the ability to walk. In addition to the amazing character study, this story is proof that even without the mutant metaphor, X-Men stories can still be political and societal allegories. The Brood are every colonizer in human history. They strip away racial and individual identities, and either kill, enslave, or convert anyone other than them. Because these are still corporate owned books, they can't outright condemn imperial governments, so evil humans are always part of some shadow faction of the more benign main American government. But here, with aliens, we can see colonizers for the monsters they are. They also work on the literal level as the most terrifying villains the X-Men have faced yet. While I don't think they should be retired as villains, because just on principle I'm against the idea of locking away characters and concepts in a shared universe, I do think the Brood are more impactful when they're used sparingly, and they've been overused in recent years (except for Broo, who I wish was used much more). They'll probably never be as scary as they are in this story, which I still see as the gold standard for X-Men space stories.

#wes reads xmen

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poptod · 3 years

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Would u be up to writing a crack fic where Ahk eats some dodgy food and gets violently ill from it and in his food poisoning induced delirium starts to like hallucinate and think that gods are against him and hanging out with him and stuff. so yeah. (also omfg never noticed the ostrich part in NATM!!!)

notes: YEA that fucking ostrich is hilarious and YES this sounds fun. u didn’t say if this was xreader or if this was in egypt or in the museum so i took some liberties, hope that’s alright! i also really ran with this so apologies for the length WC: 2,222

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Now, now, that’s no way to refer to your husband,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You are not - we’re not married,” you hissed.

“Not yet,” he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. Ahkmen wasn’t King yet, but you still held the position as his advisor, placed there by both Ahkmen’s choice and his father’s insistence.

Now, however, you were focused on a different, more pertinent issue. An entire bag of almond date rolls had been thrown away for Ahk to find, opening the sack to find them untouched. Since he had little to no self control—which was why you were there to begin with—he immediately began eating them.

“There isn’t anything wrong with them,” he said through a mouthful.

“You don’t know that,” you said, still glaring up at him.

He swallowed before promptly stuffing another whole roll in his mouth.

“Stop that!” You said, and batted the sack out of his hand.

The cinch released and the rolls went flying down a sandy hill, reaching the river outcrop at the bottom. Ahk watched, miserably, as they disappeared.

“You have access to date rolls anytime you like in the palace,” you reminded him.

“But it’s such a long walk back, and I like it here,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the forested hill overlooking the Nile. Shade stretched over your bodies and the reed blanket beneath you, allowing the wind to cool your sun-beaten skin.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you said, leaning back to lie down.

“How funny, then, that you are my life,” he said with a grin, following you till he propped himself up on his elbow, his free hand resting on your chest.

He stared at you, scanning you as you half-glared at him.

“What do you want?” You asked, looking up unimpressed.

“A kiss,” he said, puckering his lips.

“Shut up!”

You shoved him onto his back, laughter wracking his body.

A little while later you found yourself once more obeying Ahk’s whim, though his father had warned against that, and followed him in short steps down the tall dune. Solidified, plant-filled earth gave way for free falling sand that drifted off the slope and towards the riverbank.

The water during this time of year was at a steady but slow pace, flowing from south to north as the sun’s rising and setting indicated. Wind that once cooled you now brought hot air, exacerbated by the overzealous sun, who you imagined could burn even your ink-black skin. Sand avalanched around your still feet, landing you at Ahk’s side.

“Luncheon will be soon,” you reminded.

“I’m aware,” he said flatly. “Can’t I simply enjoy myself for once?”

“No.”

He waded out into the water, his shoulders tensing at the chill and only releasing as he went deeper. Once the red water reached his knees, just barely soaking the edge of his skirt, he called to you.

“Come join me,” he said, offering you his hand.

“We should go back to the palace,” you said.

“Come now, it’ll be hours before lunch,” he whined.

“It’s one hour. And you can’t be wearing that,” you said, gesturing to his outfit that consisted of no more than a skirt, partially torn and covered in dirt.

“Then take it off me,” he said with a sly grin.

You scowled at him, going over your options for a moment before you acted.

Once you decided, you waltzed into the river, soaking your sandals as you approached him. Satisfaction filled his gaze as you came closer, his hand still outstretched to you.

At last you took his hand, tugging him forcefully towards you. He let out a grunt, but before he could say anything, you reached forward and released the clasp keeping his skirt on him, allowing it to fall in the running water and drift away.

“Hey!” He cried, attempting to go after it, but stopped by your hand still in his. He turned back to you, a shocked look on his face as he said, “what was that for?!”

“Dawdling. Let’s go back to the palace.”

“Like this?!” He yelled, gesturing to his naked body. You snorted.

“You don’t mind. I know you don’t. You just want to be mad at me,” you said in a definitive voice.

“I don’t-“

“Come on, Prince,” you said, tugging him past you so he stumbled towards the shoreline. As he just barely got his standing you slapped his butt, pushing him forward further.

Ahkmen fell silent—as he rarely did—after he’d been dressed and was on the way to the garden, where the Pharaoh had arranged a feast he made and placed for himself, his family, and the ambassadors visiting from Punt. You were not invited, but you watched from above alongside the youngest Prince’s manservant. Ahk’s room was placed right above the western gardens, large arches within allowing a plenty good sight out, which you and Naguib took advantage of.

“He’s squirming an awful lot,” Naguib noted after several minutes of silence.

Naguib laid on his stomach, his chin propped up on his palms, in turn resting on his elbows on the stone floor. You sat nearby, leant against one of the arch pillars with a tablet of baked limestone on your lap.

At his comment you looked over the ledge, easily finding the trademark golden crown Ahk bore.

“How so?” You asked.

“Look at his legs,” Naguib said, and your eyes turned to his fidgeting crossed legs, “and his hands.”

His fists were clenching and unclenching.

“Should we check in on him?” He asked gingerly.

“.... nah,” you said after a moment. “I’m sure it’s fine. He’s probably just upset I slapped him on the arse.”

Naguib choked on his own spit, bursting into manic laughter.

“You slapped the prince’s ass??” He asked incredulously through gasps of laughter. “How’d he react to that?”

“He stripped me,” you answered, returning to your tablet with little waver in your voice.

“What -“

“That might’ve been because I took away his skirt, though. In that case, he just looked at me really strangely,” you said.

“How so?”

You twisted your expression to reflect what you remembered, a strange mix of confused, angered, and one feeling that was almost always at the forefront of Ahk’s mind—horny. Naguib burst into another round of laughter.

Several minutes later, after your conversation died down, Naguib looked back over the ledge and frowned.

“He’s gone,” he said.

“Who what?”

“Ahk, he isn’t there anymore,” he said, pointing to the empty cushion where Ahk had been sitting. You shifted to see.

“Huh. What do you think happened?”

Bursts of metal latches and swinging hinges interrupted you before either of you could think of an answer, followed by the wooden frame of the door slamming against the other wall. Both of you darted to look behind you, finding several different servants entering, a limp Prince in their arms.

Instantly you jumped to your feet. Naguib joined you, though much slower, and you both made your way to his bedside once the servants set him down.

“What happened?” Naguib asked, a hand on the bed as he looked up to one of the servants.

You set your hand over his forehead, testing his temperature, and using your sense of magic to reach into his veins, searching for a perpetrator.

“He hasn’t got a fever,” you noted, earning a nod from the servant tending him.

You made to search again before Ahk moved, groaning softly as he curled into himself, clutching his stomach.

“Ahk? Are you alright?” You asked—probably too quickly—as you knelt at his side, panic pounding its way into your heart.

“Ugh,” he grumbled, just barely wheezing out his breaths. “Alive. Right now.”

“What are your symptoms?”

“Stomach,” he breathed, halting as he flinched, his hands moving to slap over his mouth.

“Bucket!” You said to the servant, who nodded and rushed for one of the buckets in the nearest closet. “You’re going to throw up, its alright. Get it out.”

“Ughhh...” he mumbled, convulsing forward again as he attempted to hold it in.

In a flash the servant returned, rushing to set the bucket down beside the bed. You held it up, helping him scoot dizzily forward before he hurled.

Things continued in a similar fashion until the setting of the sun, the western rays finally sinking beneath the distant mountain horizon. Crickets and firebugs chirped, bringing in the cool breeze of evening, sending shivers down Ahk’s sweat-sheeted shoulders and back.

You ran your fingers through his hair, hoping to raise the curls off his heated forehead, but he raised his hand to stop you.

“No,” he slurred, “too sick... repetitive.”

“Alright,” you said softly.

His dizziness persevered from the evening into the night, but his vomitting had luckily stopped, though he did try to retch on an empty stomach twice. By then he was passed out from exhaustion, still shivering in his sleep. You stayed at his side without fail, raising his sheets up to cover him, and removing them when he broke out into another sweat.

At midnight, his eyes fluttered open.

The first thing he saw was you—surrounded by a halo of brightly glowing stars, colored in red, yellow, and purple. His sickness had faded but the delirium remained, and he reached out blindly for your face.

His fingers dragging across your eyes and cheeks brought you back from your meditation, shocked at his consciousness.

“You’re awake,” you said with a relieved sigh, your knees digging into the cold stone beneath you.

“Hathor?” He mumbled weakly, his eyes still half-closed.

“No, no,” you said, taking his hand down from your face and clasping it in your own hold. “Piye. Remember? How do you feel?”

“Am I dead?”

“Not as far as I know. You exhibit all the tell-tale signs of being alive,” you said, chuckling.

“... Bastet?”

“Also no. Piye.”

“Peets....” he mumbled before promptly falling back asleep.

The next time he awoke was a little later on, towards the very, very early morning. He once again broke you out of your meditation, this time with words rather than smothering your face. His state of aberration had yet to improve.

“Piye?” He asked softly, a husk of a voice.

“Yes,” you said, smiling. He remembered your name. “How do you feel?”

“When d.. you’re... you’re glowing,” he murmured.

“I what?”

He reached forward, and you flinched away, stiffened by a soft touch that traced down your jawline.

“You’re... glowing,” he said, louder, drawing in a deep breath as sweat began to bead on his forehead.

“Calm down, Ahk,” you warned him, pushing the hair off his forehead. “You’re going to work yourself up.”

“No,” he said with a strange sense of urgency, holding your face in the palm of his hand. You subconsciously leaned your cheek into his touch. “No, I need to see you.”

“I’m right here, with you.”

“Not in my dreams,” he breathed out, the words brushing his parted lips, now paler than ever.

Fever.

Vomitting.

Fatigue.

Gagging. Weakness. Dizziness. Chills. Sweating.

What would your father say?

He didn’t need to consult the numerous stacks of books shoved into his office to know what Ahk suffered from, but he was far away in Thebes, and you wouldn’t dare leave the Prince’s side, in fear of his condition and the wrath of his father should he suffer grievously.

“I told you not to eat those date rolls,” you chided, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. That must’ve been the cause—sickness carried through infirm food. You could think of nothing else.

He didn’t say anything. Not for a little while, at least. He continued to blink, albeit slow, and stared unceasingly into you.

“He is in your eyes,” he whispered, his own eyes flickering between yours. “And... speaking.”

“Who do you see?” You asked softly, suddenly reluctant to blink.

“Heka.”

Not a God of magic, but the personification of it. The genuine representation of healing and enchantments. His fertile, black skin made of the Nile’s silt was reflected in your own complexion—darker than night, flanked by eyes that appeared to glow against the midnight of you.

