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ibijau · 3 years

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Futures Past pt15 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang returns to the Unclean Realm after his failed year in Gusu

The Unclean Realm, usually a noisy place, had fallen nearly entirely silent as most of the disciples and quite a few servants gathered around its gate. They were all careful to keep a respectable distance from the gate in question, in case things went wrong, but still did their best to be close enough to get a good view. Not that it was particularly necessary to be near enough to hear what was happening. Nie Mingjue had a voice that carried, and it only got worse when he was angry at his brother.

Which he currently was, of course, and for good reason everyone thought. After all, Nie Huaisang had just returned from his time studying in the Cloud Recesses, though he’d apparently done little learning there.

But it wasn’t his failure to pass his exams that had his brother so upset. It was more the fact that on the way back home, Nie Huaisang had decided to leave on his own and disappeared for well over three weeks. The other Nie disciples travelling with him had just found a note on his bed one morning announcing that he didn’t feel like going home yet. They had panicked and sent an urgent message to their sect leader, who had also panicked and launched a search for his brother, in vain.

“You could have been kidnapped!” Nie Mingjue shouted at his brother, who had arrived that morning, looking as careless as if he’d just been gone for a shichen on an errand. “You could have been attacked by bandits! Did you even have your sabre with you?”

“Of course I did!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, patting the weapon at his waist. “What was I going to do, walk around?”

“It would have been safer than flying in your case! What if you’d fallen?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. His cultivation had actually improved quite a bit while he was in the Cloud Recesses, if only because the Lans didn’t let him avoid training as much as his brother did. He was even quite close to forming a golden core, something he’d more or less given up on, and for which he hoped he’d get praised, whenever his brother calmed down enough to hear the news. So while he wasn’t the strongest of flyers, he was doing much better than he used to.

Not that Nie Mingjue was in any mood to hear that.

“I was careful, I swear,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “You’re always saying I should be more independent anyway!”

“Independent, not reckless! And who’s that?” Nie Mingjue roared, pointing at the person next to his brother.

That had been the question on everyone's mind since Nie Huaisang had arrived a little earlier, a boy much younger than himself walking at his side, but so far Nie Huaisang had avoided answering.

“Oh, that’s Xue Yang,” Nie Huaisang cheerfully announced, patting the young boy’s shoulder. “I picked him up along the way. You should test him, I really think he’s going to be a great cultivator someday! Xue Yang, that’s my brother, say hi to him?”

Xue Yang threw Nie Mingjue a very unimpressed look, and gave a half-hearted bow.

“It's an honour to meet Nie zongzhu,” he said with some uncertainty, probably wishing he hadn't been so close while Nie Mingjue shouted at his brother like that.

“Huaisang, where did you find that child?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“It’s a long story,” his brother said.

Nie Mingjue nodded, and waited for the story in question to be told. Nie Huaisang just smiled at him.

“Are you going to tell me how you found him?” Nie Mingjue insisted when nothing more came.

“No. It’s a long story, but it’s not very interesting. He’s here now, though, so that can’t be helped.”

Hearing this, Nie Mingjue turned his attention to Xue Yang, as if hoping he might get an explanation there. The young boy just gave him a wicked smile.

“He said I’d get candies if I came,” Xue Yang said. “Am I gonna get them now or what?”

Nie Mingju’s eyes snapped back to his brother.

“Huaisang, did you steal a child by offering him treats? You realise how bad that looks?”

“It’s not stealing when it’s a person,” Nie Huaisang protested, nervously twisting his fingers for a moment before hiding his hands behind his back. “And I think children count as people, not things. Right?”

“Fine. Did you kidnap a child?”

A little embarrassed, Nie Huaisang hunched his shoulder and looked down at his feet without answering. A mistake, it turned out, because Xue Yang took that as his cue to explain things.

“It’s okay, I don’t have a family anyway,” Xue Yang announced. “He asked before taking me with him, to make sure I’m an orphan. And your brother’s nice. He took me to all those nice inns along the way, and every time he made sure I had food and a bath. He said the baths were very important.”

Nie Mingjue glared at his brother who winced because that could indeed be misunderstood. Which was exactly why Xue Yang had said it like that, he suspected. But really, Xue Yang had been in a pretty bad state when Nie Huaisang had picked him up. His hair was nearly stiff with dirty, he’d recently bled all over his clothes, and he had lice, and...

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to tell the story,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. He had already come up with a sanitised version of events that he could actually share with his brother, but it still annoyed him to not be trusted more. “So, I wanted to visit Kuizhou, you see? Everyone says the landscapes around it are so gorgeous, and so melancholic, and they are by the way. I want to go back to paint and write and…”

“Focus, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, right. So, I went there,” Nie Huaisang said, playing with the hem of his sleeve. “And I was visiting and stuff, and then I see a grown man punching and kicking a kid! Just because the kid had grabbed a few things from him!”

“Yeah, it was just his purse, and there wasn’t even that much money in it,” Xue Yang helpfully provided. “Well, and a few buns from his stall, and those apples from the stall next to his, and…”

“Shut it,” Nie Huaisang hissed, before returning his attention to his brother, a bright smile on his face. “So, you always say we have to defend the weak, and nobody’s weaker than a kid, so I went to check what was going on, right? And the man told me that kid is a terrible thief that’s plaguing their town, and he’s going to beat him up until all his bones are broken and he can never bother anyone else. But it’s just a kid!”

“Yeah, I’m just a kid!”

“Shut it! Anyway, I rescued the kid, because he really was in a bad state. And then I figured, well, how can someone that’s just a kid be such a good thief, right? So I checked and he’s got good dispositions for cultivation!”

It had been a lucky realisation, because he hadn’t known for sure that Xue Yang even was meant to become a cultivator, nor a talented one for that matter. In fact, the whole thing had been unbelievably lucky. Sure Nie Huaisang had spent three whole days searching everywhere for Xue Yang, but he’d been about ready to give up when he’d finally found him in roughly the exact way he'd described.

“The local sect are a bunch of pricks who didn’t want to take him in when I asked,” Nie Huaisang explained, as if he could ever have left Xue Yang into the care of strangers who might have failed to stop him from becoming evil. “So I brought him home. He’s going to be a great disciple!”

Having listened to that story with mounting annoyance, Nie Mingjue glared at his brother.

“Huaisang, that’s…”

“You always say people deserve a chance no matter their background!”

“Oh so you do listen when I talk sometimes?”

“He’s an orphan, and he’s talented, and someone has to do something, and we can’t send him back or else he might continue stealing maybe!”

“I’ll definitely continue stealing if you send me back,” Xue Yang promised with a smirk.

Nie Huaisang glared at him. Evil or not, Xue Yang knew how to be annoying.

He also knew how to be charming, though. He’d been absolutely delightful with a bunch of people they’d met on the way to Qinghe whenever he’d thought he could get something out of it. And it had worked, too. Xue Yang had obtained a lot of sweets from a lot of people, as well as some money here and there. And that was without mentioning the stuff he’d just outright stolen, sometimes from the very people generously sharing something with him. He was a little pest, all right.

But he was smart too, smart enough to understand what an incredible opportunity he’d been given. It would have been easy for Xue Yang to run away into the night, taking with him all of Nie Huaisang’s money. He was a skilled enough thief to manage it, especially once he’d realised that Nie Huaisang wasn’t a skilled enough cultivator to pursue him. But he hadn’t, because he’d been promised a chance of becoming a cultivator if Nie Huaisang could just convince his brother.

Of course, that was a pretty big 'if'.

A year earlier, Nie Huaisang would have been certain that he could convince his brother of anything. He’d never had any reason to doubt that, not until his future self had come into his life uninvited and whispered poison to him about Nie Mingjue having a bad opinion of him. And maybe he was right, that old prick. Nie Huaisang had messed up so badly in the Cloud Recesses, failing his classes in a way most people never did. He’d shamed his sect, his clan, his brother, and now he had the galls of asking for a huge favour, as if he had any right to…

“How old are you?” Nie Mingjue asked Xue Yang, who shrugged.

“Dunno. I think I’m older than nine, maybe, ‘cause I remember that bad drought we had one year. But old Cheng says I’m probably less than twelve, ‘cause I don’t have all my teeth yet.”

To prove his point, Xue Yang clenched his jaw and bared his teeth. He was indeed missing one canine on the left, while the right one was just starting to regrow. It made for a very odd smile, and yet Xue Yang knew how to use that to look cute sometimes.

Cuteness wouldn’t work on Nie Mingjue though. Years of dealing with Nie Huaisang had made him nearly immune to it.

"What did my idiot brother tell you to convince you to come all the way here from Kuizhou?"

"He said I'd learn to be a cultivator, and people wouldn't beat me up ever again for stealing," Xue Yang recited. "And he said I'd have to learn to be good and stuff, because it's a second chance for an honest life, and I figured, well, it's better than the streets."

Nie Mingjue nodded, though he still looked severe enough that Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure yet of his victory.

"We have a certain way of doing things in my sect, and dishonesty isn't allowed. And I'll need to check if you can be taught at all. Come closer and give me your hand."

Xue Yang, impossibly cocky a moment before, suddenly hesitated and glanced at both Nie brothers before hiding his hands behind his back.

"Which hand ?"

"Either one, it makes no difference."

"It might a bit," Xue Yang grumbled before reluctantly raising both hands.

Nie Mingjue frowned when he noticed that one finger was missing, but Nie Huaisang took it to be an encouraging frown and finally relaxed. It expressed concern rather than anger, and that had to be a step in the right direction.

"That looks old," Nie Mingjue noted, grabbing Xue Yang's left hand to inspect it. "Hm. That's not neat enough to have been cut off. What happened to you?"

"Someone's cart ran over my hand on purpose," Xue Yang muttered, trying in vain to pull his hand free. "I was little. It's fine now, I swear!"

