#'ah its so obvious - both faiths are going to end up being a little bit wrong and a little bit right'

[themoonking]

finally finished the priory of the orange tree after putting it off for like a year, and putting aside the fact that it's insanely boring, way too long, and the romance is lackluster, it certainly was a choice to, in a book at least in part about finding common ground and coming together, basically go "religion a is correct and good and its believers can continue on their merry lives, but religion b is a 100% incorrect wrong bad lie founded by a wrong bad misogynistic lying liar, and everyone who believes in it should convert and in fact we're going to end the book by heavily implying that the recently-converted queen is going to slowly but surely pressure the entire country to convert because their faith is wrong and bad". like that was certainly a decision that samantha shannon made.

#idk i don't love an entire religion being painted as objectively inherently bad and wrong #especially since none of the six virtue's actual teachings are that bad like #and also esp since the only other thing we learn about galian berethnet is that he was fucking r/ped by his own mother #and was so distraught upon learning this that he killed himself #the fact that aside from that its just like 'he was a lying liar who lies and hated women' just didn't sit right with me... #the priory of the orange tree #priory of the orange tree #the roots of chaos #anti booktok #samantha shannon #like the entire time before this was revealed i was like #'ah its so obvious - both faiths are going to end up being a little bit wrong and a little bit right' #'of course it will be revealed that cleolind and galian actually worked together to defeat the nameless one' #'and learning this will really press into the characters that they themselves need to work together to defeat him again' #but instead like???? #and like even with the kalyba stuff it would have been so easy you can say like: #cleolind and galian worked together but kalyba (canonically posessive and jealous and willing to do horrible things to keep galian w/ her) #uses her magic to make cleolind believe that galian betrayed her which she then goes and tells her priory #+ in an effort to keep as low a profile as possible for herself while disguised as cleolind she makes galian believe that he did everything #and when her disguise falls he's so distraught that he kills himself and so the only one who knows the truth is kalyba #who certainly has no motivation to reveal the truth

[thestarrynightslover]

He has a thing for the mice

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,514

Warnings: Slight angst.

Summary: (y/n) works as a tech consultant at Intelligence and, even though the team guarantees her that she is one of them, Jay doesn’t seem to agree with that.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So… I finally managed to finish a WIP!! But I do have faith that it will be better from now on. Thanks for all the mind-blowing support, and feedback is appreciated, as usual! 💕

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

It had been six months since you first started working with the Intelligence Unit 𑁋 in the CPD 𑁋, as a tech consultant. At first, it was obvious that you weren’t very welcome there. All the officers just kept side-eyeing you all day long. Every single day. It was like they were expecting some big betrayal from you at any given moment and simply couldn’t risk sleeping with one eye open.

As time passed, though, they started warming up to you. And you, to them. You began to understand that, them being such a tight group, they had a hard time trusting outsiders. Also, that they’d already lost a handful of team members, for one reason or another, so it was plausible that they wouldn’t wanna get attached to someone new right away. And, you’d learnt that the last person who had that job, long before you even considered moving to Chicago, was detective Halstead’s best friend, who had gone back to risking his life for the army overseas.

That’s also how you accepted that, if he was ever going to warm up to you 𑁋 like the others had 𑁋, he’d do it on his own time. No point in pressuring him. Even though sometimes you really wanted to do so, you wanted him to like you. But not just because you two worked together and that would make for a good environment. You wanted him to like you because he was so kind. Caring. Funny. Smart. Cute. And you wanted that kind of guy to like you the same way you were realizing you liked him.

But, if you were being reasonable, it wasn’t about to happen any time soon. Nor should it happen, really. Over that half-year that had passed, you’d also learnt that that job was actually pretty cool. You were using your abilities for something truly good, for once. So, if Jay Halstead ever came to like you the same way you liked him… Whatever the two of you decided to do with that information could really jeopardize your spot there.

Not that you were a cop, you knew you weren’t. But, on your very first day, the sergeant had made it pretty clear that his rules, all of them, applied to you just as much as they did to everyone else.

What started to threaten that certainty you had was the way the detective talked to you on that morning: “Hey, uh, (y/n),” he started saying while walking over to your desk, “could you try and see if you can get any hidden information on our suspect? You know, that little magic you work out?” Jay finished his question with an amused look on his face: raised brows, twinkling eyes, a small smile on his lips. As cute as he looked, that whole behavior made you very confused. Was Jay Halstead really being friendly with you? That mere possibility was enough to send your mind into a spiral of thoughts, which made the detective start calling out for you. “(y/n)?” He questioned, already panicking a little, afraid that you were ignoring him on purpose. Of course, that didn’t make any sense but he always got super nervous when you were around, which was why he tried to keep you at a safe distance. “(y/n)?”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t believe yourself at that moment. What were you? A teenager? “I’m so so sorry, detective! I just, uh… Got a little distracted. Could y- you repeat?” You weren’t looking in a mirror then but you knew for a fact that you were blushing. Hard.

“Ah, no worries. And please, call me Jay.” He told you, making your heartbeat race even faster. “Uh, I asked you if you could get any hidden information on our suspect? You know, that stuff us, cops, usually let slide…”

“Ah, right! Yeah, yeah! Sure, thing, detec- Jay.” You said, making him chuckle a little bit. So cute. You motioned towards the other monitor, to do what you were asked, but suddenly stopped yourself as you felt eyes on you. “Can I, uh, help you with anything else?” You asked Jay, who was just standing there staring at you.

“Oh! No, no! Thanks!” He quickly answered, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not he should keep talking. "It's just that you, um, you reminded me of Mouse a little bit."

"Um… Is that your friend? The one who used to work here?" You shyly ask, not knowing if it was a good idea to pry like that.

"Yeah! That's right. So, I assume someone here has told you about him?"

"Yes, they mentioned a few things. Said he was great. Now I'm just… Trying to live up to the standard." You confessed, suddenly remembering that that was Jay's best friend you were talking about. So, in order to correct your previous statement, you started rambling and ended up only burying yourself deeper: "I mean, not live up as in replace him or anything. More like be as good as. For the team. You know because we need to-"

"Hey, hey," he called out, laughing and raising his hands in front of his chest. "Relax. It's okay. I understood what you were trying to say. Besides, as a replacement to Mouse, you’re not bad at all.” The detective finished his reassurance with a wink, leaving an astonished version of you behind.

It was only much later on that day that you decided to just shrug off any mixed signals you might’ve been exchanging with Jay. Adam and the ladies had made it clear that you were all invited for a mandatory night out at Molly’s. Which meant you and the group were going there straight from the district, you being absolutely determined to drink your feelings 𑁋 and your day, really 𑁋 away. So that’s what you did and, considering that you didn’t have too much alcohol resistance… It was safe to say that things started to get pretty blurry pretty fast. 

Before you could stop yourself, you were dancing and chatting with every guy that showed up in front of you and wasn’t a certain good-looking detective. All of which wasn’t going by unnoticed on Jay’s end. He could tell you were avoiding him, he just had no idea why. It seemed to him like you two could get along fine 𑁋 not that he didn’t want it to be more than just fine 𑁋, he wanted a lot more than that but, after all he’d been through, he simply wasn’t sure he should make a move. And now… He really wasn’t sure.

That was until he spotted you struggling with a guy that seemed to be getting a little too handsy for your comfort. It was beginning to cause a scene but most of the familiar crowd was either gone or too distracted to help you.

“Hey, do we have a problem here, buddy?” You jumped a little as you felt Jay’s warm hand in the small of your back. He had a smug smirk on his face and his voice was filled with condescendence as he eyed up the guy you’d been trying to get rid of for the past minutes.

“Uh… Who the hell are you?”

“None of your business. Now, why don’t you just walk away from her, huh?”

“Well, I don’t see how this is any of your business.” The guy replied, maintaining his asshole stance.

“Well, the minute you started sexually harassing this woman you made it my business,” Jay said, lifting the side of his shirt just enough so that the dickhead could see his badge.

“Wow- relax, man! That’s not what was happening here! Besides she didn’t even accuse me of any-”

“Yeah? So, if you wanna keep it that way, I suggest you start walking away.” Hearing that, the guy just stood there, as if not believing the detective. “Now.” And that was the cue the idiot finally took to leave you alone.

“Thank you, Jay. Really.” You started saying after you turned to face him. “But you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve handled it.” You didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, it was just the truth.

“Oh, you could have? Because, from where I was standing, you were in trouble.”

“In trouble?” You ask him in disbelief. “I wasn’t in trouble. Just because I’m not a cop, doesn’t mean that I can’t defend myself, detective.” Hearing that, he seemed to realize what he’d just said.

“I- I’m sorry.” His eyes were so filled with worry at that moment that you couldn’t keep looking directly at him. But he just searched for your eyes until you gave in. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I really am. I didn’t mean that, I don’t think that. At all! I just-”

“You just wanted to help.” You finished his sentence whilst stifling a yawn with the back of your hand. “I get it, Jay. I do, don’t worry. I’m just really tired now. Think I’mma head home.”

“Right.” He muttered, still concerned about how you were leaving things with each other. “So, how about I take you home, hum?” He offered with a peace-making grin on his face, which you eyed suspiciously. “And all I’m really offering here is a cab paid for, I promise! Besides, I think I should get going too, so if we split… You know, at this time o' night, it's cheaper and safer. For both of us.” You were so tired at the moment that there didn’t seem to be any energy left in your body for bickering over a stupid cab.  

"Okay, then, let's split the cab." You finally agree, making his smile grow even bigger. So you two make your way outside, where you get on the first available cab you can find. Jay, obviously, making you give the driver your address for the first stop. Which you weren’t so reluctant in agreeing with, to tell the truth. But you hadn’t imagined that, on the way to your apartment, you’d end up falling asleep with your head on the detective’s shoulder, him caressing your hair. 

After a few minutes in the car, you were completely knocked out, which made him take it upon himself to struggle with you and your purse to make sure you got safely carried inside your house. Being the smart, resourceful person he is, Jay manages to pay the driver, get you both inside and gently put you in bed. The only thing was that, at that point, he was so tired that, somehow, he ended up climbing in there and falling asleep by your side.

The next morning, when you wake up, you turn your back to meet Jay's gorgeous sleepy face and, thinking that you were just in a very good dream, you start kissing him, who responds by kissing you back. Until you realize that it is actually happening.

"Wait a second, are you real?" You ask him, already feeling the embarrassment reach your cheeks.

"Uh, yeah, I think so? I mean, last time I checked..." Hearing that, you can’t help but start to panic a little. Watching you looking down at your fully clothed bodies and just becoming more confused, Jay decided to explain: "Oh, no! Don't worry about it! Nothing happened between us, until now anyway..." Seeing your horrified face, he added: "I just brought you home but, since you fell asleep in the cab, I brought you inside. And I guess I must've been so beat that I ended up falling asleep here, too. But I should have found a way to go home, I'm sorry." He finished the story, shooting you an apologetic look.

"No, no, that's okay... You were helping me and it was super late. It was only fair that you'd stay here. I'm the one who's sorry about, um, kissing you. I guess... I just thought that I was still dreaming." The second the words leave your mouth, you regret it, as he just smirks at you, eyes twinkling.

"So, you dream about me a lot, do ya?"

"No, I don't. That is not what I said. That is not what I said at all."

"No?" He playfully asks you, who quickly gets out of the bed. "Okay, maybe not... But it was implied."

"No, it wasn't." You say, not missing how he was crawling on the bed, towards where you were standing up.

"It was so implied." He continued teasing, already out of the bed and walking in your direction.

"That's- that's not even a thing. So implied." You ramble a little, feeling your body press against your bedroom wall because of all your walking backwards to get away from him.

"You know what? That doesn't really matter. Because," he was so close to you, and you didn't have any more room for an escape. Was he always that hot? The answer was an emphatic yes and you knew it. You'd spent so much time thinking about what those strong arms could do to you... "It was clearly implied." And that's when he kisses you. Roughly. Sweetly. Passionately. All in once. How was that even possible? There was a reason why you didn't want him to kiss you, you knew there was. But how could you remember it, when all you could think was: oh my God, oh my God, oh my God?

"No, Jay-" You managed to breathe out, his mouth pressing hot, wet, kisses to your neck. "We can't do this." You said a bit more firmly, pushing him from you a little.

"Why not? Is it because we work together? If it is, you should know that a lot of people have done it before. Besides, you're not a cop. So our relationship wouldn't put each other's lives in any danger." You kept your eyes on the floor, as you couldn't bring yourself to look at him just yet. But, hearing him say that... 'Our relationship'... Made you smile and look up at him. "Just- just give me a chance, that's all I'm asking for. One chance to prove to you that, not only we can do this, but, also, that we should do this.

"Okay... One chance." He kisses you right on the spot, as soon as you say that. "Okay! That was not what I meant when I said I’d give you a chance!"

"Of course not! Besides, that's definitely not how I'm using my chance. I'll present my plan to conquer you tomorrow night, at eight o'clock."

"Oh, so you're already willing to decide things for me? Just like that?" His smile was beaming so brightly at the moment, that it could have blinded you.

"Yeah, just like that. Cause I know we’ll have plenty of time for you to be the boss of me." Jay states, not even giving you any time to giggle, as he starts kissing you again. Only pausing to say: "But, for now..." And you can't even pretend to want him to stop kissing you anymore.

#jay halstead x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #self insert #imagines #one shot #one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #chicago pd #jay halstead #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd one shot #fluff #jay halstead one shot #jay halstead x you #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead fluff

[babygirldennis]

This shit is fake bby!!!

Here she is.. My masterpost of all the dumb, illogical bits of info contained within these s15 “leaks” that make me fairly confident they are complete bullshit. It also includes my little tinhat theories that have absolutely no evidence.

I will be putting it all under a Readmore in case you don't want to risk it or if you simply Do Not Care

First up, I'd like to point out that these call sheets repeatedly give very detailed backstories to characters that have few lines which conveniently paints a picture of each episode's plot. And I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong, but after looking at other similar casting calls, they only ever include the demographic and necessary skills.

Basically who in their right mind would write up casting calls that give away so many spoilers? Seems like that could cause and issue if they were leaked lol. But anyway that's my 1st point. But onto the actual content

So the conceit of this episode as a whole is that during the pandemic, the gang "gamed the system" and received three (3!) Loans to start businesses that went bankrupt. One of these businesses is implied to be the one started by dee and charlie who end up selling to Qanon shaman. Already this is so impossible baby.

1. We've already seen the gang try to get a loan and it didn't work. They don't have good ideas. Ur telling me, they managed to finagle 3 separate loans for 3 separate business ideas from an actual bank?

2. Maybe I just have bad reading comprehension but how does one have a business that is both fictitious and bankrupt?

3. If the customer is supposed to be Qanon shaman, an actual real life guy, why are the only descriptors white and male? They say he's shirtless so are they going to paint on all of the tattoos he has? And if so, doesn't that kind of ruin the dramatic reveal when charlie "throws in" the viking helmet? Why would he do that anyways? Sus.

Moving on

Alright this episode would fucking blow for obvious reasons but im going to refrain from looking at this through my gay dennis thruther lens because im biased.

Purely from a narrative standpoint, a woman hasn't been shown to be interested in dennis in nearly 5 years during the wade boggs episode. Ever since, every single woman he approaches has been actively creeped out by him. And now I'm supposed to believe that 3 "smart, passionate woman" (In Their Twenties!!!!!!) agreed to go on a date with him? And Anna even slept with him! Just because he what? Agreed with her? I'm not buyin it.

Plus the concept of this scenario lacks any potential for comedy. When iasip gets political, they always discuss a very specific topic using hyperbolic situations and flawed metaphors. If this is supposed to be a political episode, what ultimately lukewarm point would rob be trying to make here? So far we know they're ranting about

The patriarchy

Privilege

Socialism

No more personal responsibility(?)

The... nature of power in society(??)

How on earth would an episode like get approved? This shit sounds like a Ted talk. It sounds like it was written specifically to sound like a political episode so boring and pointless it would generate outrage and mile long essay posts from Tumblr users and reddit users alike. Almost like this one lol.

On a completely unrelated note, do not try and convince me that Frank "casual cock ring wearer" Reynolds is unable to perform.

Jeez this is getting out of hand fast. Let's move on

Ok now we're starting to getting into the Ireland of it all. Let me go on a bit of a tangent here about all this.. Now I thinq there are just 3 possibilities. Either this is all a publicity stunt and there is some truth to the Ireland rumors, the entire thing could be bogus from some weirdo fan (ps, if a fan did write this I want you to know I fucking hate you. You did this to me), or it is a publicity stunt but Ireland is just more bullshit.

I am going to assume it was a publicity stunt, otherwise I just wasted my entire evening and I can't have that kind of mentality rn. Additionally, I'm Going to tinhat here for a second and say that the Ireland rumors are true, but the details are different.

I say this because if they were going to do filming in Ireland, they probably figured that that information would be impossible to hide. In essence, my completely unfounded hypothesis is that this leak was their fucked up little way of controlling the situation while simultaneously messing with us.

Ok tangent is over, returning to the casting calls. From the looks of it, dee starts a "scam" acting class and has some very devoted students (Note that Tony was also the name of the porn shop owner. Seems weird!) Presumably after the gang replaces her with a monkey as the title suggests.

Honestly, there isn't too much here that's a red flag to me... seems like a nice little dee-centric episode that is the link to the Dublin angle. Assuming I am At All right, this could be a genuine plotline for Dee. However, the monkey could be a red herring and there could be a whole different side plot with the guys. who's to say. Next one!

Ah yes this is the dennis we all know and despise.. no red flags for me here really, I'm also running out of steam because idk if it shows, but I am majorly sleep deprived atm. Anyway I'm going to the next one

Okay this is where things start getting weird again ough a migraine just hit, anyway back to my earlier point about how casting calls would never contains major spoilers bc the people who see these wont be under any kind of NDA..

These ones reveal that bonnie dies. Again, that info wouldn't be in a casting call.

But also they suggest charlie has a irish penpal named Shelley who is his biological father. First off charlie is illiterate, although as pointed out by @undeadbreeze shelley could also be communicating in symbols. However, this scenario is still unbelievable to me for a couple reasons:

1. Bonnie's last name is Kelly obviously, and we know it's her maiden name because Jack's last name is also Kelly. But Shelley's last name is... also Kelly? In the context of this big ol hoax, it feels like it was written to show that look! his last name is the same as charlie's! That's how you know that's his dad! But It would be way too big of a coincidence if charlie's dad happened to have the same last name bonnie.

And 2. There's the whole mystery of charlie's long-lost sister from 'charlie got molested' but never any mention of a brother which according to this, shelley has been pretending to be his brother for years. And we all know how much rcg loves their continuity, it seems uncharacteristically lazy to just tack this on without any prior buildup.

And finally let me talk about mac for a second and specifically the line in gus's summary "both are gay men who are attracted to the priesthood for all the wrong reasons"

Iasip has commented on pedophilia in the priesthood many times in the past which leads me to believe that they are implying that mac is a pedophile? Please let me know if I completely misread the implications of that statement, but if not, then that is completely insane and one of the biggest indictators that this is fake. Mac is awful, just like everyone in the gang but he is definitely not a pedophile.

However even if i did completely misread that, it's still proof this is fake.. For all his faults, Rob put a surprising amount of care and effort into mac's coming-out. It hasn't been perfect, but Mfhp in particular firmly established that mac's faith is integral to his identity so Its unlikely that rob would throw all of that away for a cheap shot at priests.

Ok my brain is irradiated sludge at this point, but in conclusion. I hope that 1. I'm right, at least about it being fake (Otherwise damb that'll be so humiliating for me) And 2. This eases ur fears a bit. I don't want to lose all faith in future seasons bc I love iasip and miss the gang. If you read this far youre insane but I literally love you so goddamn much because I spent so so long tapping this out on my silly little phone

Please feel free to add on or message me your thoughts and opinions I need to know I'm not the only one who uhhh went a bit insane. And finally: whoever made these is a cunt. Mwah.

#iasip #s15 spoilers #oy vey..... #they could also be written by a reddit fan who is too much of a pussy to just write fanfic but that seems kinda unlikely? #cause 1. itll be disproven so everyone will know u just... wrote weird fanfic #and 2. there are a lot of little details that are so random that even if this is a fan just messing with people.... why put in so much effo #wahtever im pressing post #actually tho what gge fuck is that priest line supposed to imply #i guess for mac it could be talking about his view that god smites enemies and u must fear him blah blah #i jus don't know what it was supposed to imply about gus!!! #bc they describe gus like he is fat mac with healthy views on the bible which :] #then that last line just gives me whiplash what does that mean!!

[osakaso5]

La Danse Macabre

Episode 40-2: Unheard Voices, Delivered Voices

Chapter Index

Three Years Later

Cura: Uuuugh!!!

Cura: Damn, I'm tired! These fights just won't end.

Rebellion Fighter: C'mon, Cura, there's no need to get mad.

Cura: I know. I just wish we had more people around here.

Cura: Nerve's been acting real suspicious lately. I have no idea what they're planning.

[Door opens]

Reue: Yawn... Now that was a good nap.

Cura: ........

Reue: Lately, I've been feeling just awful right before and after waking up. Maybe my age is starting to get the best of me.

Rebellion Fighter: G-good morning, sir.

Reue: Mornin'.

Cura: You DO realize that you're technically our second highest ranking member?

Reue: Well, if it isn't Mr. Top Dog. Hard at work as always, I see.

Cura: You should give working a chance yourself, Reue.

Reue: No thanks~. Libel promised me a job that requires as little effort as possible.

Cura: Ugh... You mean the asshole who went and died, right after making promises he didn't have to keep..?

Reue: Hahaha, you're such a jokester.

Rebellion Fighter: Cura! The transportation team from District 4 has run into a Unity Order patrol! They're requesting immediate backup!

Cura: What, seriously? Let's get 'em on the monitor.

Cura: This looks bad... Do we have any free squads nearby..?

Reue: Ah, I think we've got it covered.

Cura: Huh?

Reue: I thought this might happen, so I already sent over a certain someone. 

- - - -

Unity Order Troop: For the Church of Nerve... For Master Misericorde...

Rebellion Fighter: Crap... They've got us surrounded...

Unity Order Troop: For the Church of Nerve... For Master Misericorde...

Rebellion Fighter: I've sent an emergency signal to the base! But...

Rebellion Fighter: I don't think we're gonna make it...

Leiden: Hold up!!!

Rebellion Fighters: ......!?

Leiden: I came to save your asses!

Rebellion Fighter: ...Leiden!

Unity Order Troop: That's...

Unity Order Troop: One of the traitors...

Leiden: Hmm.

Leiden: ...Traitor, huh? Sure, I guess I am...

Leiden: And that's just fine by me. I've really thought this through, even with my empty head.

Unity Order Troop: Stay on guard...

Unity Order Troop: We all strike at the same time..! For the Church of Nerve!

Leiden: Yeah, come at me! I fight for myself!

Leiden: Because I'm Rebellion's Leiden!

Leiden: Don't you forget that!!!

- - - -

Cura: Oh, Leiden's going there. That's a relief...

Reue: Isn't it?

Cura: Fine, I guess you helped. ...But could you at least let me know  when you send out more troops?

Reue: Hahaha. When I notice an oversight in your orders, I can't help but want to fix it.

Cura: You sly old man...

Reue: Come to think of it, it's been around three years since Eternea died and Misericorde took over as the ruler of the church.

Reue: And because of Misericorde, the Unity Order is even more deeply tied to the church now.

Reue: Eternea must've been holding the church back.

Reue: The current Ark follows Misericorde's orders like a hive mind.

Reue: It'll be tough to bring them down. They've never been quite this fanatical before.

Cura: Yeah, they may not have a Celestial right now, but there's still an obvious gap between our technology and theirs.

Cura: Geez... It's gonna be a while before we overthrow them...

Reue: But we'll do it anyway, won't we? Create a world without Celestials.

Cura: Yep, that's what Libel would've wanted. And I decided to stick by him when we were both kids.

Reue: ...You've been doing well. The Surface's forces are concentrated around Rebellion more and more these days.

Reue: We've gotten new members too, haven't we? I'd say you've achieved more than plenty, for such a young man.

Cura: This much is nothing. I'm not nearly as charismatic as our old leader.

Reue: You're too humble. The world is already changing, and I'm sure it's for the better.

Cura: I sure hope so. Especially for all those of us who died for this change.

Horca: Hey... it's not healthy to let yourself be tied down by dead people. We're here for the living.

Reue: Oh, you came to visit, Mr. Merchant?

Cura: Done with your negotiations?

Horca: Yep, thanks so much. I'll be on my way now.

Cura: You're not ripping us off, are you?

Horca: ...Maybe I am, maybe not. Have a little faith in your subordinates, will you.

Cura: Well, for an old enemy, you sure have been a reliable business partner.

Reue: Right. I hear you even trade with Nerve these days.

Horca: I don't give a damn about the past. I'm just doing whatever I can to live a fun, free life.

Horca: I don't wanna hold myself back. That's not why I was born into this world, nor is it why I've survived this far.

Cura: ...I guess that's the life for you, then.

Horca: You guys have nothing to worry about. My motto is to sell everything at the same price, no matter who's buying.

Horca: I'm not making favors to any side. If I did, my old friends would just laugh at me.

Horca: ...I guess I'm tied down by the dead in my own way, too.

Cura: ...Nah. Neither of us are being tied down.

Cura: I'm doing this for Libel and Fuga because I want to.

Horca: ...That so. Well, either way, I’m  looking forward to this new world of yours.

Horca: Make sure that it’s a place  where even people like my old crew  can live.

Reue: ...Haha. Everyone's put their expectations on you.

Cura: What a pain. It's not like I asked for any of this.

Reue: It's the duty of those of us who lived.

Cura: ........

Cura: Oh, it's almost time. ...Get ready, people.

Reue: Oh, it is? I've been waiting for this.

Cura: Yeah, you better have. The kid's our ray of hope.

 - - - -

Qual: Arme. It's almost time. Are you good to go?

Arme: Yes, Qual. I'm ready.

Qual: ...You're not lonely? You haven't been around other people for quite the while now.

Arme: Hm? I'm fine. I have you... And Kabane and the others come see me every now and then.

Arme: Hmm, though I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel even a little bit lonely...

Arme: Cura and his troops are fighting their own fight, and I'm fighting mine.

Qual: I see...

Arme: For as long as I live, a new Celestial can't be born.

Arme: That grants Rebellion more than enough time to win us the world Libel longed for.

Qual: You've grown so strong.

Arme: Strong...

Arme: Qual, listen to me. I've decided something.

Arme: I want to help everyone live their lives.

Arme: However, I can't reach out to or help them in person.

Arme: Still, there may be those who would gain courage from me, even from afar.

Qual: ...Right, living on the Surface has made one thing very clear to me. Those who live in this world need something to believe in.  

Qual: The Surface is free. And that's why its people are afraid. They're anxious about the path they've chosen.

Qual: We could all use something to light up that path.

Arme: Right...

Arme: Libel said I'd bring everyone hope.

Qual: Yes, he did...

Arme: I was the Celestial. The symbol of everyone's faith. But no one saw me for who I truly am.

Arme: ...The truth is, I'm completely  useless. I'm weak, cowardly, naive,  and not very good at reading social  situations, or so I’ve been told. 

Arme: Which is why I'm not fit to lead a religion. I'm not some perfect idol.

Arme: I need others to help me. I need others to keep me from feeling down.

Arme: And in turn, I'll do whatever I can for them.

Arme: Anything to help others live their life to the fullest.

Arme: I want to be the light that shines upon this world.

[Beep]

Cura: Arme, you ready? I'm jacking into the Surface's radio signal. We’re  counting on you, as usual...

Arme: Yes, I'm ready as can be.

Cura: People were pretty suspicious about this at first, but you've gained kind of a fanbase as of late.

Arme: Ooh, really!?

Arme: Actually, I was thinking of learning how to sing and dance.

Cura: Hahaha, sounds good to me. I'm sure everyone will love it.

Cura: ...Just do your best, kid. And...

Cura: Make sure you enjoy this more than anyone else, alright?

Arme: Yes, I will! I'll have so much fun! 

- - - -

Horca: ...Doing it because you want to, huh.

Horca: Ugh, Cura's starting to rub off on me. And so, here I am... Visiting a grave.

Horca: ...It's my first time coming here since I left.

Horca: The Underworld... It really isn't a big deal at all. Just a huge, dumb hole.

Horca: ........

Horca: Ah. Vida, Placer. Is it okay if I just... pretend you're in there?

Horca: I...

Horca: Wanted to apologize. For not coming here sooner.

Horca: All I ever did was make fun of you for being bound to the dead.

Horca: ...But I was wrong. It's not a bad thing that I keep you guys in my memories.

Horca: It's not wrong of me to do something I think would make you happy.

Horca: ...Then again, I can't hear the dead.

Horca: You guys won't mind if I just assume you're happy that I'm still alive, will you?

Horca: ........

Horca: ...Well, you'd better not.

Horca: One of the perks to being alive is I get to pretend your souls in the afterlife agree with everything I do.

Horca: Hah... And if that's a problem, you'll just have to speak up.

[Bzzt]

Arme: Ah, ah.

Horca: Uagh!?

Horca: That scared the crap out of me... I really thought the dead were gonna talk for a second...