“What is he saying?” You said, readjusting yourself beside his hand, a seriousness edging your tone. Claims of Heka were not to be taken lightly.

“Pledging.. love.”

“For who?”

“... me,” he whispered.

“Beloved of...”

“Beloved of you,” he interrupted before you could finish your thought, a smile creeping at the edges of his pale lips.

You chuckled softly, reaching up to stroke your thumb over the back of his hand. He was returning to a saner state of mind.

“Perhaps so,” you murmured.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Night at the Museum #Ahkmenrah

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Hello! If this prompt is to your liking - something along the Ladyhawke plot? Basically, during the day LWJ is turned into an animal while WWX is human, and in the night returns to human but then WWX is turned into an animal :) Or, for simplicity’s sake, I‘d just like to see LWJ turned into a bunny XD attempting to communicate with WWX who is oblivious, as you’d expect. Thank you! Your writing is amazing and I’m so pleased to read it always.

The f‎irst thing Wei Wuxian was aware of in his new life, before he ever recalled his name or recovered his cultivation, was the feeling of safety and security that came from being held in the palms of two hands, strong but soft.

Wei Wuxian had been the last and smallest of a too-large litter, causing his mother to bare her teeth at him and chase him away no matter how pitifully he cried. By the laws of nature, he should have died, unloved, but even before he remembered his past deeds he was never one to be bound by those laws. He was lucky: the soft hands came for him then, lifting him high off the ground, letting him shiver against a warm breast and even faithfully feeding him milk from a hollow reed every time he was hungry.

After some time, the haze of infancy cleared from his eyes and, for the first time, the soft hands offered him a leaf instead of milk. It was a good leaf, too. Crunchy and firm, unmarred by any insect bites and still wet from the morning dew.

Wei Wuxian gnawed on it, quite content, and reached up with his left hindleg to lazily scratch at his long floppy ear. For a rabbit, this was the very definition‎ of paradise.

Not bad at all, he thought to himself, quite smug, and not for the first time considered himself rather lucky in comparison to his stronger brothers and sisters, who were probably being taught to forage even now. They might have a mother, but Wei Wuxian has a pair of soft hands framed by long, sweeping white sleeves, and he thought that he did quite well out the bargain.

With such thoughts, he was naturally reluctant to be left behind. He followed those hands on their daily rounds, hopping‎ down dabbled forest pathways made of stone and painstakingly climbing steps to sit in cold rooms that smelt of sandalwood while the soft hands plucked at the strings of a guqin. He wouldn't hold himself back, either: he would nuzzle a kneeling thigh or try to clamber onto the man's belly to sleep, and he was never rejected. Even when he couldn't keep up, he shamelessly cried until the hands came and gathered him up close, letting him rest his sable head against the stark white robes and listen to the comforting sound of a strong heartbeat.

All things considered, Wei Wuxian was quite pleased with his life, a state of affairs that lasted right up until the first time the hands wrapped up the guqin in a white cloth, drew an ice-pale sword from its sheath and took to the air, leaving Wei Wuxian behind, abandoned and bereft.

Obviously, this was absolutely intolerable.

Wei Wuxian settled himself down on the bed and began loudly crying. Other pairs of hands, smaller ones that sometimes brought treats, sought to comfort him‎, but he remained steadfast in his misery, lying prone on his side and weeping until he fell asleep and then waking up and starting all over again.

"He missed you a lot," the white-clad ‎child murmured anxiously to the soft hands when they return a few endless days later. "He wouldn't even eat - I even tried offering him some of the pickled cabbage he's always stealing from your table, but he wouldn't take it. Forgive me, Hanguang-Jun -"

"Forgiven."

Something about that voice echoed in his mind as familiar, but Wei Wuxian was distracted by picking himself up and throwing himself at his pair of soft hands at once, unable to hold a grudge and act indifferent the way he'd schemed he would, taking a mighty leap that did not even begin to trouble his pillar of stability though it did make the child giggle.

"I told you he missed you!"

"En."

The soft hands caressed Wei Wuxian quietly, then - as if familiar with the pain of separation, the torture of longing for what is not there - did not put him down. Instead, they brought close a dish of leaves and grasses for him to eat while still pressed up close to that broad chest, his ears full of that strong heartbeat that showed he was still alive, warmed by the bright golden core within.

Wei Wuxian, as always, forgot his woes, and was happy.

He was full, he was warm, tucked in safely into the collar of long white robes embroidered with clouds‎, and he could think of nothing at all that might disturb his joy.

That state of affairs lasted for about an hour, until another voice, also familiar but less so, said, "I am pleased that you have returned safely, Wangji."

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, startled out of his planned nap.

Wangji? Lan Wangji - Lan-er-gongzi - Lan Zhan -

White robes, like mourning; clouds, to signify the main family; soft hands, a gentle voice, upright manner, the guqin -

His soft hands were Lan Wangji!

‎Wei Wuxian remembered, suddenly, all of his past life of toil and hardship - his carefree youth at Yunmeng, his brief time at the Cloud Recesses, his wide broad road turning narrow and dark -

He dismissed the latter part as unimportant.

"It seems your pet rabbit had also missed you," Lan Xichen, now recognizable, added, his voice slightly mischievous in a way that was familiar as well.

"En," Lan Wangji replied, calm as ever.

Wei Wuxian began cackling at once, little huffing rabbit sounds.

Who would think, he thought to himself gleefully as he raised up his head to take a look, that Lan Wangji, of all people, would break the rules of his sect to adopt ‎-

To adopt -

A rabbit.

A rabbit!

He was a rabbit! Wei Wuxian, Wei Ying, Yiling Patriarch, demonic cultivator -

He was the rabbit Lan Wangji had broken his sect's rules to adopt!

Wei Wuxian's head lolled back, stunned into a daze that did not abate even when Lan Wangji gently caressed his small head with his soft hands.

Of course Lan Wangji would adopt a demonic cultivator rabbit, he thought. That would just be his luck, breaking his precious rules for me of all people. But what did I do wrong to be reborn as an animal?

Well, actually, he'd done rather a few things wrong, come to think about it. And even if he was a rabbit, he'd had the best possible‎ life as one - he barely had to twitch his nose for a half dozen Lan disciples, not to mention the great Hanguang-jun himself, to scurry over to tend to his every need, so clearly the heavens weren’t intending on punishing him that badly.

Not to mention, he ‎seemed to still have his spiritual awareness - something of a new development, in fact, as he'd only noticed Lan Wangji's golden core for the first time today.

Of course, that didn't really matter. What use was spiritual awareness to a rabbit? All it meant was that he was now a yao, capable of cultivating and, if he turned evil, to be a target for a night hunt led by righteous cultivators.

He'd had quite enough of tha‎t in his last lifetime, thank you.

No, there was no benefit, except maybe the possibility of one day cultivating enough to form a beast core and transform into a human being -

Hm.

"Are you sure you will head out again so soon?" Lan Xichen asked. "You are still barely recovered from your injuries; for you to go out alone could be dangerous -"

Wait, what? Lan Wangji? Injured? Alone?

Absolutely unacceptable!

Clearly Wei Wuxian was going to need to get on that yao cultivation business sooner rather than later. Someone needed to take care of Lan Wangji, if he wasn’t willing to do it himself – and why not him?

After all, Lan Wangji was his pet human.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #my fic #my fics #okay this is the exact opposite of one of your prompts #but hopefully it still works for you #untillambsbecomelionss

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katiemcgrath · 4 years

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Let’s go through these names:

Sarah Reed (Black), 32, had severe mental health issues which was known to prison officers and doctors. She had been complaining about being unwell and untreated to her mum for a long time. She was found dead in her cell at Holloway Prison in 2012, they lied and said she was found hanging in her cell, she wasn’t - she was found in her bed. There’s video footage of a police officer punching her and grabbing her hair after she was arrested for shoplifting - the officer was suspended and faced no criminal charges.

Mark Duggan (Black), 29, in 2011 Mark Duggan was shot by police in Tottenham, London, the police chased him in a minicab claiming he had a gun - a gun was later found 7 metres away from the minicab. Protests and riots in London and other areas of England ensued. The police were cleared of any wrongdoing.

Sheku Bayoh (Black), 31, was murdered by police in 2015 in Fife, Scotland. Very similar to George Floyd, Bayoh was knelt on by police for 9 minutes. Much like George Floyd, Sheku Bayoh’s last words were also ‘I can’t breath’. The police were not charged.

Christopher Alder (Black), 37, was a computer programmer for the British army. He was arrested in 1998 after he was punched at a nightclub and was supposedly ‘aggressive’ at a hospital. He was found ‘face down on a custody suite floor, with his trousers round his ankles and his hands cuffed behind his back, while police officers made monkey imitations and references to banana boots and a hood with slits.’ The officers were cleared of any wrong doing.

Smiley Culture (Black), 48, Culture stabbed himself in the heart (hmm) when police raided his home in London. His death was a contributing factor in the 2011 riots.

Jimmy Mubenga (Black), 46, Mubenga was being deported - three private security guards held him down on the plane and restricted his breathing, despite already being handcuffed to the seat. His last words were also ‘I can’t breath’. Th officers were cleared of manslaughter.

Michael Powell (Black), 38, Powell had many mental health difficulties and dealt with it by taking drugs. In 2013, his mother called the police on him after he started smashing car windows this a hammer, she was afraid and just wanted him restrained. Several police officers came and subdued him using pepper spray. He died in the back of the police van. All officers were cleared but it’s okay because over 10 years later, police have apologised for the pain and suffering he was in.

Leon Briggs (Black), 39, Briggs died in custody in 2013 after being held under Mental Health Act but no medical intervention was sought, he became unconscious and died. Police officers were cleared of any wrong doing. They were suspended with full pay.

Ricky Bishop (Black), 25, police in Brixton, London, in 2001 claimed Bishop was attempting to escape so held him down, he had a heart attack. He was still in cuffs when he arrived at the hospital. All officers were cleared.

Brian Douglas (Black), in 2005 PC Tuffey hit Douglas over the head with a police baton. Douglas was arrested and despite vomiting in his cell, he wasn’t taken to the hospital until 14 hours later, he suffered a fractured skull and damage to his brain stem. No disciplinary action was taken against the police.

Joy Gardner, (Jamaican), 40, “They say she was ‘illegal’, but she wasn’t illegal. She came here legally, she paid her fare, but she overstayed her time.“Then they broke into her flat, put 13 feet of tape around her head and a belt on her legs, and they suffocated her.” The police were cleared.

Roger Sylvester (Black), 30, Sylvester suffered from mental health illnesses. He was arrested in 1999 and held down by six officers. He fell in to a coma and never regained consciousness. The police were cleared of any wronging.

Azelle Rodney (Black),16, was shot by police 6 times in 2013. The officer said he suspected Rodney was hiding a machine gun. No machine guns were found on his person. The officer in question was arrested and sent to trial but the jury found him not guilty.

Habib Ullah (South Asian), 39, ‘During one hearing Emma Forbes, who was present at the time, said officers had held Mr Ullah face down on the ground at one point, and said they had “their hands around his throat, pressing down and putting their hands in his mouth at the same time”.’