It was far from fine, actually. Xue Yang himself might not have realised it since he was used to it, but Nie Huaisang had noticed that the young boy favoured his right hand a lot more than was normal, even for a right-handed person. In another sect, that might have been a problem. But Qinghe Nie was more martial than most others, a little more reckless too, and they had their share of cultivators who'd had nasty accidents.

A missing finger in a stiff hand wasn't so bad compared to some people.

"We'll have to get you a light sabre," Nie Mingjue said, mostly to himself after a quick check of the boy’s meridians. "Something you can use one-handed, like Huaisang. And I'll ask our doctor to have a look at it. It looks painful."

"No, it's fine, I don't feel pain anymore," Xue Yang proudly announced as he pulled his hand free. "Trained myself out of it, mostly."

"You are definitely going to see Zhilan," Nie Mingjue replied, frowning harder. "Huaisang’s right, you do have potential, so we'll train you.” He turned toward their audience of disciples, and gestured for one man to walk closer. “Zonghui! Come and give that kid a tour, and a meal. When he's eaten, take him to see Zhilan, and have a bed prepared for him."

“I’m in?” Xue Yang asked, so startled that for once, he really did look his age.

He glanced at Nie Huaisang who grinned at him and nodded, then turned his eyes back to Nie Mingjue who nodded as well.

“You’re in. Go with Nie Zonghui, he’ll explain everything you need to know about being part of this sect.”

With surprising obedience that had to be a side effect of surprise, Xue Yang trotted away with Nie Mingjue’s first disciple. Nie Huaisang tried to follow, equal parts curious and worried about what might happen next if he lost sight of Xue Yang. He hadn’t taken two steps before Nie Mingjue grabbed him by the collar to stop him.

“And where are you going?”

Nie Huaisang pointed toward Xue Yang. His brother gave him a pointed look, and started dragging him in another direction, leaving him no choice but to follow or be strangled.

“I’m tired,” Nie Huaisang complained. Then, noticing that they appeared to be going toward the training grounds, he struggled against his brother’s grasp. “Wait, da-ge, I’m really tired, I mean it! We’ve had to walk so long, you know! We’ve only been able to hitch a ride on carts for some of the way, so I can’t feel my legs anymore for how much walking I’ve done lately.”

“If you’d come home directly from the Cloud Recesses, you’d have ridden in a carriage,” Nie Mingjue retorted without an ounce of pity. “Now let’s see if you’ve made any progress with your sabre, aside from using it to run away. We’re going to spar together.”

“I can’t, I’m so tired!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I’m going to die if I have to move! And you’re so much stronger than me, there’s no point in training together, the difference is too great! Da-ge, have some mercy, let me eat something first! Let me rest! And I need to change clothes too, and I really should check how my birds are, and…”

“Shut up you brat! This is your punishment for getting me so worried!” Nie Mingjue snapped, pushing his brother onto the softer soil of the training ground. “Do your warm-ups!”

“But I’m starving, da-ge!”

“That’s your own fault for running away!” Nie Mingjue replied, showing yet again he was the most cruel person in the entire world.

And yet as soon as Nie Huaisang started stretching in preparation for a friendly fight, Nie Mingjue asked a disciple to go ask the kitchens if they might send some fresh buns and a little tea that way. Aggravated as he was that his brother only cared about checking his cultivation and martial art progress, Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but smile.

After everything his older self had said about Nie Mingjue really despising him, he’d been worried that his brother would indeed be furious at him for everything he’d done, from failing his classes to forcing him to take in a miscreant. But no matter how shouty and frowny he currently was, it was clear to anyone who knew him, as his brother did, that Nie Mingjue was worried-angry rather than angry-angry.

Nie Huaisang had gambled and won, thus proving to himself that he definitely knew his brother better than his older self did.

#xisang #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #xue yang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #this was almost a much longer chapter but I figured the next visit of future nhs could be posted on its own next week

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josefavomjaaga · 3 years

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Sometime in the first days of January 1806, Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria received a letter from his future brother-in-law Eugène de Beauharnais. We only know this because Eugène mentioned it in his reply to Napoleon, while thanking his stepfather nicely for his coffee mug and for having been betrothed to the young lady depicted on it. Eugène considered the portrait charming and declared that he would do his best to make the original happy. With this in mind, he had also contacted Crown Prince "Louis", the only family member he had ever met.

Unfortunately, this letter has not survived. Given his dislike of both the alliance with France and his sister's marriage to the unworthy Beauharnais, “Louis” (he also hated to be called that) probably set fire to it in a rage. What he kept were a sabre that Napoleon had carried at Ulm and that he gave to Ludwig as a gift, and a sketch of the Battle of Austerlitz made by Napoleon himself.

Meanwhile, Ludwig also had a great deal to do, for the French guest who had settled in at the Residenz could not seem to sit still. On the first day of the new year, celebrations were held to mark the proclamation of the new Kingdom of Bavaria. Max Joseph, now King Maximilian I, however, was not very keen on this. He received the first homage in his wife's living room - unlike his own, her rooms had only recently been renovated. And as soon as he had declared that he had adopted the title of king, he added: "But otherwise we'll stay the same." Since there was no crown or other coronation insignia, there also was no question of any coronation ceremony. (There would never be a formal coronation in the Kingdom of Bavaria).

It has to be said, Max Joseph and Napoleon really didn't have much in common.

As soon as the proclamation of the kingdom, for which the French guests kept a low profile, was over, the French emperor again became enterprising. Ludwig had to accompany him on horseback when he rode through the city, surrounded by an escort. As Ludwig recorded in his notes, he actually seemed pleased that the Bavarians greeted him with honest, spontaneous cheers and regarded him as their liberator. (This did not happen often to the French. Usually the cheering had to be ordered). Napoleon talked to people about everything, took an interest in everything, and Grand Stable Master Caulaincourt had to translate. Unfortunately, most of the people in Munich didn't understand his German, so Ludwig translated again into Bavarian dialect. Ludwig even knew that Caulaincourt had been in Munich a few years ago during the war, as a "beau chevalier" whom the ladies of the city apparently still remembered.

When he had seen the town, Napoleon wished to go hunting. After all, this was the sport of kings, wasn't it? Well, most kings, perhaps. Max Joseph much preferred animals alive. And the weather was awful to boot! But hey, an emperor is an emperor, and one might even become related to him, so better do what the man said. But when during the first hunt Napoleon shot ruthlessly at everything that moved, including beaters and hounds, Max Joseph gave orders to load the imperial shotguns only with powder and no bullets, Ludwig noted. Apparently Napoleon didn't notice. All that mattered was that the thing went bang. Napoleon was in high spirits.

That changed when three days later (3 January 1806) a marriage treaty still hadn't been concluded. What were Otto, Talleyrand and Montgelas doing all this time? It couldn't be that difficult to draw up such a document!

Unfortunately, it was. The Bavarians were desperate to get a crown for their king's daughter, and in order to do that, the sorry groom needed to become king. Or at least receive something. Until now, he was nothing but the administrator of Napoleon's Italian kingdom; Eugène himself had literally nothing, not even the vague prospect that he might one day inherit something. He wasn't actually related to Napoleon, after all. So there you go: first the bridegroom should become king, then they could get married.

Napoleon was not willing to go that far. After all, he had already made Max Joseph king. Two crowns for just one wedding, that would be a bad deal. One might consider providing for the princess through the principalities of Piacenza and Parma (which were then entered into the contract as Eugène's share of the inheritance). And yes, he could probably also adopt the boy, he hinted.

As Eugène's biographer Adalbert von Bayern notes, whether Eugène would be adopted by Napoleon seems to have remained an open question for a long time. Apparently, a gap was left in the original marriage contract; the groom's name and title were only entered later.

In any case, Napoleon did not feel like wasting any more time with discussions. Duroc received written instructions (written at three o'clock in the morning of the third of January, to be precise) to go to Otto and, if necessary, to Montgelas as well, and to inform these gentlemen that Emperor Napoleon

- was highly dissatisfied with the state of affairs

- wished the treaty to be concluded without further delay and

- had fixed the date of the wedding for the 15th of January.

And that was that!

An hour earlier, at two o’clock in the morning, Napoleon had already, in his usual affectionate style, sent a second letter to his stepson in Italy.

My Cousin, twelve hours at the latest after receiving this letter, you will depart with all speed for Munich. Try to arrive as soon as possible, in order to be certain to find me here. You will leave your command in the hands of the division general whom you believe to be the most capable and reliable. It is useless for you to bring many people. Leave promptly and incognito, both to run less danger and to experience less delay.

Send me a courier who will announce your arrival twenty-four hours beforehand.

P.S.: One hour after receiving this letter, send me a letter to tell me the day you think you will arrive.

Be here! Yesterday!

So, this was Eugène’s invitation to his own wedding. Considering that the marriage is not even mentioned in the letter, he might as well have been summoned in order to be trialed and shot. I guess we can deduct that Napoleon’s mood was not the best when he wrote this. But then again, my mood at two o’clock in the morning tends to not be that good either.

#napoleon #eugene de beauharnais #ludwig i #munich 1806 #munich1806 #max joseph #montgelas #caulaincourt #eugene's marriage

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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TLTNL- Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump

"Oh, I want this one!" Sirius said at once.

Lily couldn't help cracking up laughing, she never would have believed Sirius would get so enthusiastic about reading a children's story, but no one protested as he began.

Of all the strange things he'd heard while here, Harry decided this one had to hit his top ten. What about a crazy rabbit now? Cackling Stump? Professor Sprout had sure never mentioned that.

Sirius began, much to no one's surprise but everyone's amusement, in a highly respectable tone as if reading a letter from the Queen of England herself. Shoulders held strait and mock pushing glasses steadily into place, he had the others shoulders shaking even as he carried on like this.