Horca: Huh? There's something coming from my transmitter..? Who is that..?

Arme: Cura? Can they hear me yet?

Horca: Whuh? 

- - - -

Arme: Ah, ah. Testing, testing.

Konoe: Oh, I've got a signal! It's starting, Master Kuon!

Kuon: Ah, how exciting.

Konoe: Kabane! Come over and listen with us!

Kabane: ...No. I can hear just fine from where I am.

Konoe: Darn!

Konoe: He's still acting distant... I thought you finally made up, after all these years?

Kuon: Ahaha. Kabane still has some trouble being around me.

Kuon: ...But he can take his time changing. We have an eternity ahead of us, after all. 

- - - -

Arme: Ahem.

Arme: All of you living your lives on the Surface, can you hear me?

Arme: My name is Arme.

Arme: Today, well...

Arme: Why don't I tell you how I met a dear friend, who changed my life? 

The End.

#idolish7 #la danse macabre #translation #event story

[my-writings-and-musings]

I have another lovely commission to share with you all! An awesome person wanted a super cute bit of interaction between Springload and Quillfire, so here it is!

Quillfire tried to keep the frown on his face from appearing too off putting as he left the base behind, keeping pace with Springload but ensuring the two of them had considerable personal space at the same time. To the benefit of their mission Earth's forests offered ample cover all around, ensuring neither had anything to fear in regards to detection. Though, to the anarchist, potential discovery was the least of his concerns. His last parting with the other mech had been under less than amicable terms, so he was fully anticipating a very unpleasant mission. In fact, he wouldn't have been surprised to learn Springload was planning to ditch him at the nearest opportunity. Such a prediction seemed more likely than not considering how the amphibicon had a tendency towards the dramatic. Was he going to be accused of defying invisible spirits, or sullying important signals from some great deity before he was exposed to corrosive attacks? It all seemed equally probable...

Frowning a little harder, he watched Springload hop ahead of him and wondered if this mission would end in failure like the last. They'd been up against considerable odds, and things weren looking much better. Steeljaw had been very insistent on them teaming up, so he had a bit of hope this would go well, but-

Crossing his arms, he huffed quietly to himself as he abandoned the train of thought, plodding along behind his chosen partner all the while. Why should he be the one to mend things? More importantly, why did he want to? There were a million other activities he could be doing at the moment, all of them more conducive to speeding up a revolution than this! Just imagining all the injustice on this backwards planet made his quills twitch with unease. Oh, how he longed to tear down the tyranny that was evident around every corner-

"Can you move more swiftly?" Springload barked back at him unexpectedly, hopping along through the forest at a pace few could match with a mere walk. Admittedly though, Quillfire was lagging behind as he mused over his unhappy thoughts. The amphibicon fixed him with an impatient glare. "The sooner this mission is completed, the sooner I may return to my quest!" 

Quillfire obeyed with a gulp, a reaction so out of character for himself he didn't know what to make of it. For some unfathomable reason, he wanted to make peace with this bot, and he was stuck with that. Perhaps he just didn't want to endure an entire mission tainted by awkward silences and angry glares, but what could possibly make things amicable between them? This bot wanted nothing but the treasure of a fabled city that didn't exist, how was he supposed to provide anything like that? Perhaps… just some conversation might do the trick? If only to lighten the mood...

As they came to a road that marked the next leg of their mission, he made an effort to think of something to say as the amphibicon pondered their map, as well as the instructions they'd been given.

"Steeljaw instructed us to wait here and construct an ambush site. When the human transport arrives, we are to steal their cargo…" he said, finishing the statement with a most distasteful croak. Clearly, his fellow bot was not especially interested in the mission either, and likely was imagining countless other ways his time could be better spent. Such was a common feeling at their rank, and he did truly share most of the frustration. With that as a starting point, Quillfire imagined they may have some common ground after all. 

"I will keep watch on the road, so that you might strike at the most opportune time!" he declared boldly, emphasizing his faith in the others skills. It wasn't even a stretch, as he firmly believed the other was more than capable of getting this done. Looking up and down the simple paved path to ensure he had a good vantage point, he found one in the form of a sheltered outcrop. Looking to Springload for a reaction the entire time, he smirked confidently and clamored up to the flat bit of earth above the road, gesturing to the wide field of observable forest as he did so. "We will claim our quarry with a single attack, and return victorious!"

Springload merely observed him with a blink of apathetic consideration. "Yes, indeed." he said simply, hopping into position and making sure to face away from his teammate when he did so. Pulling out the holo of his supposed map, he began to study it as he always did, scanning the runes for what had to be the millionth time. A terse tone made his feelings on any future reconciliation clear. "Then I may continue my quest for Doradas, alone."

The anarchist's quills sagged at the turn of events. While he hadn't been expecting immediate friendship, he also hadn't anticipated that the other mech would be so openly hostile to any kind of amicable teamwork, and found himself quite disappointed by the lack of success. For whatever reason, he just wanted Springload to like him, and failing at that was bothering him. I'm fact, it was bad enough that some part of him just refused to accept the defeat. There had to be a way he could earn the other's camaraderie. Considering how much time they still had left before their mission began, he had a good window in which to ponder a solution. 

Sitting back on the soft grass, he put a hand to his chin in intense thought. Springload himself only openly cared about one thing, and he didn't know him well enough to be aware of any other likes or interests… Casting a glance at the amphibicon, he felt his processor buzzing at the strain of thinking so hard to produce no results. He simply didn't know anything about geography, archeology, linguistics or any other topic which might help the other mech in his quest. The thought that he might not be able to do anything ate at him much more than it should have. It was enough to make him sigh sadly to himself at the hopelessness of it all.

"Do you see something?" Springload asked, mistaking his small sound for a potential signal. Embarrassed and surprised, Quillfire coughed and babbled out an excuse as fast as he could come up with one.

"Ah… no! I simply mistook a… an organic being for the target!" he explained lamely, not even believing himself. Springload arched an optic ridge, looking as incredulous as he did frustrated at the false alarm. Quillfire laughed awkwardly to clear the air, shrinking down beneath the edge of the outcrop to disappear from view. A dissatisfied croak let him know the outburst was thoroughly not appreciated. 

Frowning miserably to himself, the anarchist occupied his lonesome by doodling in the dirt at his pedes, practicing his signature mark as he often did while thinking. What was he supposed to do? Apologies were not in his nature, least of all because he didn't want to give them. As a loner he just didn't have much practice saying he was sorry to anyone. Ordinarily he was busy disrupting systems of power, overthrowing tyrannical systems, or freeing trapped souls with no one else to save them… Thoughts and feelings like these were too new for him to know what to do with them.

Thinking hard, he tried to come up with something he could do to earn the favor of the other mech, but still came up short. It was frustrating enough to make him draw more aggressively, because deep down he was certain there had to be a way to succeed. Springload wasn't too different from himself, after all. A lone mech, seeking his goals, using his natural gifts and weapons to take down those who opposed him…

Just as he was about to growl to himself at his failure to be inspired, his digit bumped against something in the soft earth. Without anything better to do, he slowly went about digging the object free. A flash of a white, shiny exterior motivated him to continue. Briefly forgetting about his troubles, he dug until a dirty but visibly solid object began to reveal its shape. Round and about the size of his palm, a glossy white stone came from the dirt without too much fuss, and he smiled at the small accomplishment. It was a rather lovely treasure for such a simple planet.

Just as he began to dust some of the remaining dirt from the granite or quartz exterior, he was struck by an idea, one so foolish he had to wonder how it could work.  

Still, he was a champion of crazy ideas, so he dared to consider it. 

Springload was a mech who one could describe as… extravagant, both in mission and mind. He required one to go all out, as he never held back in regards to the quest that he'd dedicated his entire life to completing. Overall, he was just an unusual bot. Perhaps, if Quillfire was thinking this through properly, that meant he could be reasoned with through some unusual means?

Tilting the rounded stone in his servo, he dared to believe a simple yet unusual gift would be enough to at least get the two of them started on a path to mending their teamwork. If nothing else, he'd at least get to tell himself he tried. The hardest part would be working up the courage to begin, but hopefully after that things would be easier. He just needed to take that first step…

Peeking over the edge of the outcrop, he saw that the amphibicon was in the same place he'd last been, reading over his map and murmuring to himself. Despite having read it every day for eons, the dedicated bot didn't look the least bit uninterested in his work. If anything, he looked downright eager, as if on the verge of a breakthrough at any given time. Quillfire hoped interrupting him wouldn't cause an even greater rift to form. 

Clearing his vents, he found his pump pounding with unnatural anxiety as he forced his voice box to speak up, his servos almost trembling about the stone as he took a considerable leap of faith.

"S-Springload?" he finally croaked out, nearly losing his nerve when the other mech looked up to him with painfully obvious annoyance. Gulping, he overcame his anxiety to speak up and stand tall to appear more confident than he felt.  "Can you… come up here? There is something you must see!"

Brightly colored optics widened, then fixed him with a look equal parts incredulous and irritated. "Is it important?"

"Very!" he insisted, sounding honest because he truly meant it with all of his spark. What could be more important than mending his fued with a fellow teammate?

In a single hop, Springload tucked away his map and cleared the entire road, landing just before Quillfire with a graceful thud. 

"I, er…" he stammered as the silliness of what he was about to do hit him in full. Unable to remember the last time he had given or received anything, he was without a clue as to what to say, so he simply held out the stone in his cupped palms with an attempt at a smile. There was a perceptible tremble in his arms as he did so, but he remained strong. "I believe I'm supposed to give this to you!" 

Springload didn't immediately react beyond a raised brow, so he stammered forth more of an explanation, spark sinking in his chest. "As a s-sign of… teamwork."

"A white stone?" the amphibicon said at last, as if awakening from a light trance. Taking the rock carefully into his large servo, all while ensuring his acidic coat didn't touch the other mech, he held the item aloft into the light. Just seeing him interested made the anarchist dare to hope things might work out, but in his wildest of dreams he'd never have anticipated what happened next. Springload lit up like a mech beholding a Prime out of the blue, his optics turning away from the stone for just a moment. 

"Just the same as those that line the gates of Doradas!" he exclaimed in awe.

Quillfire didn't have any response for that, good or bad as it may have been.

"What?"

"The sacred text makes it clear!" he shouted in explanation, bringing forth his scroll of indecipherable runes as if it made everything make sense. Gesturing to the lines of what Springload saw as gibberish, he began to proclaim their meaning with enthusiasm, optics wide and wild. "You see, here?! The gates of the Holy City will be lined with pure stones to mark the way!" 

"I'm…" was all he could reply with, still a million miles behind the other mech in regards to understanding. While he'd hoped at most for appreciation or a mere thanks, Springload looked about ready to burst with excitement, and for reasons he couldn't even begin to comprehend. At the very least he figured he should be happy for the turn of events when he was surprised yet again. 

"But how could you know?" Springload pressed, catching him more than a little off guard. Holding up his servos in surrender, Quillfire tried to figure out what exactly he was supposed to have known, and how he might have gone about figuring it out. He'd just thought it was pretty and would make a decent gesture of peace! Fumbling for a response so as not to lose his progress, he was saved by another burst of revelation he had no part in.

"Of course, the spirits!" he exclaimed, almost dropping the rock in his excitement. Clasping his servos over the apparently precious gift, he explained his excitement more or less by simply talking aloud to himself. "They must have guided you, enabling you to find such a sacred object, so that you could gift it to me!"

Accepting he would never truly understand, Quillfire only smiled and nodded at the other's exuberance. More than happy things had turned out so well, he was content to let the other mech believe whatever he wanted, even if he didn't follow it. "Of course!"

"As to why they would do this… they must know you are key to my quest!" Springload continued, using an avid free servo to clasp the other mech's arm in a sign of commitment. More surprised than confused, the anarchist tilted his helm in shock at how fast things had changed between them. Just like that, everything that had happened was forgiven? More than forgiven, in fact, he was seen as a friend and ally? It didn't seem inaccurate to say he was also being looked at as a divine being at the moment. By the Primes, this bot was like no other!

"I was a fool! To think, I tried to push you away!" the amphibicon cried, deactivating his acid so he could better cling to the taller mech. Seeing the emotion in his eyes, Quillfire wondered if he might start weeping, and hoped it wouldn't come to such a show. Not only was he not the best at providing comfort, he didn't have any tissues… Mercifully, the big optics looking into his seemed to sparkle with jubilation rather than tears.

"Ah, it's really nothing…" Quillfire reassured, beginning to blush from the high praise. A spare servo massaged the back of his neck in an open show of bashful deflection. Such a small thing hardly felt worthy of this kind of praise, even for a mech as glory seeking as himself. Not that he was disliking this turn of events.

"It's everything!" Springload corrected, emphatic and no longer impatient. "You must have been sent into my life by the spirits themselves!"

Actively blushing at that, the anarchist looked away, rubbing harder at the back of his neck. He hadn't a clue what to do with this newfound respect and admiration. Perhaps the other bot was just having a momentary burst of affection, which would give way as soon as the next symbol or sign grabbed his attention, but at present such a turn seemed beyond doubtful. Quillfire was being regarded in a way typically saved for the most ancient and holy of altars to the Primes. In the depths of his spark, he wanted it to last.

A distant but heavy sound caught his sharp audials, just as the tremor sensitive Springload perked up in synchronized recognition. Something was rumbling its way down the primitive earth road. Recalling their mission so fast his quills flared in alarm, the anarchist stood up to his full height, catching a glimpse of a truck through the densely packed pines. Their target was approaching fast. Worse, they were in no position to intercept it as planned. 

Thinking fast, Quillfire pulled one of his namesake weapons from his back, preparing to strike as the unknowing human drove their way. 

"I shall block the path." he announced, redirecting their strategy from before to include himself. Business came first for them both, so each was ready in an instant. Springload crouched low on his powerful legs in anticipation of his orders, which came just as the truck began barreling down the final stretch in their direction, multiple tons on a solid course they needed to stop. "You, render it motionless once it is stopped."

An agreeable ribbit communicated hearty understanding in the final moments before their strike. 

While massive by earth standards, the truck was small enough for Quillfire to plan his moves without much of a risk. Still, he was careful in his timing, as the cargo was as valuable as it was delicate. Any great crash would render it useless. Their success hinged on him being precise more than cautious, so he waited for the perfect amount of distance to be between himself and his target before he leapt down into the asphalt below. 

Well practiced using his own weapons, he tossed his quill just ahead of the already braking truck, funneling their path to the point of nonexistence. With nowhere to go, the driver was forced to slam on the brakes and skid to a stop, not having the option to go around or turn back. Quillfire smirked in pride at the human's textbook reaction, and could have sworn he heard Springload give a cheer at his victory. Near victory, that was, there was still one crucial step for them to see through.

"Now!" he ordered as the multiple tire sets came to a stop just shy of him. With the speed of someone working on the same page, the amphibicon dove from his perch, shooting his tongue out like a whip. Acid and force popped the tires in rapid succession, filling the air with a series of bangs and creaks until the heavy machine collapsed onto nothing but it's hubcaps. Rubber flew in every direction and nothing even resembling tires remained to spin, leaving multiple tons collapsed on the asphalt. The truck would not be going anywhere. 

"A clean victory!" Springload declared happily, still clutching his gift as he hopped back beside Quillfire. "Truly, the spirits are on our side in full. You are their greatest emissary."

Beaming at the praise, Quillfire turned when he heard the door of the vehicle opening up. Both mech's turned just as the human driver jumped from the vehicle, landing in a heap on the ground as he did so. Catching their mutual gaze, the tiny being threw up his hands in surrender, wide eyed and terrified as could be. A gigantic, metallic frog and an even bigger metal porcupine had not been mentioned when he'd taken the job. 

"Look, I'm n-not paid enough for this!" he stammered, gesturing wildly to the trailer as he slowly stepped backwards on shaking legs. Giving up the goods completely for his own sake, he unknowingly earned the approval of a certain anarchist. Abandoning one's shackles for self preservation was a key tactic, and he smiled as the human gave them both full clearance, dropping his keys on the spot. "Just take the truck! A-all of it!"

"We shall, your cooperation is appreciated." Springload replied, sounding a bit haughty. In truth the human's cooperation meant little; either mech was fully capable of taking what they wanted without much effort. Happy just to see someone making the right choices, Quillfire praised and comforted the terrified earthling in what he considered to be the best way.  

"Fear not, brother. You have been liberated from the bonds of oppressive labor!" he encouraged, presenting the human with a smile of reassurance. Reacting with what he presumed to be unfathomable joy, the tiny being turned about and began to sprint, disappearing into the trees with a considerable ruckus of breaking branches and fussing animals. Screams of jubilation began echoing out after he was long gone from sight.

Waving the lucky one off, Quillfire smiled at the impossible fortune this day had brought him, happy to share it with others. If humans could figure out the true way to live, perhaps there was yet hope for them. He dared to believe as much while shouting after the former truck driver. "Go forth, tiny earthling! Enjoy the freedom we have given you!"

Turning back to the work yet to be completed, he found Springload using his selectively acidic touch to melt through the lock of the truck's trailer, his gift still peeking out through his other servo's protective grip. Marveling at how the other mech seemed intent on believing his truth, Quillfire still decided to let it be. Though happy just to be friends, it was quite likely this was just how things worked for such a dramatic bot. He was surprised how he was beyond accepting of such a concept, and in fact, quite looking forward to it. 

As the doors opened, the two of them found a rather manageable cluster of boxes secured tightly to avoid damaging movement. Comfortable as the load would have been for two bots, it doubtlessly was too much for one, yet Springload began freeing it from its bonds with a smile. 

"Allow me to carry this burden, great one! It is the least I can offer!" he said eagerly, tucking his stone away into a subspace beside his spark. Cutting their payload free, he began to move the boxes happily outside, no doubt planning to pile them all into his altmode. While usually happy to get some time off, Quillfire didn't feel right about leaving the other mech to handle it all. Their new partnership deserved to get off to a much better start than that. 

"I can help." he reassured simply, taking his fair share of the boxes to carry in his hands. Though the smaller mech needed his altmode to handle his share, he didn't allow transforming to stop his eager chatting, and continued to extoll the virtues of his new ally as a happy pickup truck. 

"Such generosity!" he praised, putting along to leave the abandoned truck behind them. Though a little overwhelmed by the idea of someone seeing him as a bona fide gift from ancient deities, he allowed the other mech's chatter to fill the walk home, finding it to be far better than the awkward silence that had followed them here. Who ever would have been able to guess a mere stone could change so much? 

"I shall have to insist we are partnered together for future endeavors! As two individuals chosen by the spirits, our camaraderie can bring only success!" Springload gushed, turning about happily on his bouncing tires. "Would that please you, great one? I am certain riches will come to us both!"

Though he still had his own dreams, Quillfire didn't indeed find the idea of more missions like this very agreeable, so much so that he had no problem smiling in affirment. 

"Riches indeed, my new friend!" 

#transformers #maccadam #transformers rid2015 #rid2015 #rid2k15 #rid #robots in disguise 2015 #quillfire #springload #my writing #my commissions #aligned

[morganaseren]

Warden Niamh/Warden Bethany AU

So because there seemed to be interest in the idea, I decided to expand on the second prompt on this list of AUs I made for Bethany and my Niamh Cousland.

Since Bethany is a Circle Mage in Niamh’s canon verse, I really wanted to experiment with Bethany in one of her other potential routes We don’t talk about the ones where she died not long after escaping Lothering or down in the Deep Roads. Like, what are you talking about? Lalala~ and see if I could work together a happier ending than what the games canonically gave her.

Like most of the AUs I’ve already written about though, this is just a snippet into the verse, so it’s not as polished as I’d like it to be, and the pacing isn’t on par with my main fic. However, there are still 50+ pages for your reading pleasure! Depending on reader interest, I’ll be more than happy to write more about this or other AUs once OtSttCA is completed.

Disclaimer: Any section written in present tense beneath the Read More contains notes or scenes that I’ve yet to expand upon properly.

CliffNotes version of what goes on:

This whole thing takes place sometime after Bethany becomes a Grey Warden and continues on through the years-long breaks between the Acts of DA2. The epilogue will be set sometime after the Trespasser DLC is completed.

Niamh is the Grey Warden who Morrigan chooses to do the Dark Ritual with, and through the obvious use of magic, Kieran is conceived. Because of this, Niamh’s sister Saoirse escapes her otherwise canonical death and gets to be happily married to Leliana.

Because of their mutual respect for one another, and the fact that Niamh went through the trouble of finding Morrigan through the events of the Witch Hunt DLC (she was worried about her friend and their son), she and Morrigan remain in close contact and co-parent Kieran together. Their relationship is often mistaken as a romantic one though.

Bethany eventually falls in love with Niamh over the years, but because she believes the other woman is in a relationship with Morrigan, she keeps her feelings to herself. As such, this is obviously going to be a slow burn romance much like OtSttCA.

Bethany only confesses (albeit by accident) when Niamh nearly dies during a darkspawn ambush when the two woman accidentally find themselves trapped down in the Deep Roads.

There’s a romantic kiss out in the rain along with a semi-NSFW scene later on, which explains why the Read More is in place beyond the fact that this is already super long despite the fact that it’s unfinished...

They both go off in search of the cure to The Calling not long after the Kirkwall Rebellion, and they both eventually get married sometime after the Trespasser DLC with Divine Victoria (spoilers: it’s Leliana) officiating their wedding.

Interested so far? Click below to read more!

“You’re originally from Ferelden, no?” Stroud asked, drawing Bethany’s attention from where she’d been listlessly staring at the cobblestones as they walked away from Amaranthine’s sea port.

The city itself seemed to be thriving with fishmongers and traders of all kinds rattling off their wares to passersby. Save for the workers carrying about lumber and other building materials, one might not have even believed that Amaranthine had suffered its fair share of woes during the onset of the Fifth Blight or the consequent, mysterious darkspawn attack upon its walls nearly a year later. Still, the denizens of the arling were ever a hearty people. For whatever hardship befell them, they continued to persevere. 

She supposed she couldn’t bring herself to be too surprised by that.

The Storm Coast had spawned some of Thedas’ most fearsome raiders once upon a time, and they had proven the bane of Orlais in the rebellion that had spanned over half an Age. For the empire’s trespass upon their freedom, they had fought back with a ruthlessness that matched the raging waves of the sea that was as much a home to them as the land. In the face of such an unsympathetic enemy, they depended on one another to see themselves and each other through to another day. Such faith eventually earned them the liberation they had long sought against Orlais.

Bethany could still see evidence of such camaraderie in the way the people greeted one another so whole-heartedly, stopping to make conversation or help with the transportation of wares. It was such interaction that she’d miss in all the time she’d been away.

Kirkwall had lacked such sincere enthusiasm.

Still, in the two years since she’d left it, she was finally back home, but Bethany knew it was yet another decision she hadn’t had a say in. She hadn’t agreed to returning to Ferelden any more than she had agreed to becoming a Grey Warden. Her jaw clenched, remembering how her sister had simply handed her over to them even when faced with the proposition that they’d likely never see one another again.

Was it really so easy for you to leave me behind, Sister? she thought bitterly, and perhaps upon sensing her melancholy, Stroud changed the subject.

“I realize it seems a rather abrupt choice in returning you here, but what I seek is far too dangerous for someone so new to our way of life to accompany me with,” he explained. “I’m meeting with the Warden-Commander of the Fereldan branch so that I might share some information in the event that things go awry. Their group is smaller than the ones seen across Thedas, but no one can deny their efficiency.” Stroud spared a small chuckle at that. “A bit like your sister and her crew, I suppose; I thought perhaps you would be more comfortable in such a setting.”

It had been a thoughtful suggestion; Bethany knew that. Still, she couldn’t help but sigh. She had always felt that the individuals whom had made up her little social circle were more Emrys’ friends than they had ever been hers. Her older sister had the type of presence to draw anyone to her with her rakish charm and absolute battle prowess.

…which was the exact opposite of her.

As an apostate, it was far easier to stay out of trouble by being unobtrusive. If she gave the Templars no reason to suspect her, she wouldn’t be taken away from her family and the quiet life she had always known. Yet, for all her trouble—and for all her desperation to abide by the rules of a society that had long hated mages like her—she had found herself alone anyway.

Bethany sighed as she looked down at the blues and silvers of the brigandine and tabard of her outfit that signified her status as a Grey Warden. Even with her staff openly displayed across her back, she supposed she no longer had to fear being turned into the authorities. Save for a few curious glances, no one so much as batted an eye at them.

She wasn’t entirely convinced this new life was better than the one she’d left. She could have dealt with the ever-present uncertainty in Kirkwall and the endless, interpersonal squabbles of their ragtag group than spending the remainder of her years surrounded by strangers and fighting darkspawn.

But the choice wasn’t hers to make.

Very little ever was.

---

“So that’s Velanna. She took over as Archivist for our branch when the Warden-Constable was promoted to her current position by our Commander,” Nathaniel said as he took Bethany and Stroud through a tour of Vigil’s Keep since the fortress’ respective Warden-Commander and Warden-Constable were currently out on business.

Their latest stop was a library filled with seemingly endless rows of bookshelves and even more that lined the walls of the chamber that consisted of three separate levels. It was impressive, and Bethany was half-convinced she could have spent an Age in this room alone and never be able to read the entirety of its collection.

At Nathaniel’s commentary, she spared a cursory glance at the woman writing intently at one of the tables furthest away from them, paying little mind to her audience. As was typical of most elves, Velanna was a slight woman. Her hair was a shade of blonde so pale that it was nearly white, but there was a surliness in her pensive expression that gave Bethany pause. It was something that suggested the other woman didn’t welcome the company of others easily, and she seemed to have been proven right by Nathaniel’s words.

“Don’t mind her if she’s a bit standoffish at first. Velanna’s usually that way with everyone until she starts warming up to them,” he assured.

“Oh?”

“Yes. She didn’t really like humans all that much to begin with—hardly a surprise considering how terrible some of them were toward her former clan. Truthfully, I think the only people she really respects are our commanding officers—the Constable mostly though.” He spared a soft chuckle at that. “Granted, the Warden-Commander could lead a damn army from one side of Thedas to the other, but only her sister has the type of negotiation skills that could somehow end up with a High Dragon allied with a sheep of all things.”

“Probably a good thing,” said Varel—the Keep’s seneschal. There was amusement in his dark eyes as he stroked his beard, which had long grown grey with age. “Actually succeeding in getting the Warden-Constable angry is a terrifying sight to behold.”

“Please don’t remind me; I still have nightmares from our first meeting…” Nathaniel muttered with a shudder.

Bethany found that curious, but before she could begin to question him, she saw how he blinked at further movement inside the library. She followed his gaze to see that a dark-haired, dwarven woman had entered through one of the side entrances, carrying two, steaming mugs. One had been set before Velanna, who whispered something quietly, but both of Bethany’s brows rose when she saw how the elf’s cheeks quickly reddened by the kiss that had been pressed to them by her latest visitor.

“Ah. And that’s Sigrun there—another one of those few, honored individuals who Velanna won’t immediately snap at,” Nathaniel remarked humorously.

The tour then continued elsewhere with the party entering the Mess Hall. While neat and tidy, it would have otherwise been unremarkable were it not for the lone dwarf snoring loudly atop one of the tables—an empty cask by his side. Bethany and Stroud shared bemused glances while Varel only cursed next to them, running a weary hand down his face.

“I told you we needed better locks for the cellar if we’re to keep Oghren away from the wine stores,” Nathaniel deadpanned.

Oghren grumbled nonsensically in his sleep before promptly rolling off the table and right onto the floor, loudly overturning more than a few chairs in the process. Despite the fall, he continued to doze away, and his snoring only seemed to grow in volume. They then watched as the poor seneschal wearily hauled the dwarf back to his quarters before he could cause another incident in front of their guests.

“…well, that was Oghren,” Nathaniel muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a weary sigh. “Quite the interesting fellow, that one. With him, you’ve pretty much met every Warden in the Keep save for—”

He was interrupted by the sound of voices coming down the hallway.

“I told you that I’m more than capable of walking on my own!” protested a feminine voice, irritation evident within it.

“Says the woman who was nearly side-swiped off a cliff by an ogre,” came the deeper timbre of another woman’s amused reply.

Unlike Nathaniel or herself, the latest arrivals didn’t seem to bear the typical, Fereldan accent or even Stroud’s Orlesian one from what she could tell. Bethany could hear how some of the vowels lilted somewhat as they spoke.

“It didn’t really give me any choice in the matter,” was the dry response. “It was either stand before its charge or risk the family in the wagon being swept over the edge instead.”

“I was hardly questioning your bravery, Sister. The people in that caravan certainly wouldn’t, but perhaps leave the more death-defying stunts to those of us with the armor to handle it, hm? I shudder to think what our brother or Aunt Eithne (writer’s note: pronounced Eth-Nah) would say once they find out about this...”

“Perhaps that you were lazing about while I was doing all the work as per usual.”

“Hey!”

Two women appeared in the doorway of the Mess Hall then, and Bethany was startled to find that one of them rivaled her older sister in both height and size. She was a warrior through and through if the impressive greatsword over her shoulder and her overall physique was any indication. Her mane of hair was the color of pale wheat, the length of which was held in a braid that trailed down half her back, and her eyes were a deep, stormy grey. The woman she was carrying—her sister, according to their conversation—was much slighter in comparison.