Faruk Ali (South Asian), in Luton 2014, two police officers laughed as they chased after Ali, (who is autistic and has the mental age of 5) in their car and the proceeded to beat him. Thankfully, Mr Ali is alive and well. This incident lead to protests and a demand for justice for people with mental health issues. The police officers were sacked but no charges were made against them.

Adrian Thompson (Black), 34, Thomson was tasered by police after he was accused of breaking into flats when in fact he went to a friend’s birthday party. He died in the back of the police van.

Jean Charles de Menezes (Brazillian), 27, was shot by police after they suspected him of being a terrorist a day after the London 7/7 bombings in 2005 (he was not, it was mistaken identity but police shot first). No officers were charged, his parents took the case of the ECJ but they lost the fight.

Demetre Fraser (Black), 21, Fraser died after falling 11ft from a tower block in Birgmingham in 2014 after being chased by police. Police were not at fault according to met.

Aston McLean (Black), 27, McLean was being chased by police in 2014 when he was hit by an armed response vehicle. McLean was pepper sprayed before he was hit. officers cleared.

Olaseni Lewis (Black), 23, Lewis died after being restrained by 11 police officers. Officers were not charged but a law called ‘Seni’s law’ came into effect in 2018 ‘ Under the new legislation, hospitals will be required to publish data on how and when physical force is used.’

Anthony Grainger (Black), 36, was shot through the chest as he sat in a car in the village of Culcheth, Cheshire, by an armed police officer known as “Q9” in March 2012. Police were cleared.

David “Rocky” Benett (Black), Benett suffered with mental health illnesses. He was restrained for 25 minutes by up to five NHS staff members. He had punched a female member of staff after being moved to a different ward to separate him from another patient he had hit, but who later attacked Mr Bennett and racially abused him.“Rocky died a brutal death,” Dr Bennett said. “He was pinned face down on the ground by the very people who we trusted to care for him. “It breaks my heart every time I think about that night and it will live with me and my family forever.”

Alton Manning (Black), 33, “Manning, a prisoner on remand, and was killed on 8th December 1995 after being assaulted by prison officers at the private prison HMP Blakenhurst. An Inquest, which originally opened on Monday 12th January 1998 and concluded on 25th March 1998, unanimously decided that Alton Manning was unlawfully killed.” The officers were cleared.

Mark Nune (Black), 35, police acted as judge, jury and executioner after shooting Nune during a robbery.

- it’s not mentioned here so I’m not going to go into it right now by please search up Stephen Lawrence, it is an extremely important case and if there’s one thing you can do for his memory is learn about him and remember his name.

#uk politics #black lives matter #this took me over an hour and now I'm depressed #but that's okay baby before I'm an educator (;#forgive for any errors #I really did spend over an hour #I use google so you don't have to

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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Tears of Joy

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - this scene takes place at the end of Ch. 13 in the romantic route. Spoilers! Approx. 2300 words

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Trust

Mitsuhide worked from the hallway, sending orders and letters through Kyubei to see to the settling of the shogun and his new staff. It was tiring work - but satisfying. Against the odds, he’d succeeded yet again. With help, of course, but it was still remarkable what victory could be pulled from a little wit and a lot of will.

Kyubei arrived with the latest information, his expression one of grim resolve. His hand kept touching the short, dark fuzz at the top of his head. A new nervous gesture, Mitsuhide surmised. The vassal and spy had been uneasy since the shogun’s death. Despite that, he was doing an excellent job teaching Riku how to imitate Yoshiaki and filling him in on things the scribe hadn’t known about his lord.

“What news?” Mitsuhide set down his report from Chugaki and gave his vassal full attention.

Kyubei swallowed. “Ah, it looks like the pirates will be on their way by this evening. Mouri hasn’t announced an official withdrawal, but his warriors are packing up all the weapons and sake they can carry . . .” He paused and glanced toward the closed door behind Mitsuhide. Though he had obvious questions, he continued with his report. “The Ikko Ikki are all but gone. Kennyo and a few of his close confidants remain.”

“As expected. I was unable to embed another pair of eyes with the monks, but we should receive regular reports on the doings of Motonari when he sets sail. Anything else?” Mitsuhide knew there was more. Otherwise Kyubei would have sent information like this in a written report.

Kyubei’s eyes went to the door again. “There were, that is, I overheard some of the pirates discussing the chatelaine. Apparently, some are under the impression she will be leaving with Mouri.”

Mitsuhide’s eyes flashed and his smile turned sharp. “I assure you that is not the case.”

“I didn’t think so, my lord.” He paused again, then bowed. “I - I also wanted to offer my apology. Words are not enough, of course. I will - I will do whatever you think is fitting. But . . . I allowed the chatelaine to come to harm. I tore her clothes and frightened her. I failed to protect her and made her captivity worse. If you hadn’t arrived when you did . . .” His voice cracked and he went silent.

“You believe your choices led her to be captured?” Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow.

“No - not directly. But if I’d warned you of the ninja sooner-”

“I would still have been no more likely to catch him on his way in or out of our blockade.” Mitsuhide frowned. “I knew there was risk in leaving her alone. She did as well. Neither of us has regret.”

Kyubei’s head bobbed, but he still didn’t straighten. “I didn’t help her escape. I was afraid it would expose my mission. She was hurt as a result.”

“Yes,” Mitsuhide said dryly. “And you tore her kimono to make it look as if you’d taken her, yes?”

Kyubei nodded again.

“Also to preserve your cover. And if you had been exposed, she would have been taken to the barracks for their pleasure. I fail to see how that would have improved her situation.”

“But my lord . . . she might have died.” Kyubei’s voice was hoarse and low.

Mitsuhide agreed. “She risked her life for our mission. Do not diminish that by taking her pain as your failure. We all did what we must to see this through.”

“Then I have your forgiveness?”

“There is nothing to be forgiven. Now go - I am sure the shogun has need of you.” Mitsuhide waved him away.

Kyubei bowed even lower before standing and hurrying away.

He sat still as a stone until the sound of his vassal’s footsteps faded to nothing. Then he stood and quietly entered the room. There was a little light from the setting sun outside. The air here smelled of ginger, reeds, and honey - the fragrant parts of the ointment he used on his little one. Mitsuhide sank silently to the floor beside her.

She was still asleep. Deeply so. Her body was recovering from her ordeal. A brutal abduction, a restless day trapped in a store room, and then a near-death experience. She was so fragile, and yet strong.

His hands shook as he tenderly ran his fingers through her hair. She meant so much to him, this sweet little mouse. Mitsuhide was finally forced to acknowledge just how close he’d come to losing her. Or worse. He ran his hand over her shoulders just to reassure himself she was there and whole. The bruises were already fading. Her throat had a thin, dark scab where Yoshiaki’s knife had pressed too close. In a few weeks, this would be only a memory. One he hoped would disappear beneath the joy of their life together.

“M-mitsuhide?” Her lashes fluttered as she tried to open her eyes.

“I am here little one.”

Her hand reached for him, cool fingertips tracing his cheekbones. “Are you crying?”

He was, he realized.

“I’m ok. You - you shouldn’t cry.” She sat up and looked at him. Her eyes were wide in the dim light.

“They are tears of joy. See?” He smiled.

She scooted forward and snuggled into his lap. When she was comfortable again, she looked up at him. “You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Then you know I’m not. Or . . . not completely.” Which was true. He was relieved she was alright.

“Mmm. I suppose I will take that. But you know, the crying part is my job. So next time . . .” She brushed a tear from his cheek. “Next time leave it to me. I c-can’t bear to see you look so sad.”

“Nor I, you.”

She quieted down at that, and closed her eyes. Her head rested on his chest, and he could feel the tickle of her steady breath. Mitsuhide might have laid down with her on the futon, but a knock at the door spoiled the moment.

“Enter,” he said, thinking it would be a servant, perhaps with dinner. Instead, it was Kennyo.

The abbot gave him a wary look. “Our alliance is at an end, kitsune. We have what we wanted from this venture.”

“It is. Which begs the question . . . why are you still here?”

Kennyo’s dark gaze fell to the chatelaine. She’d fallen asleep again, and showed no signs of rousing. “How is she? She looks better.”

“She is.”

The abbot seemed to struggle within himself for a moment. Then he took a packet from his robes and held it out to Mitsuhide. “Give this to her when she wakes. It is best to prepare it as a tea, steeped until dark. Then she must drink it while it is still warm.”

Mitsuhide looked at the small, paper packet with some distrust.

“Take it. I would not poison her.”

“Not even for your revenge?” Mitsuhide’s eyebrow rose.

Kennyo’s frown deepened and he met the kitsune warlord’s gaze. After several tense heartbeats, his response rumbled between clenched teeth. “I would not harm her, even for that.”

Mitsuhide took the packet and tucked it into his kimono. “I believe you.”

The abbot gave a brief nod and his eyes fell to the sleeping girl. His expression softened by the barest shadow. “I hope you will take better care of her. Know that I will be watching.”

Then he turned on his heel and left. The door slid shut behind him, fast and silent.

The lovers were alone again.

“It seems you brought a little light to that demon’s heart, mouse.” Mitsuhide kissed her temple. “I would not have thought it possible. But you work miracles. I am proof of that.”

She smiled in her sleep, lulled to sweet dreams by the sound of her soulmate’s heartbeat.

***

Morning came with pale yellow light and the sound of talk, even laughter, from the fortress. People returning to normal after the brief but deadly fighting. Mitsuhide was glad they were able to go back to their lives - or to make a new place for themselves. Something he intended to do as soon as they returned to Azuchi.

His little mouse stirred and yawned. Then she looked around the room with a dazed expression. “Did I sleep the whole night?”

“You did.”

“Just like this?” She ran her fingertip along his collarbone.

Mitsuhide shivered at the touch, feeling it awaken something inside him. A fire he’d kept banked for months now. “Not quite like that,” he grinned. “But in my arms? Yes.”

“What? But . . . did you get any rest?”

“I did. I found watching you sleep to be very restful.” This was truth. He’d spent the night listening to her breath, letting her warmth soak into him.

She frowned. “That’s not what I meant! I mean real sleep. You need to get some too. You are human.”

“Are you sure?” He raised an eyebrow and chuckled as she smacked his arm. “You seem to be feeling better.”

“I am. I’d feel even better with a bath.”

Mitsuhide remembered their last bath, shared at an inn. He’d teased her until they were both desperate, and he’d left them like that. Unwilling to take that final step with her until he was sure he would be there after. “Are you very dirty?” He lifted her enough for his lips to find her neck and nibble the skin just under her ear.

She squealed and pretended to try to escape.

“Mmm, you taste pretty clean to me. But perhaps I need to sample a wider selection.”

“Mitsuhide!” She wriggled, trying to get out of his lap. “You can’t be serious!”

“I am always serious when it comes to you.” He let her out of his grasp and watched as she got up. She didn’t look unsteady, but he still stood and offered her his hand. “I suppose I will have to take your word about the need for a bath. But I think we should return to Kyoto before we indulge.”

His little mouse considered, then nodded. “Yeah. If I take a bath before we ride back, I’ll just be filthy again by the time we get there.” She looked around the room. “Are we leaving here already?”

“We are. Kyubei has things in hand and a longer stay will only raise questions.” He pointed to some clothes folded in the corner. “Get dressed and I’ll send word we are leaving.”

She smiled. “Alright. I’ll try to hurry.”