A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish king who decided that he alone should have the power of magic.

"Right, I'm sure that worked out for him," James rolled his eyes at once.

He therefore commanded the head of his army to form a Brigade of Witch-Hunters, and issued them with a pack of ferocious black hounds.

Sirius said that with a little too much pride, and Harry honestly couldn't help but smile at the display.

At the same time, the King caused proclamations to be read in every village and town across the land:

"Wanted by the King, an Instructor in Magic."

No true witch or wizard dared volunteer for the post, for they were all in hiding from the Brigade of Witch-Hunters.

"Well that plan rather backfired on him right away," Lily chuckled.

However, a cunning charlatan with no magical power saw a chance of enriching himself, and arrived at the palace, claiming to be a wizard of enormous skill. The charlatan performed a few simple tricks, which convinced the foolish King of his magical powers, and was immediately appointed Grand Sorcerer in Chief, the King's Private Magic Master.

"That's quite a title," Remus yawned. "I feel bad for the person who had to announce his entering a room."

The charlatan bade the King give him a large sack of gold, so that he might purchase wands and other magical necessities. He also requested several large rubies, to be used in the casting of curative charms, and a silver chalice or two, for the storing and maturing of potions. All these things the foolish King supplied.

James scratched at the back of his neck as he thought about it, wondering why the Muggle thought they'd use any of that, and clearly missing the snickering line about the foolish King.

"My question is, wouldn't he already have those things, being such a skilled sorcerer and all," Remus couldn't help but mock before Sirius shushed him.

The charlatan stowed the treasure safely in his own house and returned to the palace grounds. He did not know that he was being watched by an old woman who lived in a hovel on the edge of the grounds. Her name was Babbitty, and she was the washerwoman who kept the palace linens soft, fragrant and white. Peeping from behind her drying sheets, Babbitty saw the charlatan snap two twigs from one of the King's trees and disappear into the palace.

The charlatan gave one of the twigs to the King and assured him that it was a wand of tremendous power.

Here next he actually switched, to a poorly accent of a Cockney man, reminding Harry a bit of Stan now in this roll, which Harry was sure Sirius had done on purpose.

"It will only work, however," said the charlatan, "when you are worthy of it."

Every morning the charlatan and the foolish King walked out into the palace grounds, where they waved their wands and shouted nonsense at the sky. The charlatan was careful to perform more tricks, so that the King remained convinced of his Grand Sorcerer's skill, and of the power of the wands that had cost so much gold.

One morning, as the charlatan and the foolish King were twirling their twigs, and hopping in circles, and chanting meaningless rhymes, a loud cackling reached the King's ears. Babbitty the washerwoman was watching the King and the charlatan from the window of her tiny cottage, and was laughing so hard she soon sank out of sight, too weak to stand.

"I love that feeling," James's smile grew back at once, Sirius just read this with such unrestrained enjoyment, his tone promised they should all be feeling the exact same way now.

"I must look most undignified, to make the old washerwoman laugh so!" said the King.

For this he'd actually used his own voice, still in a bit more dignified tone, causing James to snort harder than ever and Remus to mutter a few big headed comments that Sirius took no notice of.

He ceased his hopping and twig twirling, and frowned.

"I really wonder how it took him so long to realize that," Lily couldn't help but agree.

"I grow weary of practice! When shall I be ready to perform real spells in front of my subjects, Sorcerer?"

The charlatan tried to soothe his pupil, assuring him that he would soon be capable of astonishing feats of magic, but Babbitty's cackling had stung the foolish King more than the charlatan knew.

"Tomorrow," said the King, "we shall invite our court to watch their King perform magic!"

The charlatan saw that the time had come to take his treasure and flee.

"Alas, Your Majesty, it is impossible! I had forgotten to tell Your Majesty that I must set out on a long journey tomorrow."

"Oh yes, slipped the mind till this very moment and all-" Remus stated in a posh voice, clearly trying to mimic Sirius who elbowed him amid more snickering.

"If you leave this palace without my permission, Sorcerer, my Brigade of Witch-Hunters will hunt you down with their hounds! Tomorrow morning you will assist me to perform magic for the benefit of my lords and ladies, and if anybody laughs at me, I shall have you beheaded!"

The King stormed back to the palace, leaving the charlatan alone and afraid. Not all his cunning could save him now, for he could not run away, nor could he help the King with magic that neither of them knew.

Seeking a vent for his fear and his anger, the charlatan approached the window of Babbitty the washerwoman. Peering inside, he saw the little old lady sitting at her table, polishing a wand. In a corner behind her, the King's sheets were washing themselves in a wooden tub.

"How reckless," Lily raised a brow. "The King's on a manhunt and she's doing that in broad daylight, after drawing attention from laughing at them."

"Lily, you're getting as bad as Remus. Enjoy the stupid story," Sirius huffed without breaking character, and Lily had to bite her lip harder than ever to stop from falling off the couch laughing.

The charlatan understood at once that Babbitty was a true witch, and that she who had given him his awful problem could also solve it.

"Crone!" roared the charlatan. "Your cackling has cost me dear! If you fail to help me, I shall denounce you as a witch, and it will be you who is torn apart by the King's hounds!"

"I'm sure if that was actually a bother to her she wouldn't be in this situation to begin with," James took his turn poking a flaw in this, but Sirius blatantly ignored him as well.

Old Babbitty smiled at the charlatan and assured him that she would do everything in her power to help.

The charlatan instructed her to conceal herself inside a bush while the King gave his magical display, and to perform the King's spells for him, without his knowledge. Babbitty agreed to the plan but asked one question.

"What, sir, if the King attempts a spell Babbitty cannot perform?"

For this, he tried to imitate Lily, which she cottoned onto at once. "You little toerag, I am not your wash woman."

"Whatever do you mean Lily?" He batted his eyes and refused to acknowledge he was doing any such thing, or change as he continued.

Lily fingered her wand and considered, but the others were just laughing too hard, and finally she gave in to take the joke.

The charlatan scoffed.

"Your magic is more than equal to that fool's imagination," he assured her, and he retired to the castle, well pleased with his own cleverness.

"Most idiots are," she still couldn't help but mutter.

The following morning all the lords and ladies of the kingdom assembled in the palace grounds.

The King climbed on to a stage in front of them, with the charlatan by his side.

"I shall firstly make this lady's hat disappear!" cried the King, pointing his twig at a noblewoman.

From inside a bush nearby, Babbitty pointed her wand at the hat and caused it to vanish.

Great was the astonishment and admiration of the crowd, and loud their applause for the jubilant King.

"Next, I shall make that horse fly!" cried the King,

"Now that's a complicated little spell, putting wings on a horse," James grinned, "or does he mean turning it into an actual fly?"

"I'm guessing your mum used different spells this King was performing," Lily asked curiously, but Sirius cut them off by pouting, "would you lot quit interrupting! I'm giving you a show over here and you lot have no appreciation."

Remus arched a curious brow at him when he told, "Sirius, I was under the impression you've been doing that over ten years now. I'm still waiting for my first intermission to take a piss."

Sirius huffed and muttered some more about ingrates before continuing louder.

pointing his twig at his own steed.

From inside the bush, Babbitty pointed her wand at the horse and it rose high into the air.

The crowd was still more thrilled and amazed,

Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump and they roared their appreciation of their magical King.

"And now," said the King, looking all around for an idea; and the Captain of his Brigade of Witch-Hunters ran forwards.

"Your Majesty," said the Captain, "this very morning, Sabre died of eating a poisonous toadstool! Bring him back to life, Your Majesty, with your wand!"

"This one was the same though," James whispered quietly to Lily, his parents first time ever telling him everything had a limit, even magic.

And the Captain heaved on to the stage the lifeless body of the largest of the witch-hunting hounds.

The foolish King brandished his twig and pointed it at the dead dog. But inside the bush, Babbitty smiled, and did not trouble to lift her wand, for no magic can raise the dead.

When the dog did not stir, the crowd began first to whisper, and then to laugh.

"This King is of poor showman ship," Sirius couldn't help but interrupt himself this time at no lack of recovery for this. "He could have made up anything, these people have no more clue than him. He hasn't gotten that far along with his magic training yet, or the truth even."

"No one can be like you Sirius," Remus happily reminded, who preened at the snide comment and kept going.

They suspected that the King's first two feats had been mere tricks after all.

"How do you make lifting a horse a trick?" James rolled his eyes, honestly, Muggles really would believe anything.

"Why doesn't it work?" the King screamed at the charlatan, who bethought himself of the only ruse left to him.

"There, Your Majesty, there!" he shouted, pointing at the bush where Babbitty sat concealed. "I see her plain, a wicked witch who is blocking your magic with her own evil spells! Seize her, somebody, seize her!"

Babbitty fled from the bush, and the Brigade of Witch-Hunters set off in pursuit, unleashing their hounds, who bayed for Babbitty's blood.

But as she reached a low hedge, the little witch vanished from sight, and when the King, the charlatan and all the courtiers gained the other side, they found the pack of witch-hunting hounds barking and scrabbling around a bent and aged tree.

"She has turned herself into a tree!" screamed the charlatan and, dreading lest Babbitty turn back into a woman and denounce him, he added, "Cut her down, Your Majesty, that is the way to treat evil witches!"

Harry couldn't help but shake his head sadly. Though he was confident that hadn't been Babbity's actions, it still saddened him this man really went through with killing some innocent person just to save himself. Making him question more every day what exactly blurred the line between those Wizards who thought themselves better when there were Muggles who would do the same.

An axe was brought at once, and the old tree was felled to loud cheers from the courtiers and the charlatan.

However, as they were making ready to return to the palace, the sound of loud cackling stopped them in their tracks.