Rather than sharing in the warrior’s blonde-haired looks, hers was a stark, raven-black. The loose curls trailed to roughly chin-length with a longer fringe that covered one of her eyes—the color a whisper of smoke than the darker grey her sister had. The woman’s arms were also crossed over her chest as she regarded her sister—deeply-unimpressed—before her features cleared at the sight of their visitors.

“Ah. Stroud. Glad to see you and your companion made it across the Waking Sea safely. We weren’t expecting you both for at least another day, or we’d have sent an escort to meet you at the port.”

“No need for the trouble. The winds were kind during our voyage, Warden-Constable,” he said before tilting his head in concern. “Although it appears we’ve arrived too late to help you both. Has the darkspawn presence been more troubling as of late?”

The warrior whom Bethany deduced to be the Warden-Commander merely snorted. “They’re not as plentiful as they were a year ago thankfully. With Niamh’s and Velanna’s respective magic, our branch here has slowly been sealing any access tunnels we’ve come across, but our enemy may just be as awful as vermin with how they manage to reappear in other areas.”

“The incidents have been isolated so far as we can tell, but they’re capable of disrupting travel all the same. On that note…” The Constable trailed off as she turned her gaze toward the Warden who had been showing them about the Keep. “Nathaniel, we have guests from the caravan mentioned earlier. As it’s getting rather late, Saoirse and I decided it was best not to press our luck by letting them travel so soon after the darkspawn attack. Could you and Varel direct them to the guest quarters? We’ll arrange an escort for them to Amaranthine first thing in the morning.”

He pressed a fist over his heart respectfully as he bowed his head. “Of course.”

“Wonderful. Now—”

“Now we get you back to your quarters so that we can tend to your injuries,” her sister interrupted, cheerily grinning when it led to the other woman scowling outright, as if she had been reminded of her current position.

“And I’m more than capable of walking there on my own. Put me down!”

“And risk you further injuring yourself? What type of sister would I be if I were to allow that to happen? Now then!” The Commander directed a smile Bethany’s way, and she jerked in place at the sudden attention. “You’re the latest to join our Order, aren’t you? Stroud mentioned you were a mage. I don’t suppose you know any healing magic, do you?”

“Oh.” Bethany blinked. “Um, well, yes. I have some experience with it.” She had tended to her sister’s and their friends’ injuries often enough back in Kirkwall.

“Excellent. Would you mind tending to Niamh here as best as you can while I go find Velanna? I’m pretty sure my sister fractured a few ribs in that fight earlier.” She chuckled. “And don’t worry if she gives you any trouble; she has a history of being a terrible patient,” she added, earning a pained grunt for her troubles when the woman in question elbowed her sharply in the chest.

---

And before Bethany knew it, she found herself alone with the Warden-Constable in her quarters.

She was trying not to blush at the sight of the woman reclined against the propped pillows at the headboard of the bed. Modesty didn’t seem to be an issue for the other mage. Without another word, she had undressed—with a few occasional winces here and there as the movement pulled at her injuries—and was now bare from the waist up, save for the bindings around her breasts.

Bethany couldn’t help her own wince when she saw the livid bruising that covered the right side of the woman’s torso. It almost looked like the trunk of a tree had been slammed against it if the abrasions and bits of bark embedded into the cuts were any indication.

And she kept insisting to try and walk on her own with an injury like this? she thought in absolute disbelief before delicately pressing the tips of her fingers against the bruise. Despite being as gentle as possible, it still drew a sharp hiss from the Warden-Constable, and Bethany jerked her head up to see the other woman’s clearly pained visage.

“Sorry!”

“No, it needs to be done. Keep going,” she insisted even as pale eyes closed themselves to focus on breathing in and out evenly—albeit with some difficulty.

With permission given, Bethany laid her hand out over the woman’s side, drawing her magic out with a silvery-blue light. From there, she began sounding out the extent of the Warden-Constable’s injuries by feeling where it burned hottest beneath her palm—an indication of how bad the damage was. There was always a tickling sensation that spread out to her fingertips whenever she gently coaxed broken bones back into place. It was akin to puzzle pieces slowly sliding back together before she could encourage them to heal, and she waited for the pulsing waves around them to fade into a dull echo before focusing on the next fractured bone.

As for the bruised muscles surrounding them, they were far easier to deal with. Bethany poured magic beneath the skin in gradual increments—droplets of rain spilling into a cup one by one—until she felt the burning heat simmer down to a more bearable ache. She continued the process, slowly sliding her hand along the woman’s side until the patchwork of blues and blacks which had covered its expanse faded into a yellowish tinge and the superficial cuts had closed themselves. Bethany pulled away then with a satisfied smile.

“What song was that?”

Bethany blinked, turning her gaze up to see silvery eyes staring at her curiously. “Hm?”

“You were humming something while you were healing me.”

“Oh.” She felt heat gathering along her cheeks at the revelation. “It’s an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me. When my father first taught me healing magic, I used to hold my breath while I was performing the spell, but as you can imagine, it’s not a very sound idea unless you want both an unconscious healer and patient.” Embarrassed laughter spilled out of her then as she brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “After a time, I learned that humming a few songs was useful in reminding me to breathe.”

“I see.” The Warden-Constable smiled, looking a great deal more relaxed as she reclined further against the headboard. “Well, thank you.”

“Of course.”

The Warden-Commander walked in then with Velanna in tow, and the warrior seemed surprised to see her sister still in bed. “Did you actually manage to get her to stay there the entire time?” she asked incredulously.

Bethany blinked in confusion at that since her patient had otherwise been well-behaved. As it was, she could only nod tentatively, causing the other woman to grin openly.

“Hah! Well done! I didn’t expect Stroud to send me someone who could cow her into submission.”

The Warden-Constable’s eyes narrowed then. “It was not my hearing that was damaged in that fight, Saoirse. You would do well to not make such comments before me,” she deadpanned, and despite the threat, it only drew hearty laughter from her sister, who soon drew her attention back to Bethany.

“Stroud said your name was Hawke, right?”

She shifted uncomfortably, having grown too used to her surname being used to refer to Emrys, but she nodded all the same. “I’d prefer just to be called Bethany if that’s alright.”

“Ah. Understandable. Can’t tell you how many times my sister and I both answered ‘yes’ in the same room whenever someone called out for a Warden Cousland.” She smiled. “In any case, welcome to the Fereldan branch of the Grey Wardens, Bethany. We’re glad to have you with us.”

---

After that, Bethany settles into Vigil’s Keep.

She sends letters home every now and then, but they’re usually only addressed to her mother. They’re never really long—just enough to let her know that she’s alive and well. Although Bethany realizes it’s a petty thing, she doesn’t ask about Emrys or send her anything for that matter. She’s still angry and resentful that her older sister managed to escape their adventure down into the Deep Roads unscathed while she got cheated out a future, leaving her to a life of killing darkspawn until the Calling finally takes her into the abyss of death. 

Melancholy is ever her constant companion, but eventually, she gets paired with Niamh for missions, who teaches her much about their duties as Wardens over the months, which takes them all around Ferelden. They deal with darkspawn sightings and document areas where they’ve sealed off underground routes into the Deep Roads with earth-based magic, hopefully preventing them from returning so regularly to bother nearby provinces.

As partners, they slowly become closer.

---

"Do you regret it?" Bethany asked one night as they sat by the campfire, watching as Niamh effortlessly flicked a hand to control the size of it just as a strong wind passed beneath the rocky overhang they'd taken shelter under. "Being a Grey Warden, I mean?"

Niamh paused, giving the matter some thought. "There are worse things to be, I suppose." She shrugged. "For a time, I hated the idea of being a mage because it took me away from my family. However, my being a Grey Warden was likely the only thing that saved me from being slaughtered with the rest of them when Howe plotted his coup. It likely also saved me from dying at the hands of my colleagues in Kinloch Hold when one of the Senior Enchanters overthrew it with blood magic and his followers.” She looked over at Bethany then. "Truthfully, I enjoy being able to see more of the world than through the cage the Chantry kept me in. I like the experience of being a part of it even in the moments that people dislike most."

Niamh held a hand out past the edge of the overhang, casually catching droplets of rain in her palm. Bethany watched as a slow smile spread across her features at the sound of another crash of thunder, and she couldn’t help how her own heart seemed to quicken upon seeing that serene expression.

"Our lives are more finite than they ever were," Bethany said distractedly, knowing all Wardens had only a few decades at most after their Joining.

"They are," she conceded. "That’s why I intend to make the most of it." Niamh's expression then turned sheepish as she turned back toward her. "I’m sorry. That probably wasn’t the answer you were looking for, was it?"

"No," she admitted, but as mellow as the other woman was, she was hardly surprised. Niamh had a way of remaining positive despite everything else life seemed to throw at them. Bethany smiled in spite of herself. "It was an honest one though. Thank you."

---

Every day is always an interesting adventure.

If not darkspawn, they deal with brigands out on the road or aid people across the countryside. To Bethany’s surprise, their help is openly requested sometimes when they reach a new town or village. Following the Blight, the utter bravery of the Grey Wardens had earned them Ferelden’s deepest respect. Thus, despite the fact they’re two mages traveling about, their regalia draws easy admiration and conversation alike.

It’s admittedly an odd feeling to have as a mage: to be wanted.

Bethany slowly grows to enjoy it though, especially when she can help with her magic so openly without being reviled for it.

Sometimes the jobs asked of them are simple enough: deal with a band of thieves, rid the area of rabid animals encroaching too close to farmland, helping out with some odds and ends around the village, etc.

Given that Niamh is a veteran of the Fifth Blight, Bethany also ends up learning a lot of survival skills from her during their travels together. She’s endlessly amazed by how the other mage utilizes her magic in combat and with other tasks such as hunting or fishing.

Bethany’s understandably shocked when she realizes that Niamh knows how to shapeshift, often scouting the skies as a raven to search for any nearby danger or roaming the wilderness as a sleek-looking, black wolf to hunt for game. It’s an unexpected revelation, especially since the other woman admitted to having been a part of the Circle most of her life before being recruited as a Warden.

She’s never met another mage so intriguing.

While Anders had been a benevolent healer, offering his skills to those most in need, it was his restless anger—an almost blind righteousness—over the plight of mages that gave Bethany pause.

Merrill was sweet in comparison, of course, and Bethany never minded talking with her even if there were the occasional cultural gaps that led to amusing misunderstandings at times. Still, the other woman held an interest in blood magic that Bethany wasn’t entirely certain she was comfortable with. After all, she had grown up hearing about the dangers of such magic from the Chantry. Then again, Andrastian religion also denounced who she was as a person as well, which was depressing in its own right…

While Niamh’s aptitude for elemental magic alone is impressive, Bethany is certain the woman’s shapeshifting draws upon some form of ancient or arcane magic—something well outside of the Circle’s teachings. It draws her curiosity endlessly. As such, Bethany asks her about the skill one day. Niamh just smiles, idly toying with the wooden ring that sits on a cord of black leather around her neck, revealing that a former companion taught it to her.

And that’s how Bethany learns about Morrigan.

---

“What?” Bethany exclaimed when Saoirse revealed how she was able to survive the slaying of the Archdemon. “You’re telling me that she and Niamh were able to…” She trailed off, trying to fight the blush burning across her face as her mind began imagining the possibilities of how such a conception was possible.

“You know, I thought to ask Niamh the technicalities of it once, but given she’s my baby sister—and obviously lacks the essential, uh, tool for the matter—I just decided it was best not to pry,” Saoirse answered dryly. She idly waved her hand about. “I don’t care to learn about her intimate life any more than she cares to know about mine,” she added before the corner of her mouth lifted into a lazy grin. “But for all intents and purposes, Kieran is my nephew, and Morrigan’s very much family now despite her protests to the contrary.”

“And he has the soul of an Old God?” she asked quietly as she turned to look at Kieran and the two women who were his parents.

Oghren had heard of their latest visitors and was—

Bethany squinted in confusion.

He was doing some type of weird jig in front of the baby, who was currently in Morrigan’s arms. Unfortunately, the erratic, uncoordinated nature of it did nothing to amuse him or his mother. Seemingly uncomfortable by the sight, Kieran gave an unhappy whine before reaching out toward Niamh, little fingers grasping repeatedly in her direction. Morrigan transferred him easily into the other woman’s arms when it was clear she wouldn’t mind holding him, allowing her to dryly berate the dwarf while Niamh comforted their son.

“So Morrigan says, yes,” the warrior answered with a shrug. “I originally turned down her ritual because I couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting an innocent life to such a fate, but I can’t be mad at the result. I still have Leliana because of it, and I can see how much Niamh adores both Kieran and Morrigan.” Her smile softened. “She has a piece of the happiness that I always wanted for her—something Niamh felt she could never find in this world, terrible as it is for mages at times.”

Bethany couldn’t help but agree at the latter sentiment.

Looking at the three of them, they certainly did seem like a happy family. Still, Bethany couldn’t help but feel some small pang of envy. While she had discovered that Niamh could draw just about anyone into easy conversation with her, she was rather private about her personal life. It wasn’t until recently that Bethany discovered she was even in a relationship—let alone one involving another woman. She had no issue with the idea or with Morrigan for that matter. The other mage was well-matched with Niamh on the basis of intrigue alone, but…

Bethany bit her lip.

After all those long months together with Niamh, she couldn’t help but feel—

Bethany nearly swallowed her tongue when she realized sharp, golden eyes were staring at her over Niamh’s head—as if somehow reading her thoughts. Morrigan was tall for a woman of Fereldan origin, but not nearly as much as Saoirse. With her dark hair and pale skin, she was as bewitching as she was powerful—her magical aura a fount of seemingly endless, wild energy. Bethany almost felt like prey beneath the other woman’s gaze, and she averted her own nervously.

Thankfully, Morrigan made no comment about it, but Bethany did wince when she heard her suggest turning into bed early to Niamh. She and Kieran had arrived relatively late in the day after all, so they were no doubt tired from their travels. Niamh gave no objections, and they soon headed off to the woman’s personal quarters.

Bethany sighed soundlessly.

She was no stranger to infatuation. Her attraction to Leliana back in Lothering was a testament to that fact. Granted, it was also somehow deeply ironic that her commanding officer was now married to the same lay sister who had since gone on to become the Left Hand of Divine Justinia.

Sometimes she couldn’t help but think the Maker enjoyed toying with her in subtle, annoying ways. In any case, like with any other infatuation, she would just have to wait for the one she had on Niamh to run its course.

It couldn’t last forever after all.

---

Spoilers: it does.

---

During one of her occasional visits, Morrigan left Kieran temporarily in the care of Niamh to follow up on a magical lead involving some of her arcane research. As they weren’t needed outside of Vigil’s Keep for anything, Bethany also got to watch over him as well, and as she did, she brought up a question that she had long been curious over.

"You said you started the ritual with Morrigan when you were already a Warden, weren't you? I thought Wardens became barren after the Joining though?"

"Hm. That's the assumption, yes," Niamh said as she idly waved a stuffed griffon over Kieran, delighting the baby instantly as they laid on the floor together. "I’d been a Warden for a little over a year at that point. Perhaps it was still soon enough that infertility hadn’t affected me yet, or the spell did something to compensate for it."

Bethany just nodded as she looked over at the two of them. "I see bits of you in him."

"Do you?"

"Yes," she admitted easily enough. "There's his sweet nature, the way he seems far too clever for his own good at times, and how his eyes light up whenever he smiles or laughs."

Niamh chuckled, flattered over the assessment. "Morrigan and I are always arguing about it. I see more of her than me in him, but then she retorts that he’s retained my love of sweets and just about every known creature in existence." Her smile widened when tiny, grasping hands finally succeeded in pulling down the stuffed griffon in her hands, and Kieran wasted little time in snuggling the toy to his chest with a pleased hum.

"Do you regret not being able to see him whenever you wish?"

"Sometimes," Niamh answered, "but Morrigan’s mother…" She trailed off with a frown even as she ran a hand affectionately through her son’s hair. "She’s powerful, and she’s hurt her before. I can understand her caution. I’m willing to go years at a time without seeing them if it means they’re safe."

---

Morrigan eventually returns, and she takes Kieran with her to hide and do magical stuff as Empress Celene’s Arcane Advisor in Orlais as per canon.

Several months pass.

Although Niamh had professed to understanding the need for her little family’s relocation, the distance means that visits from them are now few and far in between. Bethany can see how much the other woman misses them and how she worries about their safety. She often catches Niamh distractedly playing with the ring on her necklace, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

As if anticipating that, Morrigan does send letters to Niamh every now and then, and Niamh’s entire expression lights up every time she receives them, learning how the other woman and Kieran are fairing in Orlais along with how their son continues to grow by leaps and bounds.

She cannot fault the happiness Niamh has found with Morrigan, but it also serves as a constant reminder of what life will never offer to Bethany.

Eventually, it gets to a point where Bethany grows resentful of their relationship because her own feelings for Niamh are just so strong by then. It causes her to lash out at Niamh one night in camp, angry with how calm and positive she always is despite knowing they all have a death sentence over their heads.

---

"What world do you live in that you see it through such an idyllic lens?! You can wax poetic about this life all you like! I never asked for this! I never asked for the darkspawn to steal what little I had from life only to be made the gatekeeper against the very things I despise most in this world!"

And Niamh was quiet for the longest time, having stopped mid-sentence over Bethany's sudden tirade. As the silence continued to drift over their camp, so too does a veil of sudden cold air, and Bethany realized far too late that she’d crossed a line with the other woman.

"No one does, really," Niamh admitted at last, the warmth gone from her voice. "Save for Saoirse and my brother, I lost most of my family, but the terrible thing was that it wasn’t even darkspawn that killed them or even the Blight. It was just one man’s petty greed for what he felt was owed to him. He pretended to be my family’s ally for decades, and under the cover of night, he used his men to slaughter nearly the entirety of my bloodline. My parents, my sister-in-law, my nephew… He was only eight when it happened, you see. Oren wanted to a warrior like my siblings. He was trying to defend his mother with one of those wooden swords young boys tend to play with, but against the likes of Howe’s men...”  She clenched her jaw. “They gutted him just like everyone else."

Another pause stifled the air between them even as Bethany stared at Niamh, horrified.

"Darkspawn are terrible, yes, but they’re not always as terrible as people," Niamh said, eyes narrowing as she looked into the fire. "We can be so far worse. If I'm at all patient, it's because I try to be kind in a world that offers so little of it. I want to believe it can be better than it was before. I want this to be a better place for our people, but I also want to ensure that tragedies like that never happen again. That the people caught in the middle—victims of simple circumstance—don’t have so suffer. If it means I must be a Grey Warden in addition to a mage, then I accept it. To do otherwise damns them as much as me."

With that, Niamh then gracefully rose to her feet and headed back to her own tent, leaving Bethany alone at the campfire.

The rest of their journey back to Vigil’s Keep passed without much conversation between them despite Bethany’s attempts. Niamh only said enough to give a suitable answer, but she never offered anything more beyond it. A vault door had seemed to close behind the cool grey of the eyes that had long enraptured her, offering little warmth. It was clear Bethany was no longer privy to the other woman’s innermost thoughts and feelings

Niamh wasn’t petty, however.

She still hunted when necessary so they didn’t starve, and as was long part of their agreement together, Bethany continued to cook whatever game she caught. Other than that, however, Niamh offered no friendly greetings in the morning when they woke or any words that allowed her to wander off peacefully into the Fade as she slept.

Bethany didn’t realize just how much she’d miss them.

---

When they finally return to Vigil's Keep, Saoirse is confused by how quiet and despondent her sister seems to be. Given how amiable Niamh normally is, she has a right to be concerned.

She pulls Bethany aside one night to ask what happened since they normally get along so well, but Bethany and Niamh haven't even spoken a word to one another since their return.

Bethany ruefully explains the situation, but she doesn't reveal the actual reason why she lashed out to begin with. As such, Saoirse just assumes it was just the usual stress of being a Grey Warden.

---

"Ah. It happens to the best of us, really. Here." Saoirse handed Bethany a tin box. Something Orlesian, according to the script on it. "Leliana’s currently away on business in Val Royeaux, but she sends care packages out to me whenever she can. This one's for Niamh though. It's tea," she explained with a laugh. "She loves this stuff more than anyone else I know."

Bethany still felt badly over the situation however.

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“Oh, Niamh’s too well-mannered to outright ignore someone,” Saoirse insisted with a brief snort. “If anything, she becomes more… Well. ‘Distantly-polite’ as my wife would describe it. Besides, I have it on good authority that she never turns down a good cup of tea.” A lazy, conspiratorial grin played on her lips then. “Especially if there’s a spoonful or two of honey in it.”

That eventually culminated in Bethany making tea for Niamh that evening, who had been locked away in her office as of late. Bethany was still nervous despite receiving permission to enter the room, allowing her to face the woman who she hadn’t seen in nearly a fortnight. Concern grew within her when she saw the shadows beneath Niamh’s eyes—a familiar indication that she had been working far too hard. She watched as Niamh struggled to blink the exhaustion from her eyes as she regarded her, but she otherwise said nothing, simply waiting to hear what Bethany required of her.

“I’m sorry," Bethany said at last, contrition clear in her voice. "This isn’t the life I would have wanted for myself, but I shouldn’t have lashed out at you when you were merely trying to help.” She held out the still-steaming mug of tea in her hands—the very thing Saoirse had convinced her would make for a suitable peace offering. “Here,” she offered with a tentative smile. “If you’re going to be working through the night again, you should at least drink something.”

For a time, Bethany believed the other woman was just going to remain silent. It would have been well-deserved given how terribly she behaved the other week, but then Niamh reached out to gently take the mug from her.

"Thank you," she said at last, the ice slowly melting behind those wintry eyes, and as they did, Bethany could feel the vice around her heart gradually unhinge itself in relief.

---

Things pretty much go back to normal between them.

Niamh and Bethany are back on the road again, especially after several reports of wandering darkspawn near the outskirts of a town.

As expected, however, Bethany's longing toward Niamh is still there—constant as an evening star. Even with the taint of death coursing through them, Niamh’s aura emanates with so much life—like a forest in winter, cool and refreshing with the scent of pine buried beneath its depths, waiting to burst into spring’s lively greenery with just the barest spark of magic.

It fascinates her.

She often wonders if such single-minded focus is a side effect of the Joining other than the enhanced physical strength and the ability to sense darkspawn. She feels a hunger that is never sated, a thirst that is never parched, and also…

Amber eyes wander over to where Niamh is disrobing to bathe in the nearby river, and she catches sight of the elegant play of muscles along her back before she studiously turns her gaze away. She feels the way her face burns even as she feels something else stir in her veins.

---

While still traveling, they get attacked by some hapless bandits, and while the two women aren't hurt, they manage to lose one of their tents to a stray grenade.

They end up sleeping in the remaining tent together, but it’s small, and they huddle together inside it for warmth against the pouring rain outside.

Bethany is surprised when she unexpectedly wakes up in Niamh’s arms—one is around her waist, and the other is curled behind her shoulders—which pull her closer in sleep. Sometimes she’s amazed at just how warm the other woman is, and although she knows she should pull away to avoid any awkward conversations in the morning, she can’t bring herself to do so. This is probably as close as she’ll ever get to the intimacy she desires with Niamh, and while the moment won’t last forever, it’ll be one more memory she can cherish—something no one else can ever steal from her.

Idly, Bethany listens to the rain outside—now a gentle pattering instead of the rage of a growing storm—falling against the material of the tent, and the sound is so rhythmic that she begins to doze off again.

---

Sometime after that, they receive a letter from Stroud, who requests their assistance with a matter out in the Free Marches. Saoirse stays behind to oversee things at Vigil’s Keep, which leaves Niamh and Bethany to travel across the Waking Sea with Nathaniel as additional support.

They arrive in Kirkwall several days before the qunari invasion begins in full, but not long after they do, Nathaniel’s reconnaissance around the city reveals something terrible:

Bethany’s mother was murdered.

Bethany is understandably upset, but Niamh and Nathaniel do their best to comfort her. They end up holding a small wake in honor of Leandra.

By the time they manage to rendezvous with Stroud, the qunari invasion has already begun, and they’re caught in the middle of it, leading to the Wardens running into Emrys Hawke and her companions.

Emrys obviously wants to talk to her little sister, but Bethany is resistant to the idea since her emotions are still riding high with the news of their mother’s death and the ever-present resentment regarding how she was made into a Warden without her say so on the matter.

Niamh recognizes Bethany’s tension and politely tells Emrys to leave the matter be for the time being. There is little point in having a conversation if one half of the party isn’t ready to have it after all.

Running on adrenaline, the warrior objects and tries to push her out of the way, but Bethany retaliates immediately on Niamh’s behalf. She presses her hand against her sister's chestplate and essentially shoves her back several steps, momentarily forgetting her Warden strength. Both Hawkes seem surprised by the ease in which she can do that.

---

“Bethany?” Emrys uttered in confusion, especially as her sister outright glared at her.

"You do not accost Warden-Constable Cousland that way!"

“Wait… ‘Cousland?’” Emrys looked over to the woman in question, taking in the obvious staff situated across her back. A wolf’s head ornament adorned the top of the weapon in exquisitely-sculpted silverite, and her eyes slowly widened in realization, remembering tales of the mage who could bend the very heavens to her whims. “Wait, you’re the Storm Wolf of Ferelden? Sister to the Hero of Ferelden?”

The woman merely gave a long-suffering sigh in response. “I suppose I was being too optimistic in assuming Leliana’s tales would’ve lost their weight this far past Ferelden’s borders…”

---

Despite the chaos ravaging itself across Kirkwall, the Wardens can’t stay to help. As such, they’re not there to see the end of the invasion. It isn’t until Bethany returns to Ferelden with the others that she receives a letter from Varric, saying that Emrys nearly died in her duel against the Arishok.

While Varric takes the time to mention that Emrys is recovering, and that her bravery led to her becoming Kirkwall’s Champion, the idea that Bethany had nearly lost the very last member of her family is so shocking that she's left inconsolable one night.

---

"I was such an absolute wretch to her before we left, and she nearly died afterward!” she wept when Niamh came to check on her in her room. “She’ll never forgive me!"

The other woman’s eyes are sympathetic as she held her in her arms. "Don’t be so sure."

"How can you say that?" Bethany demanded as she looked up at her, eyes red and swollen with grief.

"I’ve seen the way you talk about her, Bethany. The memories stir up more than just hurt within you,” she explained. “They light your eyes up with joy in remembrance of them. I’m sure she misses you and wishes things had gone differently. She wouldn’t have bothered sending all these letters to you otherwise over the years.

"My siblings did the same when I was still in Kinloch Hold, where I often wondered if my family had forgotten all about me. There were times I feared my being a mage would have meant their love for me would have gone away, but it didn’t. I received letters from them all the time—sometimes over the most asinine things like Saoirse’s warhound tossing bits of her armor into the pig pen." Niamh rolled her eyes, but Bethany could see the fondness in her gaze before they refocused on her.

"Your sister has asked for nothing in return even in the times where you never sent word back. I won’t tell you how to resolve this. You were right in saying that no one truly asks for this life, but I believe she only had the best of intentions when she entrusted your safety to Stroud. Trust in that if nothing else, and if you still find the matter wanting, tell her so." Something sad and brittle lingered on the smile she shared with her. "The what-ifs hurt more than the reality of things at times. No one deserves that."

---

Niamh helps to cheer Bethany up over the course of several weeks.

They’re off in a nearby town, investigating more sightings of darkspawn, and Niamh goes downstairs to pay the innkeeper for breakfast while Bethany packs up some of her belongings to continue their journey. When she reaches for her staff, she blinks, startled to find an ice flower blossoming on the end of it. She stares in surprise at the door the other woman had left through because there’s no way someone else could have done this.

It's almost like something out of a scene from one of those romantic tales Leliana used to tell her back in Lothering. She had thought them nonsense at first—that surely no one actually did such sweet things in real life—but now…

Bethany gently brushes her fingers over the beautifully-conjured petals and leaves, feeling the cool aura radiating from them.

Now she’s not so sure.

---

During their travels, they’re ambushed by darkspawn, and in the middle of the fighting, the ground manages to crumble beneath both women’s feet. The fall is long and painful as they slide down an old mine shaft, and soon they find themselves down in the Deep Roads. Unfortunately, it's an area they haven't charted yet, so they have no idea where they even are.

They have rations from the last time Niamh hunted and smoked some game, but they know it won't last forever. They can feel the press of darkspawn everywhere against their senses, and it's difficult to get any real bearing down in the tunnels because of it. The ambushes are sporadic throughout the days as they try to find their way back to the surface. They have taken to sleeping in brief shifts so they’re not caught unaware.

One fight lags on long enough that they have to retreat, but their enemies lead them right into the lair of a broodmother.

Bethany has never seen something so hideous in all her life, but when she turns briefly to Niamh, she’s disquieted to find the other woman looks more terrified than she's ever seen her. She barely has time to think over that before the darkspawn attack them again, but now they have the broodmother and her various tentacles to dodge as well.

The fight rages on for quite awhile, long enough that Bethany voices the thought they might never see Vigil's Keep again.

---

“No.”

"Niamh—"

"No!" she repeated firmly, glaring as she lashed out with an arm, incinerating an advancing line of darkspawn to their right. "I am getting you out of here! I swear it!"