Mitsuhide left her in the room and went to find a servant. It wasn’t hard to do, and soon enough he was on his way back. He was stopped by the silver gleam of a pistol. At the other end of the barrel, a wobbly Motonari stood, braced against the wall.

“Yer not goin’ back.” His eyes were glazed with heavy drink and he stunk of sweat, gunpowder, and alcohol.

“And I suppose you plan to . . . what? Shoot me? Kidnap my little mouse? Flee to your ship?”

Motonari shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanna kill ya. One more enemy crossed off my list.”

Mitsuhide grinned. “I doubt that. This isn’t much of a struggle.” His eyes were hard despite the smile. “And if this is for her . . . you know she would never forgive you.”

“She’d get over it. Women . . .” he belched. “Women always do.”

“My little one isn’t ‘women’,” Mitsuhide replied. “Even you must know that by now. ”

Motonari began to laugh. He waved his gun toward the door. “Ya get in there before ya say anythin’ more stupid than that.” He pushed past Mitsuhide, stumbling down the hall.

Mitsuhide rushed to the room and slid open the door. His little one squeaked and pulled her kimono closed.

“I’m not dressed yet!”

He looked around, reassuring himself that everything was as he’d left it. “Perhaps that is why I hurried back.” Mitsuhide gave her a wicked smile. He didn’t tell her about Motonari in the hall. She didn’t need to know.

“Pffft,” she stuck her tongue out at him, but he could tell the flattery made her happy.

They rode out from the fortress before noon, sharing a saddle. The day felt brighter the further from the fortress they got. Mitsuhide knew he wasn’t the only one that felt that way. He could see it in the set of his lover’s shoulders and in the way she smiled.

Once the bloodstained fortress was only a memory hidden behind the dust of the road, she spoke. “I feel like I am riding toward a whole new life. Like . . . like everything is different. Just because one man died. Isn’t that silly?”

“I don’t think it is.” Mitsuhide rested his chin on her head. “Yoshiaki caused so much death and misery with his ambition. That is why we did what we had to.”

“But there are other people just as bad-”

“And none of them are shogun.” He held the reins with one hand and used the other to hug her closer.

After a long silence, she nodded. “I guess I just feel guilty for being glad he’s dead.”

“Don’t.” He paused, then added, “Besides, shogun Ashikaga is just fine. He’s simply in exile. Staying far away from the capital and politics for the rest of his life.”

“Mmhmm. Poor Riku.” She tapped her chin. “Do you think he’ll do ok?”

“With the help we’ve given him, that scribe will be a much better shogun than Yoshiaki. You’ll see.” Then he moved their conversation to lighter things. “After we arrive at the inn, I will send out for food. What treats would tempt my little mouse?” That was all it took to send her into a monologue of her favorite foods.

She took such delight in the little things. It made Mitsuhide want to have joy in them too. He promised himself he would try. For her - he would do anything. So ran his thoughts as they passed the gate into Kyoto and caught sight of the inn.

Then all he could think of was their bath, and how very much he was looking forward to enjoying it with her.

Next: Delicious SFW/NSFW

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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janamelie · 3 years

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Dimension Jump XXI Report

I suppose I’m a DJ veteran now as this was my fifth consecutive one and the fourth at the Nottingham Crowne Plaza which is an expensive four-star hotel. Sharing with a friend helps keep the cost reasonable and honestly, it’s worth it for the sheer convenience of being right there in the hotel and being able to nip back to your room as required. (To be clear, you don’t have to stay in the hotel to attend the con. There are plenty of other hotels nearby.)

Plus there is always the chance that you’ll see a guest at breakfast as I did Danny once. He picked out a few pieces of fruit and nibbled at them before wandering over late to his photoshoot. What else would you expect from a cat though?

Friday

Myself and @downonthepharm-red-dwarf (Amy) had arrived the previous day so had plenty of time to be near the front of the queue for registration. Which meant we saw Hattie Hayridge arrive in a stunning designer coat and with smart luggage. She really brought her outfit A-game and looked great the whole weekend.

Once we’d presented our respective proofs of full Covid vaccination or a recent negative test, we were given our DJ passes and booklets. The latter has spaces for signatures from guests, an Order Of Events and various handy tips for the weekend.

The con kicks off at 5pm with an hour of gradual build-up in the Main Hall - they show videos from previous events, specially made titbits with various guests past and present such as Mark Dexter doing a mock guide to DJ and Rebecca Blackstone voicing Pree. It all helps with the atmosphere, as do the numerous RD posters dotted around the hotel.

Then it was time for the Opening Ceremony featuring various Fan Club team members and an overcrowded stage full of cardboard boxes - the joke was that they’d had too much time on their hands during lockdowns and bought loads of stuff online. It was obviously also a nod to Lister’s hoarding in “The Promised Land”.

The sketch featured a specially made shot of the AA adverts’ Starbug model landing outside the Crowne Plaza and an 80s computerised version of the lovely convention logo. You could tell a lot of loving effort had gone into the whole thing.

Once the guest line-up had been announced (I’ll get to that not-really-a-surprise-guest shortly), we went straight into the RD Pub Quiz, hosted by Hattie. DOTP and I had been joined at our table by Lapsang and Barbs from our Discord (No Kind Of Atmosphere) plus various other attendees we’d befriended.

Someone in the crowd yelled “I love you, Hattie!” to which she quipped “I’ve pulled already!” Another bloke shouted “Fuck off, she’s mine!” which led to a few shouts of “Fight!” When neither seemed keen to do so, Hattie joked: “Only two? That’s a bit pathetic!” and then we got started.

The quiz is hard, by design, but I’m good at quizzes and my team - No Kind Of Atmosphere after our Discord - came joint third which was gratifying. (I was on the winning team a few DJs ago, to blow my own trumpet for a moment. This is my report, after all.)

And then it was time for the first guest Q&A with - surprise, surprise - Johnny Vegas aka the Crit Cop in “Timewave”. Not a great episode but he more than made up for that with an appearance I can only describe as chaotic. Warning - DO NOT attempt to heckle him unless you want to be singled out and humiliated in front of the entire audience in a “Can’t look away” fashion which was nonetheless entertaining. The man in question tweeted about it afterwards and seems to have taken it in good spirit.

Once we’d moved on from encouraging people to leave unpleasant things in room 429, it turned out Johnny’s a big fan of the show and owned it on VHS (so did I). He thinks of the main characters, Holly would win at “Taskmaster” and had good reasons for that conclusion.

He was dubious about the pink costume he wore in “Timewave” as he thought it might take away from the character but said he eventually decided he needed to get over what he was wearing and just go for it. He also said one of his worst working moments was on “Benidorm” when he had to hold his breath underwater in a freezing swimming pool and his co-star kept forgetting her two lines so they had over 30 takes. Ouch.

Johnny left commenting that he got less love at his 50th birthday party. But we hadn’t seen the last of him by any means as people kept buying him drinks during the Auction, leading to him successfully bidding for one of the items on offer.

And then he was back for the Karaoke. Now if you - as he informed us - had to undergo emergency dental surgery in the morning and had practically lost your voice, would you sing karaoke? And not only that, would you sing a version of “Love On The Rocks” which lasted 11 minutes according to someone on Twitter (I wasn’t timing it, but I can believe it), followed by the full-length version of “American Pie”?

If you answered no, you’re clearly not Johnny Vegas. He went to bed so late that the unfortunate Fan Club team member assigned to look after him got a grand total of 90 minutes’ sleep.

Saturday

DOTP and I had paid for the Photoshoot with Mr Vegas, Danny John-Jules and Ray Fearon. We got in the queue at 9am which was when it was supposed to start. An hour later we were still waiting. Yep, Danny was late.

Once he made it to the hotel, I got my photo in front of a Science Room backdrop. You might think Mr Vegas would be hungover and rushing through it, but on the contrary, he was still enjoying the hell out of proceedings which was refreshing to see. Since he’d been added to the line-up too late to be in the souvenir booklet, he signed extra inserts for the Fan Club which they handed out to everyone at the later Autograph sessions so attendees got his autograph after all even though he’d finally left. That’s what I call throwing yourself into an event.

Next up was a combined Q&A with Danny and Ray (originally separate but Danny’s lateness meant they were teamed up). This wasn’t a problem at all though - on the contrary, it worked really well as the chumminess between them added to the vibe. Also it was Ray’s first convention so he probably preferred to have Danny backing him up, especially since the poor man tripped on his way to the stage and almost fell. I don’t think he was hurt but I cringed with secondhand embarrassment and empathy. He wasn’t the only one to fall foul of the edge of the stage that weekend; I think it was the slightly raised dancefloor in front of it.

As is usual for Danny, we were treated to over half an hour of what you can only really describe as a stream of consciousness as he pontificated about various things. He and Ray did also talk about working together on “Death In Paradise” and Ray described his worst working experience there - he had to play a scene in a club in 45 degree heat with a live snake wrapped around his neck!

Ray is attractive in a “Hollywood hunk” way and Danny was clearly conscious of this, joking that he’d “brought his own security with him” and muttering “I’m better-looking anyway!” But all in a jokey way as they’re clearly friends.

Danny had come from filming and dropped a heavy hint that he’s appearing in a Dickens adaptation which I imagine will be shown at Christmas as they generally are. He also complained that Craig Charles never answers his phone: “You send him a message and he answers it on Twitter a month later!” (Interestingly, Chris Barrie later mentioned a recent phone conversation with Craig so make of that what you will.)

Ray was quieter but happy to talk about the vagaries of showbiz and typecasting - he said that due to his Shakespearean background he gets a lot of serious roles so people were genuinely surprised that he could also do comedy but “I was always funny!” He also gently teased Danny about the age of some of his references before admitting he still finds Tommy Cooper funny.

Danny usually performs “Tongue-tied” with a good grace when inevitably asked to by an audience member but perhaps it’s finally starting to pall as this time he did it in the style of Oliver Reed’s Bill Sykes and included a lot of X-rated references to cunnilingus etc. It was entertaining though.

Next up was a live Q&A (over Zoom) with Chris Barrie. Danny decided to stick around as he wanted to show Chris something he’d ordered online. It took a while to get the cameras in the right position for Chris to be able to see it and Danny needed a knife to open the parcel, leading Chris to quip “Is this a good time for me to step out for some lunch?”

However, it turned out to be worth it as it was a custom-made Ace Rimmer doll which impressed Chris with its quality and he complimented the maker.

Danny and Ray then departed for their lunch and to take part in the Coffee Lounge which this year had reduced its numbers for Covid-related reasons and held a ballot for entry in the interests of fairness. Amy and I didn’t get in but happily stayed for the rest of Chris’s Q&A.

In the “working from home” spirit, Chris was in a hoodie in his living room as opposed to his more usual smart suit. He was suitably relaxed and revealed he got through lockdown by concentrating on the things which make him happy, such as his hobbies, his garden and his family. His favourite episodes are “Marooned”, “Dimension Jump” and - less predictably - “Twentica”. He also referred to a recent “mannerly, as he would call it” phone conversation with Craig. No details but it had clearly been a positive experience.

Amy decided to liven up the ending of his Q&A by asking a vitally important, “TPL”-related question. Whom would Rimmer find more attractive, a female version of Lister or a female version of Cat?