"Fools!" cried Babbitty's voice from the stump they had left behind. "No witch or wizard can be killed by being cut in half! Take the axe, if you do not believe me, and cut the Grand Sorcerer in two!"

The Captain of the Brigade of Witch-Hunters was eager to make the experiment, but as he raised the axe the charlatan fell to his knees, screaming for mercy and confessing all his wickedness.

"At least someone got their dues," Lily chuckled for this woman's quick thinking, not nearly as sour at Sirius anymore trying to feign her voice into the story.

As he was dragged away to the dungeons, the tree stump cackled more loudly than ever.

"By cutting a witch in half, you have unleashed a dreadful curse upon your kingdom!" It told the petrified King. "Henceforth, every stroke of harm that you inflict upon my fellow witches and wizards will feel like an axe stroke in your own side, until you will wish you could die of it!"

"I always did like this story, Babbity's a great role model," James happily agreed. She was taking this opportunity to do right by everything, instead of say, just asking for those riches again like some would have.

"What about Babbity then?" Lilly couldn't help but challenge. "If we were to have a little girl."

James hummed thoughtfully but gave nothing away.

At that, the King fell to his knees too, and told the stump that he would issue a proclamation at once, protecting all the witches and wizards of the kingdom, and allowing them to practise their magic in peace.

"Very good," said the stump, "but you have not yet made amends to Babbitty!"

"Anything, anything at all!" cried the foolish King, wringing his hands before the stump.

"You will erect a statue of Babbitty upon me, in memory of your poor washerwoman, and to remind you for ever of your own foolishness!" said the stump.

"Ah, guess I don't blame her having one thing for herself though," Harry couldn't help but keep snickering away at this comeuppance.

The King agreed to it at once, and promised to engage the foremost sculptor in the land, and have the statue made of pure gold.

"Can't do anything halfway though," Remus chuckled.

Then the shamed King and all the noblemen and women returned to the palace, leaving the tree stump cackling behind them.

When the grounds were deserted once more, there wriggled from a hole between the roots of the tree stump a stout and whiskery old rabbit with a wand clamped between her teeth.

"She's an Animgaus," Lily said in surprise.

"Yep," the other three said at once, little smiles still in place.

"Such a silly little tail, but McGonagall actually referenced it in her lecture about Animagus', so we just had to look it up," James chuckled.

"Apparently it was one of the first and only times used in a children's tale, but then from there we really started digging into the subject, and," Sirius trailed off suggestively with an unneeded wave at himself.

Lily just kept smiling in surprise that such a thing would mean so much to one person, and Remus shaking his head affectionately at his friends all these years later still proved as much.

Babbitty hopped out of the grounds and far away, and ever after a golden statue of the washerwoman stood upon the tree stump, and no witch or wizard was ever persecuted in the kingdom again.

Albus Dumbledore on "Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump"

Sirius couldn't stop now, and instead adopted the phony voice of Dumbledore, honestly managing quite a good impression.

The story of "Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump" is, in many ways, the most "real" of Beedle's tales, in that the magic described in the story conforms, almost entirely, to known magical laws.

It was through this story that many of us first discovered that magic could not bring back the dead "and a great disappointment and shock it was, convinced as we had been, as young children, that our parents would be able to awaken our dead rats and cats with one wave of their wands.

Though some six centuries have elapsed since Beedle wrote this tale, and while we have devised innumerable ways of maintaining the illusion of our loved ones' continuing presence, wizards still have not found a way of reuniting body and soul once death has occurred.

Harry watched Sirius read that with a heavy burn in his throat that he'd felt every time he looked to his parents as well. He looked quickly away and adjusted his glasses, determined not to let his mind linger and dredge that up again so soon, he was going to enjoy these moments!

As the eminent wizarding philosopher Bertrand de Penses-Profondes writes in his celebrated work A Study into the Possibility of Reversing the Actual and Metaphysical Effects of Natural Death, with Particular Regard to the Reintegration of Essence and Matter:

Sirius had to stop and actually take a breath after such an exquisite title, honestly going cross eyed at the idea of that being on the spine of a book, before finishing.

"Give it up. It's never going to happen."1

Then promptly started laughing like a madman, the others not resisting joining in.

The tale of Babbitty Rabbitty does, however, give us one of the earliest literary mentions of an Animagus, for Babbitty the washerwoman is possessed of the rare magical ability to transform into an animal at will.

Animagi make up a small fraction of the wizarding population. Achieving perfect, spontaneous human to animal transformation requires much study and practice, and many witches and wizards consider that their time might be better employed in other ways. Certainly, the application of such a talent is limited unless one has a great need of disguise or concealment.

"Honestly I don't think about that part too much," James shrugged. "It's not like it comes in handy when running to spontaneously burst into a deer and keep running, then you can't shoot spells back."

"I can see the convenience for smaller animals though," Sirius corrected with a curious look. "I could fit into smaller spaces as Padfoot, duck out of the way and honestly run faster."

"I still can't believe you fools convinced the whole Order of your stupid nicknames anymore than the school, it's not like you're subtle," Lily told them affectionately.

"They'll get the joke when we tell them in a few years," James waved off.

It is for this reason that the Ministry of Magic has insisted upon a register of Animagi, for there can be no doubt that this kind of magic is of greatest use to those engaged in surreptitious, covert or even criminal activity.2

James and Sirius looked highly offended their one and only way to help their friend was deemed like this, but Remus just looked sad. His friends foolish attempt to help him turned out to be the first time in his life he'd ever felt like he wasn't bearing a curse. It's not as if he'd ever ask another wizard to try the same, to help more werewolves in this way, but was it so unreasonable to realize help was out there?

Whether there was ever a washerwoman who was able to transform into a rabbit is open to doubt; however, some magical historians have suggested that Beedle modelled Babbitty on the famous French sorceress Lisette de Lapin, who was convicted of witchcraft in Paris in 1422. To the astonishment of her Muggle guards, who were later tried for helping the witch to escape, Lisette vanished from her prison cell the night before she was due to be executed. Although it has never been proven that Lisette was an Animagus who managed to squeeze through the bars of her cell window, a large white rabbit was subsequently seen crossing the English Channel in a cauldron with a sail fitted to it, and a similar rabbit later became a trusted advisor at the court of King Henry VI.

"Oh, well that's not suspicious at all," Sirius cackled, while Lily twirled a bit of hair around and wondered why that sounded vaguely familiar. Probably something she'd blocked out from a History of Magic Essay.

The King in Beedle's story is a foolish Muggle who both covets and fears magic. He believes that he can become a wizard simply by learning incantations and waving a wand. This may have contributed to that Muggle King's reputation for mental instability.

He is completely ignorant of the true nature of magic and wizards, and therefore swallows the preposterous suggestions of both the charlatan and Babbitty. This is certainly typical of a particular type of Muggle thinking: in their ignorance, they are prepared to accept all sorts of impossibilities about magic, including the proposition that Babbitty has turned herself into a tree that can still think and talk.

"Honestly, that was the most ridiculous part," Lily agreed.

(It is worth noting at this point, however, that while Beedle uses the talking-tree device to show us how ignorant the Muggle King is, he also asks us to believe that Babbitty can talk while she is a rabbit.)

"I thought she was just curled up under the stump and changed afterwards," James said in surprise.

"Details," Sirius waved off.

This might be poetic licence, but I think it more likely that Beedle had only heard about Animagi, and never met one, for this is the only liberty that he takes with magical laws in the story. Animagi do not retain the power of human speech while in their animal form, although they keep all their human thinking and reasoning powers.

"Tragically, Sirius never did recover from his first transformation though and now retains the idiocy of a puppy," Remus sighed deeply while mock wiping a tear away.

"Don't be ridiculous Moony," James said pleasantly that did nothing to make Sirius believe defense was coming. "He's always had the attention span of a pup, now he just has a better excuse."

"I hate you all," Sirius huffed.

This, as every schoolchild knows, is the fundamental difference between being an Animagus, and Transfiguring oneself into an animal. In the case of the latter, one would become the animal entirely, with the consequence that one would know no magic, be unaware that one had ever been a wizard, and would need somebody else to Transfigure one back to one's original form.

"Why did McGonagall have to change Malfoy back from a ferret again?" Harry muttered of no one.

I think it possible that in choosing to make his heroine pretend to turn into a tree, and threaten the King with pain like an axe stroke in his own side, Beedle was inspired by real magical traditions and practices. Trees with wand-quality wood have always been fiercely protected by the wandmakers who tend them, and cutting down such trees to steal them risks incurring not only the malice of the Bowtruckles3 usually nesting there, but also the ill effect of any protective curses placed around them by their owners. In Beedle's time, the Cruciatus Curse4 had not yet been made illegal by the Ministry of Magic, and could have produced precisely the sensation with which Babbitty threatens the King.

1Wizarding photographs and portraits move and (in the case of the latter) talk just like their subjects. Other rare objects, such as the Mirror of Erised, may also reveal more than a static image of a lost loved one. Ghosts are transparent, moving, talking and thinking versions of wizards and witches who wished, for whatever reason, to remain on earth.

2Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, has asked me to make clear that she became an Animagus merely as a result of her extensive researches into all fields of Transfiguration, and that she has never used the ability to turn into a tabby cat for any surreptitious purpose, setting aside legitimate business on behalf of the Order of the Phoenix where secrecy and concealment were imperative.

Sirius couldn't help but burst out laughing again, and honestly the others couldn't blame him.

"Was McGonagall reading these notes over his shoulder and told him to put in that postscript, so that any mad man reading these as well would think, oh, so sorry for thinking otherwise!" Remus tried to demand while holding his sides.

"Yes," James said at once, the lot of them hardly intelligible they were giggling so hard.

3For a full description of these curious little tree-dwellers, see Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

4The Cruciatus, Imperius and Avada Kedavra Curses were first classified as Unforgivable in 1717, with the strictest penalties attached to their use.