You.

Not us.

What are you planning, Niamh? Bethany couldn't help but think worriedly.

Then she felt the sudden rush of magic—causing Bethany to almost stumble in place at the overwhelming sensation—as Niamh’s aura manifested itself more tangibly in an array of colors. Blinding arcs of lightning and lines of roaring flames raced across her form, and Bethany could see her own breath forming in rapid, exhausted puffs as the temperature inside the entire cavern seemed to drop even as the stone walls rattled ominously from the breadth of absolute magic being conjured.

The power of it was soon unleashed as Niamh slammed her staff end into the ground, allowing countless rays of energy to simply explode from her body. They radiated out like spectral hands of vengeance, and the cries of the darkspawn were nearly drowned out entirely as utter destruction rained down upon them. Each blast hit like deafening peals of thunder, and the echoes of them spanned for several long heartbeats, leaving Bethany’s ears ringing even after everything eventually fell silent.

As the dust and debris finally settled from the turbulent winds, she could see the other mage leaning heavily upon her staff, utterly exhausted. Each breath she took seemed to be a laborious effort, but Bethany watched as those eyes remained keenly alert to their surroundings, waiting to see if any of the darkspawn she had laid waste to would try and attack them again. They both tensed upon hearing the low, wailing groan of pain, and they looked to the far side of the cavern to see the broodmother still alive—albeit barely.

While already repulsive, it was now a macabre mass of flesh, bleeding sluggishly from the wounds inflicted by Niamh’s attack. Bloated skin bore severe burn marks, and entire chunks of flesh were missing. One of the broodmother’s arms had been severed completely, but the heat from one of the elemental attacks had unintentionally cauterized the fat stump even if Bethany grimaced upon seeing the pink-tinged bone that still protruded from it. The broodmother’s entire form seemed to slump back with what they assumed was her final breath, but then the sudden sound of earth breaking behind them alerted them far too late to a final danger.

Bethany turned her head just in time to see a lashing tentacle sprout from the ground, and her mind barely registered the sight of it before she heard the frantic call of her name along with warm hands pressing against her side.

"Bethany!"

As if time had slowed itself, she watched in horror as Niamh pushed her out of the tentacle’s swooping path, but in doing so, the other woman took the brunt of the attack entirely. Niamh was sent flying into one of the naturally-formed pillars of the cavern, impacting it hard enough that it broke at its center, raining rubble down upon the mage resting eerily still at its base until she was buried beneath it.

Bethany’s eyes remained fixed on the sight even as she shakily rose to her hands and knees. An overwhelming sense of disbelief overtook when her longtime partner didn't emerge at all out of the stone pile. In fact, there's a terrifying lack of anything in that direction.

Nothing of the taint in Niamh's blood.

No sound.

No magic.

Just... nothing.

Distantly, she could hear the half-dying moans of the broodmother somewhere beyond her peripheral vision. Although Bethany was all too aware of how dangerous her current situation still was, all she could feel was a staggering rush of absolute rage building inside her. It seemed to grow with every beat of her heart until she could hear it pounding inside her ears—a drumming sound of accusation over the fact that she had been powerless to help someone dear to her yet again.

It was her anger that gave birth to the sudden burst of power—whether a second wind or simply a dying gasp, she didn’t immediately know—but Bethany whirled to face the grotesque beast, magic already gathering within her hands. With an infuriated cry, she pressed her palms out, and she felt the immense displacement of air around her immediately as she summoned enough force magic to take up almost the entire space of the cavern. The pressure of it proved too much against the broodmother, and Bethany watched impassively as its enormous body was flung toward the far wall with enough violence that it was reduced to a grisly splatter of darkened blood, pulverized bone, and putrid meat.

With its death, Bethany felt the presence of darkspawn waiting beyond the cavern retreat even further, as if afraid of tempting her fury. Safe from any immediate threats, however, she wasted little time in rushing over to where she last saw Niamh. She used her hands and magic to try and dig her out beneath the rubble, but when she found her, fear took hold of her immediately when she realized the other woman wasn’t breathing anymore. Desperately, Bethany tried to use her healing magic in an attempt revive her, but to her utter dismay, the chest beneath her hands remained impossibly still.

“Oh, no…” she breathed. “No. No! You can’t be dead! Niamh, get up!”

But her cry fell on deaf ears.

Despite her best efforts, no matter how much healing she tried to force through the other woman’s veins, Niamh didn’t respond. As each minute continued to pass by in silence, Bethany began to wonder what she’d have to tell Morrigan if she ever made it back to the surface, let alone the little boy with Niamh’s kind smile. It would be such a terrible thing, she knew, informing them the woman they loved died trying to save her.

Just like everyone that ever entered her life.

Leaving before she even got the chance to give her goodbyes.

Bethany withdrew her healing magic and began conjuring lightning beneath her hands instead—the same way Niamh had taught her once upon a time—desperate for anything that could attempt to shock some life back into the other woman. Niamh’s body jolted with each burst of power, head lolling about along the dirt, but she still remained impossibly beyond Bethany’s reach—perhaps now wandering past the Fade and into the Maker’s embrace.

At the thought, her anguish soon gave way to anger.

“Damn you, you selfish wretch!” she shouted as she pressed her hand over the woman’s sternum with another pulse of electricity. “I never asked you to try and save my life! You don’t get to do this to me! You don’t get to just leave me here when I never had to chance to tell you everything! Not when you don’t even know I love y—”

Just as she went to jolt the other woman again, Bethany felt a hand firmly wrapping itself around her wrist.

Shocked, she looked up toward Niamh's face, especially as she heard a very weak cough. The other mage hadn't opened her eyes yet, but she saw how the still blue-tinged lips began to move—too soft for her to hear anything. Bethany lowered her head to listen more closely and soon heard a quiet question.

"...are you alright?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and fresh tears began to fill Bethany's eyes again in spite of herself.

Even after everything they had both suffered through, Niamh's first concern had still been solely for her.

With a shaky breath, she carefully curled herself up against Niamh’s form, crying silently even as she rested her hand against the other woman's stomach to continue and apply weak, healing magic.

That was how the other Wardens found them later.

"There they are."

Bethany didn’t pick her head up off the floor, but there was little mistaking Morrigan's distinct voice. Saoirse’s own followed soon after.

"I owe you my thanks for this, Morrigan."

“Thank your sister; I would not have been able to find her were she still not wearing the ring I gave her years ago.”

A weary chuckled greeted the mage’s words. “Ever the sentimental woman, my little sister…”

The sound of heavy footsteps treading closer caused Bethany to look up, and she could see Saoirse kneeling down next to them. The warrior’s face was worn with stress, but there was nothing but relief in her eyes as she saw them both together. "It appears I owe you my thanks as well, Bethany." She jerked her head up then, shouting out an order. "Get a litter for them now!"

"But I'm not nearly as injured," Bethany protested, drawing her hand away from Niamh’s body self-consciously, especially when Morrigan appeared and began to take over healing and stabilizing the woman’s condition with fresh magic.

"No," Saoirse admitted even as her lips lifted up into a tired smile. "But you and I both know what a terrible patient my sister is. I’ll be depending on you to make sure she behaves herself if she wakes up during our trek back to Vigil’s Keep.” She gently clapped a hand over Bethany’s shoulder. “Thank you. I owe you a debt.”

“Warden-Commander—”

“No. Niamh and I have lost enough in our lives. It would have hurt me to lose her as well.”

---

Niamh remains unconscious for several days as she recovers back at Vigil's Keep.

Bethany and Morrigan basically take turns looking after her.

Despite the other woman’s position as a member of Orlais’ Imperial Court, it seemed Morrigan returned to Ferelden after receiving a frantic letter from Saoirse, saying that Niamh and Bethany had been missing for several days following a routine mission.

As mentioned in the previous section, Morrigan gave Niamh a ring, which would allow her to find her were she ever in danger. It proved especially useful when Niamh and the other Wardens were imprisoned in Fort Drakon, where Saoirse essentially put her foot in her mouth and ruined their attempt to sneak Queen Anora out of the estate she had been held captive in.

I believe the ring is only canonically available if a player is in a romance with Morrigan. However, I’m headcanoning that because she held Niamh in such high esteem, she gave it to her anyway.

Kieran is also present at Vigil’s Keep because there’s no way Morrigan was leaving him behind in Orlais. He’s about five years old at this point, and he’s grown to inherit both his mothers’ looks. A crown of dark, loose curls sits atop his head much like Niamh’s, and he even fashions a forelock like hers, which hangs in front of his right eye. His gaze is a piercing shade of gold reminiscent to Morrigan’s own. As a possessor of an Old God Soul, he’s also begun to speak cryptically at times, which is understandably jarring to those around him.

Bethany happens upon one such conversation by accident, and she immediately pauses in the doorway when she sees Morrigan and Kieran standing at Niamh’s bedside.

“Sire was caught within the paths of the Fade, Mother. She heard the voices of old ghosts calling to her, but she didn’t follow them.”

Morrigan indulgently runs a hand through her son’s hair. “Indeed; she did not.”

“She missed them though, but she still returned to us.”

“Of course. Why would she desire an eternity without you?” she asked with a fond smile, causing Kieran to giggle.

“That’s not why, Mother! Not completely.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She would have missed the Sunshine too much. She’s been following her warmth for years. It would have hurt her to be without it.”

Kieran’s words pull at Bethany oddly, but she soon pushes them out of her mind and quietly walks away, feeling too much like an intruder upon the small family.

Thankfully, Niamh regains consciousness not long afterward, and everyone is understandably relieved by this news.

As per usual, however, Niamh proves herself to be an exceedingly stubborn patient, but perhaps wanting to set a better example for Kieran after her near-death experience, she remains in bed for the duration of her recovery. The other woman doesn’t seem to mind too much, especially given that her son continues to keep her company, telling her of the various odd things he’s seen around Orlais and the even odder people.

After several weeks under Morrigan’s watchful eye, the witch begrudgingly says that Niamh's okay to begin light duty around the Keep, relieving the other mage immensely. She goes out herb-gathering, an excuse just to get out of the fortress, and Bethany volunteers to go with her.

Things are quiet between them for a time as they begin picking up elfroot to place in the shared basket between them. Their conversations as of late haven't been of anything too substantial. A good thing, Bethany thinks, considering her feelings for her and how close she’d been to revealing them. Soon, however, they're caught in the middle of a light rain shower, and Bethany says they should head back. She begins to lead their way out of the forest when Niamh’s words stop her in her tracks.

---

"I was waiting for you to say it again, you know."

Bethany looked over her shoulder in surprise to still see Niamh standing in the middle of the clearing, her gaze expectant. “What?” she asked nervously.

"When I nearly died, I heard you say something… significant to me,” she revealed, causing Bethany’s heart to pound as she stared at her in disbelief. “However, when I recovered and you never repeated those words again, I thought it might have been little more than a fever dream of mine." Niamh's smile turned sad then when Bethany said nothing else to her words. "Perhaps it was after all... I’m sorry. I’ve made this rather awkward then, haven’t I?” She took a few steps closer, reaching toward the basket of herbs Bethany still held in her hands. “Here, let me—”

But Bethany just let it drop to the ground before she reached out to grab the collar of Niamh’s cloak. The other woman seemed taken aback, but before she can even begin voicing a question, Bethany pulled her forward to kiss her desperately in the rain, swallowing her gasp of surprise.

As far as first kisses went, it was a touch awkward as their teeth clicked together, lips mashed between them. Bethany felt a moment of panic as Niamh pulled back, but before the urge to run away in mortification could overtake her, a warm palm pressed itself against the back of her neck, keeping her in place. There was the brush of knuckles as they ran along her jaw, and Bethany was just able to catch the silver of Niamh’s eyes before all thought fled from her mind upon feeling the soft press of the other woman’s mouth on hers.

Bethany followed into the easy guidance being offered, and they both soon settled into a comfortable rhythm that sent pleasurable shivers down her spine. She felt light-headed with giddy delight, and her hands reached out to hold onto Niamh’s hips, helping to ground herself there, as their kiss continued. There was a soft sound as Niamh sighed contentedly into her mouth, as if she had been waiting just as long for this moment between them.

The thought seemed almost too impossible to comprehend, especially when she knew Niamh was committed to someone else. As such, Bethany pulled away first despite the sound of protest it caused. Despite her resolve, Bethany was reluctant to pull away from Niamh entirely, so she settled for gently leaning her forehead against the other mage as they panted quietly in the rain.

"I'm so sorry," she said breathlessly, practically speaking the words against Niamh’s lips. "It wasn't my intention to interfere with your relationship with Morrigan."

As close as they were, there was little mistaking the clear confusion in the eyes across from hers. "'With Morrigan?'" Niamh repeated. "What does she have anything to do with us?"

"But… I thought—” Her brows drew together in consternation. “Aren’t you both together?"

"What? No," Niamh answered, almost amused by the idea. "When we laid together for the ritual, it was an agreement of mutual benefit meant only for that night. She's not—Well." An exhale of breath escaped her in the form of laughter. "Morrigan's admitted she's not interested in women—or anyone, really—in quite that way, but none of the male Wardens with us at the time dared to lay with her even if it meant sparing us all from death. She trusted me, and I her. I consider Morrigan one of my dearest friends, and we share Kieran together as a result of that night, yes, but we are certainly not bound together as others seem to believe."

And Niamh’s answer suddenly changed everything.

What Bethany had been feeling, what was now possible between her and Niamh...

She couldn’t help but smile as she finally realized she could have a bit of the happiness she’d always wanted for herself.

---

So everyone knows that they’re a couple after that.

Niamh becomes more overt in the romantic things she does for her—the very same things Bethany had thought were the woman simply being thoughtful. She finds out that Niamh had apparently been interested in her for awhile and had actually been ready to confess her feelings a few years ago, but their first argument, where Bethany had accused her of being too idealistic, had stemmed the thought immediately.

Niamh had been understandably heartbroken by the words, which was why she’d had been so despondent for weeks following the incident, believing Bethany had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. The apology in her office later had restored their friendship, and while Niamh had been disappointed it likely would never evolve into anything more beyond that, she was still determined to be a good friend to her if nothing else. 

Bethany’s completely exasperated at the idea that they could have been together long before now, but she realizes it was likely better this way.

She had needed time to get over her anger and resentment regarding her life as a Warden.

She needed time to get past her guilt and the complicated thoughts regarding herself and her faith.

And she needed time to grow into herself and discover who she was as a person.

She’s grateful that Niamh’s been so kind and patient over the years, and Bethany finds great joy in the new facet of their relationship together.

They’ve kissed and been involved in heavy makeout sessions around Vigil’s Keep—much to the exasperation of their colleagues—but barring the incident that led to Kieran’s conception, Niamh’s been celibate for years, and canonical dialogue in DA2 reveals that Bethany’s pretty much a virgin. As such, she’s understandably very shy and nervous about the whole thing. However, she knew every part of her would be in good hands with Niamh when they finally reached that point.

Their first time together takes place several months after their first kiss, where Niamh tries her utmost to make it a memorable thing for them. She takes Bethany to a grove they frequent together outside of Vigil’s Keep for a midnight picnic. The moon is full, and the skies are clear, revealing an endless sea of stars. Little fireflies dance over the surface of the lake while they sit on the grass along its shore.

It’s a casual reminder that for all their hardship, life goes on and finds a way through a magic all of its own.

They stargaze for and handfeed each other little bits of food in between kisses, but soon things start getting a little more heated. Niamh gently tugs Bethany onto her lap, who follows willingly, settling her knees on either side of the woman’s hips. Bethany takes some initiative of her own, pushing at Niamh’s chest slowly until she lowers herself against the grass, and then…

---

Bethany’s breath caught in her throat upon seeing Niamh’s features haloed by the soft glow of the little fireflies. Normally pale eyes had darkened at their edges with both pleasure and interest as she regarded her, leaving Bethany flushed, especially as she realized she doesn’t quite know what to do from there on out.

Perhaps having sensed that, Niamh reached up to gently run a thumb along the corner of her mouth, and Bethany barely resisted the urge to press her lips against the pad in a kiss as slim fingers then went to cup her cheek gently.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” Niamh reassured as she brushed a few strands of Bethany’s hair behind an ear. “I quite like kissing you.”

But Bethany did want to.

She knew Niamh had more experience with sexual intimacy, and she worried she couldn’t be able to compare against the woman’s past paramours. There was no expectation in those starlit eyes however. Niamh was as relaxed as she had been when they first started, and Bethany knew she would have been more than content to lay with her beneath the stars if that was all she desired. She was always considerate with her feelings, never pressing her to do more than she was ready.

Thus, Bethany knew Niamh would be patient with her during their first time together.

“If I asked, would you show me what to do?” she whispered tentatively, and she watched as the corners of those lips turned up into soft smile.

“Always,” Niamh answered, gently tugging Bethany’s hand toward the buckle holding the front of her leather and steel-riveted brigandine closed. “Here. Help me out of this first please.” 

From there, Bethany quickly realized it all wasn’t quite as simple as the tawdry novels Isabela used to loan her made it out to be. Nothing really prepared for the warmth of the flesh beneath her fingertips as she gradually disrobed her lover of the layers that made up their Warden regalia. Fortune favored the bold, she knew, and she experimented by pressing kisses against skin as more was revealed to her. She smiled against Niamh’s sternum—pleased—when she heard the exceedingly rare quiver in her voice.

As promised, however, the other woman continued to give suggestions on what types of touches would best give pleasure, but she also allowed Bethany to set the pace of whatever she felt most comfortable with. With each encouraging whisper against her ear, each caress and rock of her hand became more confident. When Niamh shuddered beneath her for the first time—the barest hint of magic curling against her own—as she reached her peak, Bethany was convinced that she had never felt more triumphant.

And she didn’t think she had ever felt so unfettered when Niamh later returned the favor by kissing a line of fire down her bare body. Those mist-grey eyes never left her own gaze though. Bethany had long known how attentive the other mage could be. As their lead tactician, there was always a studious quality in how she approached anything set before her.

Feeling the full magnitude of that attention focused solely upon her, however, was another matter entirely. Niamh stared at her as if she had hung the very moon and the infinite tapestry of stars into the night sky. It was like she was her very reason for drawing breath, and the thought of that brought forth a stunning wash of emotions over her as she saw the clear reverence in those eyes—so much so that she couldn’t help the tears beading themselves across her lashes nor her soft, surprised exhale of laughter when Niamh leaned up to gently kiss them away.

It was only when she assured her lover that she was ready to continue that Niamh returned to her exploration. The woman was committed to learning every part of her, gauging every physical response—the touches that made her moan breathlessly or sigh in contentment with the press of lips against her skin—before reacting accordingly. She felt that dedication most vividly as a warm mouth settled between her thighs and began working itself thoroughly there.

Bethany couldn’t help but break eye contact with Niamh as she threw her head back against the cool grass, lost to the new but pleasant sensations coursing their way through her body. Her hips seemed to move of their own volition, especially as the almost overwhelming heat of a tongue pressed itself flat and lapped languidly at her.

After a time, it felt like she was freefalling, and she blindly reached out toward Niamh. One hand sank itself easily into the tousled waves of raven-black hair, but with the other, Bethany found slim fingers gently intertwining themselves with her own. There was strength and reassurance within the warmth of that grasp—a steady tether to ground her—even as Niamh continued with her ministrations, quickly unraveling the foundations of her world.

Were you the answer this entire time?

Were you the one whom my heart was always waiting for?

Bethany found her answer just as her climax crested over her.

---

The next scene takes place several months after Niamh’s and Bethany’s first time together but just before the Kirkwall Rebellion.

Niamh heads over to Amaranthine to see her aunt, Eithne Mac Eanraig, since she's the Arlessa there.

Now, here’s where I’m veering off from canon.

Per the events of Awakening, the Warden ends up becoming the Warden-Commander, and for their services during the Fifth Blight, Vigil’s Keep along with the entire arling of Amaranthine was given to the Grey Wardens. The fortress and the territory originally belonged to the Howes, but after Rendon Howe’s betrayal, all titles and properties were stripped away from them. As such, the Warden-Commander would also become the Arl or Arlessa of Amaranthine.

Per my headcanon though, Saoirse felt that she couldn’t tend to both her duties as a Warden while also ruling over the arling. Thus, she suggests to King Alistair to let her aunt oversee it instead.

While Eithne is technically my own creation, it was canonical that Eleanor had three siblings prior to marrying Bryce Cousland. All the children of Bann Fearcher Mac Eanraig—also known as the Storm Giant—were exceedingly skilled raiders although Eleanor was the most infamous of them. Still, I headcanon that Eithne’s own prowess allowed her to take over as head of the family and their impressive fleet after her father’s death sometime before the events of DAO.

I also headcanon that the Mac Eanraigs and their fleet proved instrumental during the Fifth Blight, allowing desperately-needed supplies to travel to the country without fear of them being intercepted by pirates. When the reconstruction of Ferelden began in full following the defeat of the Archdemon, Eithne opted to expand the services of her family’s fleet, offering to escort any incoming and also outgoing cargo ships. This allowed trade to flourish in Ferelden since the threat of piracy was reduced greatly against the might of the former raiding family and their respective crews. With goods being consistently transported and received, it led to the otherwise pricey import and export tariffs being lowered significantly.

It expanded the influence of the Mac Eanraigs considerably to say the least, and while they were of minor nobility compared to the Couslands, the family was already well-respected for their long connection to the Storm Coast and their role in the Fereldan Rebellion as well as the Fifth Blight.

As such, no objection was given by Ferelden’s Bannorn when the Mac Eanraigs were consequently raised further in nobility by the decree of King Alistair and Queen Anora, allowing Eithne to officially be named Arlessa to the city of Amaranthine.

---

"Aunt Eithne," Niamh began, walking into her office, "may I have access to the castle's forge?"

The older woman was sat behind her desk, looking through various reports when she glanced up at her. Kind, weathered features warmed instantly. "Ah, there's my wee Storm Pup," she said as she rose to her feet to meet her. "You know you’re welcome to anything within the castle, lass. I take it that blacksmith of yours is being stubborn at Vigil’s Keep again?"

As per usual, Niamh found herself looking up at her aunt as she rounded the edge of her desk. While her late mother Eleanor had been roughly her own size, the Mac Eanraigs as a whole towered over most people with their intimidating height and broad-shouldered frames—traits that Fergus and also Saoirse inherited as they grew into adulthood. In her youth, Niamh remembered that her Aunt Eithne had also possessed her mother’s pale blonde hair, but it had since turned silver with age and was now kept in a neat braid that dangled in front of her right shoulder. She imagined that Saoirse would likely resemble their aunt greatly in looks over the next few decades.

…provided they find a cure against the Calling first, of course.

Morrigan’s arcane research had turned up several possibilities, but the latest one she’d found seemed especially promising. Still, Niamh put the thought from her mind momentarily to answer her aunt’s question.

"You and I both know Master Wade won’t allow anyone to go near his forge. He’d pout for weeks on end before we could convince him to resume work again,” she said dryly before shrugging. “Just as well, I suppose. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. What I have in mind is more of a personal project."

Dark grey eyes blinked. "Oh?" she intoned curiously.

"It's... Well." Niamh shifted from foot to foot, a tad nervous to put her thoughts into words. "I'm making matching torcs for Bethany and I, so—oof!"

No sooner after she had stated her purpose did Niamh unexpectedly found herself drawn up into a crushing hug by her aunt, who lifted her clear off her feet with the force of it.

"Haha!" Eithne crowed with delighted laughter as she twirled her about. "Wait until I tell your uncles about this! Why, it’s been ages since we’ve had a wedding in the family!"

"We had one a year ago for Fergus and Olithia," Niamh corrected hoarsely as she tried to wriggle out of her aunt's grip to little avail. Corded muscles built over a lifetime at sea ensured the woman’s strength was nigh unbreakable. "And there was another for Saoirse and Leliana before that."

"Details, wee niece, details," she brushed aside when she placed Niamh back on her feet again, placing large hands over each of her shoulders with a grin. "Honestly, I was half-convinced my ashes would be scattered across the sea before I saw my last niece be married off! Dermot!" she called out loudly beyond the walls of office to her second-in-command, leaving Niamh wincing from the sheer volume of it. "Break out the casks! We’re celebrating tonight!"

Niamh merely sighed, somehow glad that Bethany was currently away from Vigil’s Keep with Nathaniel to tend to a matter out in another seaside province. There was no way she’d be able to surprise her with a proposal otherwise.

---

Bethany didn't know what to really expect when Niamh took her out to their favored grove, but then she was offered a… necklace of some sort. It was thick and sturdy but exquisitely-crafted. It formed an incomplete circle, but there was no clasp holding both ends together. As she took the necklace into her own hands, she found there was a certain pliability to it as she stretched the space between the twin, silverite wolf heads open a bit more.

"I spent weeks getting the details just right," Niamh admitted. "The hardest part was finding the perfect bits of citrine to match your eyes," she added, pointing to the small, gemstone orbs held in the maw of each wolf.

"You made this for me?" Bethany asked, awed.

"Yes. It’s a custom from the maternal side of my family. They’re generally gifted to those of status or individuals who have achieved great deeds. The more bands woven together designate one's importance." Niamh's expression turned somewhat sheepish then. "I don't think it needs to be said that I think highly of you."

Bethany looked at the thick braiding and saw that there were at least five bands wound together in a cord and then welded together.

"I..." Niamh wet her lips briefly, as if caught beneath sudden nervousness. "I realize marriage is usually just a matter of settling titles and heirs, but I believe you know by now that my family tends to eschew commonly-held norms. As such, I would consider it a great honor if you were to become my wife. As for anything official—a wedding for instance—we needn't concern ourselves with it right away. Not if you don't wish to certainly." Silver-colored eyes rolled themselves. "Honestly, my family uses any type of excuse available to throw a celebration. They’ll likely still drink the night away, knowing that I’ve finally settled down with someone."

Bethany couldn’t help but laugh at that. "They were that invested, were they?"

"Before you, they had a tendency to think I was more married to my duty within the Order, and I can’t say that were not wrong in thinking so."

"And that’s changed?"

"Well... I was managing day by day as well as any of our comrades, but I won’t lie in saying that there came a point when you were all I could ever think about in the many moments in between."

It was… quite the confession.

In an instant, all the stories her mother had ever told her of romance paled in comparison to this moment.

"Yes," Bethany said at last, watching as the ghostly-grey eyes across from her widened, but there was little hiding the hope building within their depths.

"Yes?"

"Yes to the—" She stumbled a bit over the word. "—torcs, you said?” Bethany asked in clarification, earning her a nod along with a very relieved sigh. “I don’t want a ceremony.” She bit her lip as she stared down at the thickly-braided necklace. “At least not just yet, but I like the idea of the promise these contain.”

“You would like to have your sister here when the time comes,” Niamh deduced understandingly. “Very well.”

“You can wait?”

A very warm smile burnished beautiful features that she had long fallen in love with so many years ago. “A Chuisle Mo Chroí,” she began, voicing an endearment that never ceased to make her heart flutter, “for you, I would gladly wait a thousand Ages and more.” (Writer’s note: A Chuisle Mo Chroí is phonetically pronounced Ah Khush-lah Muh Kree and means “Pulse of My Heart.”)

The words earned her a heartfelt kiss of gratitude. If Niamh noticed Bethany was trembling, she said nothing of it. In fact, they both had little to say at all as they slowly lowered themselves to the grass and surrendered themselves to the night and the promise of everyday thereafter.

---

The Kirkwall Rebellion still happens in this verse, and because Saoirse's busy butting heads with the higher-ups at Weisshaupt, she sends word to Niamh, asking her to go to Kirkwall to provide Leliana backup if things get bad. Bethany is concerned as well about the well-being of her sister Emrys, and she asks to go with her. Niamh, of course, can't really deny her anything, so they both take the fastest ship across the Waking Sea.

---

"There you are," Bethany declared when she managed to come across her sister and her companions despite the chaos around them. She settled her staff over her back, walking through the tangle of defeated Templars around her to meet them. "We’ve been looking everywhere for you. I'd almost feared you were dead."

Emrys hadn’t expected Bethany’s presence in the city, but she’s beyond elated to see her. At her words, the warrior merely preened. "As if they'd be able to best me. And, uh, what’s this about 'we?'" Emrys asked, confused. “Did you bring the other Wardens with you?”

“Just one.”

As if attuned to her thoughts, Niamh made her entrance then by Fadestepping through a handful of Templars—who had arrived on scene as backup—freezing them in their tracks. She and Bethany had momentarily split up to try and cover more ground in search of Emrys.

Bethany arched a brow at her sister while gesturing toward her lover with an emphatic wave. "You remember Warden-Constable Cousland, don’t you?"

Emrys had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed as she recalled their last meeting, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she regarded Niamh. "Oh. Yes. Uh, about the last time we met—"

But Niamh seemed amused more than anything, waving aside the apology graciously. “Bygones, Champion. No need to worry yourself about the past. My sister’s a warrior as well; I’ve fared worse on the rare occasion."

"In any case, Sister, if you need help, we’ll gladly give it."

“Really?”

“Yes. I…” Bethany swept a bit of hair behind her ear nervously, but as Niamh settled alongside her, offering her wordless support, she continued on. “I wanted to apologize for what happened down in the Deep Roads and for how we parted the last time I was here. You saved my life, but I couldn’t see past my own anger back then. I’m sorry,” she whispered, contrite. “I should have said it long before now. You’re all I have left of our family, so if you need help against the Templars, say the word.”