Once the laughter had died down and Chris had bought some time by pointing out that “neither of them are women”, he gave the question appropriate consideration. He pondered whether Rimmer would be more taken by the “simple charms” of Lister or the “feline grace” of Cat. This next bit is courtesy of Amy as my memory isn’t infallible: He said it’d be a choice between a feline form or a rounder, a bit more slovenly woman - he wouldn’t want the perfectly feline woman because she might not like his imperfections, but he also wouldn’t want someone who ate curry three times a day. “Basically, a balance would be ideal.”

That was the last question but Chris provided a little more entertainment as he had a “How do you turn this off then?” moment a la Gordon the computer in “Better Than Life” and made amusing faces as he figured it out. If it was anyone but Chris I’d think it was a deliberate reference to that but I think he was genuinely befuddled.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Autographs with Hattie, Danny, Ray and Norman Lovett. I got the latter three to sign the “TPL” poster I’d brought with me but gave Hattie the booklet instead as it seemed more tactful. She complimented the dress I was wearing and I returned the compliment, telling her how much the fans appreciate the effort she makes with her DJ outfits.

Norman commented how there’s a version of the “TPL” poster he isn’t on, bemusedly. Fortunately mine was the version including him.

I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the bar with Amy, Lapsang and Barbs, chatting to other attendees. Graphic Designer Matthew Clark was now in the Merchandise Room with various props from Series XII and “TPL” including the Starbug manual used onscreen. I got his autograph on my poster but it’s an incomprehensible squiggle. Oh well. He was very friendly and easy to talk to.

After a break for dinner, the Main Hall reopened for the Costume Competition. This seems to get better every DJ, with an amazing “Greyscale Rimmer” who was discomfiting to be around due to the corpse-like makeup, a Natalina Pushkin, a Nirvanah Crane who could almost have been Jane Horrocks herself and a Diving Suit Cat from “BTE”. Other entries included Rimmer’s Mum, “Giraffes who were armed and dangerous” and a Confidence And Paranoia who were later pictured at the bar chatting to Paranoia himself, Lee Cornes.

We then had a special video message from Doug Naylor which I won’t go into as I’m sure everyone’s already heard the details. Suffice to say, his tone was positive.

The second Auction was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who made it more entertaining by adding his own commentary to each item. This was followed by a stand-up set from Norman. It was amusing but he misjudged the mood a bit, I feel. When you’re waiting for a disco to start and it’s already hours late due to Danny’s tardiness, you don’t particularly want to contemplate your own mortality. We were here to get away from all that, as much as possible.

Anyway, the Disco was a lot of fun even if Dave Benson Phillips’ presence as host was sorely missed. Hattie danced for the best part of an hour alongside everyone else. The stand-in DJs did their job and I stayed until the end. The final two songs were “Bohemian Rhapsody” and … “Tongue-tied”.

Sunday

Not being in the Sunday Photoshoot, Amy and I had a nice leisurely breakfast and got over last night’s festivities before the first Q&A, live over Zoom with Robert Llewellyn.

This was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who in his capacity as Dave era audience warm-up knows Robert well. Clearly well enough to get away with teasing him relentlessly about not being at the con in person until poor Robert was a mess of Krytenesque guilt.

His protestations that he’d been scheduled to be in Munich this weekend but no longer was (he was at home) only made things worse. Ian: “Oh, so that’s two sets of people you’ve disappointed now! Stop saying yes to things!” It was hilarious and Robert took it in its intended spirit. Also Ian was getting a measure of revenge for Robert - in character as Kryten - dry humping him at recordings. One attendee asked “With the groinal attachment?!”

Robert admitted that he finds Kryten’s various groinal attachments hilarious and if he was writing the show they’d be in every episode. He praised Doug’s restraint.

He also admitted that in “TPL” he had an earpiece to have his lines fed to him. Since it’s controlled by an iPad, certain unscrupulous cast members took great delight in feeding him rude ones.

He still intends to update “The Man In The Rubber Mask” but atm “Fully Charged” is consuming a lot of his time as it’s become much more successful than he anticipated and he’s in charge of several people.

Surprisingly, he would hate appearing in RD without the Kryten makeup, both because it’s become much quicker to apply and because it provides him with a shield and he becomes Kryten and forgets stagefright. He still can’t watch “DNA” for that reason.

Lapsang, who played Kryten in “Into The Gloop”, asked Robert if he’d seen it. He hadn’t but said he was now very curious and would find a way to.

Next up was Lee Cornes aka Paranoia who said he originally auditioned for the lead roles and like the other unsuccessful actors got the consolation prize of a guest appearance. Upon being asked if he’d gone out for a drink with Craig Ferguson’s Confidence, he said no because at the time they had a frosty relationship due to rumours that Craig was plagiarising other comics’ jokes. Lee said it was all very silly and he’s since apologised.

Interestingly, Lee is a qualified science teacher and carried on with that career alongside his media one, leading to surreal situations where his pupils would ask: “Sir? Were you on the telly last night?” “Yes.” “Are we on the telly now, sir?”

Someone asked a good question - what would Lister’s Paranoia be like now 33 years later? Lee would be willing to reprise the role but isn’t sure it would work as the original had a childish quality whereas he feels now the character would be a lot darker and less funny. Lee was both thoughtful and entertaining in his responses.

He was followed onstage by Hattie and Norman, who resolutely refused to rise to the bait of an audience member attempting to stir up a rivalry between them. That only works when one isn’t the nicest person you could meet.

A tactless audience member asked both if they’d watched “TPL” instead of directing the question at Norman. Luckily Hattie had seen it and particularly enjoyed the cat flap joke although she felt there was a little too much focus on the guest cast.

Norman didn’t really watch RD after he left but Hattie has seen Norman’s early episodes as he lent them to her back when she was originally cast as Hilly for research purposes. Bear in mind this was 1988 when they weren’t even available on VHS so presumably he recorded them off the TV.

Hattie confirmed with a sigh that she’s simply never been asked to return in any capacity: “That’s the short answer.” What the hell, I’ll say it one more time - Bring Back Hattie! One episode, that’s all I ask. As it stands, it’s starting to look like a pointed and deliberate snub which mystifies me.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Rob Grant and Paul Jackson. For obvious reasons they didn’t go into the current legal mess, opting instead to entertain the fans with the story of how they met and their early pre-RD work (Rob and Doug as freelance writers for Paul’s producer).

We saw some clips from their early shows including “Three Of A Kind” with Lenny Henry, Tracy Ullman and … later magician David Copperfield; apparently they all had the same agent and Paul took on David as a favour. For a 40 year old show it held up pretty well and was in much better sound and picture quality than older shows often are. “Carrott’s Lib” was just as funny.

It’s a bit hard to summarise but this session was entertaining and gripping. Rob still wants to write another RD novel and I believe there’s nothing actually stopping him as both he and Doug had an option to write a second solo novel. So we’ll see.

The final Q&A was Matthew Clark who was very informative and interesting, showing us numerous production stills from Series XII and “TPL” and talking us through them. There was a groan when time was called before he was finished.

By now time was running short and Amy and I went back to the room to pack and leave our luggage with reception before watching the start of “Dibbley Family Fortunes”. Since I knew I wouldn’t have time to watch it all, I instead nipped upstairs to Autographs with Lee and Ian, timing it perfectly as the queue had almost vanished.

Ian was still performing, drawing scornful attention to the fact that Lee had a longer queue: “Can you imagine all these people queueing to see Lee Cornes?!” It sounds rude out of context but he was clearly joking.

I decided to ask Lee what flavour the yogurt Paranoia eats was. He said it didn’t really taste of anything as it was the cheapest, nastiest canteen yogurt available and was also starting to curdle under the studio lights so eating it can’t have been much fun.

Since I now had about 15 minutes before I had to go, I caught a bit of Dibbley Family Fortunes, said goodbye to Amy, Lapsang and Barbs and then dashed off to catch the tram to the train station. Another great DJ.

#red dwarf

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Inception: Chapter 6

The City of Mondstat--what a gorgeous place to host the wind archon! You admired the city gates as you and Ajax crossed the cobblestone bridge that greets guests and attendees alike. The sour face a little boy made as your presence scared the pigeons away made you feel a little bad--it wasn't the first time you've interrupted his pigeon hangouts.

"I'll put our belongings in our apartment. Why don't you take a look around the shops? I'll buy you whatever you like once I've checked in." Ajax removed the pack from your shoulders before you had the chance to answer. "My day will be busy in a bit, so you'll be on your own until late evening. I hope that won't be of any trouble?"

"Of course not. Besides, I have friends here too."

Friends, only as in the wealthiest bachelor in Mond: Diluc! You had met him in the wilderness bordering Liyue and Mondstat, where you had been following a particularly rowdy group of Fatui under Childe's supervision. It had been dark and gloomy, the land filled with thunderous rain that refused to let up, and you were vulnerable to those cryo vultures of agents. Of course, this was during the time after your mother died and were beginning to contemplate causing trouble for the Fatui.

And like a dumbass, you weren't at all careful in the beginning. That night you had bitten off more than you could chew--especially since you had never once used the vision in your pocket and your martial arts skills weren't as refined as they were now. Luckily Diluc was on a similar mission and intervened before you were severely injured. A deep respect formed for one another's resolves and you've been sharing intel with each other ever since.

So where better to go, than to Angel Share? Shopping could wait until later when Ajax would be by your side!

Just as you reached the tavern, you spotted a particularly well-dressed man with long blue hair sitting at one of the tables at the entrance. A few empty pints lay strewn about on his table, his cheeks a faint tint of buzzed-pink. He seemed to be enjoying himself when he spotted you. "Hey, fancy joining me here for a bit?"

"Hm? Oh, uh, sure? I don't believe I know you." You sat across from him and eyed whatever it was he was drinking. 'Dandelion wine.' You've tried it once before; it was light and airy, the fizz of alcohol tickling your taste buds with each sip. You weren't a frequent drinker though, so it's been quite some time since your last taste of alcohol.

"Kaeya, Knight of Favonius," the man held his gloved hand out to you, and you took it with little hesitance. The people of Mondstat were always warm and welcoming. "Who might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Reed. It's nice to meet you, Sir Kaeya. Do you come to Angel Share often? I thought it's unprofessional for knights to be seen at taverns." Especially since it's the middle of the day! Shouldn't he be on duty?!

"On the contrary, taverns are excellent sources of information. Though I suppose I come here more often than what's considered necessary." Kaeya's eye carefully narrowed as he studied you, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I've never seen you in Mondstat before."

"To tell you the truth, it's been like six months since I've last visited," you chuckled, making certain he didn't notice your interest in his interestingly-shaped pupil. Maybe it was some rare genetic trait you've never heard of before?

"Oh? You must be a traveler then, no?"

"Not really. I'm from Liyue, actually."

"Ah! The City of Contracts. But I sense you're not native to Liyue." You blinked in confusion as a smirk formed on his face. "Your intonation suggests Liyue origin as do your clothes, but your enunciation says otherwise. May I take a guess?"

Your seat creaked as you sat up straighter. "U-Uh...sure..."

Kaeya leaned back in his seat and sized you up with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He calmly took a sip of his wine, licking the excess off the corner of his lower lip. After a few seconds, he appeared to confirm his thoughts. "Mm, yes. You're from Snezhnaya, no doubt."

A meek nod from you sent him chuckling. There was a strange sense of danger lurking in your chest, tightening evermore as he watched you like prey. Just who was this knight? Why did a dangerous chill run down your back? It wouldn't be the first time people have shown their darker sides to Snezhnayan emigrants--"How did you..."