"Hey, I actually knew that one," James muttered, trying for a proud tone, but merely shivering all over again of all those curses had done to his family.

As intensive studies in the Department of Mysteries demonstrated as far back as 1672, wizards and witches are born, not created. While the "rogue" ability to perform magic sometimes appears in those of apparent non-magical descent (though several later studies have suggested that there will have been a witch or wizard somewhere on the family tree), Muggles cannot perform magic. The best - or worst - they could hope for are random and uncontrollable effects generated by a genuine magical wand, which, as an instrument through which magic is supposed to be channelled, sometimes holds residual power that it may discharge at odd moments. See also the notes on wandlore for "The Tale of the Three Brothers".

"Well that's done." Sirius said in just a bit of disappointment as he reluctantly handed over the last story to James.

"How come you don't do those voices all the time?" Harry couldn't help but ask with amusement. "I'd like to hear you try me, or Ron and Hermione."

Sirius eyed him critically for a moment, before clearing his throat dramatically, and instead used a high nasally voice, "sorry, best I can do is more Prongs."

James whacked him upside the head.

Sirius hardly blinked and kept going in a more normal tone, "and I've never actually heard your friends voices, but I can do some guesses-"

"That's alright," Remus waved his hands pleadingly for James to go on or they'd be here all day.

James still had to pause for a moment and get his laughter under control before he could.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #The Life That Never Lived #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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rawmeanderson · 4 years

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bring you back to me ― part ix

ft. jeff skinner plot: when your high school sweetheart gets traded to the same city where you now live and work, your best friend just can’t mind her own business ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ warnings. swearing, drinking/drunkenness, all sorts of nsfw stuff 👏🏻 word count: 7.4k notes at the end! also, a maaaaasive shoutouts go to @ferraromarios, @drunkduncs, and @capobiancos for being such good, supportive friends 💖 visit my masterlist (there’s a link in the description!) to sign up for email alerts or to view the master document with all parts of the fic for easy binge reading!!

“God fucking dammit,” Lydia mutters after someone a few tables over called bingo, earning a dirty look from the older lady at the table ahead of you. You snort softly, reaching for your mimosa as Lydia continues to mutter under her breath.

“I don’t know why we keep coming here, you always end up so angry,” you tease, grinning as she rips of the top sheet of her cards.

“It’s boozy bingo, y/n, it’s worth the anger,” she says, looking at you like you should know that. Your only response is to finish off the rest of your drink, putting the empty glass down next to your cards to pick up your dauber.

Saturday afternoon boozy bingo was a staple for you and Lydia, but it was the first time you’d been back in a while. The brunch was good, but you mostly showed up for $1 mimosas and bloody marys, while Lydia was there for the bingo. She got wildly competitive during the game, and her trash talking had almost gotten you thrown out on a couple occasions. Honestly, the entertainment watching Lydia’s frustration build and build as the games went on made it all worth it.

Peter was with you today, since he was in town for a few more days. Since it was between games, he went up to the bar to grab drinks, including another mimosa for you.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while,” you tell her, nudging her under the table as you pout at her. A quiet chatter had started between games, and you were glad to have a minute alone with your best friend.

“Yeah, I know,” she responds, sighing as she pushes her hair out of her face. “Since my sister’s been out of town a lot for work, I’ve been having to take Mom to her appointments and stuff, and I’ve just been absolutely drained from it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you get a double dose of me today, right?” you ask, winking when she looks at you and you both laugh. The two of you were going to the game that night to see the Sabres play the Sharks.

Peter returns a second later, putting two mimosas down in front of you and you shoot him a thumbs up.

“Good call, bud,” you tell him, already reaching for one.

“I figured you might need the extra to help drown out this one,” he responds, pointing at Lydia with a grin. Lydia gave him the finger as he puts a bloody mary down in front of her. “Watch it, or I’ll spit in the next one.” You grimace at his warning even though it wasn’t directed to you, and you straightening up in your seat as the next game starts.

Between numbers, you sip at your drink and glance at your phone, figuring that Jeff is probably taking his pre-game nap by now. Tipsy already, the thought of climbing into bed with him for a nap is very appealing, but not worth leaving Lydia and Peter.

You had stayed at your own place last night, watching Jeff’s game in Detroit from your couch. Jeff had to be up early for a work out and press stuff before the game, and you’d used your morning to clean up around the house and to catch up on laundry. You’d even dug your suitcase out of your closet, knowing you needed to start packing soon since you and Jeff were leaving for your brother’s wedding in four days.

After bumping into Peter a few nights earlier, the two of you and Lydia had been able to make plans for Saturday afternoon, and here you were. You had pushed your hardest to go putt-putt-ing, but you were out voted in favor of boozy bingo.

Lydia is a number away from winning, nibbling on the end of the celery from her bloody mary as her eyes bounce over her cards. She’s murmuring the number she needs to herself and toying with the ends of her hair with tense shoulders.

“Is she always like this?” he asks when you look at him, voice low and almost concerned. Grinning, you nod, nearly laughing because you hadn’t realized he’d never been to bingo with her before.

“Yeah, she’s nearly got bingo down to an art form if you ask me,” you respond, sipping at your drink.

“I can hear you,” Lydia says with a grin, not even looking up from her cards.

In the end, none of you won anything, but you had more than your fair share of mimosas.You and Lydia had each been planning to rideshare home, but thankfully, Peter offered to play taxi driver since he hadn’t been drinking. Lydia was worse off than you and pissed that she hadn’t won anything, making her a damn near lethal combination.

“I swear, those old bitches cheat somehow,” she mutters as you approach Peter’s rental car. You laugh, nodding to appease her as she climbs in the backseat. You take shotgun, and Peter grins at you as he starts up the car.

“It’s like I never left, right?” he asks and you nod as Lydia continues to rant from the backseat. It was true though. Peter, never much of a drinker, had often played DD for you and Lydia in the time you’d known each other, and having him there again felt like nothing had changed.

Lydia’s place was closer, so she was dropped off first. As she steps out of the car, you roll your window down, reminding her to set an alarm so she wouldn’t oversleep and miss dinner and the game later. She thanks you, calling you ‘mom’ teasingly. Considering you’re drunk, it’s extra funny and sends you into a fit of laughter. Lydia threw a peace sign up before turning to make her way to her building, and you and Peter stay put to make sure she gets to the door without tripping or managing to fall over.

Satisfied that Lydia was safely inside, Peter pulled away from the curb, glancing at you. “You’re gonna have to tell me where to go,” he tells you.

You snort, shaking your head. “Shit, you know I have no sense of direction, so let’s see how this goes,” you joke, sitting up in your seat a little more. “Turn left up here, head toward downtown.”

Peter laughs, turning on his blinker on as he nods. The two of you are quiet for a few moments aside from you giving the occasional direction before starting in with a bit of small talk. You ask about his new office, how he’s adjusting to being in a new city, and he says he’s enjoying it, that he’s happy he made the move even if it did put him far from family.

“Have you found friends to replace Lydia and me yet?” you ask, trying to decide which would be the best route to get to Jeff’s from where you were then.

“Nah, impossible, really,” he admits, glancing at you with a grin.

“Well, shucks,” you tease, laughing as you push your hair back out of your face. Jeff still didn’t seem to be awake since he hadn’t answered any of your messages from earlier, and the thought of climbing into bed with him made you feel warm and soft all over. “Take a right up here, that way’s probably quicker.”

“The fuck do you mean, probably?” Peter questions, making you crack up all over again. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but Jeff Skinner, the professional hockey player, is your boyfriend, and you didn’t even tell me about it?”

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to look apologetic for not telling him but you just ended up grinning like an idiot at the mere mention of Jeff. “I’can’t believe Lydia didn’t tell you, this is the result of her handiwork.”

Peter’s not even surprised by that. “So, are you going to tell me how all of this happened, or what?”

You snort then, shrugging as you continue to smile. “I’ve known Jeff for as long as I can remember really. He played hockey with my brother when we were little, our families are friends. We dated for a while in high school, then he got drafted and went to North Carolina. Now eight years later, he got traded here and Lydia tricked me into going to a game, and here we are.”

“Shut the fuck up, that’s some rom-com shit, honestly,” he says, glancing at you with a look of teasing disbelief. “He’s a good guy though?”

The question makes you smile. Peter had always been one to look after both you and Lydia, and you’re glad to see that the distance hadn’t changed that. “The best, really. He always has been,” you assure him and he nods. “We’ve probably moved kind of fast, but it’s been so easy, like we just picked up where we left off.”

“Good. You’re happy, I can tell. I’ve never seen you light up like that when you talk about someone,” he tells you, looking over at you quickly before changing lanes.

Feeling your cheeks burn with a flush, you cross the subject. “Enough about me, what about you, huh? Have you been dating at all?” you question, raising an eyebrow as you glance over at him.

Peter laughs, shaking his head immediately. “No, not at all, honestly. I just feel like I haven’t had any time to even try. I’m trying to make friends first, then go from there,” he admits, and you nodding in understanding.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, that was me a couple years ago,” you way with a sympathetic smile. You spot Jeff’s building and quickly point it out to Peter. “It’s that one! Just drop me off where you can, I guess.”

Peter pulls to the curb, and you unfasten your seatbelt before turning to hug him over the center console. He hugs you back tightly, and when you pull away, you’re smiling.

“Have a good trip home tomorrow, and please, let us know when you’re in town next!” you say, making sure you’ve got your phone and keys before opening the door.

“Don’t worry, I will,” he promises as you climb out of the car. He waves as you close the door, and you do the same before heading toward the door.

In your drunken state, it takes a moment for you to figure out which key you need to use, then another to fit it into the lock to get into the lobby. You doubt Jeff is awake yet, but you text him to tell him you’re in the lobby anyway, and you press the up button on the elevator repeatedly in impatience.