Emrys looked beyond thrilled at the prospect of having her at her side again. “I’m certainly not going to turn away help now of all times, but…” She shot a look of confusion over toward Niamh. “I thought Wardens weren’t to involve themselves in political matters?"

The other mage merely sighed. “While true, that follows a line of policy that my sister and I strenuously object to, especially given the matter involved here. She and I will deal with the leadership at Weisshaupt later if need be." Slim shoulder shrugged themselves then. "Of course, even if my sister-in-law weren't nearby, Bethany wanted to help, and that was good enough reason for me to be here."

Emrys’ dark brows rose at the claim, and she immediately turned a searching gaze over toward Bethany, who couldn’t help but turn her own away, flushing somewhat.

"Yes… Niamh and I are a bit of a package deal these days."

Unfortunately, the minor shift in movement allowed for something else to be revealed, and Isabela took notice of it immediately as her eyes darted toward the area of her neck just beneath the collar of her uniform.

“Wait… is that a torc?" she asked, brows raising, impressed.

“A what?" Emrys asked, flustered, especially when she saw the matching one that Niamh was also wearing.

“It's a little bit of tradition from my mother’s side of the family,” Niamh explained. “They’re beautifully-crafted pieces of jewelry, but they can be as symbolic as rings, especially in the ceremonial sense."

"'Rings?'" Emrys parroted with a choke. “‘Ceremon—’” The warrior paled instantly as she realized the implication, shakily pressing her hand against a nearby wall to steady herself when she began swaying in place. “Oh, Maker’s breath… I think—I need a moment,” she murmured, and Bethany watched—concerned—when Emrys practically folded in over herself, working to catch a breath. After a time, Emrys’ comically-wide blue eyes turned over to Niamh. “You’re married to my baby sister?"

"Engaged, technically," Niamh answered, blinking owlishly at her reaction. “I proposed to her before we left Ferelden."

---

Annnnd then Saoirse shows up because she got worried about Leliana, and she and Emrys get along like peas in a pod. They’re exceedingly competitive with one another though...

---

“Hah!” Saoirse crowed, grinning smugly at Emrys as she rested the flat of her greatsword along her shoulder. “Is that the best Kirkwall’s Champion can do? I managed to neatly cleave my opponent in half.”

Emrys merely scowled, matching pace with Saoirse as they marched toward The Gallows. “Only because I helped! Besides, that strike wouldn’t have held against him if he had a shield as well!”

“Yes, it would have!”

“Lies!” Emrys scoffed. “It would have been caught halfway through the shield before you would have been able to reach his armor!“

“Not with the proper leverage it wouldn’t have!”

As they argued heatedly about sword techniques, Niamh and Bethany shared a long-suffering glance with one another before moving on ahead of their respective sisters.

“Warriors…”

“Indeed.”

---

Eventually, this all culminates in that huge battle at the end of DA2, where Meredith is defeated. As per canon, it becomes clear that it’s no longer safe for Emrys and her companions to remain within the city without eventually facing possible repercussions from the Chantry. As such, they begin scattering to the winds not long after the end of the rebellion.

---

"You could come with us, you know," Emrys suggested.

Bethany looked over to where her sister stood next to Isabela, ready to board the ship that would take them to Antiva. Emrys’ expression was almost painfully hopeful, but Bethany knew it wasn't meant to be. Although she had resented it once upon a time, she had a duty to the Wardens, and she would not easily abandon it. She said as much to her sister.

"No. Niamh currently seeks a cure that affects the lives of every Warden."

"A cure for the Calling?” she asked, surprised. “Is that even possible?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. She is easily the cleverest person I’ve ever met though. If there is a solution, she will be the most likely one to find it, and I will not stand to be apart from her."

"I see.” Emrys rubbed the back of her neck, shoulders slumping somewhat. “So… this is goodbye again."

It was admittedly a bittersweet feeling, knowing that this had been the first time in years they had seen one another and it would likely be several more yet before they would meet again.

"For now,” she answered quietly. “You have your life, Sister, and now…" She glanced over at Niamh, who was talking to the captain of a ship heading back to lands far to the west—ones that had never been touched by the Blight, according to Morrigan. “I have mine.”

Emrys followed her gaze. “You seem happier."

"I am."

“That’s all I ever wanted for you, you know? Just to know that you were happy.”

“I know that now." Her smile turned more genuine as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around Emrys, hugging her for all she was worth. "I wish the same upon you always. Safe travels to you and Isabela, Sister."

---

And as mentioned in the bullet points up above, they spend several years traveling abroad. Some days are harder than others as they meet their fair share of challenges, but Niamh and Bethany support each endlessly through it all.

They both return to Ferelden several years after the Trepasser DLC when they’ve found a cure for the Calling. With the taint purged from their bodies, they’re guaranteed the long life that would have otherwise been denied to them. As such, Niamh and Bethany finally get married—torcs gleaming bright—as Leliana as Divine Victoria officiates the wedding.

---

And that’s pretty much it.

I have about 20 pages of random scenes I’ve yet to elaborate on for this AU, including one for the huge battle at the end of DA2, so while I don’t see it as being nearly as long as OtSttCA, it’ll likely make for quite the lengthy read when I finally get a chance to work on it properly.

Still, if this verse interests you, leave me a like, a comment, or just swing by my inbox to tell me your thoughts! Until next time, readers! Take care!

#dragon age 2 #bethany hawke #female warden/bethany hawke #female cousland/bethany hawke #fanfic #my writing #OTP: In Search of Silver Linings #lee's au ideas #if bioware's too much of a fucking coward to write any version of Bethany a happy ending then i'll write all of them! #we respect bethany hawke endlessly on this blog!

[archived-gtronpa-account]

you mind writing anything with shuichi and kokichi? i just love how you write them iejfjdkdij

Tysm bby 🥺🥺 I too love writing those losers pfpfpfpf

(sorry this took so long btw!! at this point ur prolly thinking your ask got eaten by tumblr bsbsbsbs writer's block just hit me HARD)

____

Word count: 2800

Summary: The participants of the killing game stay away from Kokichi, and big villain Kokichi antagonizes himself. Meanwhile, Shuichi just wants to have a talk.

____

After Monokuma's new motive, everyone agreed that Kokichi had to be the mastermind. It didn't help that even the boy himself pushed the idea on to his classmates. Shuichi didn't buy into the obvious lie.

The motive put Kokichi at a severe disadvantage; he couldn't access the main school building, the dorms— really, he couldn't get inside any building. Not only that, but he was much easier to spy on and sneak up to. Still, Shuichi could see why it was so easy for his peers to think of Kokichi as the villain hiding among them; on surface level, it would make sense for the mastermind to put himself in a position of power to strike fear and force the killing game to start, and somehow making himself grow taller than every building overnight seemed like a good way to do that.

Shuichi's footsteps were slow with reluctance as he walked through the courtyard. Kaito and Maki wouldn't let him go talk to Kokichi if they knew— at least not alone, but they didn't have to know nor find out. The three of them had already separated long ago after they were done with training, and come to think of it, he hadn't met anyone else wandering out on his way, besides Ryoma who hung around the dorms. He was glad no one would question him, but nervous at the idea of having little to no witness should something happen that night.

Kokichi was thankfully awake, sitting behind the main building and staring hard at his checkered scarf that had for some reason been laid out on the ground. Shuichi felt even more hesitant to break whatever odd thing was going on. All of a sudden, he remembered why he was so nervous; Kokichi looked much, much more intimidating when he could grab anyone in a fist and dangle them twenty feet above ground. Shuichi decided he could try to talk to him another time, and spun on his heels to retreat when a voice made him freeze on the spot.

"My beloved detective! I was just thinking about you~"

When said detective looked over his shoulder, he found a giant Kokichi peering down at him with a radiant smile, and he somehow found himself regretting both his decision to come and to leave.

"Kokichi, ah… Wh-what were you thinking?"His hand unconsciously reached for the hat on his head to pull it further down, and he didn't miss how Kokichi's eyes flickered to the hat and reflected something that vanished too fast for Shuichi to read into.

"Nothing, nothing! Just thinking that you're basically my best target to kill," almost too easily, his smile stretched into a familiar leer, "An investigation without our dearest, coolest detective just wouldn't go the same. Besides, no one could suspect me of killing my beloved, so you're my ticket to get out of this hell school! Ah, or maybe I could bury your dead body so that there would be no body discovery and no class trial, only the pain and despair of loosing yet another classmate. How's that sound?"

What the— that was harsh, and quick, almost instantaneous. Kokichi was definitely on edge, all the more reasons not to talk to him. Still…"Please don't joke about that," Shuichi pulled his hat further down, silently apologizing to Kaede for still being this weak after the death of so many of his friends. He didn't dare look up to the large face of the evil leader.

A beat passed, then another, and when nothing more happened and the boy thought nothing more would happen and he would better leave already, "… Sheesh, fine. I'm sorry you're so sensitive, Shuichi."

"A-ah," the sudden mood swing caught him off guard. Kokichi's voice had fallen much lower and quieter than its usual childish high pitch. "It's fine." He still didn't dare look up, instead focusing his gaze on the scarf that laid on the ground. "I… What were you doing?"

"Oh, this? Nothing, really, just lil' old me playing games with lil' old myself. Hey, maybe I won't kill Saihara if he beats me at a game of chess!" Without looking up, he could feel the giant boy shift and lean above him and saw his shadow stretch until it engulfed him.

"Wha- I didn't- I only wanted to talk a bit."

"Wha-? Ah? I did-didn't- I only want to play a game. So really, it's your choice."

There was really no arguing with him. Maybe Shuichi could get him to talk if he accepted to play with him for a bit. "Alright, but," he stepped closer up, inspecting the scarf. It had been folded into a sixty four squares chessboard, but, "How are we playing without pieces?"

"You just have to imagine real hard that they're there, and suddenly you can see them right in front of you! I also hope you know the algebraic notation, since we'll be needing it." Shuichi tried to ignore the unnerving feeling of the ground faintly shaking under his feet as Kokichi shifted and fidgeted on his spot like an overly excited child.

"I think I do, but doesn't this sounds a little too hard?"

"Geez, Shuichi, I didn't think you of all people would have trouble imagining what's not there. You look like the kid in middle school who only talked to his imaginary friends. Besides, games are always more fun on hard mode anyway." Shuichi sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he was about to waste precious sleep hours playing an impossible game of chess with a giant clown. He stepped closer still and positioned himself in front of the makeshift gameboard, then glanced up to Kokichi. Instead of the mocking smirk he'd expected, he was only met with a big, almost amused grin and eyes sparkling with excitement. Shuichi looked down again, some of the previous tension leaving his body. "Alright, I'll start, since black fits your aesthetic better. E-four."

And if the 'game' itself wasn't already hard enough, Shuichi couldn't, for the life of it, stay focused with how fidgety Kokichi was being. His fingers hammered down on the ground incessantly and his head rocked left and right the same way Angie's would, both motions sending faint vibrations in the ground under Shuichi's feet. He didn't get a break either when it was the others turn to play, since he'd state his next move without missing a beat— almost as if he'd already known what Shuichi would do. It was uncanny yet interesting to get an insight on how the supreme leader's brain worked, only it would have been better if it had happened before the weird growth motive, when Shuichi didn't have to fear he'd get snatched up in the air at any given moment.

Sometime in the next hour, he ended up taking his hat off to help him focus and get a clearer look at the gameboard; gameboard which he stood in the middle of, in an attempt to help him keep track of the pieces' placement. He frowned, spun around and looked left and right as he tried to remember where he'd left his rook. So focused and lost in the game, he failed to notice when his foot got caught in the fabric; on the next step he took, he fell back on his back. Startled and faces reddening, he fumbled to get back on his feet, when a large face came in his view and stopped him in his track.

"Nishishi~ Shuichi, you're really funny being like this." An encore of the insect incident; Kokichi's upside-down face loomed over him, so close he could faintly feel his warm breath ruffling his hair. Shuichi instinctively reached for a hat that wasn't there, before shuffling his hand back down in shame. He wished it had been there for reassurence, but ultimately decided it was for the best that he couldn't hide behind it. He couldn't be anything but intimidated by Kokichi when he towered over him like that and could so easily do so much, but he didn't want to be scared when he knew that Kokichi, despite all the awful things he was (and he was a lot of awful things) wouldn't go far with his games and wouldn't use his new stature to his advantage.

"It's…" he took a second to breath, regain his composure and look the giant supreme leader in the eyes, "It's hard to remember how the board is set after every move," he got up and brushed himself off. Why can you do it so easily? He wouldn't expect a serious answer to that, so he kept the question to himself.

"Oh hush, this is the only excuse you got to justify losing so badly?" He leaned away and smirked, "I could do you a favor and capture a couple more of your pieces, hmm? Or maybe, here," out of the corner of his eyes, Shuichi saw a large hand come his way, and all the courage he'd been building up for so long all but melted away as his eyes shut tight and stumbled several steps back, once again getting his foot caught in fabric and falling back on his butt. Atua help him, at that point, he only wished the fabric would swallow him whole so he wouldn't embarrass himself again.

He kept his eyes closed tight and waited, but when there was no pressure around himself he cracked an eye open and saw, to his relief, the hand hanging a few feet away from him. The relief was quickly replaced with shame, and he felt a little stupid for having gotten scared so easily after having put so much faith in Kokichi. From above, he heard the boy groan and say, "Relax Max, I said I wouldn't kill you until we're done with this game," with a tinge of annoyance. Fear lingered in Shuichi's mind when he saw the hand approaching him once again, but this time he managed to stand his ground when fingers slipped behind his back and easily scooped him up in an open palm.

In the next second, he was lifted and dropped off in one swift movement, leaving him dizzy and slightly sickened. He clutched on to whatever his hands found first, and took a moment to process his position on Kokichi's shoulder, and another moment to answer him when he said, "Better? Now you can't come whining that you can't see the board clearly."

"Yeah…" he muttered, still busy trying to find his balance. He found his hand balled up in a fist around a lone lock of purple hair, so he moved closer still until he was huddled against Kokichi's neck, and he hoped the other boy wouldn't hear his heart pounding with unease.

They were able to carry out the game for a while longer. At some point, Kokichi's hand ended up on his lap, and Shuichi, despite his anxiety spiking up at the gesture, stayed quiet about it, deciding to accept the extra bit of safety. He took it as a sign that Kokichi, too, was comfortable enough, so he decided to try to strike up the conversation he'd wanted to have.

"Are you sure you're not cheating ?" Maybe not the best way to start some small talk, but the first to come to mind when he was loosing more and more of his important imaginary pieces with every turn and he was sure Kokichi was somehow cheating.

"Who? M-Me?" Kokichi sniffled, and his shoulder jolted with a faked sob, leaving Shuichi to clutch onto the large hand on his lap like a lifeline. "I can't believe my beloved would accuse me of such- such a nefarious deed! Shuichi, you really broke my heart here."

Then all at once, his voice switched from 'heartbroken' back to nonchalant when he said, "Besides wouldn't you except the mastermind of this thrilling game of murder and betrayal to be good at some kids' strategy games? You know, I lied about my real talent, I'm actually the ultimate chess master…"

"You have poor taste in motives if you're really behind this killing game." Shuichi cut him off before he could drift away from the subject. A perfect opportunity not to waste. "I mean, this is more disadvantageous to you than anything. You can't access any building, nor can you hide anywhere if you need to be discreet for your secret evil plans. And if you were really the mastermind, you wouldn't want to single yourself out and leave our classmates feeling safe and secure…"

More and more inconsistencies came to his mind as he presented his deductions, and Kokichi listened, silent and unmoving. "I think… I think the reason behind this motive is for the mastermind to push our classmates away from you and to," he bit his lip and prepared himself to present yet another truth he didn't want to believe, "To force you to kill someone. The school can't accommodate for you for more than a few days at most, so unless the motive's effect is reversed soon…" he left the end unsaid.

Kokichi remained silent and still, so much so that Shuichi was almost tempted to reach out to his neck and check for a pulse, when he settled for, "Maan, Shuichi, you really are naive. You really thought this was all there was to this motive?" The hand on his lap slid off, and Kokichi leaned back against the wall behind him in an viciously abrupt movement that made Shuichi slip and almost fall, then he went on without a pause, "You know, your logic doesn't apply to every situation, mister detective. The only reason I care about is my own entertainment, simple as that. And if I get bored, I can reverse the motive whenever I want."

Shuichi couldn't see his face from his angle, but he could imagine the leer easily plastered on it, like a mask worn a hundred times. "Wouldn't you be breaking your own rules then? And admitting defeat to the participants of the game?"

The debate that ensued made Shuichi feel like he was back on trial grounds. Kokichi shot him arguments to prove he was mastermind. They were full of contradictions, half-hearted and shaky as a card castle in the middle of a storm, and too easily, his truth cut through the other's words like a bullet. Kokichi sounded bored, like he'd prefer keeping his lie true but wouldn't mind an outcome in which Shuichi busted him. And Shuichi wanted that, to see through Kokichi's lies, to get a chance to understand why he was so hellbent on making a villain out of himself when he so obviously worked to stop the killing game just like his classmates, he wanted to reach out to him and pull him out of his self-inflicted loneliness and work together with him to save their friends, if only he would take his hand.

Their debate came to a halt when a crash was heard from Miu's lab. Shuichi distinctly felt Kokichi stiffen and tense up at the sound. He brought a hand back up to his smaller classmate and wrapped it around him in a loose fist, before he got up and made his way to the inventor's lab in quiet, quick steps. There, Shuichi was lowered back on solid ground and rushed in the lab.

His knees almost gave out, his mouth hung open in a silent scream. Ryoma's body lay in the middle of the room in a pool of his own blood. Lifeless eyes stared at the detective, and the detective stared back. Shuichi felt his throat constrict, his vision swimming, he clutched his chest and tore his eyes away from the scene. He had let another one of his friends die, he would soon have to investigate the crime, to doom the killer among them by his own hands.

"Shit," he turned around, and there was Kokichi peering in the lab and their classmate's body with a frown. It vanished as quick as it had come and was replaced by a blank face with a click of his tongue. "Well then, Shuichi, I guess I'll leave you here to do your detective work while I go call the others, hmm?" And he got up without waiting for an answer. Before he left, Shuichi heard him mutter, "I hope the next motive doesn't make me really tiny or something."

_____

Gosh this took so long yet I still feel it's so bad. Hope I was at least able to quench some of your thirst for saiou bae

#ask #request #writing #shuichi Saihara #kokichi ouma #saiouma #oumasai #tiny!shuichi #giant!kokichi #gtronpa #gt #danganronpa #ndrv3

[sjw-publishings]

Man-aging your time

Foreign Relations

(Asian twist on @dumb-and-jocked story, Corporate Progression)

Edgar Han was never fond of conferences, specially ones he was forced to attend due to pressure from his company. As a college intern, he gave it his all to ensure a good grade and possibly a head-start in his business.

He was wrong.

Working at Wong.Inc, the 21 year old was constantly asked and tasked with menial errands all day, filing papers and serving coffee. Now he was asked to be an usher for a conference meeting with TenHaken Corporation.

Dressed in a black polo and khaki pants, he tapped his dress shoes impatiently, being forced to come far too early and way before any of the other interns showed up. He was pretty lean, sort of lanky as he did not do sports. Long hair was tied to a ponytail, as he kept it maintained and groomed so as to not leave a bad impression.

He wondered if it was because they were aware that he and his boyfriend, two of their interns, were gay. But he seemed to be getting the shorter end of the stick...maybe cause he actually cared about his grades and future career, they ended up treating him harsher?

Nevertheless, he did have a slimmer of hope, maybe if he left a good impression today, he could maybe...

“Aren’t you going to shake hands with me?”

Standing before him was a tall, handsome daddy who was bulked up with muscle, thick biceps straining against his suit, and the most devious looking grin that screamed corporate evil...but....it was so hot.

“S...Sorry Mr TenHaken Sir!”

He extended out his hand, as the Boss of the other company grabbed it and gave it a good shook. Snapping his mind away from his worries...and distracting it with...his strong scent infused with cologne.

And those hands, those warm..., and manly hands.

“So you are one of the few interns that...?”

“Yes...alongside my boyfriend...”

He responded in a daze, entranced by the scent. Yes he may go through several hoops just to impress the higher ups, even at the expense of his relationship with his boyfriend, but he would never reveal their relationship in a workplace setting...especially considering some of the higher ups may be homophobic.

A brief wave of disgust shown in the Boss’s countenance, before he returned to grinning madly as he let go of the shake. Giving a firm pat on the young asian man’s back, he spoke in his richly, deep voice.

“Splendid, you’d be perfect...”

The man sauntered into the conference room, bringing along most of his musky aroma and thick cologne with him...but of course, leaving some behind. The young intern blinked, realising what a poor attempt of a greeting that was, and to the BOSS of the other company too!

What is he going to do?

“Did ya watch the game last night?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, a suburban looking man in a suit asked him the question, sticking out his hand with a dopey looking grin. Almost sporting a similar thickness of the cologne the Boss wore...but more mild...and friendly.

“Uh...maybe I did?”

He grabbed ahold of the other mans hand, giving a firm shake as rehearsed. He may just be an intern, and maybe he fumbled with the greeting with the Boss, but he was going to give it his all with the next few introductions.

The shake, while it was a matter of seconds, seemed to last longer in his mind, as he felt the warm spreading from the thickness of those fatherly palms, and rough wrinkles that had definitely were from the years of prime in his youth.

“What maybe I did? Of course I did!”

Of course I did? He thought, scratching his head with his other hand, which felt oddly warm as well. Mirroring the other, as those palms expanded with a former grip, sun-kissed tan bathing their digits as it spread all over their palms. Crunching the older man’s hands, as the university intern smirked.

“Of course I did!”

“Atta Boy!”

The older father figure looped his arms around him, as he...slightly reluctantly, did the same. The tan had spread down his wrists, past the forearms and to those biceps. Giving a firm masculine boost as testosterone swelled his arms, thickening like he definitely lifted a lot.

He wasn’t into sports much, but he did lift a little...especially after some pestering with Mr Craig, the really nice man from the other company. Tasked to do some stock checking and other stuff before the event, they chatted quite a bit and surprisingly had clique very well.

“So what are ya doing out here shaking hands?”

“Oh I...uh was asked to shake hands?”

“What are ya talking about? That stuff was for the interns!”

Bedgaric blinked, interns? But wasn’t he...no. He moved past that stage a couple of years ago, and thinking back, the company never asked him to go stand at the door and shake hands when he was interning in Wong.Inc.

But he felt like...he needed to do this. Setting a good example for the future interns, and hoping they don’t slack off like his lazy young boyfriend. Straightening his back, not noticing he was now about the same height as Craig.

“Its merely in my good nature...gotta reflect well on the company!”

“And that’s right why we bonded right away!”

The man beamed, feeling at ease with his colleague as they were often paired together to strengthen relationships between both companies. Despite the obvious age and ranking differences, it was clear to the company that he was fit for the job.

As his mentor-figure rubbed against his sore shoulders, his shoulder blades clacked, as it was evident that the dark tan worked its magic there. Working out and making up for those wasted years, the 28 year old definitely made gains as his back rippled against the Polo tee he wore. Strapping muscles that he could recall several men, and girls ogling after him on a daily basis. Though he was into boyfriend Conan, many others were also into him too.

“Anyways...remember that bit? TOUCHDOWN!”

“Ah yeah! Man was that CLOSE!”

Resting his strong muscular arm easily on the other man, he was really into football, though he never made the team when he was younger. Too much of a pansy back then, but Craig really manned him up like the big brother figure he is.

Often watching football during the breaks, and a couple of roughhousing with Craig and a couple of his older friends. They had a blast!

Bendgardict, being the tall and bulky asian man he is, was assigned to be on defence. Recalling the impact the football nearly hitting his core, but his strong goalkeeper-esque hands catching it...definitely something he picked up during his soccer days.

Indeed, he had played soccer a ton, he was a jock after all. Legs thickening to hard trunks, as the hot tan spread with light dusting of hair at every spot. Feet surely sprung forth, as the heavy clunking of those dark polished dress shoes now spotted his attire.

Giving a huge SWING to Craig, broad shoulders rippling beneath his attire, he crossed his arms and smirked. Clutching every football toss to his core, abdominals crunching numbers as pectorals bounced back with even more force, a defender to the core, that’s the man he was.

Standing firm and tall, his polo shirt could barely contain the rippling maturity as the sound of satisfying rips echoed his larger bod. Material shifting to a more presentable cotton, bleached white as sleeves rolled themselves neatly down his arms. Spotting on a white dress shirt with the first few buttons unbuttoned, accenting his frame like the Chad he is.

He had some hesitations displaying himself, but he shook it off, knowing if God gave him a body like this, he should use it to the fullest. God? Must be Craig’s Church influencing him quite a lot, he believed, still new to it though.

“From production manager to executive director...Eugene definitely went bonkers last night...”

“Hah! Serves him right to go against our team!”

The two of them continued chatting about work experiences, the game, and altogether men stuff. Time flew by effortlessly, alongside maturity. The Associate ranking up as they laughed heartily.

It wasn’t long until the asian man surpassed his peer in height, stopping at 6ft 2. He laughed heartily like a big brother, even though he was clearly younger...not by much, 5 years or so.

But he certainly ranked up a lot, after all, he did share similar beliefs to his higher ups and colleagues...those ‘hip’ millennials call them boomers, but their values really resonated within him. Something his...intern would not understand, with all his constant flirting in the office.

Presentability. An upper coating of expensive fabric layered over his dress shirt, as well as replacing that of his pants. Beige with faint magenta straight lines, ironing the wrinkles over his suit pants and jacket combo with a matching pocket square.

He had earned quite a handful sum after all, spending it wisely in investing in stocks and proper attire. Not like those games that millennials waste their money on.

Masculinity. This was done without question, which represented his sunbaked complexion from working out and bonding with other men in the field.

It was also without question that the ridiculous ponytail began slowly retracting upwards, with sides shaved like a real man always would, especially in sports. Combing sideways with neat dabbing of gel, as the hard crusty dusting of aftershave went all over his upper lip and strong jaw.

He was nice, but pretty jock-centred in his beliefs. Both in his faith and how a man oughta behave. Big strong and masculine, the provider of the household, man and woman.

Man and woman...?

“Will see ya and the family on church this Sunday!”

“See ya!”

His mouth instinctively responded on autopilot, as his goofy grin waved goodbye to his long time friend, colleague, and church mate. His eyes blinked momentarily in light shock, making way to the bathrooms, and quickly closing behind one of the stalls.

LOCK!

“What...what in tarnation is happening to me? Haha?”

The stresses melted away into a grin, he always had a good natured stress-free persona, even when that gay intern confessed to him when he wasn’t into such things...wait no....

He felt compelled to...what? He barely knew the intern, plus he was more into ladies...in fact, he was sure his buddy Craig mentioned something about a family right? The air conditioning neutralising his heat emitting, he quickly fished for his-

“So warm...so fatherly...”

The middle aged man tugged his breeding tool beneath his pants, letting out soft groans like he was young. Ah the younger days, so simple, when men just liked women...when men just liked women!

Blushing to himself, as he tugged ferociously, letting out loud gasps as he felt his behind tightening with a SPANK. Disciplining away any penetration like his father would if he did not excel in his studies, swelling up to a sweet bubble butt reserved for...his love one.

He was raised in a traditional household after all, strong honour and an expertise in Mandarin Chinese. Which was why he landed his position in the first place.

But of course, he thanked God for everything after coming to know him in his college days. Strictness mixed with Kindness, Honour mixed with a loving father, Mr Benedgadict Kan understood who he was, as the firm but gentle brushes against his package were too much to bear.

“Forgive me...C...C....Cindy!”

He was a faithful man wasn’t he? It feels strange to even think about such ‘millennial’ thoughts! Haha, never understood them. Thankfully his wife Cindy and him raised their children well in the lord! Speaking of her...oh man!

“Cindy...you’re so beautiful!”

Gone were the dates of a gay man, replacing by a marriage lasting over two decades. Time well spent with her, His heart pumped in love with HER! Manhood rose in length and girth at the thought of her luscious hair, and soft lips that just made the man outta him.

Man and woman

THRUST!

She is your wife, and you are her husband.

THRUST!

You are a father.

“Ooooaaaah!”

The forty eight year old asian man gave a huge holler as he let out the remains of his homosexuality in an innocent bliss, slumping back as his eyelids closed without hesitation.

Stains looped around his left ring finger as a good man stays devoted to his wife. His member remained sturdy, hard and manly, but at rest. A golden necklace materialised, symbolising the gift she got him on their anniversary.

His married hand gave a good firm pat on his pouch, instinctively putting back his tool into hiding and zipping his pants up.

Almost as if Benedict Kang never tugged his manhood by himself, only engaging in it when multiplying with his wife. He was a good faithful man after all, his new genetics beamed to reflect that as he slowly opened his beady eyes.

“Oh lordee...Where am I?”

Managing Director Kang was your all around nice boss...dad guy. Ruffling his gelled hair, he laughed as he remembered praying and thanking the lord for his successes in his company and in his life.