"Heh, don't take it so seriously. I am a knight, after all. They don't just let anyone get the job." Kaeya took another, deeper gulp of wine this time and placed his pint down. His smile was friendlier now, allowing you to relax back into your seat. "So, are you here for business or pleasure?"

A faint blush reached your cheeks. "Business, I guess. But it's not mine. My...friend is here for business reasons, I'm just tagging along with him."

"Oh? If he has a branch here, I might know him. Who is this friend of yours?"

"Oh, his name's Ajax. He's actually a toy seller."

Kaeya's eye widened slightly at this. There are no Liyue toy sellers that visit Mondstat, save for travelling merchants. "A toy seller? Fascinating." He goaded you to continue with a nod.

"He's pretty private when it comes to work; doesn't like to mix it with personal matters. We'll be staying here for a few days, so I'm sure you'll be seeing more of us."

"Is he Snezhnayan too?"

"...Okay, you're creepily good."

Kaeya gave you a lazy shrug and smirked. "What can I say? I have a talent for this sort of thing." But when he returned to his normal posture, the mysterious glint in his eye was gone. Something contemplative, darker, was lurking. Something you didn't recognize nor understand.

And there was that flight-or-fight feeling again--

"There you are, ojou-chan!" A hand landed on your shoulder, and you startled. "I couldn't find you at the shops. I spotted a floral store nearby. Shall we check it out?" Childe stared hard at the man you sat across from and feigned a warm smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh? Is this one of the friends you mentioned?"

"Actually I just met him. He's a knight! Kaeya, this is Ajax."

Childe stiffened behind you. You told this guy his name?! A knight?! You--You! No. This is to be expected; you don't know the truth to begin with. "I see. Well, Reed, we should get going--"

"Aw, why so cold?" Kaeya faux-pouted and readjusted one of his gloves. He wasn't a stranger to the situation. He knew exactly who Ajax was; the harbinger status reeked about him. "Reed's told me all about you. I'm honored to meet your acquaintance, Ajax." The atmosphere seemed to freeze over and a thick tension settled over the table.

"...Can't say I feel the same," Childe spoke through gritted teeth. He slapped another forced smile on and addressed you again. "Aha, Reed, we should get going. I only have a few minutes before my meeting--"

"Ah, your toy seller company? What was the name again? Even as a cavalry captain, I wasn't aware we had foreign companies in our walls." His gaze was only focused on Ajax.

"Um...What do you mean?" The grip on your shoulder tightened as a warning that went unnoticed.

"So you're truly unaware?" Kaeya's attention dropped to you and something akin to sadistic pleasure lit up his expression. "This will be quite lively indeed." He took another sip of wine before standing to meet Childe's glare head-on. "You've done an exceptional job at keeping her in the dark, if I say so myself. As to be expected from someone of your status."

"Ajax, what's he talking about?"

"Reed, let's go." He nearly lifted you up himself. Ajax grabbed your wrist and whisked you away in a hurry.

"You can't hide from the one that calls you friend!" Kaeya shouted after the two of you while Childe pulled harder at your wrist.

"What does that mean?" A glance back to the knight that held a knowing smile then to the man that held your arm gave you an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Was there something that Ajax was hiding from you, and if so, what was it if it got the attention of a Mondstat cavalry captain? "Ajax? What's he going on about?"

His grip tightened until it almost hurt. "Don't talk to him ever again." He finally let go of you once both of you were hidden from the public eye in an alleyway, but the serious look in his eyes nearly made you flinch. He never looked so--what was it? Angry? Fearful? Grim? Perhaps the most frightening part was the emptiness in those blue irises, just like the day he returned from his disappearance...

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me right?" This got his attention and his gaze landed on you without looking at you. "You're scaring me by refusing to talk." You had thought that you two had grown closer on your way to Mondstat, but now it feels like you're moving backwards.

"It's nothing, promise," Childe flashed you with a pained grin. "Just...stay away from him. He seems to target my company a lot for no reason other than prejudice."

Maybe it was because it was a Snezhnayan company? "Um, okay..." He caught onto the hesitance in your eyes, and his hands lightly rubbed the sides of your arms as he peered down at you.

"Promise me. I swear it's nothing bad."

"...I promise." But for once, you were going to break it. You knew this as you met his relieved gaze. Something isn't right. You've picked up on it before with how he wouldn't touch you when there were people around, or his nervous glances at the surrounding area before he approached you. You weren't that stupid and oblivious to his behavior. Perhaps you were trying to suppress that uneasiness whenever he was around, but it's become impossible to ignore now.

"Okay," he let out a small sigh of relief and nodded. "I'll be working late tonight, so don't wait for me when it comes to eating and sleeping. Can you do that?"

"I'm not a child, you know. I'm more than capable of handling myself," you retorted with lips twitching upward. "I'll be fine. Do what you need to do. I'll be around petting the cute dogs and cats all day!"

"I wish I could go along with you," he admitted before placing an innocent peck at your forehead. "I'll be back later."

"See ya." You stared at his back until it disappeared among the crowd and released a breath you didn't know you were holding. A hand rubbed your queasy stomach. Now to pet some animals for some anxiety relief as you think of what to do next...

Kaeya knew you'd be back later that evening at Angel Share. He was an expert at studying people and if he had learned anything from those brief chats with you, it was that you were not the kind of person that's able to let his comments go. So as he patiently sipped at his wine glass at the corner of the bar's first floor, the ringaling of the chime that indicated the entry of a new customer let him know you were right on time for the show.

Diluc raised a brow at you; he had caught a glimpse of your figure out the window earlier. It was rare for you to travel to Mond, and even more so to not have asked for Fatui intel by now. In fact, it was like you weren't in town for that information this time. You nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes flicked to the knight in the darkest corner of the tavern. "The strongest alcohol you've got, please."

Diluc watched you with concern for a moment before grabbing one of the bottles on the shelf behind him. "You're a lightweight; I wouldn't recommend you drink on an empty stomach. Have you eaten yet? I can make you something on the house if you'd like."

"That's okay, I'm not hungry."

"Very well." A pint slid to you on the bar counter and you immediately downed a concerning amount without so much as pausing for a breath. This earned another brow raise from Diluc, but he remained quiet as you walked towards Kaeya--who was already a bit tipsy and needless to say, unwelcome in this tavern.

Kaeya's lips curled upward as your footsteps got louder, and his eyes finally lifted from his glass to watch you plop down on the other side of the table. "Well well well, I wasn't expecting you to speak to me after what happened this morning. What's lil Reed want with me at this late hour?"

You swallowed the nervousness that ate at you with his sly stare and sat up straighter. "Tell me what you meant this morning."

"Oh? I don't quite remember which part," he swirled the wine in his glass. "Care to enlighten me?"

"'You can't hide from the one that calls you friend.'" Your finger tapped impatiently against the rim of your cup. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Are you certain you want to hear it?" Kaeya remained in his relaxed position with an arm across the back of his seat and a leg perched across the other. You didn't answer, your gaze instead dropping to the alcohol in your cup to avoid his predatory stare. It didn't feel safe with him eyeing you like you were food. It was as if he was able to see the thoughts swirling around inside your head. "It seems to me you already know. You've only sought me out to confirm your fears."

"Maybe I want to be wrong," you mumbled. The horrible fears that swirled in your heart weren't exactly unfounded; with what you know, they'd make more sense to be true than false. Ajax was violent after he disappeared...looking for fights even after you said your official goodbyes...it wouldn't be completely out of the question to think he'd join the Fatui.

Kaeya eyed you carefully and a smile spread across his face as he sat forward. "Well darling, I'd be more than happy to burst that hopeful bubble of yours. The question is, are you willing to pay the price?"

"I don't care about the truth hurting my fee-"

"Ah ah ah," he lazily wagged a finger at you and sat back again. "I think it's only fair that in giving you this information, I receive some in return."

"What about?"

"I've done some digging on you and your...honorary reputation in Liyue."

"That was quick."

"Isn't it? You see, Master Diluc and I have a shared interest in the Fatui. I want all the information you have on them." Known only to Kaeya, Diluc was carefully listening to this conversation and held back a scoff at this remark. Diluc did tell Kaeya about your reputation, but only after the latter insisted you and your 'friend' were connected to the Fatui Harbingers.

"Deal." Maybe Diluc doesn't like sharing his intel with the knights, but it wouldn't hurt to share the information with Kaeya. You were all on the same side here anyway.

"Good girl," he tilted his head slightly and tipped the wine glass to his lips. "Now that that's settled, go ahead and ask me."

You bit your lip and gathered the courage and anxiety that had been swirling in your stomach. A quick gulp or two...or three of your glass and you spit your thoughts out before you could shrivel up on yourself. "What do you know about my Ajax?"

The sadistic look in his eye only increased as he set his glass down for the first time in a literal hour. He didn't even hesitate to answer you. "Your 'Ajax' is none other than a Fatui Harbinger that goes by 'Childe.'"

You almost couldn't hear him with the obnoxious ringing in your ears. "A Harbinger?"

"The same one that almost drowned Liyue all those months ago. But I'm guessing you were already able to gather that much after this morning, weren't you?" He held eye contact with you and another smile danced across his lips. He could see the gears turning in your head as you struggled to digest this bombshell of information and it was oh-so delightful to watch unfold. "I'm sure you've heard of the infamous 11th Harbinger since you're originally from Snezhnaya."

"The one known for numerous kills on the battlefield," you uttered absently while vacant eyes stared at the tabletop. It hurt like hell to know the truth, but it hurt even worse that he was the same harbinger that tried to drown Liyue. That tried to drown you.

"Ding ding ding."

You downed the rest of your drink without a second thought and slammed the pint onto the table. "Diluc, I'm gonna need another. Please."

Childe met Lady Signora at the Grande Goth Hotel and after having dinner with her and her highest-ranking officers, he placed his utensils down. "As you've seen in my letter, some of my men are missing or going missing as we speak."

"You're asking for my help?" The lady looked at Childe with an exasperated expression. "I thought the Tsaritsa was correct in giving you the task. Are you saying you are unable to find leads?"

He bit his tongue to keep from losing his temper with Signora. It wasn't an understatement to say he was still salty over her deception with Zhongli that ended up making him look like a fool to the whole of Liyue. "I only came to ask if any of your men had gone missing."

Signora's eyes narrowed slightly. "Three."

"I could use those reports if you don't mind."

"They'll be at your disposal," she assured. "How many men have gone missing under your watch, Childe?"

Of course she would ask this. Childe grit his teeth. "Twenty more. A total of fifty are gone now." Feeling her judgement, he continued with a more aggressive tone. "There's little evidence to suggest they're being taken against their will, so my assumption is they're purposely abandoning their posts."

"Abandoning their posts? The Tsaritsa only recruits the loyal. Why would they turn against Her Majesty?"

"Your guess is as good as mine at this point. Rest assured that I'm working as hard as I can with the information I've been given."

"And the vigilante I've heard rumors about?"

His heart sank. "The vigilante in Liyue? I've confirmed they have nothing to do with the disappearances. The most they've done is broke an arm or two, and killing isn't their style. They were clueless when I brought the matter up to them."

"And...?"