You ran into the same delay with your keys outside Jeff’s door, and you nearly trip as you step into his apartment. It’s quiet and you hush yourself softly while toeing off your shows. Knowing you’d left a hamper of clean clothes in the laundry room, you stop there first to change into leggings and one of Jeff’s shirts, fully intent on being lazy and cozy until you had to leave for the game later.

Jeff’s bedroom door is partially open when you approach it a moment later, and you smile to yourself when you see him in bed. He’s shirtless, blankets pulled up to his chest and he’s sprawled out, looking so sweet and relaxed. You cross the room and slip under the sheets with him, the shifting of the bed making him sigh quietly in his sleep. Staying still for a moment, you listen to the even sound of his breathing before leaning over him enough to kiss his chest lightly.

He stirred a little, grumbling as he brought a hand up to run over your hair. Smiling to yourself, you kiss higher, along his neck and he loops an arm around you as you finally kiss his mouth.

“Hi,” you murmur, pulling back to look down at him.

“Hey,” he responds, sounding groggy as he turns his head to yawn. “What time is it?”

“Almost 2,” you say, pressing another kiss to his mouth before shifting to straddle him. He looks up at with a sleepy grin as you drape your body over his. “Did you have a good nap?” Jeff nods, tilting his head up enough to kiss you again. You feel warm all over, absolutely giddy just to be there with him.

“Did you have a good time gambling and day drinking?” he asks and you snort, laughing as you nod back at him. You reposition yourself just slightly, hips pressing down against his in a way that makes electricity shoot up your spine.

“Yeah, it was fun. Lydia drank more than I did, so she was all fired up about losing,” you tell him, moving down his body more and kissing his collarbone.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure she was,” he responds, bringing a hand up to push your hair back out of your face. He toys with the strands idly as you move lower again, kissing down his chest as you glance up at him. “What are you doing?” A crooked grin settles on his face that you mirror back to him.

“Haven’t decided yet,” you murmur, kissing his stomach as you toy with the waist of his sweatpants. He chuckles softly, nodding and tucking a hand behind his head as he watches you. Looking up at him, you bite your lip while shifting to kneel between his knees.

“We’ve got a couple of hours to figure it out,” he teases, and you grin, humming in agreement as you kiss the line of his hip.

“Don’t think I’ll need that long,” you respond, bringing a hand up to brush your knuckles over the hardening line of his cock. Looking up at him through your lashes, you kiss just above the band of his pants. His abs tense at the light touch of your lips, making you smirk.

When his hand tightens into a fist at his side, you can’t help the soft chuckle that leaves you. Moving lower, your lips ghost over the obvious bludge of his cock and he swears under his breath, hips twitching with the effort to keep still as he watches you.

“Christ, are you trying to make me beg for it?” he asks, and you look up in time to see him practically squirming in place.

You bite your lip again in an attempt to hide the grin that spread across your face, shrugging as you tilt your head to one side. “I haven’t ruled it out,” you say in an attempt to sound coy. Jeff cursed then, letting his head fall back against the pillow, and you laugh quietly, shaking your head. “So impatient.” Your words come as you tsk softly, and he nods in response, exhaling a breath.

Jeff brings a hand up to push your hair out of your face so he can look at you, a tender motion that never fails to make you shiver. You glance up to make eye contact with him before giving in and starting to tugs his sweats down his hips. He lets out a relieved sigh, lifting his hips lazily to help you out, and your mouth follows the path of the fabric, kissing his newly exposed skin.

With his cock free, your hand moves quickly, stroking him slowly from base to tip with a hum. He twitches against your palm, and he twists the sheets in his fist when your head tilts to trace the vein the runs up his shaft with your tongue. Your mouth is practically watering by the time your lips close enough the head of his cock, sucking lightly before pulling off. A sound of frustration leaves him and your grin reappears.

“You ready to beg yet, or should I keep teasing?” you ask, eyebrow raised as you stroke him again slowly. He hisses, hips rocking toward your hand as his brows knit together. His chest is flushed, the color rising higher and he whines your name so quietly that you can barely hear it.

“Fuuuck, y/n. Please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low. He’s watching you intently, eyes on your hand that’s wrapped around his dick as it continues to move in lazy strokes. You raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue, loving the way he’s absolutely squirming. “Goddammit, I need your mouth, please.”

Jeff’s getting whinier with each passing second and it’s far too hot to say no to. You stroke him a few more times, loving the sound of him panting for you, cheeks flushed, before closing your lips around the head of his cock again. He makes a sound like the wind’s been knocked out of him, and it does wonders for your ego.

“Holy shit, thank you,” he says, sounding breathless already as you take him deeper in your mouth. His hand leaves his side to come up to your hair, tangling in the strands as he pulls it away from your face. “You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth.” The words leave him so casually that it makes you moan, pulling back enough to soothe your tongue over the slit at the head of his dick.

You start bobbing your head in slow movements, taking him deep enough that your gag reflex is almost triggered. He groans, the sound leaving him slowly as his hips press up toward you. Your clit is throbbing between your thighs then, and you can feel how slick you are when you shift. Bringing a hand up to rest on his thigh, you let your nails drag over his skin lightly as you bob your head, taking your time to let him slip deeper down your throat.

A slew of curses leaves him when you swallow around him, his hand tightening in your hair as his hips twitch toward your mouth again. You can taste pre-cum at the back of your tongue and you groan around him, relaxing your jaw as you take him deep enough that your nose is pressing against his pelvis.

Jeff makes a punched out sound, murmuring that he loves you, and when you glance up at him, he’s still watching you closely. You nearly pull off him, taking a breath and teasing along a vein with the tip of your tongue. He’s tense, practically slack-jawed as he keeps his eyes on you.

You love when he’s like this, putty in your hands (or mouth to be more specific) like you’re the only thing in the world that he’s ever wanted. His flush has moved up his neck and he’s breathing heavily, groaning as you bob your head shallowly. The sounds he makes never fail to make your pussy throb, and when you lean over him more, you can tell that you’ve already soaked through your panties.

“Baby, unless you want me cumming down your throat, you should stop,” he warns before you’ve even let him slip down your throat again.

You pull off, lifting your head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, I don’t hate the sound of that,” you tease, stroking his cock slowly in the absence of your mouth on him.

He curses softly, head falling back against the pillow while murmuring something about you trying to kill him and you laugh, leaning forward to kiss his stomach once before pulling back.

You get to your feet on shaky legs, grinning at him as you pull your shirt off over your head, unclipping your bra a second later and letting the fabric drop to the floor. Jeff manages to tear his eyes away from you long enough to nudge his sweats off and grab a condom while you slip out of your leggings. You nearly trip as you get your panties and leggings off completely, and you laugh as you catch your balance.

“You okay?” Jeff asks, glancing at you with a wide smile on his face as he rips he condom open.

“Yep, never better,” you respond, smiling as you push your hair out of your face. Returning to the bed, you lean over him, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth. You swing your leg over his hip as he rolls the condom down onto his length, his eyes taking in the sight of your body over his again.

One of Jeff’s hand comes up to rest on your waist, leaning up enough to kiss you again, while the other slips between your legs. A low groan leaves you as his fingers slide through your folds, hips immediately canting down against his hand.

“Fuck, Jeff,” you breathe, a whimper catching in your throat. He hums in appreciation when your wetness coats his fingers, toying with your clit to make you squirm over him.

“God, you’re always so fucking wet after sucking my cock,” he murmurs, voice low as he looks up at you. His fingers are sliding through your folds effortlessly, teasing at your entrance, and you groan his name again, grinding against his hand eagerly.

Making an impatient sound, you shift, hand slipping between your bodies to guide his cock to your entrance. Your touch makes him curse softly, his lips parting as his eyes drop down to watch his cock sink into you as your hips lower toward his.

“Shit, y/n,” he groans, head falling back against the pillow with a content sigh. His hands move to your hips, resting there as you sink onto him further.

You’d forgotten how much you love riding him, how he makes you feel so full as he looks up at you like you’ll disappear if he looks away. Your thighs are tense and you bite your lip, your hands pressing against his chest as your hips lower a little more, and a moan catches in your throat. His thumb brushes idly over your skin, the other hand moving higher over your waist until he’s cupping your breast in his palm.

Leaning over him, hands resting on either side of his head, you kiss him as your hips roll down against his. He moans into your mouth, hand sliding from your hip to your ass, squeezing you there as his thumb drags over your nipple. You shiver, melting against him with a wanton groan as you try to settle into a rhythm. The head of his cock hits your g-spot with the next motion of your hips, making you tighten around him.

You’re doing your best as you try to keep focused on easy rhythm you’ve set, pussy throbbing around his length as you sit up again. Hands resting on his chest, you bite your lip playfully, grinning down at him as you grind against him rougher than before. A gasp slips from you, given the friction of your clit against his pelvic bone, and Jeff hums, eyes sliding over your frame as he rolls your nipple between his fingers.

“Mm, sweetheart,” he breaths, squeezing your ass as your hips grind into his again, the friction too good to stop chasing. “Fuck, that’s good.” You nod quickly, panting out a curse as you tilt your head back to get your hair out of your face.

It surprises you when Jeff fucks up into you, a whine slipping past your lips as your hips slam down to meet his. He curses loudly, the grip on you ass tightening and guiding your hips forward against his again. You can tell that you’re soaked, making the slide of his cock in and out of you easy and downright sinfully good.

“Come here,” Jeff says, voice low as he pulls you down to him easily. You chuckle, grinning as you lean over him again, hips never slowing as you continue to rock against him. His hand slips into your hair, keeping it back from your face and tangling in the strands as he kisses you.