Prayer time was always priority. He got results done, and had more than enough time to spend time with his family as well as watch the game. It had cut close sometimes, nearly missing a business proposal due to his son’s football game in school, but he always made it in the Bened-Nick of time.

Speaking of which...

“Oh shucks! What time is it?”

He quickly fished himself up from his mediation pronto, unlocking the door and strolling down towards the door entrance of the conference meeting, he quickly glanced at his ‘IanAs’ watch.

“Just in time! The Conference meeting was about to start!”

Mr Benedict Kang flashed his most genuine grin, stress melting away from the atmosphere as his wholesome presence was made known as he jovially walked in.

“Amen to that!”

#gay to straight #g2s #mental change #jock #asian #personality change #gay #lib to cons #age progression #to #straight #christian #father #man #aging #your #time #managing #man-aging your time #foreign #relations #foreign relations

[jacksgreysays]

Fake Fic Summaries 28/?, the How Did I Stumble Onto This Ship edition (2021-03-18)

Like Sand and Snow and Paint

The thing between Scoot and Destiel is less a question of will or won’t and more a matter of when—not that Derek wants to know even that much about his little brother’s love life.

His relationship with Aoi is somehow both more and less straightforward.

(Or, a dumbass wraith warrior and a runaway healer princess only really work with the addition of a giant demon more interested in naps than battle)

A/N: Truly this will make no sense if you don’t partake in @dilfosaur’s neopets adventure party ‘verse and this will still make very little sense even if you do.

And don’t get me wrong: of course I appreciate the Destiel x Scoot content... I just for some reason think it’d be funny if the “obvious het ship” of Derek and Aoi were a little less obvious and a little less het. And by funny I mean charmingly endearing.

If I could destroy the writer’s block that has plagued me, the fic would probably go something like this:

~

They are roaming adventurers of Neopia who help down on their luck villages out of the goodness of their hearts—which actually means they’re homeless, near broke, and always stumbling into world changing conspiracies when they’re just looking for a paycheck.

It’s a pattern that started back when it was just Derek and Scoot, two orphan brothers trying to look out for each other. Then came Aoi, runaway princess from the Kingdom of Maraqua. While they definitely couldn’t afford a third mouth to feed, it wasn’t the sheer heartbroken impossibility of trying to avenge her family, so their pack of two expanded into a party of three.

After that came Uchiura who hadn’t joined the party so much as she rescued their asses from wandering the desert and decided to continue hanging around. Then finally Destiel crashed into their lives, an accidental harbinger of an interplanar war and Scoot’s decreasing amounts of chill.

Bwalthazar didn’t need to be added because Bwalthazar had, in a way, been there since the beginning; breathing a second chance and wraith powers into Derek after an early quest gone horribly wrong.

And thus began the adventures of Neopia’s least prepared, most disastrous band of heroes.

—

Of course the adventures are not the important part of the story. The wars thwarted, the conspiracies revealed, they don’t matter, not really. Neopia is a world in flux with strange lands, stranger timelines, and even stranger beings. What matters is how strangers stop being such and how they build their bonds.

Or don’t, as the case may be.

Destiel and Scoot is the more compelling tale, perhaps, a fallen angel and a reckless mercenary; reluctant allies slowly—so slowly!—transforming into something more.

In comparison Derek and Aoi seems so obvious: a rough but well-meaning warrior with a poised and faithful healer. Commoner with royalty. Etc, etc. Certainly there’s no denying how well they work together nor their fondness and affection for each other. Even without verbally acknowledging it, it’s as if they both know the next steps to their dance, it’s just…

“Why don’t they kiss already?” Uchiura asks, small feet swiftly and surely scaling Bwalthazar’s rocky hide to perch safely on their shoulder.

Bwalthazar rumbles, literally, un-loafing with the sounds of grinding stone on stone. Their hellfire bright eyes lazily peeling open to spot their guest, so tiny is she in comparison.

Bwalthazar rumbles once more, an inquisitive hum that causes its own localized earthquake. One ear flicks in curiosity, the point swiveling to better hear the Uchiura.

“I asked why don’t they kiss already,” Uchiura repeats, a childish whine of impatience as punctuation.

“These things take time,” Bwalthazar responds slowly, as they do most activities, thorough and considering kinder words for lazy. “Scoot is unused to standing outside his brother’s shadow, and Destiel is young for an angel.”

“Not them!” Uchiura protests, soft feet pitter pattering ineffectively against a rocky scale, “Derek and Aoi!”

“Ah,” Bwalthazar says, then goes quiet. Or as quiet as deep bellowing breaths can be for a being their size. Their eyelids lower, either pondering or readying to return to sleep.

It’s not a bad idea, Uchiura thinks, curling up herself, hellfire warmed demon skin almost as nice as sun heated stone. She deserves a nap anyway.

Dropping into slumber, she forgets the question.

Bwalthazar does not.

—

There is no contract between Bwalthazar and Derek.

Yes, Bwalthazar breathed life and magic into him. They bestowed wraith powers unto Derek’s extremely mortal form, changing the ending of a commonplace cautionary tale into another: Overconfident and desperate sellsword accepts a quest beyond his ability; he nearly dies, nearly leaves his younger brother truly alone in the world. Of course, this does not happen.

But there is no contract between Bwalthazar and Derek. Derek did not reach out, desperately, for a twisted miracle in his dying breaths. Bwalthazar did not spot a bleeding, broken mortal and consider it their chance to expand their influence.

Derek was in their third favorite napping spot, that was all. So Bwalthazar huffed, hellfire and brimstone, and imbued him with life.

His wraith powers aren’t even dependent on Bwalthazar, not really, a manifestation of Derek’s own magic just metamorphed from what it once was. And if he uses too much of it, he just reverts into his normal form, not some shambling corpse. It’s a different color of hellfire, even—though only Bwalthazar and maybe Destiel would know what that may denote, if it does anything.

Derek is not beholden to Bwalthazar, and even less so vice versa.

But Derek goes out of his way to assure villagers that the breathing mini mountain in nearby empty field will not harm them, and Bwalthazar has decided that this adventuring lark is as good an excuse as any to find new favorite napping spots.

That is all.

—

Aoi sits with Bwalthazar in the late nights, the moonless the better, as close to serenity as she can get nowadays.

Their hellfire reminds her a little of the bioluminescence under the seas, but the dry heat prevents her from submerging too far into sorrow.

….

~

A/N: … and then that’s as far as I got?

There was, like, a tiny bit about after late night Aoi and Bwalthazar bonding (maybe talking about revenge and healing and catharsis and the rise and fall of monarchies or something) then Aoi leaves and Bwalthazar goes back to sleep for a hot second only for Derek to show up at dawn and like, quietly bond via practicing sword forms in vicinity of Bwalthazar. And then a line about how for Bwalthazar sleep is not a necessity, something like that.

So by paintbrush, Aoi is probably from Altador and Uchiura from Maraqua (which I had to look up, but was such a punch of nostalgia to the face) but, like, I dunno. Peophins are straight up horse mermaids. Horse mermaids! And then even though Uchiura is the Maraquan paintbrush, I didn’t want their storylines to be linked before the larger group so… I dunno, I guess she’s just been traveling for funsies.

I’m sorry, Karina.

(But also, let me know if you want me to take this down? Because I totally will.)

#jacksgreyson #fake fic summaries #writing #fanfiction #links #neopets #dilfosaur #like sand and snow and paint #incomplete

[kinkyacademia]

Can you write a fic were Hawks x Male reader were the reader loses their dog(Preferably a large breed) is a villain attack. Hawks ends up finding the dog, returns it, but is surprised to see that the reader is actually the nerdy kid from his old high school and now the reader looks hot and just go on from there. Don´t judge me.

bI don’t really know who this was for, but I snatched it up because BAM it was cute :)Okay after writing this, I have to say: I didn’t expect to make Hawks such a bottom, but he is SUCH A BOTTOM IN THIS IM SO SORRY-Orange warning. This has fairly lewd content in it, but since there isn’t any sex, it’s less of a lemon and more of an orange.

-Mod Pasta 🍜🍝

🌪”Charles!” You shouted when you got home. There had been a villain attack near your house and you rushed home to check up on your purebred Newfoundland named Charles. Upon not finding him, you got worried, calling the police. They told you that they would look for the dog among the havoc the villain had caused. Anxiety plagued you, but alas there was nothing you could do. It was in the hands of heroes now, probably that up and coming new hero you heard about: The one with wings.

🌪Takami had been flying around for a while, lazily collecting distressed civilians and checking up on people around the firefight. It had been an odd villain: some rando had gone rough and used his attraction quirk to pull builds together. Hawks had neutralized him, then joined the rescue squad. It was a high-injury event because of the violent power, but all injured civilians were now in care. It was near the end of the day, right when Hawks was going to leave and go home for dinner, when he got a heads up from the police that a dog was missing. Some huge, fluffy dog a boy had called in about. He immediately swooped down to look for it.

🌪Finding the dog was a breeze: it had just been accidentally pulled out of the yard of its owner and run directly into the danger. It was trotting along in the rubble, sniffing around for a tasty snack. He landed, giving the dog his hand while he reported to the police that he had found it. The dog barked happily, trotting right up to him and promptly leaning the side of its body all the way into him. He hadn’t expected it to be so loving, and he stumbled back with a shout of surprise, then delight. It was such a sweetie! He cooed at the big puppy, ruffling its ears until the police notified him that they could still hear him and gave him the address of the owner.

🌪The dog seemed comfortable with Takami flying, so he set off towards the owner’s house with it in tow, a little uncomfortable because of the weight, but able to manage. Once he set it down, he had to stretch his arms, his joints popping. The dog barked as it happily looked up at him. Almost immediately the door of the little house opened, the light blaring through the dark dusk as the owner rushed forward, hugging their pet. He proudly crossed his arms, “I found him in the rubble, he’s pretty cute.”

🌪When the owner looked up, he definitely didn’t expect to see (L/N) (F/N) from his old Hero course. You looked up with surprise, “Takami…?”

🌪You two caught up quickly, and you offered him tea as he followed you inside. You had settled as a sidekick to a hero agency, and he raved about how nerdy you had been back in high school. You had worn thick-rimmed glasses, always corrected him on minor arithmetic details, and had a problem with self-care and acne. Now none of those things were present, especially the problem with self care… Yeah, as you poured the willow tea, he admired your ass from your couch as he removed his suddenly stuffy jacket. You took care of yourself alright, very well.

🌪You seemed indifferent to his interest, happily talking about old times and relating them to your new job. Charles ended up laying his body across the both of you, and you laughed, giving his back end a slap. The puppy barked, wagging his tail. Both of you laughed at that, and Hawks rubbed the dog’s head, still infatuated with the baby. His eyes didn’t stray from your own for long, however: yours just seemed so much brighter without the glasses. How could puberty hit someone so late and so hard?

🌪You calmly smiled, drinking your tea serenely, “Thanks for returning Charlie. I bet he’s pooped from running around the city.”

“Probably,” Takami nodded, blinking a couple times before realizing that he still had his goggles on. He removed them, placing them in his jacket on the table in front of your couch, “I’m probably imposing-”

“Never! It’s so cool to see how far you’ve come, Takami, even if we weren’t super close back in Uni,” You exclaimed, and his breath hitched. Boy did he wish he knew you better in Uni…

🌪Hawks was suddenly conscious of his hair. It was all over the place - and your own was quite obviously styled. Wait - did you just push it back to tease him? He felt his body grow hotter… That damn nerd from his old school was sitting in front of him, laughing his cute little ass off at Hawks’ horrible jokes.

“I had started a pot of rice before you arrived, you can stay for dinner if you like,” He didn’t like how narrow your sly eyes were when you suggested that. You were so tantalizing that he had to stop himself from literally ruffling his feathers.

“I’d love that, heroing is hard work.”

🌪He never thought the day would come that the annoying geek from Uni’s mouth would look so inviting. Did you keep the chopsticks between your teeth when you laughed because you knew he was staring? He hoped that was the case, because he wasn’t about to stop. Hadn’t you had braces? They were definitely gone now, and your entire face was just enticing him…

🌪You could definitely tell Takami was attracted to you. You had run into another old peer from High School and they blatantly commented on your improved physique and looks. You had put a lot of effort into them over the last few years, and you were glad that they paid off. Finding out that an old classmate was now the No. 3 Pro Hero and was practically drooling for you was another achievement you were quite proud of.

🌪He had taken his jacket and goggles off, his gloves soon following. His wind-blown hair seemed all too perfect to run your hands through, but you didn’t quite remember if your peer was attracted to men or not. He was popular with the girls ever since he was in Uni, but had he ever went after one? Not that you remember. You listened to him talk about his latest mission with wide eyes and fascination, and he continued to beef up the story until it sounded fantastical, obviously trying to impress you. You’d never seen him so flustered, his voice shaking a bit and his eyes fleeting.

🌪So you took a leap of faith and called him out on it, “Takami,” He paused, his eyes immediately looking to your own across the dining table, “Are you nervous?”

“Ah shucks, you caught me. Well come on, you know you’re hot, right?” Your heart fluttered. That was so upfront, and your cheeks flushed as you smiled to yourself.

“Thanks, I was beginning to think you just wanted to leave,” Your smile formed into a smirk, and you rested your chopsticks against your teeth as your tongue stuck out. You cocked as eyebrow as his obvious strain to not look at your lips.

“I kinda like it here. You know,” You hummed to let him know you were paying attention as he took another mouth full of rice, “My person motto is that I think heroes should be able to relax and have leisure time.”

“Hmm?” He nodded at your inquiry, and you chuckled deeply, “You don’t seem very relaxed. I could help you with that,” He quite obviously was gawking now, his cheeks flushed and sweat beginning to gather on his brow.

“Really?” His voice was hoarse, and you ended up laughing as he looked away from you, realizing how needy he sounded. You twirled a chopsticks between your fingers, then glanced at the man’s lap, eyes wandering back up to his wanton eyes, “Yeah…” He trailed off, his small pupils now fully blown.

🌪To say the least, Takami’s dinner snack was long forgotten. Once you had gotten up, slowly stalking around the table toward him, he was like putty for you. You took his hand, and he followed you anxiously to your bedroom. You had exceptional taste in style, your bed being plush as he fell back into it. He leaned up, and you cocked an eyebrow, “Finally found a shred of dignity?”

“Never, but I can’t be on my back,” He ruffled his wings, and you rolled your eyes, leaned down to place a caste kiss on his lips that left him breathless, “Fuck,” he whispered.

🌪He remembered being compared to an angle one time in bed. Sweet, flustered, but never submissive enough to back down from a fight. You ended up straddling him, and the blood that was left in his body travelled to his groin. His back was against the headboard, and you were ravaging the hero’s pride by leaving love bites down his neck, his lips swollen from a long, deep make out session, “Where did this… Even come from?” He had to gather his scrambled thoughts together.

“I had expected you to take the lead, but this was just too easy,” He relished in the purr that escaped your lips, and he took a deep breath. You pulled back, looking at your work with smug pride, “Beautiful.”

“Don’t underestimate me, (F/N), I’ve been known to bite back.”

🌪His own love marks were less intense than your own, his touch less rough and more calculated. He had flipped you positions, but you obviously still held the reigns. You were just too much for him to wrangle. You pulled his hips against your own, grinding into him. The gasp that escaped his lips sent shivers down your arms: This was happening. You were going to fuck the pretty boy from Uni.

🌪“We still have a lot of clothes on,” You ran a hand down his chest, and some form of a coo came from him. You gave him an incredulous look, and his cheeks darkened.

“I can’t control the sounds I make, (F/N),” You cackled, ordering him to take his shirt off. He obliged, and you made sure to leave a few marks along the way as you removed your own top. Both of your bulges were now straining against your pants, threatening to pop a button.

“It’s cute. I wonder if I can pull another one out,” You teased, and the awkward, flustered smile you got back confirmed that you were going to pull many noises out of this hero. Your hands travelled down to his belt as you planted another kiss on his lips.

“You’re so different than I remember,” He whispered, and you nodded slowly as you undid his buckle, pulling the belt out and inspecting it. His eyes followed your own down to it.

“I am,” You ran a hand along the buckle, “Every been hit with this?” Your eyes snapped back to his own. The bewildered look he had confirmed that he hadn’t, and you threw the leather behind his neck, pulling him close to your lips, “Maybe next time,” You bit his bottom lip, then tossed the belt off of the bed. At this point you were just torturing the man.

🌪You both had to get out of your pants before one of you went insane. You opened your nightstand, pulling out the bottle you hadn’t expected to use and a condom. You held them up to his face as he was yanking a shoe off. He looked to them, then you, “Nice size.”

“Oh,” You chuckled, forgetting that the size of the condom was labelled.

“Definitely for you, though,” He glanced at his own boxers that were still on, “I can take it.”

“Cute,” You were waiting on him, and he could tell. You pulled your own underwear off, and his eyes travelled to your length. You could see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, and you hooked a finger into the elastic of his boxers, laughing, “C’mon, embarrassed? I’m sure you’ve done this a million times.”

“I’m not a player, contrary to popular belief,” He crossed his arms, and you gave him a cocked eyebrow.

“I’ve heard otherwise,” You pulled his boxers down an inch, and he seemed nervous, “Are you… sure?” You held the condom up once again, “You can back out if you want, I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’m just remembering how you used to be. I thought you were going to be some weird scientist with warts when you grew up,” He laughed dryly, and you gasped, grinning.

“Oh really? I’ll fuck that expectation away, I promise,” You threatened, “C’mon, if you’re going to take me, you gotta be prepared,” You swore he cooed once more, nodding. You pulled his boxers down to see his semi-erect length, and he stepped out of them obediently.

“Yeah, alright, yeah,” His voice was practically shaking. You put a hand under his jaw, pulling him toward yourself. He followed immediately, and you felt a wave of dominance fall over you. Most heroes would feel shameful being so submissive, but this boy practically held pride in it. You were going to love this.

“Let’s start.”

#mod pasta #orange #bnha lemon #mha lemon #bnha orange #bnha #bnha imagines #mha #mha imagines #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia headcanons #boku no hero academia scenarios #my hero academia #my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia imagines #hawks #hawks x reader #takami keigo #keigo takami #takami keigo x reader

[scullyy]

A Quiet Moment

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: During her monthly hair cut, Clem and Louis both confide in each other about their deepest feelings.

A/N: I started this at around 12:50 am and finished it at 4 am (the power of a can of coke before lmao) buutttt it’s all for @castle-javier HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAISY!!!!!!! YOU’RE ALWAYS LISTENING TO MY RAMBLES AND DUMB HEADCANONS GO WISH HER THE BESTEST BIRTHDAY <3<3<3 I LUV YOU 

-

"Oh Looouis," That devilish yet melodic tune meant only one thing and both of them knew it. Louis glanced up from his book, raising a brow at this rare case of forwardness from her. "I need your help." There it was. Clementine knew when to turn on the charm and how to talk in such a delicate way that turned Louis into mush.

He closed the novel he was reading, wasn't captivating to begin with. He had read over the same page three times now, always losing himself to a stray thought. Besides, a task with Clementine is a more fruitful way to spend the day. "Anything for you my darling. What is it?"

Clem slowly unveiled her hands, revealing a tarnished pair of scissors. "Could you please cut my hair?" Her teeth were bared in the widest grin he had seen to date, puppy dog eyes in full effect.

"You know I can't say no to a face like that." And what a task this was! Clem usually cut her own hair, swearing every few minutes when she cut a piece too short, yet somehow she always came out of the bathroom looking as adorable as ever.

She tossed him the scissors before retreating back to the bathroom, immediately going back to inspecting her hair in the mirror, pulling at a stray curl. Clem didn't even want to consider how long it had been since she had last used shampoo and conditioner. Too long that was certain. Dirty hair was the norm. And it still smelled after all these years. Whoopee.

Louis interrupted the rare vanity he witnessed, leaning against the door in his typical nonchalant manner. Function over fashion for Clem, that was always the way. Seeing her fiddle with flat curls and knots pulled at his heart. At the end of the day she was still a young girl who wanted a decent haircut. "You ready for this?"

Clementines' hand clenched unknowingly, her teeth near the point of grinding. "Just...be careful. The last person who cut my hair fucked it up." She sat down on the rickety toilet seat, eyes focused on the mirror and definitely not on how Louis was wildly swinging the scissors around his finger.

"I'm a natural, been doing my own since I was a kid!" Louis ran his free hand through his dreads, even Clem had to admit they looked good and somewhat healthy. "Now trust the process. You asked me for help, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't cut it too short, okay? I like tying it up." Clementine pulled out her hair tie, wincing at the unevenness of it all. Goddamnit Javi. The curls on the longer side were near untameable, reminding her of how she once looked. Smiling ever so faintly at the memory, looking like a boy was now the least of her concerns.

Louis bit his tongue in an attempt to not laugh at her scrunched face. "Pinky promise, you'll still be able to use your hair...thingy."

"You mean hair tie?"

Louis eventually took the plunge and snipped off the first tattered curl, watching it fall to the ground. No going back now. "Yeah that. I use to have one but it snapped, guess it couldn't contain my luscious locks."

A shiver ran across the back of her neck as the cold metal glided against her skin. "Yeah, I'm sure that was it. I have a spare you can borrow," She dug around her jacket pocket for the mangy thing, soon finding it hiding beneath a flower she had plucked earlier that day. "Here, still pretty stretchy after all these years."

Louis held his hand out steady as she slid it over his wrist, the once purple dye now tarnished by specks of blood, dirt and other substances Louis didn't want to know of. "Damn, you've had this for a long time."

"I got them right as everything started."

Louis eventually found his groove with the scissors, secretly wondering if Clem would stab him if he gave her a mohawk. Perhaps Farrah Fawcett hair? "Who gave them to you?"

Her delayed answer nudged at his sympathy, a clear cut sign that Clementine had fallen back into old memories. "Lilly did. She said they would help keep my hair out of my face while I slept."

Louis had stopped mid-cut, letting the answer sink in as his own tormented memories of that woman came at full speed. "Oh. You don't really talk about her."

"There's not much to talk about." She chose to focus on the rapidly growing pile of hair on the floor, gliding it around the smooth tiles with the tip of her boot. It would be a bitch to tidy later, but that was a future Clem problem.

They continued in silence, the only sound being the sharp cut of the scissors every few seconds as Louis took his time, choosing to focus on the task at hand rather than the shared trauma both had been dealt by Lilly. "Sometimes I wonder what she was like, before the child kidnapping thing. Was she always a sociopath?"

Clem let out a laugh that Louis knew was fake. "No, she was normal. I guess a little angry, but who wasn't? Her dad certainly didn't help."

"Her dad? What was he like?"

"We were all hiding in this drugstore and her dad, like the grade-A asshole he was, threatened a kid."

"Yikes." Seems like hurting kids ran in the family.

Her shoulders fell deeply, snippets of hair sliding off her shirt. "Yup, he thought the kid was bit. He wasn't, just scared, like everyone else. I miss him sometimes."

"Who? The dad?"

"Fuck no, the kid. We called him Duck, he was the only other kid I had to talk to." Even if all he talked about was dinosaurs and comic books, it was a nice distraction from the world outside the motor inn. Before everything began to crumble.

"Was he cool?" Louis dared to question further, treading carefully on what he knew were sacred memories. Stories Clem had never shared with him, or anyone. The only glimpses he had seen were the aftermaths of her nightmares, the faces of past ghosts coming back to haunt her.

She hummed over her answer. "I suppose, kinda annoying and loud. Very loud. I put a bug in his pillow."

Louis couldn't help but chuckle. "You did what now?"

"I put a bug in his pillow, just a little spider. I don't know why I did that."

"You would have been the perfect candidate for a troubled youth school."

She lightly punched his chest, unable to contain her smile. "Hey! I was a good kid."

He feigned the agony from the punch, clutching his t-shirt in a death grip. "Sure, cause good kids always leave bugs on pillows and punch their boyfriends."

"It was in his pillow for the record."

The silence was no longer heavy like it was before. This time light, breathable. A change of pace from how it began.

"Her dad died in a meat locker." Clementine pursed her lips together as the unsettling story began to spill out of her. She had never spoken about it before, to anyone, choosing to let those memories fester and hide.

"A what?"

"A place where you store meat. Some of us were trapped inside, he had a heart attack and to stop him from turning Lee..." Her words became the mere wave of a whisper as her breathing grew quicker. She was still there; in the meat locker, in the jewellery store, at Howe's, on the boat. Always there, always trapped, unable to get out.

Louis briefly stopped cutting her hair, giving her his full attention instead. "Lee did what?" Some small part of him was afraid of the answer.

"He held Lilly back as Kenny dropped a salt lick on his head." She said it so calmly, too calmly. As if it was just an occupational hazard, a little story you tell to strangers to pass the time.

The scissors nearly slipped from his grasp. "Holy shit."

"Yeah, not fun." It was the moment she realised her world had changed, now forever starved for help. There was no going back.

He thought of one final question, the one question whose truth terrified him more than the others. "How old were you?"

"Eight."

Louis didn't dare test his luck any further, his curiosity reaching its limit. She was right, he had no idea what people were capable of behind the school walls. The things she had seen, the things she was forced to live through...he wished he could take it all away. Replace her horrid memories with calmer ones.

There was always their purple house.

As her hair got shorter and shorter, he began to cut slower and slower, not wanting their brief time together to end. After this, it's back to the grim world. Back to the endless fight. He was so lost in concentration he hadn't noticed Clem staring blatantly at his reflection for the past few minutes. He wasn't the only curious cat in the room.

"Whatcha thinking about now?"

"Wondering where I can find purple paint. For our house." He chirped. Talking about this dream house always put them both in a better mood, despite the likelihood of them ever seeing it was slim to none. It was their safe haven, a world away from this one where they could do whatever and be whoever.

"Ah, right. I haven't been able to come across any. We might have to consider a different colour."

Louis nearly choked on the very prospect, his hands waving around violently in disbelief, despite wielding a sharp blade. "Never! I am building you that house and it's going to be purple."

"Why so set on purple?"

He slowed to a near crawl, pondering over his word choice. "Well, you said at the party purple was your dads favourite colour. Take it as a gift of good faith, I am dating his daughter after all."

Clem could only hope there was enough hair left to hide her burning ears. "He would like you." She whispered just for him, despite being alone.

"You think so?" The glee in his voice was obvious, his posture straightening up.

"If he didn't I'd make him. He had a pretty good singing voice, I'm sure you'd sing duets together, driving both me and my mom crazy." If this were a normal world that is. Perhaps they would go to high school together, go to the movies, skip class or whatever it was teenagers would do. Hiding from walkers would be replaced with games of tag, repeated bowls of rice would become pizza and endless junk food.

"You okay?"

Her fantasy world gone before her eyes just as quickly as it appeared, Clem ran a hand over her shadowed face, repressing the tears that always threatened her when she considered all that could have been. "I miss them."

"Sorry, shouldn't have brought them up." Louis kissed the top of her head, hoping it would soothe her subtle trembling. The original task of cutting her hair now gone from both their minds as they basked in this secret grief. A grief they both knew the other felt, grief for a world long gone from their grasp.

Her hand slid over the top of his, intertwining their fingers, her thumb tracing each line and callous present. Memorising everything about him. "No, it's fine. Really, I'm glad I can talk to you about them."

He squeezed her hand, letting this moment sink into his heart. It was moments like these he would turn to on his more difficult nights, where monsters pulled themselves out of every dark corner. She was a light, protecting him in more ways than she knew. "You wanna know a secret? Sometimes I'm thankful for the apocalypse."

"You're what now?"

"Think about it. You used to live in Georgia, we probably never would have met had you not needed to bounce between cities for survival," He spoke gently into her hair, never breaking away from her. "I know we've lost people, I've made plenty of mistakes, but if going through all that meant I got to meet you, you best believe I'd do it all again."

And there it was, a confession that completely destroyed and rescued both of them.

Clementine couldn't bear to look at him, for her own self-restraint lest she become a puddle of tears. Grabbing onto the lining of his coat, she pulled herself into his inviting arms, burying her head in the warm crook of his neck. "You always talk about how you're the lucky one," Swallowing the strong lump within her throat, she bore her heart to him. "You may not have been the one to drag me out of that car crash, but you saved me that day and continue to every day since. It's always been the other way around."

His words got caught somewhere between his heart and his mouth, an amalgamation of thoughts moulding together in his mind. He stood there, unsure of when he had dropped the scissors and his arms had clung to her waist, gripping her tighter than before. The two fit together like pieces of a puzzle, completing each other. "Well...I think that's just about the most romantic thing anyone has ever told me," They both laughed in unison, now admiring each other's soft eyes. Their arms still wrapped around the other, not wanting to depart just yet. "Thank you, Clementine. Perhaps we're both lucky."

He planted a chaste kiss to her nose as their foreheads collided, his fingers drawing intricate circles on her lower back. "You're right," Her voice now back to a whisper only meant for his ears. "I don't want a normal world if it means you're not apart of it."

They could have remained within that tiny bathroom holding each other for a lifetime. Instead, they both let their young love mend the cracks of their past. His heart thumped from deep within, echoing in her ear. The slow, rhythmic beat had lulled her to sleep many nights. Even his heart made beautiful music.

"I have one last question for you," Clementine asked, no more traces of pain or regret laced within her words.

Louis glanced down at her, marvelling at their height difference. "Go ahead."