"It's not them," he sat up and deadpanned. He had to be careful with his words now that you had managed to catch the attention of another harbinger. They definitely wouldn't give you a free pass to harass their men as you please. "There's no connection. The working theory is the Fatui are abandoning their posts due to some third party. There have been reports of cult activity as of late, though. My bet is on that."

Seemingly satisfied with his thoughts, Signora took another sip of wine. "Very well. As long as you catch the person responsible, I won't need to bring my concerns to the Tsaritsa." This earned a glare from Childe and he bit his tongue.

It was 11:30 at night when he got back to the rented apartment that he shared with you. As expected, the lights were out. Childe quietly made his way to the bed when he realized how cold it was, and you hadn't so much as left an imprint. You weren't there, and you hadn't visited it to begin with.

Shit.

The sinking feeling in his stomach only worsened as he ran full speed to that damned tavern you loved so much. His hand shook as he turned the knob and opened the door, greeted by a redheaded bartender that did not look happy to see him.

"My apologies, but we just closed," he said as he dried a wine glass with a white cloth. "We open at two tomorrow." He did his best not to act on impulse and kill the harbinger where he stood.

Childe crinkled his nose at this and looked to his left. Sure enough you were sitting across from that stupid knight. He couldn't see your face since your back was to him, but that didn't stop the pounding in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He ignored Diluc's annoyed protest and approached the table.

"Reed." His hand lightly landed your shoulder, begging for you to turn around. Instead of the usual flush of warmth he received from your vision, his hand was engulfed in flames. His vision reacted just as quickly as he removed his hand, and the vapor produced flew to the ceiling. The stinging he felt in his palm let him know he'd have blisters at the very least. His eyes widened as he came to terms with what had happened.

The pyrophobe used actual fire.

He tried again anyway. "Reed," he called out firmly, careful not to let on the shakiness in his voice. "It's late. Let's get you home." His hand reached out again but before it could make contact, your shoulders befell into flames and you stood up. He caught the devilish smirk on Kaeya's face as you did and scoffed. "Stay away from--"

"Get out." The words caught in his throat when a cold tone contrary to your vision reached his ears. "Get out before I do something I won't regret."

"Reed--"

"Get out, Childe."

"You might want to obey the lady's wishes," Kaeya egged on and finished his wine off. "When women want to be left alone, they want to be left alone."

"You," Childe growled and moved to get past you. "You--" A wall of flame blocked his path to throwing hands, and it was at this moment that Childe saw the brokenness in your eyes. They were bloodshot--you were no doubt drunk. Your face was red and puffy. You cried a lot when Kaeya told you, didn't you? "...I can explain."

"There is no undoing this," you cried out and shook your head. "You'll only dig yourself a deeper grave. Get the hell out of my sight. I never want to see you again!"

Reed, he pleaded silently, but red hair obscured his view of you.

"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises, sir. If you don't leave her alone, this constitutes as harassment and we do have a knight here that can arrest you."

"Tch. Some 'knight.'" The cocky grin on the cavalry captain only made Childe's hatred deepen. As much as he wanted to stay and try to get through to you, he'd have to force himself to leave--a harbinger making ruckus in two nations would definitely not give the Tsaritsa a good look.

..........

You needed to cool off. Diluc let you crash at the tavern much to your delight and less to his--he had insisted you come with him to his mansion since it'd be more comfortable for a lady, but you had refused and said the table you sat at was fine enough. Kaeya had left some time after Childe had, chuckling at some joke he made about the situation that wasn't funny.

The early sunrise gave you the opportunity to leave Mond before Childe could try to talk to you again. Luckily you hadn't brought much with you on the trip anyway, so you just walked out the gates with the clothes on your back without visiting the apartment that man had rent you. Surviving in the wilderness wasn't difficult and the nation of Liyue wasn't but two days' trip southwest. You've made the journey many times when consulting with Diluc over Fatui intelligence.

You weren't but halfway to Liyue Harbor--one and a half days' journey--when you encountered your first lawachurl of the trip. Usually they weren't near the roadside and they were easy to avoid, but this one was clearly agitated and actively looking for something to kill. By the time you realized what you were looking at it was already upon you. And if that weren't enough of an inconvenience, this lawachurl was different than the ones typically found in Liyue; it was purple. Electro.

"Woah, what the hell?" The words escaped you without you hearing them over the roar of the monster. "You're not supposed to exist here--" These were only found in Inazuma, a nation of islands several hundred miles away from the coast of the mainland. What was it doing here? They can't even swim!

"RAWWWWWRRRRRRRRR!" The beast bellowed yet again. It leapt into the air and attempted to crush you beneath its feet. Luckily you threw yourself out of the way just in time, the shock of the impact getting dirt into your mouth.

You've never fought one before, but you've heard the stories. They're a lot bigger in person. If Childe hadn't reunited with you, you'd never be put in this situation. That thought made your blood boil and skin flush crimson. "Like hell you're gonna get in my way right now."

"URGH!" The lawachurl stumbled back when a wall of fire hit him.

Small flames danced around your fingertips while you watched with an empty gaze. "Maybe fire isn't so bad after all."

"Milady! Stand back! We'll handle this!" Your gaze left your fingers and greeted the Millelith. Apparently this issue had somehow been reported to the Qixing...Were there more incidents like this while you were in Mond?

"What, you and your little spears? You don't even have visions."

"Stand ba--"

"AWWRRR!" The lawachurl charged at you with incredible speed. It's fists crushed the ground where you stood, but a sharp gale roughly swept you off your feet.

"What--!" Upon opening your eyes, you were greeted by particularly catlike eyes. "U-um--"

"Don't turn your back to them," the man warned, setting you down on the tree branch he stood on. Without wasting anymore time he disappeared before you and reappeared above the lawachurl. He plunged his spear down through the top of the beast's head multiple times within a second. It died not long after, its remains turning to ash that blew away with the light breeze that swept through the valley.

"'Them...?'" There's more, a shiver rolled down your spine at the reward of your vantage point. There are more. Tens of them, all electro! From what you could see through the golden leaves of the ginkgo tree you stood in, they were scattered across the yellow plains! How the hell did they...With widening eyes, your attention shifted down to the Millelith. There were roughly ten of them, all battered down and overworked. Tiny specs in the distance indicated these were the only ones left that could fight these things off.

This wasn't some small random incident. This was a battlefield.

Your gaze shifted to the mysterious young man that was killing the nearby lawachurls with the ease of a god. This must be the Vigilant Yaksha Zhongli had told you stories of when you first began working at the parlor, right? He certainly matched the description--

"Get down!" The man shouted to the Millelith as he sliced through the air above them to intervene the lawachurls that nearly overran them. "Useless!" The Millelith weren't of any help to this situation; they were practically fodder and so easily slaughtered being the normal humans they were.

Your feet acted before your mind did. Just as the yaksha cut through the air again, you punched the nearest lawachurl with a fiery fist to create a swirl reaction. It died almost instantly. The two of you nodded at one another, then he turned to the Millelith.

"These are matters for adepti. Stay out of my way."

"Y-Yes sir!" One of them said and ordered for another to report back to the Harbor to inform the Qixing of the situation. As they began to jog off, you turned to the yaksha.

"That means you too," he summoned his mask.

"But I can help!"

"Tch. Don't underestimate the abilities of adepti." The masked man turned to you, and the sight of it made your blood run cold. How did Mr. Zhongli know about such an intimidating person?

You straightened up and puffed out your chest. "There's lots of them. Wouldn't it be better if you had all the help you could get?"

"This is nothing. I've already cleared the road that leads to Liyue. You'll have a safe passage. Go now." He didn't wait for your response and was already on the other side of the river by the time you blinked.

"Like hell I'm gonna do that," you grumbled with burning skin. "Better I take my anger out on these things than wreck my room--"

A roar that was loud enough to vibrate your bones erupted from behind you. A lawachurl had somehow managed to sneak up on you within mere seconds of the yaksha's absence, and he was already long-gone somewhere in the plains. Startled, you spun around only for it's gigantic claw to swipe at you.

"Gngha!" Your training kicked in and your forearm swept through the air to collide with it's claw. The brute force of the monster's strength almost caused you to lose your footing--certainly a Visionless person would've been sent flying and severely injured--but you bit through the impact and dug your right boot into the soil. The claw pressed further against you, the monster not expecting resistance but still refusing to give in, and electricity crackled in the air. It pushed harder and harder until your knees nearly buckled under the weight. "Tch...ngh...hAA!"

With flames dancing upon your skin from the edge of your boots to the forearm that was the only thing preventing you from being crushed, you pushed back twice as hard. The fist of the lawachurl slowly but surely lifted away from you as you shoved. The spot that was touching your forearm began to burn from the heat you emitted until smoke and the foul smell of burning flesh appeared.

The monster tried to pull away from you as pain spread through its claw, but your petite hands gripped its fingers and yanked them towards you with such a force that the entire being began to fall atop you. "YOU'RE DEAD!" The shadow of the beast that fell towards you blocked out the sun, but with a fiery fist you threw upwards and lit the way until it had burned through the body. There you stood, quite literally in the carnage, with your body standing in the clear-cut cavity of the beast. Just as quickly as it landed, it turned to ash.

Childe slowly relaxed his grip on the bowstring he held against his cheek and dismissed his weapon while you regained your breath. So this is what you're capable of, he thought with a flicker of a smirk. This is how mad he made you. You were cute when you were angry...how come he didn't piss you off sooner? The sickly thrill he got at the idea of fighting you at your full potential was addicting, but as soon as it appeared it wore off after hearing the words you muttered.

"I swear to Rex Lapis if he ever comes near me again, I'll kill him."

He knew you meant it much to his delight and sorrow. The fire burning brightly in your eyes was deadly, the deep passion of the flames that licked your arm slowly burning your skin...

You didn't so much as flinch as it did.

#wesimpforxiao #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia #inception

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shreddedleopard · 3 years

Note

👀😍🥳 for the free for all:

lavender, “I missed you”, one moment I was tearing off your blouse, now you’re living in my house. What happened to just messing around?

L a v e n d a r S o a p & L o v e S o n g s

For @little--lotte

The smells were the hardest things to forget.

He was ridiculously clean; so naturally, everything smelled wonderful in his home. The kitchen was all citrus and bleach; the living room - expensive wax polish, bringing the floors to an impeccable gleam, and whichever reed diffuser was flavour of the month. Of the five she spent there, with him, three months were filled with memories of sandalwood, so she took that to be a favourite of his.

It was the intimate spaces, though, which Historia remembered most vividly. His bathroom and bedroom were always filled with the scent of lavender. It was that luxury soap he was so fond of - the floral, earthy notes clung to his tub and his clothes and his skin - she could recall breathing it in at the crook of his neck as he held her, naked and spent, tangled in the pristinely white sheets of his bed.

Lavender seemed like such a soft, feminine scent for a man. It was an odd contrast to his brooding masculinity, and this only made it more difficult to banish from her mind.

She left on a Monday.

It fucking rained, too.

Levi sat outside of work in his car, his perfectly pressed suit damp from the downpour, and re-read her text.

I’ve been thinking about what you said, last night. About wondering how things went so quickly from you tearing off my blouse to me moving in. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually, and I’m not sure I understand. So quickly? I don’t feel like it was that quick. And I know exactly how we got here. I remember every second. But maybe I jumped the gun a little. We were only supposed to be messing around anyway, right? Think we’re both on different pages. I left my key under the pot at the front. His x

The rain drummed against the windscreen. Levi just stared at the words on the screen, willing them to make sense. After twenty minutes, they still didn’t.