You moan, whining as his teeth catch on your bottom lip. Your clit is begging for attention and a jolt runs down your spine to your core as he tugs at your nipple. “Oh, fuck, I love you,” you pant, the words exhaled into his mouth before you’re kissing him again desperately. You’re close, toes curling as your hand slips between your bodies to help yourself along.

The extra friction makes you cry out, mouth leaving his as you try to catch your breath. His mouth moves to your neck, finding the spot that always takes your breath away, then moving down to your collarbone. He tugs at your hair, not enough to hurt but enough that you gasp, the sound fading into a whine as his mouth moves over your chest. Your movements have grown more erratic, searching for the perfect combination of friction to send you over the edge.

As good as it feels to have his mouth on you and to be kissing him, you sit up again, knowing the angle is just that much better. It only takes a few rocks of your hips to have you groaning in satisfaction, leaning back slightly and resting a hand on his thigh for support while still rubbing your clit. Jeff’s eyes are glued to you as his hand comes nudges yours out of the way toy with the swollen bundle of nerves himself. You don’t stop him, a smirk sliding onto your face briefly before your mouth falls open with a moan.

“God, Jeff, that’s so fucking good,” you whimper, thighs shaking as he fucks up into you and hitting your g-spot in a way that makes you gasp. The bed is squeaking slightly with the movement of you, mixing with the sounds you’re each making.

It didn’t surprise you when your orgasm washed over you a moment later, knowing how easy it was for him to just completely unravel you. You cried out, head falling back as you try to keep the motion of your hips going. It’s more difficult than you expected, moaning his name as you grind down against him roughly.

He nods beneath you, brow creased in concentration as his thumb continues to rub firm circles against your clit. Leaning forward slightly, your hands press against his chest and you can tell from the look in his eye that he’s close as well. Your nails dig into skin, making him hiss and groan that he loves you. The rustling of fabric beneath you gives way to his pressing his foot into the mattress for leverage, as he grips your hip with one hand.

Jeff fucks up into you at the perfect angle to make you go still, desperate for him to keep hitting that same spot. Reduced to whimpering, your eyes squeeze shut, body still as his hips slam up into yours. The sound of skin on skin, his heavy breathing, and your breathless whines filled the room, and you could feel that you’d each worked up a bit of a sweat. A chill runs through your body like electricity, making you shudder as your orgasm starts to fade.

Your pussy is still tight around him when his thumb leaves your clit before he’s tugging you down to him more. He pressed his face into your neck, breathing hot into your skin and groaning while kissing down to your breasts again. He sighs your name into your chest as he cums a short moment later, grunting roughly as his hips slow until he’s worn out. You move slowly, eager to drag out the last few seconds of pleasure.

Jeff melts into the mattress as he rests his head against the pillow. His eyes are closed and you imagine that if it weren’t for the hand rubbing over your thigh contently, you’d think he’d gone back to sleep already. You don’t pull away just yet, kissing down his chest as you try to catch your breath. He’s so relaxed and you can feel his heart pounding as his hand leaves your thigh.

When he pushes your hair out of your face you look up to see him grinning at you. “Have I told you that I love you recently?” he asks, the words coming slow. His voice was like warm honey and you smile back at him before leaning up enough to press a lingering kiss to his mouth.

“A few times, yeah,” you respond, hips resting down against his as you enjoy the fullness of having him inside you still.

“Mm, gotcha,” he says, toying with the ends of your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You only came once, didn’t you?” His brow creases slightly when you nod.

“Yeah, but trust me, I am a very satisfied customer,” you assure him, only to hear him snort with laughter in response. He guides your mouth back to yours, and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. It’s slow at first, but when his tongue slides over yours, you feel your clit throb.

“Want me eat you out?” he asks, his mouth barely leaving yours. The words seem so casual and you groan, tightening around him enough that he cursed under his breath. It only takes another second before you’re nodding, moaning into his mouth as he starts to untangle himself from you.

Jeff turns you over onto your back easily and pulls out before kissing you hard before getting to his feet. Legs still open for him, you watch the muscles of his torso move as he discards the condom. Your hand slips between your thighs impatiently, and when he follows the motion of your hand, he smirks, tugging you an inch or two closer by the ankle.

He climbs back onto the bed, getting settled on his stomach between your thighs. After moving your hand away from your clit, he sucks your fingers into his mouth briefly, smirk never leaving. Guiding your legs over his shoulders, he groaned loudly at the sight of you. You knew you were absolutely soaked, and when you felt his tongue sweep through your sensitive folds a second later, your hips twitched toward his mouth.

His mouth is hot against you and your hand moves to his hair, fingers tangling in his short curls. You tug at the strands, nails brushing over his scalp to make him hum in approval. It’s impossible to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs around his head as you whimper, hips rocking easily against his mouth. He swings an arm over you to keep you still, leaning into you more while he licks from your entrance, up to your clit, then back slowly. You realize he’s cleaning you up and you relax back into the mattress as your heel digs into the back of his shoulder.

Jeff’s tongue is still moving slowly through your folds, just taking his time and you watch him with heavy lidded eyes. The damp heat of his breath hitting your skin had you shivering while your legs shake. Your fingers curl in his hair as you inhale sharply, your other hand dropping to brush light circles against your nipple.

He’s watching you with dark eyes, watching the way you tease at your breast. His pressure changes then, tongue going from slow and lazy to hungry and firm it sinks into you. You try to buck up against him but his arm keeps you in place. A wanton moan leaves you as his tongue fucks into you again before dragging slowly up to your clit again, with the same firmness that has you squeezing your thighs around his head again.

Your thumb brushes over your nipple just as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking against you quickly and you exhale a desperate sound. “Fuuck, Jeff,” you whine, his name cut short when you cry out as he sinks a finger into you. You can feel yourself shaking, already right there at the edge with how he’d fucked you earlier.

Meeting his eye, you nod weakly and he takes your cue to sink a second fingers into your pussy. Your head falls back against the sheets as your back arches, and when his digits curl against your g-spot, you let out a string of curses. He can tell that you’re getting close and he releases your clit, taking a second to breathe before teasing at your clit again. You had abandoned the idea of toying with your nipple, far too consumed by the soft sounds of his mouth working against you.

His fingers are deep inside you, scissoring slightly and always making sure to hit your g-spot, and your legs tighten around his shoulders. Squirming, you again find yourself trapped by his arm and you make a frustrated noise that makes him pull away from you slightly.

“Cum for me, baby,” he tells you, already leaning back to seal his lips around your clit again.

Your whines build and build, eyes squeezing shut as his fingers fuck into you, and you topple over the edge a second later. You cum with a sharp moan, pulsing tightly around his fingers as Jeff groans against you, fingers still curling inside you. The orgasm is hot and bright, and Jeff guides you through it, murmuring praise every time he’s pull back from you to take a breath.

When you float back down, your eyes are heavy and you finally loosen your grip on Jeff’s hair slightly. His fingers are gone and he’s back to lapping at your folds lazily, making it that much harder to keep yourself from shaking. After another moment, you have to push him away, gasping you try to wiggle away from him.

Jeff chuckles softly, turning his head to rest against your thigh as he looks up at you. His cheeks are rosy, and when he grins, you can see that his mouth and chin are shiny with you’re wetness.

“Thought you were drying to suffocate me there for a minute,” he teases, hand sliding along your thigh as he guides your leg off his shoulder.

Laughing, you nudge him gently with your knee. “Shut up,” you respond, shaking your head as he leans up, pressing a kiss to your stomach. The light touch of his mouth makes you shiver, and you run a fingertip down his nose lightly. You’re trembling slightly, shivering as you try and catch your breath.

Jeff noses at your ribs, kissing his way up your body. Your hand returns to his hair, smoothing it with a light touch. The longer you stay there, the more relaxed you feel, and you realize that it’d be very easy to doze off. As Jeff’s mouth moved higher, he shifted to lean over you, his body radiating warmth as he kisses you on the mouth.

When he pulls away, it’s to settle back against the pillows, and he chuckles when you pout at him slightly. “C’mere, lazy,” he says, patting his chest before tugging at your hand to get you to move.

Sighing heavily, you move, curling into his side. Jeff pulls the blankets over both of you and your head settles on your chest.

tt’s easy to doze for the next hour or so, curled up with him. He had turned the TV at one point, but you weren’t conscious enough to really be sure what he was watching. Jeff ordered food, and when he went to open the door, you rolled into the warm spot he’d left behind, enjoying the smell of his shampoo and cologne clinging to the sheets. When he returned, you heard him scoff at the fact that you’d stolen his spot.

He decides to leave you be, turning around to go eat at the table and that’s when you fully drift off. Some time later, Jeff wakes you up by rubbing a hand over your back to tell you that he was leaving for the arena.

With a warm, sleepy smile you roll onto your side, promising that you’ll see him soon. You kiss him a few times before he stands up and you get the chance to appreciate how good he looks in his suit before he leaves.

Hours later, you’re awake, dressed, and enjoying the game with Lydia. The score was tied by midway through the second period and Jeff had two assists. Sipping at your beer, your eyes are on the ice, but Lydia is practically vibrating next to you.

There’s a stoppage in play a second later and you look at her with an eyebrow raised. “Go ahead,” you tell her, taking another drink. You’re wearing your jersey tonight with black jeans and booties, and Lydia’s in an Eichel jersey that you feel like you haven’t seen before.

“What are you talking about?” Lydia asks, brow creasing as she glances up at the scoreboard.

“You are clearly dying to tell me something, so go ahead,” you respond, laughing slightly. She rolls her eyes, hating that she makes things so obvious.

“I left my bag in Peter’s car, so he stopped by with it after dropping you off,” she says, pausing heavily. It doesn’t take you long to figure out what she’s implying, and you snort, shaking your head.

“Girl, look at you,” you tell her, laughing as you raise your beer to her. “Wait, did you leave your bag in his car on purpose?”