She beamed up at him, her chin prodding his chest. There was that devilish gleam in her eyes once again, unmatched by her innocent smile. "Does my hair look bad?"

#twdg #the walking dead game #the walking dead game season four #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdgs4 #telltales the walking dead #twdg clouis #twdg louisentine #clem x louis #twdg fanfic #twdg s4 #clouis #louisentine #fanfiction #scullyy #YAY DAISY #<3 #clouis gang

[smolbeandrabbles]

Faster Gun - Payne x Reader (Slow West)

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ @wrenx02​ #MendoTagSquad

Payne + 21 - “I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.” Requested by @sufferthesea​ (Happy belated 25th Birthday!!)

Author’s Note: The first fic of my 100 Sentence prompt requests! I hope you enjoy all of these, and what I’ve done with the sentences you’ve chosen! 😁 Or... I guess in the case, the sentence you let me choose! (Line highlighted!) Please enjoy! 💙🙏💜

Faster Gun - Little Big Town

Disclaimer: Slow West Characters not mine / gif not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: You didn’t ever exactly want a tour guide, but Payne didn’t give you much a choice. That’s alright with you, he’s about to find out you can put up a hell of a fight...

Words: 2202

Warnings: Swearing / ...ehhhh, like a tiny little bit of sexual banter

______ You walk in six gun style Put another bullet in the chamber with your smile You move in and you don't stop Till your pretty little finger pulls the trigger and the hammer drops Cold steel, gun powder kiss Livin' for the taste of new blood on your lips Your high noon is a midnight moon Puttin' every Jesse James to shame with your killshot move Love for you is like a wild west movie You always end up on the run You draw quick and your aim is deadly And then you ride off in the sun Someday I hope you find a faster gun ---

You’d never particularly liked frequenting saloon bars when you travelled. Always too much trouble for a girl like you to get into. Even in the company of someone else, your eyes still darted from table to table before you even considered settling down at the bar. Payne didn’t really care much for that, all he wanted was a glass of something. You followed him slowly, checking that everyone else was keeping to themselves before you sat beside him, satisfied. “Don’t know why you think you’re so special, darlin’ – No one’s paying you any mind.” You folded your arms with a scoff as you regarded him – considering the kind of vulgar commentary he’d been running as he escorted you, you were sure at least one person in here thought you were worth the attention he was giving. Even when it was unwelcomed. He wouldn’t be your first choice of escort. You just happened to be a victim of circumstance. Payne had caught you off guard, repacking your things after your night at camp – and you knew he was trouble from the second you saw that smug little smirk; “Well, well, what do we have here?” You were a quick draw, but unfortunately his gun was already cocked and aimed at you. You narrowed your eyes at him, “Why don’t you just move on-!?” “And leave a girl like you all alone out here?” He gestured, not daring to take his eyes off you just in case you ended up being a decent shot, “Why don’t you let me escort you.” He didn’t expect the venom in your spat reply; “Fuck you, I’m fine alone. Probably better that way.” Your eyes traced him for a moment; he certainly looked like a whole lot of trouble. “Now, is that any way to talk to someone who is offering safe passage West?” “I don’t need your help!” You said, through gritted teeth. But it was obvious neither of you were going to budge on this. “We appear to have reached an impasse, darlin’.” “DON’T call me darling-!” That only riled you further, but apparently it only amused him. “Well you got two options, you come with me – to wherever you’re headed… or I could just kill you.” You raised an eyebrow; “Yeah, I’d like to see you try.” Although if you were honest you didn’t see the point of coming all this way just for some opportunistic asshole to shoot you. Still, neither of you were giving an inch, so you decided to be the bigger person and holster your pistol, taking it just a little on faith that he wouldn’t actually just kill you now. He didn’t, and placed his own away. You were still watching him warily as you mounted your horse. “So, where’s a pretty thing like you headed, anyhow?” You shrugged, ignoring the ‘compliment’; “Maybe the mountains… maybe I just want to know what’s beyond them.” Although your eyes flicked suspiciously to him; he better not think he was taking you all the way there. “Why would you want to escort me?” “I wouldn’t mind the company-” Your eyes narrowed and you cut in sharply before he got any further “If you think for one second that I-” “Ah! Now there’s an idea.” He smirked, and then laughed at your expression; “Now, I don’t think I caught your name, sweetheart? I’m Payne.” “Y/N.” He liked that, but not the glare you were giving him, “And I’m NOT your sweetheart.” “Can’t blame me for trying…” He urged his horse to fall inline with yours; “I think we’re gonna be good friends, Y/N.” You hated that he insisted on giving that slightly sexual edge to your name, and gave it about 2 hours before it pissed you off enough to want to kill him. Irked you even more that Payne suggested you’d be ‘friends’. Instead you kept your gaze ahead of you, and your voice steady; “We’ll see.” You constantly let him know that you weren’t overly impressed with your predicament, and for the first couple of days you were cold and distant. Payne liked running his mouth, and you were very nearly the opposite until you could trust someone to tell them anything. Obviously it was wise not to trust him as far as you could throw him. “Not very talkative are ya?” As if to prove his point, you responded only by shooting him a look. But as you were forced to spend your time with him, you found yourself warming to Payne’s ways. He still annoyed you, but you found yourself at least partial to liking him. And the more you found your attitude changing, the more talkative you got. Which pleased him no end. He was something of an awful flirt though, and you revelled in the opportunity to coldly shut him down when he took it a step too far. Payne never slipped into anything more than words, which was a good choice on his part (and he knew it) because you’d have killed him on the spot, even if you had to do it with your bare hands. Still, he noticed that in groups of people you were always uneasy, how you’d move a little closer to him. Payne never asked why that was, and he wasn’t sure you’d respond to him even if he did. Especially as on the times you’d both run into trouble you were a quicker shot than even he was. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed – but it was yet another question Payne wouldn’t be voicing. Who’d taught you to be that good? Why would a girl like you ever feel the need to be that good? Your unease made him conscientious enough to make sure that your rest breaks in towns were minimal – but sometimes he just needed the respite of not having to set up camp. So now you found yourself at the bar, where he ordered you two glasses of absinthe – this also came of no great surprise to you, considering how much of it he drank. Having said that, he’d built up a tolerance to it, and you were more than just a little careful with your measures. “You tryna kill me?” “I’d say it was probably the opposite!” Payne clinked his glass to yours and took a sip “Mmmh. Yeah that’s good stuff.” You shook your head at him slowly and turned to your glass, studying everything from the measure to the shade of green. Before he nudged you, “Look, Y/N! Will you just drink the damn thing or I’ll do it for you!” “I’m getting to it!” You pushed him back with a smile, “Give a girl a sec-!” As you continued laughing to yourselves, you’d created quite the stir in the rest of the saloon. It was quiet between tables – and now your guard was down and you were drinking. See, the reason you were so wary of everyone else was you had a substantial bounty on your head. A lot of people you’d had the misfortune to meet knew this – and there wasn’t one that wouldn’t take advantage of the opportunity to take such a bounty for themselves. Considering you knew Payne was a bounty hunter (one of the many things he’d casually mentioned during your many conversations) you were surprised he didn’t know. Or that wasn’t the reason he’d picked you up in the first place; either that or he was playing the long game, and if he was you were impressed. The whispers began to stir, and although you were listening to your companion you were aware of the strange hostility suddenly building in the room. Ah, shit. The hand not tipping your drink back reached to click the safety off your pistol. Payne clapped his hand to your shoulder; “Thata girl!” causing you to almost spit the bright green alcohol all over the bar. You swallowed with a cough and were about to turn to him to offer your sarcastic thanks, when in the bottom of the glass you caught the reflection of movement behind you. “SHIT!” You exclaimed, slamming the glass on the bar you whipped around – your shot rang out, but he wasn’t alone. You realised maybe a little too late that the whole saloon was up on its feet. You have GOT to be kidding-!? But you didn’t have much time to think beyond your trigger finger and your bullets flew in rapid succession; before you ran out of them and immediately turned to Payne – who was both stunned and useless. Snatching his gun (thankful it was loaded) you dispatched a few more, movement across the bar allowing you to dodge flying bullets and take a little bit of cover whilst collecting further scores of loaded weapons. All the while you noticed that Payne would rather sit back and watch; and wasn’t taking any fire himself. That only lead to you jumping to obvious conclusions; Asshole! I KNEW IT! The last shot rang out and the final body collapsed onto the floor; you stood shakily and brushed yourself down, blowing out a breath. “What a mess…” “Fucking extraordinary, though.” Your eyes flicked to Payne, still sitting on the bar stool – eyes wide and slow blinking as he surveyed the damage. Your pistol arm shot up immediately to turn his own gun straight at him. Payne bolted from his seat hands up; “WOAH! Y/N! Don’t take this the wrong way-!” “You expect me to believe you didn’t have something to do with this-!?” “Why would you think that-!?” “They didn’t appear to be shooting at YOU!” The accusation in your voice was apparent. “They were all so interested in you-!” As you kept walking towards him he paced backwards; he had no line of defence. “How did so many know I was going to be here, huh?” “That’s bad luck! That’s not on me, when have I had time to tell anyone?!” “You have a group, that’s what you said…” Your eyes flashed and your finger didn’t falter on that trigger. Payne inclined his head, yeah he had a gang, but he hadn’t seen them for a while since he was busy with you. Then his eyes flicked back to the barrel of the pistol, realising there were more pressing issues at hand. “But you wouldn’t want to waste a bullet, right?” You raised an eyebrow; “Huh?” He grinned, “I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.” Then cleared his throat; “I mean, that’s not something you have to test – you should know it’s the truth.” He waved his hands towards everyone else, “They all knew, that’s why they didn’t bother.” You very nearly laughed, but instead kept walking, hand steady; “Uh huh. Which is why you don’t want me to shoot you?” “Like I say, waste of precious resources… clearly you need ‘em.” You were a few steps from him now, hard look in your eyes that he couldn’t place. Angry and powerful; and had certainly just proved yourself a formidable force. “I’m impressed, though.” You didn’t think he needed to voice it, behind the slight fear in his eyes that you were quite capable of pulling that trigger, his expression said it all; fairly soon it faded to a cocky little smirk; “So, you have a bounty!” “Yeah.” By now the barrel of the gun was against Payne’s chest, and he had to be very careful with his choice of words if he didn’t want to end up like the rest of the patrons. “I do.” “Well, I don’t know about that, but I suggest that maybe you aught to tell the guy you hired as an escort that kind of information before he took you all the way across the West, huh?” You flashed a smirk of your own; “Wow, tell a bounty hunter I have a bounty. Sounds like a smart move for a girl trying to be careful.” By now the metal was digging into his skin, and Payne really had to hope against hope that you were being playful. You drew a breath, and that smirk become a sweet smile, blink bringing your eyes back to the gentle warmth he sometimes caught a glimpse of; “It’s good I like you.” “Oh? Why’s that?” Payne didn’t need to ask, because suddenly you’d yanked him to your lips by his coat. Your grip was strong, and even if he’d have wanted to Payne couldn’t have pulled away. Instead he went where you dragged him, arms winding around you and hands firm on your body – you knew he wouldn’t leave them respectful. You didn’t give a damn though; right now you wanted him wherever he’d place them and the kiss became hot, hungry and passionate as you backed him into the bar. He growled into the kiss, pulling back for just a second, eyebrow raised. That smug smirk of his hasn’t really dissipated; “So that’s how it is, huh?” His eyes flicked to the back of the room, and that look on his face became suggestive; “Y’know… this place has guest rooms.” You sighed with a gentle head shake; “Payne. Just shut the fuck up for once in your life and keep kissing me, damn it!”

--- Thank you for Requesting!! Thank you for reading!! 😘😘😘

1/16 down!

#Slow West #Payne #Ben Mendelsohn #Linzi Writes Requests #Linzi Writes #Elera #I thought my Modern!Payne thing would come up first but I'm having a few difficulties with getting that /exactly/ right #so it was nice to get some work in here-! #Smol Bean Drabbles #145 #At least one of you already knows this song! And likes it! Yay! #I hope this was a lovely surprise! #Like I say sometimes I like telling everyone what's coming - sometimes I like leaving you to find out as I post-! #it's such a stupid sentence but I love it which is why I picked it!!! #For anyone who requested and is still reading (HI!) everything is about 2000 words so far! #A nice length-! #You know the most I read this back the more I like it #Another writing Angel helped me with this one :)

[hippriestess]

Part 3 - “ I thought we had some kind of agreement but with you it was just prurience”

So, where were we. Ah yes....Record Store Day 2019.

It was, perhaps inevitably, a heavy day for Fall fans. Lead-in times both for the manufacture of vinyl records and for participation in RSD are such that Smith's death came too late for the impact to be evident in the 2018 event but for 2019, we were absolutely flooded in a way that caused some, quite rightly, to question the judgement of the organisers in allowing so many obvious vultures to swoop in for an easy bite. 

The “monitor mixes” from the 2CD edition of “The Unutterable” were pressed to vinyl for the first time. “Whoo-fucking-pee” quoth the faithful and you will have absolutely no difficulty acquiring it today should you be down to few enough marbles for it to seem like a good investment. BMG hold the rights to the group's Rough Trade recordings and went with a box set of five 7” singles under the awful title “Medicine For The Masses”. This was the exact same format as “The Rough Trade Singles Box” from 2002 although with the bonus of containing the correct Peel Session versions of “Container Drivers” and “New Puritan” (Castle/Sanctuary had updated the 5 disc CD edition once they had acquired the rights to the BBC tracks but the vinyl edition of Italy's Earmark Records retained the Grotesque and Totale's Turns versions used in the initial pressings). Given not only that none of this material is any way scarce but that an excellent single LP release had been given to all 10 tracks in the box (Peel takes included) by US imprint Superior Viaduct in 2018, it was perhaps inevitable that “Medicine For The Masses” pretty much flopped on the day and can now be acquired brand new for a good £10 less than the asking price on the day itself.

Ah yes, Superior Viaduct, let's not forget them. A well-regarded reissue label with a smattering of current artists, they had already issued some Fall vinyl in 2016/2017, putting all the studio albums up to “Perverted By Language” back onto vinyl as well as the first 2 singles and the eternally category-defying “Slates” 10”. Following Smith's passing, they have (almost) completed the task with the aforementioned “Rough Trade Singles” LP and a new pressing of “Totale's Turns”. These editions have been very well received and have been praised for the quality both of the mastering and of the pressings but they remain largely inaccessible to UK fans due to licensing restrictions preventing the editions from being imported. As such, you'll hafta pick these up on a one-to-one basis off your own bat.

Right, back to Record Store Day 2019. We also had the “opportunity” to buy a number of live albums. 5 of them, in fact. All of these had previously been released on CD towards the end of 2018...so this was going to be called Crap Rap Part 14 but it's now called “Stop Releasing Every Gig You Can Find On Some Mouldy Third Generation Maxell C90 on a double LP”

Live albums have always been canon with The Fall. “Totale's Turns” was their 3rd LP release, “Live In London 1980” was issued by Chaos Tapes with the group's permission in 1982, “Fall In A Hole” was allowed until copies were exported. We had “Seminal Live” and “The 27 Points” mixing live with studio, as did “I Am Kurious Oranj” with several tracks recorded during the original Edinburgh run of the ballet. Even the “Perverted By Language Bis” video was largely live material. Even once the shark was jumped in the late 90s/early 00s with the endless recycling of those outtake/live compilations, there were official live missives, such as the excellent “Last Night At The Palais” in 2009, the wonderfully titled but patchy “Uurop VIII-XII Places in Sun & Winter, Son” in 2014 though to the terrible “Live In Clitheroe” in 2017. So, all in, it comes as no surprise at all that over 20 more live albums have been added to The Fall's discography since Smith's sad departure from this realm.

There were no less than 5 live albums dumped merrily onto the shelves for RSD 2019, 3 of them doubles. On their own, this would have been an outlay of over £100...in fact, if you wanted the full RSD Fall, you'd have had little or no change on the day from £250. For exactly no unreleased music. No unreleased music? What were these live albums then? Let's wind back to late in 2018... (I told you this was tough to do in any kind of linear fashion).

Arriving via the PledgeMusic site, “Set Of Ten” released by “Cog Sinister”, worked like this: 10 previously unreleased live recordings were contained in a sturdy square box with spiffy new artwork from Pascal LeGras. The tariff? £100. Ouch. Now, a handful of them were announced as separate releases, however, if you bought the box you would receive an exclusive disc – a recording from Derby, 1994. Cometh the hour, the Derby CD was one of the first to be released on its own. Huh.

A small amount of digging revealed that this set was the work of Rob Ayling. With the dates running from 1980 to 1999, the general opinion re: Set Of Ten was that these tapes were very likely to be in Ayling's possession due to the “Live From The Vaults” series on Voiceprint, Ayling's previous imprint, from 2005. When that series was announced, the five releases were said to be simply the first batch.  It could therefore be deduced that these tapes had been destined for future batches. At the time, there was a minor dust-up over them and no further volumes were issued. Whatever the motivations, presenting an 11 CD set of old bootlegs with so little quality control being put into the audio and asking £100 for it felt like cold ash in the mouth. Worse still, PledgeMusic went bust before many customers could receive their sets, leaving them to either claim chargebacks on their credit cards or simply out of pocket as ordinary creditors to the failed business. It must have been galling for those who lost money to see the CDs arriving on their own and several cut onto expensive vinyl.

I've picked up a couple of the CDs separately and these have been largely fine. Recording quality is listenable but obviously audience derived. The best one by far of those I've heard is “Live 23rd June 1981 @ Jimmy's Music Club New Orleans”, a great recording of a full-tilt Fall performance from a critical time in their existence (pictured) . There's a palpable tension, possibly due to the return of Burns, brought back not just out of practicalities but also to even the group up a bit, now that Smith was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of having a team of childhood friends for a group. Rehiring Burns was designed to put some grit back into the machine and it worked. Having a full set from this line-up is a worthy addition to the canon and it should be snapped up before it vanishes – this is the only one of the “Set Of Ten” CDs that seems to be thin on the ground. The artwork and credits show the level of care taken over the release; that is – pretty much none. The CD artwork has the 6 piece “Hex” line-up – Karl Burns is the only drummer here as Paul Hanley was at home doing his O Levels. However, the sleeve credits Paul Hanley and not Burns, adding a credit for Duncan Burndred, who was the group's driver at the time. The info had been sourced from the “Slates & Dates” press release which credited Burndred with “the rest” (ie anything other than music and management). Likely pilfered from thefall.org, this missive was retooled for the artwork without any real consideration.

However, it seems there was sufficient demand out there and, cometh the tail end of 2019, cometh another Set of Ten, given the snappy title...”Another Set Of Ten”. They must have been up all fucking night thinking of that one. Again, it has 11 discs. It does get interesting here insofar as most of the tapes come from between 2009 and 2013 suggesting not only that there wasn't much left from the original “Vaults”- destined batch but also making it unclear from whom these tapes were being licenced. They are, of course, under no obligation to discuss such matters publicly and, indeed the current incarnation of Cog Sinister would likely feel aggrieved at having the question asked. They are, after all, a legitimate enterprise. 

A quick skwizz at the Discogs page tells you that “Another Set Of Ten” is not a triumph; all the tapes are listed as being audience tapes, one disc has just six songs from the gig and several others are also incomplete and/or mislabelled. The main contributor to the Discogs entry (to whom, hello!) notes that the tracklistings appear to be taken from photographs of setlists uploaded to thefall.org's justly revered and thoroughly sublime gigography but, where the setlist didn't match what was played, no attempt has been made to correct this. They haven't even matched up the content with the tracklistings!!! At time of writing, these ones are just starting to slip into the shops on their own, possibly Covid delayed as you could get them via online retailers for a while. The cover for a Manchester gig from 2009 looked like a sick joke and it was hard not to think similar (albeit at lower pitch) about the inclusion of an infamous Motherwell gig at which MES was completely plastered and Brix had quit the band an hour or so before the show. What's next? Worthing? Brownies?

Yet it is very hard not to be continually tempted. There's some juicy setlists in these discs and the artwork at least has some effort – Pascal LeGras has done a very fine job here and his art certainly gives the right feel to the releases. I'm guessing that was the plan. I’ve got my eye on a few. It’s a disease this, I tell you...

Anyway, one way of the other, 5 of the “Set Of Ten” discs found their way onto vinyl on RSD, courtesy of reissue imprint Let Them Eat Vinyl and all of these are still easy to score, should you wish. The whole Gonzo/Let Them Eat Vinyl hookup is interesting for scholars of who-owns-what in terms of The Fall's catalogue. As above, we know that BMG have the Rough Trade recordings but LTEV's “Grotesque”, issued in 2017, states it is licensed by Sanctuary.

LTEV have also been putting some of the other lesser releases from the catalogue onto vinyl, including 2 mid 90's live albums (Phoenix 1995 and “The Idiot Joy Show” - nothing that was wasn't available for buttons on CD in the early 00s) as well as “Interim”, the demos and live cobble-together that attempted to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory in 2004. The latter had never been pressed to vinyl before and with bloody good reason.  Yr mileage, as always, may vary.

Whilst not The Fall, acolytes will doubtless want to know that Ed Blaney issued a 2CD edition of “The Train”, containing the full 40-minute “(Part Three)” CD, a similarly lengthed alternate version and a clutch of remixes. Blaney also uploaded a properly touching tribute to Smith on YouTube, including reminiscences with other friends of Smith.

One more part to come, in which we burn the spotlight of shame onto a couple of the worst products ever to have had the name The Fall unwillingly emblazoned upon their sleeves and take a quick look over some of what we know is in the pipeline.

#the fall #mark e smith

[shinos-artblog]

November 3rd: (154 - Multiverse AU ) ishimondoweek2019

(THIS IS NOT MY BEST WORK, I APOLOGIZE WORK HAS BEEN CRAZY AND I HAVEN’T WRITTEN A FANFIC IN A LONG TIME. but enjoy my first piece for the first day!)

“This s’ not fuckin’ happenin’ right now, there s’ no way in hell I’ll be stuck like this fer who knows how damn long!” Mondo growled and looked to his left, there was a different version of Kiyotaka who was hanging tightly on his arms. A Kiyotaka with white hair and fiery eyes was literally drooling on him, whose whole body language screamed trouble and was tracing his fingers up and down his arms. Commenting on how big and strong he was. He looked to his Ishimaru, the real Kiyotaka who had a version of his own self next to him, ‘that’ Mondo looked older and he actually wondered if somehow in this world that’s how he would turn out in a few years. “I wanna know why I got trapped wit th’ crazy you!”

“Kyoudai if I knew how and why this is all happening don’t you think I would want to change it back too? We are trying to figure this machine out! I am not very mechanically inclined and if the school board knows that I broke something on school property I’ll surly be stripped of my title! What an awful  thought!” Kiyotaka bit his lip and started tearing up, it was killing him just to know everything he worked so hard for could end up in ruined. That was before he felt a gentle yet rough hand touch his shoulder. It was weird but it was almost comforting to know that someone was trying to be the calm factor in all this, though he never figured of all people it would come from Mondo. Well, the older version of Mondo.

“Oii, don’t worry ‘bout it yeah? Well figure this shit out fer sure. Its not like we can rush a process that probably took them years to do. But still… I wonder how in th’ hell I got sucked into this. The older biker scratched his chin confused, this kind of stuff was definitely not his forte either. He wasn’t the brightest in the world, but he did know some here and there about machines at least. Having always worked on his own bike and being a carpenter you learn a few trades. But as he thought more and more about the situation there was a certain name that came to mind. “Ah! Hey, I remember somethin’, a guy named Kazuichi. I know he was th’ best damn builder ‘round in my universe, do you guys ave’ anyone like that?”

The real universes Mondo and Kiyotaka eyed each other in question but both shook their head. “Naw, I ain’t ever heard of someone like that. If they ain’t in my class or in my gang or gang related I ain’t heard of shit.”

Kiyotaka nodded in agreement, says “I am very diligent of everyone I need to be cautious of but I have never encountered someone like that, much that I can recall...” Kiyotaka knitted his eyebrows together tightly, scrunched his nose and pinched the bridge of it. He was trying hard to remember if he knew anyone who could help them wit this so called- ‘dimension-crossing super-collider’

“Well I for one don’t wanna fuckin’ go, I want to stay here with Kyoudai!” The albino, generously named Ishida for his weird mix of both his and Kiyotaka’s personalities clung even more tightly to his arms. He looked up to him with these big drooping eyes, ones that seemed as though he were a love-sick puppy. “My Kyoudai died in my universe, I am nothing without my damn Mondo!” Jumping up from the floor he wrapped his arms around Mondo’s neck and laughed, giggling like a manic and it choked the biker gently as his body pulled downwards with the weight. He reached out his arms for help but was ignored by the carpenter and his own Kiyotaka who turned towards each other still talking about the mysterious helper as he was left to take care of the crazy.

“Ya know, pink hair? Sharp teeth? I think th’ dude was a year older than me--?”

“Ah yes yes, that sounds so awfully familiar! I must know someone like that, maybe someone I've given a detention slip too!”

“Oii, hello! Hey can one of ya fuckers help me out?!”

“Now now Kyoudai, they are giving us the alone time we need!~”

Gwhaa!?!”

Kiyotaka grabbed his head hard, he felt useless trying to figure out this very difficult equation when it hit him. “Oh! I remember!” He hit his hand and the ex-bikers face lit up, grabbing his shoulders and grinning widely. He knew he could do it, he had faith he was always smarter than anyone else he ever knew. “It was Kazuichi Souda! He was an upperclassmen before we came to be the seniors of this school, maybe there is someway we can reach him! I do recall him hanging out with Gundam Tanaka, him and I were quite friendly, he was very enjoyable to talk to! I could reach out!”

“Damn, that’s my Kyoudai! Always thinkin’ ahead of everyone else!” He laughed and ruffled Kiyotaka’s hair quickly, getting down to his level and grinning the entire time. It made Kiyotaka’s heart flutter just a tad, he could not help it of course even though this was an older version of his Mondo he was still his Mondo. The one he came to know and fall in love with. And quite frankly, he was very handsome as an adult. It made him even more excited to one day hopefully grow up old together with Mondo. In fact, it was one thing he wanted to ask the carpenter in private if he and his Kiyotaka were a couple still to this day. Even in another universe.

And as Mondo stared at the two sharing their little intimate moment the gang leader felt a pang of jealousy. His lips pursed and he growled out a loud “AHEM” and stomped forward up to the carpenter dragging Ishida along with him even though the weight of him was slowing him down but it would not stop him from being aggressive towards anyone who stood in his way. Even himself. “Oii, listen ‘ere old man you better back away from my damn boyfriend before I knock yer fuckin’ teeth out!” He hissed angrily as the older narrowed his gaze, looking down just slightly at his younger self with a sneer.

“Kid you got another thing comin’ that’s fer damn sure. S’ides if hes lookin’ at me like that then maybe you jus’ ain’t doin’ it fer him ever think of that?”

“What did ya say ‘ta me ya damn dirty old geezer?! I’ll fuckin’ kill you!” But as he lunged forward, Ishida being thrown off Kiyotaka quickly stepped in-between the two large brutes before anything else could go awry. Really he has no idea how he can handle two angry Mondo’s at the same time, one hot head was enough and it ached in his skull at how aggravating they were becoming.

“Cease and desist this very instant! You two are acting like complete children honestly! And Oowada-San, I expected much more from you then to stoop to the low of a high schooler! And Kyoudai, we’ve talked about your anger issues, this is no way to settle your problems remember?” Both Mondo’s grumbled and cursed under their breath, apologizing at the same time. When it came to Kiyotaka they really weren't allowed to say no. Not to him.

“Excuse me, while all of you are arguing over Kiyotaka here, you are missing out on me! I’m willing to do whatever you want, anything either of you Mondo’s want!” Ishida laughed gently and sighed happily as he eyed both of them. A side sharp fang slipped down on his lip to bite it as his face flushed with the possibilities of two Mondo’s being with him. At the same time he began to drool and all decided it was equally a good idea to ignore him.

It was hard to believe for the perfect that someone so… unruly and belligerent was him in another dimension. Honestly it was much to embarrassing to even admit that they were the same person. He did feel bad for the albino however, without his Mondo he must be lonely. Its obvious he is begging for attention, something he probably doesn't get too often. The same could be said for him before he met the biker. Bitterness touched his lips thinking if maybe he should just keep him here but-- he knew he didn’t belong unfortunately. “As we were saying, we should really figure out how to come in contact with Kazuichi-San.” Kiytoaka began as he heard a loud shout of ‘HEY YOU ASSHOLES!?’ in the background but chose to ignore the brash language spewing out his own mouth.

Though it must have been fate, that brought them all together in this weird twist of events because as they were talking someone clicked the door open to the basement in which they found the dimension-collider. A strange voice called out; “Hey Hey, is someone down here?!” Blood ran cold as Kiyotaka heard the strange man shout and his face paled. He grabbed both Mondo’s by the arm knowing Ishida would follow and hid behind the machine. The mysterious figure stepped closer and closer and he was terrified it might be a teacher, they would get in trouble and he started to cry again and his Mondo grabbed, whispering that it was gonna be okay to him. The older biker was getting ready to fight just in case it was someone dangerous who was trying to use this invention for evil and Ishida was ready to burst out at any moment just to be seen.