“FUCK.” He ran a hand through his hair, leaning his head back against the headrest. He was a damned idiot. Why had he said that? He hadn’t even meant anything by it. It was just an observation. Screw him and his inability to think before opening his shitty mouth. Especially during sex. Especially with her.

Amidst the sound of rain, the crappy playlist of love songs she’d made him - the one he’d rather have died than admit to actually listening to on the regular - completed the soundtrack to his heartbreak.

Last night.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Levi cupped Historia’s face, his lips pressed to the underside of her jaw. He could feel the way her nails bit into the skin of his back, surely leaving her mark as he fucked her into the mattress with abandon. He couldn’t have cared less.

Not like he had anyone else to be concerned about anymore. It was just him and her; had been for months now. Shit, he was a lucky bastard. As Erwin and Mike themselves insisted on reminding him at work on a daily basis. They were constantly in awe of him bagging a girl so much younger. He hadn’t meant it to happen, though. She was in her last year of university; worked in a coffee shop they frequented. The attraction had been immediate and mutual, if the shared glances and the way she insisted on gently touching his elbow or shoulder every time she served him, was anything to go by. She’d been the one to slip him her number, though. When he didn’t use it, she’d boldly cornered him on his way back from the men’s during his next visit, asked him why he hadn’t used it - and he’d finally thought, fuck it all to hell, grabbed her around the waist and kissed her there and then. He’d been flushed when he got back to their table, and she was red in the face, too, behind the counter. Erwin and Mike had just looked at him knowingly. Hours later, she was at his place, and he was tearing off her work blouse; buttons spraying his polished wood floor.

And now here they were. Her toothbrush in his bathroom, her ridiculous shoe collection in his closet, her work blouse hanging in his wardrobe.

The thought made him slow his thrusts. He moved his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply, before pulling back a little to look at her. Her eyes were hooded with lust, cheeks flushed, mouth parted as she gazed up at him. She was fucking perfect.

“You ever wonder,” he breathed, “how we got from me tearing off your blouse, to you living in my house? So much for messing around, huh?”

36 Days Later.

Historia covered her hand with her mouth, eyes screwed tightly closed, and sobbed against her palm.

She sat alone in the kitchen of her shared apartment with her uni friends. It’d been lucky no-one had answered their roommate add, and they’d been happy to let her move back in with them when she left him.

Her phone lay on the counter before her, unlocked, screen displaying a text from an unsaved number, received 36 days ago.

Wow. Okay then. That’s it?

How many times had she re-read that stupid text in the last 36 days? How many times had she wished, so so badly, that he’d just tried a little more? Made some attempt to stop her? Instead, his lacklustre response had only made her decision make more sense to her.

It had been her, ever since the beginning, that had pursued him. It had been all her. It had had taken a few simple words from him, during sex, of all times, to put it all into perspective.

It had been her idea that she move in with him. She was there most of the time anyway, it only made sense to make it official.

Of course he wasn’t going to protest. She was young, attractive and had always been there for him after a stressful day in the office, whether he just wanted a fuck or food and wine. But she also still had her own friends, her own life - she was hardly high maintenance. She was convenient.

When had he ever had to really try? She just offered herself on a plate to him, and he took all she had to give in his usual stoic manner - a man of few words, and it seemed, even fewer emotions. Even when she’d sent him that deeply thought out, lovingly curated playlist on Valentine’s, the response she’d gotten had been nothing short of bland and uninterested.

Nice. Thanks.

She was an idiot, alright. No-one to blame but herself. She nudged her phone away, no longer able to face the words without sobbing harder. She was so pathetic, she’d made herself delete his number, but kept the text.

Just in case.

In case what? The past got magically altered and he somehow learned to emote like a normal human being?

She needed to face facts: she was never supposed to be anything more than a bit of messing around for Levi. She’d just gotten the wrong idea, and now she was paying for her foolishness.

Eyes dried enough to apply some mascara, work blouse buttoned and jacket shrugged on, Historia finally dragged herself out of the door for her shift at the coffee shop.

Even the idea of work still hurt. Levi and his colleagues had stopped coming to their place. Made sense that he wouldn’t want the hassle of facing her. There were plenty of decent places to get a cup of black tea and two coffees in the city. The place where she worked wasn’t special anymore. It was an inconvenience.

On the way in, she passed by a cute little cosmetics boutique place that had opened up. A few items caught her eye in the window. She checked the time. She was early. Maybe it was time to cheer herself up. She shoved the door open, deciding she’d treat herself to a new eyeshadow palette, or maybe some waterproof mascara, at least.

She was at the checkout when a stack of luxury soaps caught her eye on the counter.

Rose, Lily of the Valley, Lime & Bergamot …

And Lavender.

She bit the inside of her cheek, and tossed one into her basket.

36 damn days. She needed to get a grip of herself.

36 days.

36 days of fucking agony.

Levi drummed his fingers lightly on the desktop, staring at the numbers displaying on his screen. He couldn’t focus.

Again.

He hadn’t been able to focus properly since that afternoon in the parking lot. When he’d sent her that shit text. Why, why, why was he so absolutely dire with words? His mind had come up blank. He hadn’t a clue what to say to her. So instead, he’d pretty much said fuck all.

What a slap in the face that must have been for her.

Ironic how, since then, the words wouldn’t stop coming, in his head. Constantly. Reasons she should’ve stayed, all the things he’d hope for them, all the ways she was unlike anyone he’d ever been with before.

He wasn’t sure what prompted it, but finally, on day 36 of Historia Reiss’s disappearance from his life, Levi snapped.

He was going to get some tea.

“Back in a bit,” he threw at Mike across the office, shrugging on his jacket. His earphones were popped in, and when he emerged out onto the busy street, he took out his phone and hit play on what had become his go-to playlist.

Who knew there’d been such a massive Taylor Swift fan lying dormant inside him all these years.

It was a quiet, slow afternoon.

Historia was wiping down the countertop when the bell above the door chimed.

She couldn’t bring herself to look up, but at least she could manage a semi-enthusiastic greeting today.

“Hi, what can I get you.”

“Black tea, please.”

She looked up then.

She was as radiant as ever, despite the way her eyes were a little puffy and red.

Shit. Had she been crying?

Levi’s heart drummed as he approached the counter, his usual order falling from his mouth on autopilot.

When she looked up at him with those bold, blue eyes of hers, it stopped him in his tracks.

He yanked out his earphones, shoving them into his pocket. When she didn’t speak, he forced a word to come.

“Hey.”

She didn’t reply. She just set to making his damn tea without a word. He felt like an utter dick, just stood there, as she aggressively tossed a teabag into a cup and flicked on the hot water machine.

Eventually, she threw him a curt comment. “I can bring it over.”

He clenched his jaw. “Okay if I drink it here?”

Getting angry was the only way to stop herself from breaking down, here and now, in the middle of the damn coffee shop.

The sight of him had knocked the breath from her. But now, all she felt was the same old hurt. Why was he here? What was he trying to prove? That he’d moved on completely and wasn’t even affected by the sight of her anymore?

Well, good for him.

“Historia! I found a bag of stuff in the stockroom - waterproof mascara and some fancy lavender soap. This yours?”

Historia’s gaze snapped to her manager, who was now at the other end of the counter, holding Historia’s bag of cosmetics aloft, brow arched.

Levi was staring at it, too.

Historia felt herself turn crimson. “Yeah. Sorry; must have left it in there by accident.”

Her manager shrugged, disappearing back into the room to continue her work. “I’ll put it to one side for you,” she called through the doorway.

Levi turned back to her. “I never knew you were a fan of Lavender?”

She thrust his cup of black tea at him. “Funnily enough, you never did strike me as the type, either.”

He looked down at the cup, then back at her. He seemed like he was holding something in. Something causing him pain.

She turned away.

“Historia … I think you misunderstood me. I fucked up.”

Historia paused, heart missing a beat at his words. She made herself look back over her shoulder at him.

He grimaced, took a slow sip of his tea, and then set it down carefully, eyes never leaving hers. He always did have such an intense, arresting gaze.

“Just listen, for a minute?”

She hesitated, finally allowing herself a nod; so small it could have almost been imperceptible.

“I …” He drew a breath in, as though steeling himself. “I never realised how smart, funny and brilliant you were when all this started. At the beginning, it was just messing around, sure. But then when you left your toothbrush … I’ve never felt so fucking ecstatic to see a shitty little piece of plastic sitting in my bathroom, as pathetic as that might sound. The work blouse I ruined that first night - the one you thought I tossed out; well, I didn’t. I sewed every single one of those bastard buttons back on, but I never gave it back to you cause you’d probably think I was an idiot. I actually enjoy all those sappy songs you used to play around the house. It’s so damn quiet since you left. The playlist you sent me wasn’t just nice; it was perfect. I used to and still do listen to it every day in work like a complete fucking sap. I should have told you.”

Historia felt her breath catch as his garbled word vomit sank in. His ears were pink now as he looked at her.

“I fucked up, Historia. I miss you …”

Levi felt like he’d just taken the biggest shit of his life, so satisfying was it to just purge himself of all the thoughts and feelings surrounding her that he’d had for the past month and five days since she’d left. Fuck it; if she hated him still, that was fine. At least she knew now.

At least he’d admitted to her aloud just how bad he had it for her. What she did with that information was totally up to her. The ball was in her court.

She paused for a moment, eyes wide as she looked at him. And then she turned back away from him.

Shit. She turned back away from him.

“I didn’t buy that soap because I like lavender. I bought it because I missed the smell of you.”

He didn’t miss the way her voice cracked with the last words. It made his chest tight.

She missed him, too?

She fucking missed him, too. He was a damn idiot. Why hadn’t he told her all this sooner?

He itched to wrap his arms around her. To never let her out of his sight again. To tell her he was all hers.

He said her name. She turned back around properly.

“Come home, please. I want to listen to that damn sappy playlist together.”

“Levi …” Her voice was small when she answered, her eyes quite clearly glassy. But then her mouth twitched upwards at the corners. “Do you really listen to it in work? Every day? Even the Taylor Swift stuff?”

Levi grit his teeth, doing his best not to roll his eyes at his own embarrassment. “Yeah. All of it.”

She placed her hand on the countertop. “Maybe …” It slid towards his hesitantly. “I guess … we could give it another listen, together. If you’re sure you’re past … just messing about.”

He covered it with his own without hesitation. He was never gonna hesitate with her again. Ever. “Yeah. Surest I’ve ever felt about anything in my life.”

Historia got off work early that day. Levi called in a favour from Mike.

They went back to his place.

No. They went back to their place.

Historia’s bar of lavender soap was set on the rim of Levi’s tub. They ran a bath. They kissed. A lot.

And as they lay in the sweet-scented bubbles together, they listened to their playlist.

Together.

‘His & Levi: The Story of Us.’

“Not gonna lie though,” Levi whispered in her ear, his voice deadpan. “That title is cheesy as fuck.”

Historia whacked his bare arm. “Shut up.”

Fin.

#rhweek2021 #rhweekfree4all #rivahisu #omg it got long #I genuinely do suck at one shots #tried to include our three staples:#coffee shop aus #Taylor Swift songs #hopeless pining #rivahisu au

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