That wasn’t until they all saw the person in view. “Kazuichi?!” all yelled in unison at the pink haired man. It scared the mechanic half to death as he screamed ‘G-GHOSTS!’ he tried to run away but was caught quickly by all three while Kiyotaka stood back, sighing softly at the aggressiveness of all of them. Souda started crying hard thinking he was going to die but they told him to knock it off, that their real and this is real. Sniffling hard he turned around, his sharp shark teeth baring at the sight of two different versions of the regular kids in front of him.

“W-Wait, was this cus’ of...my machine?” He whispered softly and everyone went wide eyed.

“This is your machine?” Kiyotaka questioned, cocking his head to the side. “I had no idea a student could make something so advanced as this!? Your gift is truly a talent! Your parents must be awfully proud of you!”

Souda nodded, even if the proud parents thing wasn’t true, smiling a bit softly as his skin tinted at the praise. He usually gets shot down for the things he does so it was nice getting a little recognition. “Yup, built the beauty with my own two hands! But I had no idea it would even work, I still had a lot ‘ta do from this blueprint...damn can’t believe you guys got it to work! This is great news now I can show it off ta’--!”

“NO!” again, all of them shouted together and it was quite impressive how in sync they all were despite their differences. Souda tilted his head and asked why not? It obviously worked, he could make millions off this kind of invention. Even though he was building it for someone else, he would hate to see all his hard work go down the drain.

“This thing is dangerous! You could bring back the wrong people, who knows how many dimensions there are out there! Aren’t you worried? It could affect everyone’s lives!” Kiyotaka shouted, obviously upset as tears began pouring down his face. He always got like this when talking about something passionate. But everyone agreed, it was too dangerous in the wrong hands. If anyone else would have stumbled across this machine they were sure someone would have brought back the wrong types of people.

It didn’t look like Souda was taking it seriously though, he still argued that it was a great idea. That they just don’t understand the wonders and good it will bring. “B-But wit this you can go back and warn your old self of dangers! Like, too not let bullies change you!” There was almost this intense sadness coming from whatever part he needed to keep this contraption alive, like someone had dug it into his skull it was for the best but if anyone could force someone to change their ways it was Mondo.

The two Mondo’s and Ishida even joined in picking Souda up by his collar and barked at him like wild animals. They were all yelling at him, telling him to fix it, to make it better, to send them home, and each time someone says something Kiyotaka could see the fear, the distraught in the pink haired mechanics face and he bit his lip. This was wrong, it wasn’t the way to go about it… so slowly, he walked up and placed his hands on the bodies. All three turned in anger but when they saw him, that sad look in his eyes they all backed off with a whimper.

Kiyotaka looked at Souda who was on the verge of tears again, and if by some strange fate he felt this strong connection with the older. They were both bullied it seemed but it just took a different toll on them. Softly he put his hands on his shoulder, it was soft, warm and kind and Souda looked up at him. “Please Kazuichi-Kun...they can’t stay here, and you can’t continue this project. You know it will only end poorly so I beg you, help us and then destroy it.”

It took awhile but sadly he nodded, sniffled and agreed. “Yeah… I guess yer right. I just figured it might make me popular you know?”

“The only thing that will make you even more cool than you are now, is too keep working hard at the things you love!” It was lame and stupid but damn did it work.

Souda began working on the machine, pressing some buttons, tightening some things, his Mondo, the  older and Ishida helped with the heavy lifting, moving some pieces were the mechanic needed them. And after what seemed like hours he was finally able to reverse what had been done, wiping the sweat off his forehead he sighed and plopped down on the ground. “There… that should do it.” Pressing the button it glowed bright and blue, it was so blinding and Ishida huffed and puffed about not wanting to really leave, he only helped cause Mondo asked him. But Mondo was able to convince him that he needed to. That if he would he’s sure things will be alright. It took a bit but Ishida nodded and lept into the portal/

“I’ll see you mother fudgers on the flip side!” He waved us off with a wink, Kiyotaka looked over and saw Mondo sigh in relief that the crazy albino was finally gone. Honestly most of them were, he would have been too much to handle but as he looked upwards he saw the older Mondo making his way towards the machine, Kiyotaka tugged on the bottom of his lip quickly running up to him before he could say his last goodbyes.

“Wait, Oowada-San! I wanted to thank you for helping me, well most of the time… being a cool head! I never thought I would say that to you of all people! Hahaha!” Kiyotaka laughed loudly, his cheeks bright and colorful while the carpenter could only look on in sadness. The prefect watched, tilting his head in confusion. “Oowada-San? Is everything ok?” He had never seen that kind of look, the question he originally wanting to ask still hanging loosely on his lips.

“Heh… yeah… jus’ nice hearin’ ya laugh, s’ been awhile since I heard it.”

But as Kiyotaka heard that, he assumed his burning question was answered. The moral compass smiled softly and twirled his fingers together and said “Oh! I guess that means that the me in your universe and you aren’t a thing? Have you just not confessed? Was it work? I would really like to know so that I do not make the same mistake in the future!” And as hes yelling, Mondo tells him to stop, please. His lip is curling, and he can see the strained face hes making. The one his Mondo makes when hes on the verge of tears but does not want to cry.

“Actually...” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small ring, made of wood and carved with his initials on it. “I was gonna ask him to marry me, I had it all planned out and ready. I was an idiot...” He gripped the ring and grabbed Kiyotaka’s hands, placing the small object inside his palm and closed it for him. “I never got a chance ta’ ask him, It was my fault. He didn’t want to go, he said he wasn’t feeling well and I made him go anyway… he didn’t survive th’ crash.” He could see it, the guilt and anger building up inside him as he spoke. How regretful he felt. Kiyotaka gripped the ring hard and close to his chest, feeling the soft tears fall freely down his face silently.

“I’m so sorry...” His voice croaked, hiccuping and trying to wipe away his tears.

“S’ a’right ya know? I jus’ don’t want him ta’ make th’ same mistake as me…” His thumb pointed over to the younger Mondo, who looked on at them both as if something were wrong. “So if he tries to convince ya and you got a bad feelin’ jus’ fuckin’ yell at him ya hear?! And hold onto that ring… at least fer me. Since I couldn’t give it ta’ mine.” The overwhelming feeling in his chest nearly made it burst as Kiyotaka yelled out.

“YES! OF COURSE!” Blushing slightly, his eyes red and puffy as the carpenter shuffled his hair once more, and thanked him. It was the softest he had ever heard from Mondo.

“Thanks kid… that means a lot.” And as he turned to walk away, his gazed turned towards his younger self and grinned. “Oii, and you ya asshole, make sure ya treat him right! Or I’ll be fuckin’ back!” A hearty laugh and he disappeared and as if this day had never even happened they were both gone. It was a tad bitter sweet on both boys but they were glad non the less that it was over. For now that is, Kiyotaka looked over to Souda and thanked him for helping them.

“I appreciate all the help Kazuichi-San, we could not have done this without you!”

“Ah, s’ no big deal really… but, I guess it’s for the better”

With a bow he noticed Mondo coming over and asked if he was alright. “Ya look a little down, ya ok Kiyo…?”

Kiyotaka looked into his hand with the ring still firmly in place and grinned softly. “Yes Mondo, I believe I will be. As long as I have you here by my side.”

#ishimondo #ishimondoweek2019 #day1 #ishimaru kiyotaka #mondo oowada #mondo #ishimaru #multiverse #IT WAS HARD MAKING THIS A ONE CHAPTER #so i skipped a head a few #but i hope you guys still enjoy! #;) #long post// #ishida kiyondo #ishida #I HAD TO ADD MY BOY #fanfic #shino writes

[yukiwrites]

The Pain of Distance

For Corrianderweek, Day 3: Thinking of Each Other, Even Apart

______________________________

The Rainbow Sage's words had been clear in guiding Kamui's path towards the Bottomless Canyon once and for all. The true battle would start once they all jumped towards the World Below.

In addition to the priceless information, the dragon princess' blade had received a new power -- once it conjoined with its sibling legendary weapons it would draw out the potential to slay an Old God.

There Kamui's ragtag army stood: at the borders of Notre Sagesse, stationed for the last night before they set out to fulfill their destiny. Needless to say, the princess was restless: sleep evaded her as did anxiety grasp her beating heart with its thin, unescapable claws. Sighing, Kamui sat under a far off tree, not wanting to let her allies see her look so disheartened -- they followed her for her enthusiasm, after all! She then did her own personal ritual to calm herself down; something that she's never failed on doing every single night since she left her rightful home, Nohr: She carefully took out the ring her beloved Xander had given her once upon a distant past -- so distant, in fact, it felt as though it all happened in a previous life.

Kamui closed her eyes, bringing the ring to her lips. But it hadn't been. She believed in Xander.

Memories of their rushed meeting at Cyrkensia flooded her mind, allowing her shoulders to sag visibly. Xander had believed in her then by simply looking in her eyes to see the love that still overflowed through them onto his own skin. He would believe in her again; she knew that.

She had faith in him. By believing in Xander, Kamui knew she could draw strength for her own self as well -- since she was only at her best while she had him by her side. She was only whole by having Xander with her, holding her hand, holding her diminutive body into his endless warmth... Ah, thinking of him truly did wonders to lighten Kamui's mood, though it brought an equally deep longing.

She wanted to see him! Oh, by the gods, she wanted to see him so very badly!

At her wits' end, Kamui barely fought back the tears, holding the ring so tightly inside her fist she felt her fingers growing numb.

The sensation of someone approaching snapped the princess out of her deviations, however, making her quickly stuff the necklace she hung ring onto, back under her armor. "Who's there?!" She got up, alarmed.

"Hush, do not make a fuss, child." A juvenile voice chided from the darkness of the forest, a small hand appearing out at the moonlight to call Kamui over. "C0me, and be quick about it!"

"Nyx?" Kamui tilted her head to the side. What could the young mage want, Kamui wondered? "Ah, are you feeling lonely? It IS your first night amongst so many strangers, isn't it? We can talk until-"

Nys groaned loudly, throwing her head back in disgust. "Would you please just come along quietly? And do not think me a helpless child! I am much, much older than you are." She lifted her hand before Kamui could even retort. "And no, I do not want to talk about it." She added, then sighed. "Just come with me, alright? I felt a very strange presence looming around camp and figured you, as the leader, should know about."

Kamui flinched, her hand instinctively reaching for her Yato. "Is it an enemy? Should we notify everyone?" She whispered, following Nyx's soundless steps closely. It was most interesting -- despite being shorter and supposedly a runaway, Nyx ported herself with the dignity and grace of a seasoned mage; the way her steps uttered no sound could only mean she was using magic to nullify it.

The mage took one finger to her lips, shushing calmly. "No... I do not think this is an evil presence per se, but it is most strange... Come, let us get closer so I can confirm it." Nyx led the way through tall and low vines, barely even touching the vegetation as she did so.

Once they've walked for a few minutes, Kamui herself started sensing something... odd in the air. It felt repugnant as only the Faceless did, though not in a dangerous way. It was most puzzling. "I think I know what you meant now, Nyx." She murmured, pulling a large leaf out of the way so she could cross from a tight tree trunk to another.

"Shh!" Nyx raised one hand. "There, see?" She pointed to an unsuspecting Faceless some good ten meters away from them, at the mouth of an extensive prairie.

Kamui squinted to be able to discern what was shadow and what was monster from the silhouette ahead of them, due to the poor moonlight shining down on them. Although one could not see its face due to the large steel mask, the Faceless seemed so at peace. It simply sat there over the grass, looking up at nowhere in particular, as though it was instructed to wait like a good boy.

There was something else, as well: the chains binding its hands and neck looked as though they were made out of gold -- they reflected the moonlight perfectly, as only very few artisans could aspire their golden crafts to.

"... That is no normal Faceless," Nyx stated the obvious, intent on adding, "those chains contain an astounding amount of magical power to bind it to obedience." Her voice was a bit above a whisper, but the moment the words left her lips, the Faceless made a sudden, sharp turn to look straight at them.

It then raised to its feet, walking towards the two in careful and slow steps, making Kamui dig her hand deep into Yato's handle, ready to strike at any suspicious movement. Well, more suspicious, anyway.

Nyx, however, stayed in place, observing the way the monster moved, her own magical power projecting itself towards the golden chains, tapping them to discern their origin.

However, as soon as hers and the monster's magic slightly touched, the Faceless started dissolving into dust. "Ah! Wait a moment-" Nyx gasped, running towards it.

As it dissolved, it simply knelt in front of them, extending both hands as though delivering something. Little by little did his body disappear, the hands the last ones to follow -- to their surprise, once they, too, disappeared, a letter with the seal of the Second Prince of Nohr took its place.

"LEO!" Kamui gasped loudly, accidentally bumping into Nyx as she ran past the mage to catch the letter before it was blown away by the wind. "What's this about- did Leo send this Faceless with a message?" She looked at both sides of the enveloppe before eagerly ripping it open.

"So it was like that..." Nyx pondered, placing one hand over her chin in thought. "This 'Leo' person must be a very skilled mage, to be able to rise a Faceless, bind it to obedience and make it travel this far out of the nohrian territory without alerting any other mages in the vicinity... Well, I was the exception, but that was to be expected. So that's what it was; I see." She finished her monologue, though it mostly fell to deaf ears as Kamui had started reading the contents of the letter. "So?" Nyx crossed her arms, trying and failing to peek over Kamui's shoulders. "What does it say?"

"T-there's-" Kamui's entire body trembled, her hands shaking so much she was barely able to discern what was written, "going to be an ambush at the Bottomless Canyon-" it took everything she had not to fall on her knees, her heart thumping so hard inside her chest she could barely hear her own voice. "B-but Leo says they'll arrive in time... Nohr is going to join us!" She laughed, not feeling the tears streaming down her face.

She was scared to read further -- the letter was almost at the end, but there was no mention of Xander anywhere... What if there was no word from him? Oh, Kamui couldn't bear-

As her thoughts spiralled in that direction, her own eyes focused on a dear, very much important word out of the blur that had become her sight: 'Xander'.

Xander! She thought eagerly, feeling her legs give out.

'PS: I can't make it very long because the length of the letter will influence the amount of magical power I'll need to use, but Xander was relentless in asking me to sign it as 'Altair'. Don't ask me why, though; I have no idea. Ask him once we meet, Sister. Yours, Leo.

- Altair'

"Ohh..." Kamui held the paper tightly into her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Her body shook with hiccups as her mind swirled with countless memories of hers and Xander's love.

The Separated Lovers.

The constellation they saw for the first and last time on the very day Xander had given Kamui her ring in a most wonderful proposal. "It'll change..." she sobbed, "to 'The United Lovers' s-soon... w-wahh!" She cried, curling over herself, her entire body longing to hear her beloved's voice.

To feel his touch, to embrace his warmth, to welcome his hot breath... Ah, how it hurt to long for someone she loved so deeply! She could only cry to voice her pain and emotion, crumpling the letter in a hug she could not yet give to the one she wanted to hold the most.

Nyx's awkward but resolute pat in Kamui's back set the princess off even more, the tears she had been holding back for so many months flowing without restriction.

She wanted to see him! So very badly!

Her wallowing echoed in the wind, being muffled by the loud gusts of the prairie -- giving her a place to cry and as much time as the night lasted.

At what seemed to be the other corner of the world, the darkness veiled an obscure castle built into a canyon. A lone, golden haired prince looked up to the stormy sky, wishing for good weather. "My Vega... No, my Kamui. Soon, my love. Soon, we will be together." He clutched his chest, closing his eyes. "Never to part again."

#corriander #kamarx #corrianderweek2019 #xander #kamui #nyx #fire emblem fates #my writings

[ficsinhistory]

,As the second season is over, I can finally do it! The second part of Karmi's character analysis per episode!

Despite all the flaws she has, I love how complex she is! She is bold, sarcastic and not made to sympathize at first, this with her not being automatically a villain! Showing to the target audience that people have nuances, that not always someone well acts in black and white, with some managing to overcome problems and not let interfere, but that others get quite marked with these experiences to the point of influencing how it handles some things and someone good can always improve, because not all their attitudes are the best. Which is not bad if you have a good character development, exactly what I'm going to analyze.

And then I want to score one thing: It's okay that you do not like Karmi. Since she needs more development to become a character and that's okay! But some people reduce it to imprecise definitions, deleting important traits of it, distorting it completely as the character is. So, I'm going to do my analysis with that in mind and try to talk about it too, okay?

Internabout

Ah yes! This is where we started the first season. A very cool episode with Trina, NBB, where Hiro arranges a stage and several hilarious and somewhat tense things happens. And of course, Karmi appears in a very interesting way.

Her first appearance was during the gang tour. She is in the lab when she is introduced and where she boasts of the internship, something she has earned because of her lifelong study. Even though she has said it presumptuously, no one can deny that it is a great achievement.

I know, I know, Liv is bad and all, but it does not obliterate the fact that Karmi had her attention because of the talent of prodigy that she has and knowing Amara, even wanting to use it, would not have something common to have in her plan, but, yes, something really impressive. At this point, it is Hiro who is rivaling Karmi, so much so that the gang itself asks why he is still jealous, and does what he can to have something to rub as a victory to Karmi. He arranges an internship with Krei and the episode unfolds.

Her next appearance is at lunch, where she is taking care of her own affairs.

 Hiro comes and tries to provoke her, which she does not leave cheap and refuses giving Hiro a little nervous attack. Both at the beginning and in this scene, it was proof that Hiro also plays this rivalry and that, once and for all, Karmi may be a jerk, but she is not a bully!

Does she have bad attitudes? Yes. Does she need to improve and apologize and change her behavior? For sure! Is she a bully? As someone who has suffered for years this, I can say, no.

According to the definition, bullying has as main pillar the misuse of power in the relationship, generally leading to a total isolation of the target. Karmi has no power imbalance with Hiro, except to be taller, she is practically equal to him. She is a student like him, what she talks about does not affect his reputation, at the most it irritates him, that when he does not rebut, and the stage that she gains in this episode does not harm him in anything but to hurt his ego, thing which already happens since "Big Problem". This stage was won honestly, without Karmi having sabotaged Hiro at all.

Since the beginning of the episode, she's been taking care of her own affairs and the only time she's talked to Hiro was on the Scoraxy tour. After that, she basically reacted to Hiro the whole episode. 

They are rivals and Hiro is not afraid of it, or Karmi. Both are provoked and Hiro has some of the blame on the disagreements, something very different from what constitutes bullying, mainly where the victim usually is afraid, at least, to react.

The next time she appears, her interaction with Hiro was not even required

since they met by accident. That's when Karmi discovers that what he said was "an important task" was just being Krei's servant. In contrast to what Karmi did in Smal Hiro One, Hiro did not tell the truth about what he was doing, trying to trick her when Karmi burst into laughter. (Let's be honest, it was funny and you would laugh too.) She then left and did not show up any more.

In that episode, it was shown how the rivalry comes from both sides and how Karmi simply reacted to Hiro's taunts as he did hers, which is totally different from bullying. It also showed that Hiro reacts well with the injured ego and has flaws, one of the points they have in common.

Pray Date

Ah yes! One of my favorite eps! Here we had many good scenes from around the world and a wonderful character development in general!

The first time Karmi appears is when Hiro and Fred go after them to try to get to Sycorax's lab to check Knox. Karmi at first does not want to get involved, but Hiro practically manipulates her, being honest here, but he had the best of intentions and they were desperate measures so it's forgivable.

Here she also warns about security, which was hilarious! And Fred ends up spoiling various cultures of microorganisms. As a scientist, I can say that this takes time and she was rightly angry. Despite everything above, she actually went to check what Hiro "asked" and eventually discovered that she did not have access to the file. Which led her to question Liv about this, with a very curious body language that I'll look into later.

He loved the dispensation and Karmi ends up meeting Fred, Hiro and Baymax. Hiro questions her about Knox, which leads him to hack into the company's computer and Karmi can identify that something is wrong with his genetic code.

She still does not want to go, understandably, but when Hiro states that someone has to help, she is convinced. They go up to sub-level 9 and fiddling with the files discovers a cure, however they end up being caught and after Liv takes Fred out, they start being chased by Knox, which leads them to a difficult situation.

Hiro wants to disable the security protocol, but Karmi says that would not be good, because it would put many people in danger and suggest waiting until she finds a cure. They argue and Karmi continues underground while Hiro and Baymax leave.

Her next appearance is questioned on Liv's decision, asking her to let him try to find a solution without killing him. However, no one buys the idea.

Then she appears already with a cure and watching worried about a Knox going to the lab, meeting with "Captain Cute" and stating that they would help. However, she questions about Hiro, asking about his status. Gogo claims that he is well and she appears for the last time, having a civilized conversation with Hiro, stating that the "Sycorax" had healed based on her research. This episode was incredible for Karmi's development and brought relevant information about her personality.

The first thing is that it breaks one of the main concepts that many had that Karmi would be a villain. However, it is shown that she has one of the best moral sense of the series.

She may have started helping Hiro because of the ego, but she ended up helping because, as seen in part one of this post, she is a good person. And the evidence of this ran through every episode. The first, and perhaps not so obvious, is when Fred comes in with a club in her lab. Karmi can be a bit harsh when she acts, but she did it to protect Fred.

As a virologist, her work is not only dangerous but extremely deadly, so much so that there are danger signs throughout the lab. One of the basic rules of a lab even is that you can not eat, and taking into account a biology laboratory, this gets even more severe. Fred could become infected with a serious and deadly disease, since Karmi works with extremely lethal pathogens. So it was not just anger, she was trying to protect him.

The second is after Hiro hacks the file. Karmi clearly did not want to break the rules, which could not only put her stage at risk as it was illegal because it was an invasion. However, when she heard that Knox needed help, she went without question, only worrying about how they would arrive at sub-level 9. 

Showing once again how much she wants to help people, as we have seen her speak since the first we saw her, it is not about breaking rules, but if helping someone demands it, so be it. Another situation is when they are fleeing from Knox. One thing very well punctuated by Ari @princess-kidatheart17​ is that she could have fled by herself, but she pushed Hiro to go along.

She worried about his safety and acted on that feeling.Not to mention she bothered to help Baymax as well.

Already the main act of altruism of every episode, at least in my view, was when they were considering what to do. By this time, Hiro had no hope of Knox's healing and was concentrating on leaving the scene, probably resorting to recapture. However, Karmi still had faith that Knox could be normal again which motivated her to take high risks, not only that, she was willing to put her own life on the check and stay longer with a monster that was hunting to kill if it meant not only that he would have a chance to turn human again as she was thinking of people who could get hurt if Hiro turned off security. This was said quite explicitly by her!

Karmi at no time here thought of itself, putting the life of the people of the city and the own Orso Knox above hers. In addition to that when Hiro left her leaving alone, she was faithful to what she believed and began working on a cure.

 When she’s back, she’s questioning Liv herself, stating that she could help.

But the conditions were against her and as Hiro had been captured, it would be too much to ask to entrust a life to her with such urgency. I think Karmi herself would not think that was a good idea, for all intents and purposes, she remained true to herself and continued her healing.

Speaking of Liv and Karmi, we have seen how Amara manipulates her in a way very similar to Gothel and Rapunzel. Karmi is treated like a child by the same one and it constantly has its opinions rejected and painted as inferior or infeasible, which is aggravated by the poor social aptitude that it has. When she goes to speak, Karmi is insecure and nervous, which leaves her vulnerable and Liv knows it. This is dangerous.

She does not want to disappoint her and Liv takes advantage of it. Already afraid and nervous when talking to Liv, the woman leaves her hands tied for being beyond her superior in the company, since she is the CEO, also takes advantage of the vision that our biotech has of her.

Now, the most moving situation of the episode is when she shows concern for Hiro. Something I found interesting is when she asks if he's hurt. Karmi could wait until the next day to see him at SFIT, but she was genuinely worried about asking Big Hero 6 himself. Not only that, when she'll ask if he was hurt she took a break.

The possibility of Hiro getting hurt makes her so distressed that it becomes bitter to think about it, showing that they do not hate each other. Karmi cares. Then the episode ends with her and Hiro talking where we see that a friendship is possible in the future. Honorable mention for the fact that Karmi has canonically Hiro's phone number.

Nega- Globby

Here she interacted more with Honey Lemon, which made me thrive both because she was someone different from Hiro, and because she showed that she could interact with other people after all. This episode showed what I said before about barriers and how Hiro and Karmi are to blame in the rivalry, showing how he talked about how Karmi could not be friends with anyone. Being someone who has social difficulties, this must have been such a blow to Karmi, who again only answered the height. It also showed the vision she has about Hiro and that she finds him very convinced of himself, as well as hinting that the animosity she feels has a much deeper motive.

Her past and what has gone by is still a complete mystery, but it must be big enough to keep it a secret for so long. In any case, here it shows that she has friction with Hiro, but still can be very helpful with others.

She went to find Honey at Grandville's request, however she continued to help on her own, and while having her personality conflicts with Honey, they worked well. Even not being much of a "person of hugs."

Many people may have been surprised that Hiro and Karmi have returned to normal fights, including myself in this. But after much thought, I came to the conclusion that Pray Date was not an episode for these two to finally understand, but rather an episode that pre-established information for this. That's why they're still arguing. In Pray Date important things have been stated, such as Karmi's moral standards, which are very high even, the fact that she cares for Hiro, the two do not hate each other and that if they want, they are capable of peaceful coexistence. So we just have to be patient.

Something Fluffy

This episode brings me a lot of information and theories, besides being the last appearance of Karmi until now. In addition to important statements.

Karmi suddenly appears the first time questioning Hiro about why he publicly accused Liv of creating the monsters. What she did was very unpleasant and unexpected, honestly. But, I assume she acted like this because it hits her on a personal level, not so much by Liv. If you watch this part, even questioning Amara, Karmi felt more offended because she makes "part" of Scoraxy and, as she believes they do good, accuse the company and how to accuse her of something absurd and she would never do , how to create monsters.

K: Why were you attacking Liv with your baseless accusations?

H: Baseless? Sycorax is super-secret genetic modification research!

K: We are the future.

H: No, you are a monster factory.

You may notice that Liv's name is only quoted at the beginning and then the discussion is more conflict-based than Hiro and Kami's views on the company and especially themselves in general. 

In the middle of the fight, Hiro uses the direct focus for Karmi and calls it "monster factory". Not Liv, not Sycorax, but Karmi personally, showing that rivalry also affects him, including how he talks to her. Karmi is part of Sycorax and she sees it as a good thing due to not being aware of Liv's actions, so it's understandable that she finds Hiro's personal accusations, because it's not just Liv or Sycorax, it also hits her.

After that, after all, she's a reasonable person. Hiro has had fits of jealousy before and could be the same occasion, so what does she do? You say Liv is innocent without stopping? 

No. She asks if he has any proof. In the face of so many accusations, it is natural that she expects something to support his theory. She was willing to listen, and I believe that if he had any, even against her likes, Karmi would have listened as she did on Pray Date. However, Hiro did not and this led to an abrupt end.

The next apparition is when Hiro is freaking out and they are gone again. The kid is not in the best shape, unfortunately, and Karmi does not believe her. I can, again, understand, since he is visibly paranoid and, honestly, I would not put faith in anyone in the state where Hiro was. Not to mention that the Mayois were not yet aggressive, but as cute creatures, which did not help much for Karmi's belief. Not to mention that it's not just Karmi, nobody believes in Hiro.

Well, the Mayois start to become a problem and that forces Hiro to get help from Karmi, which brings another interesting point. She does not believe him and does not seem to have any mistrust of Liv, yet she was willing to help search for some answers, even if it was for the boy who was accusing the company she was interning. 

With her help, we discovered that the creatures were made of fungi, and again, even if it was none of their concern or concern, Karmi is open to making a reversal serum to help.

It reveals other things about her personality. Karmi may have an admiration that she may become blinded by Liv, but she has no blind loyalty for Liv. We have to remember that Karmi is oblivious to the harmful actions of Amara and all the respect she feels is because of the good deeds that the CEO seems to have what makes her see it as inspiration, but Karmi is open to evidence and disobey Amara to do what's right, as seen in Pray Date. Not only that, Karmi has an altruistic soul and would not follow any of Liv's disastrous steps. As we have seen, the reason she disagrees with Hiro is not because she thinks Liv was unlikely to have done it, but rather because she has done so many good deeds and has shown it so often that it is ridiculous to accuse her. She has a basis for disagreeing with Hiro, even though she is wrong, it is not based on blind faith, but on tests that Amara cleverly left very convincing, deceiving not only Karmi but also every city.

Not only that, even though she does not believe in Hiro, she is willing to listen to him and help him, even if he does not get along very well. Karmi could have refused to help on all previous occasions, she had to lose including life at various points, but when she saw that she could help, she embarked on her head, she was never stingy at that point. Because, once again since some people do not realize it yet, she is a good person. But like anybody, she has flaws.

In the end, she boldly helps to fight the Mayois and does not appear anymore.

Overall, this season is proving to be a great season overall, increasing the stakes and giving development to the characters including Karmi. Now wait for the next few chapters. Anyway, I'm a sucker for analysis and thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, until the next

#big hero 6 #bh6 #big hero 6 the series #bh6 the series #big hero six #hiro hamada #baymax #karmi #bh6 karmi #Honey lemon #liv amara #analysis #disney