She snorts, shrugging, and you both double over in laughter. It wasn’t the first time she’d used that move, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Not like you can judge. I’d bet $50 that you went straight to Jeff’s to get busy,” she teases, and your response is to shrug, because it’s not like you’d take that bet.

The two of you continued to to chit-chat and drink, enjoying yourselves as the second period wound down. With a little over a minute to go in the period, Jeff took a hit that made you gasp, bringing you to your feet when he didn’t get up immediately. The arena was full of chatter and your heart was thundering in your chest, watching as Jeff finally got up with the help of his teammates. You dropped into your seat as he immediately went down the tunnel, and Lydia was quick to take your hand, holding it tightly.

You didn’t know what to do, so you sat there, chewing on your lip and bouncing your leg idly. Lydia was quiet, still holding your hand because she wasn’t sure what else to do to help you feel better. Your stomach twists in knots, and you send Jeff a text, unsure of when he’d even have the chance to check his phone.

“Y/n, Twitter says he’s not coming back to the game,” Lydia tells you and you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. Through most of intermission, you’re silent, staring at your phone and hoping for some sort of news.

It finally came a few minutes into the 3rd period, a text from Jeff, asking you come down to where you usually meet him. Lydia promises that she’ll be fine watching the rest of the game by herself, and you nod, taking off up the stairs just as the Sabres score.

When you see Jeff, seeing that he’s upright and grinning, you’re relieved, putting your arms around him when you’re close enough. He’s freshly showered, and he settles an arm around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m alright, I promise,” he tells you, giving your body a reassuring squeeze. “Knocked the wind out of me pretty bad, and my shoulder hurts like hell, but I’m alright. They don’t think I’ll be out at all.” You nod, finally pulling back to look up at him.

You drove Jeff home and just as you were parking in his garage, you got the notification that Casey scored an empty net goal to seal the win for the Sabres. He was moving a little slower than usual and in the elevator, he was leaning into you. Neither of you said much got in the door, and Jeff immediately headed toward his room. He had mentioned the the trainer had given him some meds, and you could tell he was frustrated about being out for the night, so you gave him some space.

You busy yourself by tidying up the living room some. Folding a blanket, fluffing the pillows, and a few other meaningless tasks to pass a little bit of time. He had always been quiet after a bad game or something like this, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise.

When you come into the bedroom, he’s already in bed, on his back with one arm draped over his eyes. Jeff doesn’t move as you cross the room to go into the bathroom. You wash your face and brush your teeth before heading back into his room so you can change. After hanging up your jersey, you change into a pair of sweats and one of Jeff’s shirts, and when you turn around, he’s watching you with a sad look in his eye.

“Which side do you want me on?” you ask, giving him a sympathetic smile. He pats his left side and you climb into bed with him. It takes no time at all for him to roll toward you, settling himself under your arm to nuzzle into your collarbone.

You hardly mind, loving how quickly he curled around you. His breath against you, and your fingers rub lightly of his back as you feel him relax. Turning your head slightly, you kiss the side of his head and he snuggles into your shoulder a little more.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, voice soft as you toy with his hair.

“M’okay,” he mumbles, so pitifully that you chuckle. He exhales a deep sigh before shifting onto his side a little more, but keeping his head where it was on your shoulder. “Just glad we got to 2 points.” You nod, enjoying the way he’s leaning into your touch as you continue to play with his short curls.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to watch something?” Your voice is quiet, just hoping there’s something you can do to help him feel better.

“Not hungry, but you can put something on if you want. Can’t promise I’ll stay up for long though, I’m already pretty drowsy,” he says, tipping his head up to look at you. He looks sleepy, and you nod, pressing an easy kiss to his mouth before you reach for the remote.

“No preference what I put on then?”

“Nah, not really,” he says, settling his head on your chest again as you start scrolling through Netflix. You’re both quiet for a moment as you start an episode of Derry Girls, and with the sound of Jeff’s even breathing, you think he’s asleep already, so it surprises you when he speaks again. “Are you ready for next weekend?”

You don’t answer right away, but a second later, you nod. “Yeah, I think so. I’m kind of nervous too, but I don’t really know why,” you admit, shrugging as you keep your eyes on the tv. Knowing you probably wouldn’t bother staying up much later, you turn off the lights, grateful for the fancy tech in Jeff’s room that allows you to do it from your phone.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he says, his arm tightening around your waist. “I’m excited though, for everyone to know about us.” You smile warmly to yourself and hum in agreement.

“Me too. I’m still a little nervous, but I know it’ll be a good weekend. It’ll be nice to see everybody.”

“Mhm. Just a few more days now. Are you still coming to the game Wednesday? Figured we could leave straight from the arena,” he says, words coming slower and slower.

“Works for me,” you tell him, starting to play with his hair again. He nods, yawning before settling into you even more.

It’s no surprise that he dozes off shortly after, and you don’t stay up much later, just long enough to finish the episode you’d started. Once you turn off the tv, you lay there in the dark, enjoying the sound of Jeff’s breathing and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. It’s easy to get to sleep that night.

TA-DUH!!! I really like this chapter guys, and I hope you do as well!!! next chapter starts the 4 chapter long section of being at the wedding and i’m so excited to start working on those chapters!

#jeff skinner imagine #jeff skinner smut #bybtm #nhl imagines #nhl smut #buffalo sabres imagine

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fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan · 5 years

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Nudge - Jeff Skinner

Request: is there anyway you could write a jeff skinner fit

I sipped on my beer as I watched the players skate around for warm ups, my sister had won tickets to the game and when her boyfriend got called out of town on work I was dragged to the game. As one of the players skated around I made eye contact with him, he had a huge smile on his face and it made me smile. He waved at me, causing my sister to smack me in the shoulder. “He’s cute!” I watched as his teammate jumped on him making crash into the boards right in front of me. “Melissa! Let’s take a picture.”

I rolled my eyes as we both turned so our backs were to the ice before Anna lifted her phone snapping the picture before I sat down. I felt like someone was staring at me and number 53 was still looking at me. One of his teammates skated up next to him, chatting with him as they both looked over in my direction. I was the first one to break eye contact, looking down at my feet and by the time I looked back up they were both skating around the ice. I felt relieved that they were don’t looking at me, I hated being stared at, I preferred to blend into the crowd.

Looking at my phone I didn’t look up until someone was pound on the glass in front of me, when I lifted my eyes it was 53 with another friendly smile on his face. He held up a puck then pointed to me before motioning that he was going to toss it over the glass. I gave a slow nod before smiling at him, his smile was contagious. The puck made it over the glass easily and I managed to catch it but before I could look back up he was skating away and off of the ice.

“Lis, look at the puck.” Listening to my sister I looked at the puck and saw writing on it. There was a phone number followed by a single word. ‘Date?’

“Are you going to contact him?”

“What? No. Why would he be interested in me?”

“Because you are stunning! Now you need to call him or something or I will for you. And I will be very flirty.”

“What if he is a crazy person?”

“He’s a professional hockey player. Come on! Be adventurous for once.”

“Fine.” I took a picture of the puck before sending it to the number written on it. I didn’t write anything in the message and hit send before showing it to my sister. “Happy?”

“I guess I shouldn’t expect more.” I rolled my eyes as the teams came back out, the game started soon after and I tried to follow what was happening on the ice. I wasn’t a big hockey fan, only having seen a few games in the past and they were all on television. My sister was having a blast and as we left the arena after the Sabres had won 4-1 and 53 had two goals, I was listening to her go on and on about the game. “Thank you for coming with me Lis.”

“Don’t worry about it, it was nice to spend the night together.”

“Yeah, and you might get a date out of this.” I didn’t bring up how I doubted I would get anything back, just getting ready to walk in the cold to my sister’s downtown apartment where I had left my car so we didn’t have to deal with parking at the arena. “Do you want to come up for a bit?”

“No, I should get home. I have to finish editing a book tomorrow. I had fun tonight, thanks for inviting me.”

“I’m glad, I know something like this isn’t really your thing.” We hugged before I grabbed my keys out. “Let me know when you get home, and when you hear back from him.”

“Goodnight Anna.” Getting into my car I drove home to my town house, when I got home I pulled off my boots before grabbing a glass of wine and sitting down on my couch. Being an introvert, tonight was a lot for me. It took a lot out of me with the large crowds and the player staring at me, it was almost too much but I loved spending time with my crazy extroverted sister. I was watching a cooking show when my phone buzzed, I figured it was my sister responding to my text that I was home but my phone showed the title hockey boy. “Hello?”

“Hi. Um, wow I didn’t think this would work. I’m gonna have to tell Eichs he is a genius.”

“Who am I speaking to?”

“Shit, sorry. Hi. I’m Jeff. We kind of met at the hockey game tonight, I gave you a puck?”

“Yes, I remember.” I was really bad at this, I am so bad at this kind of thing.

“Can I ask your name?”

“Melissa.”

“I’m really glad you sent me that text Melissa, I really wanted to talk to you.”

“I almost didn’t contact you, my sister pushed me to do it. I don’t usually do stuff like this.”

“Neither do I, I’m glad we both stepped out of our comfort zone. I really want to keep talking to you but I’m about to get on the team flight. Could I meet you for drinks when I’m back in town?”

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. Can I text you to get a plan in place?”

“Yeah, sure.” We said our goodbyes before I hung up and questioned what I had just done. I wasn’t one for dating, I had a few boyfriends before but they never really stuck around for too long, they seemed annoyed that I preferred to stay at home instead of going out. I liked quiet nights instead of nights out a club with pounding music, annoying my then boyfriends. I didn’t know what this would bring but I figured I would give it a shot since I already stepped out of my comfort zone once tonight.

Over the next couple of days I texted with Jeff, getting to know more about him while also making plans for this date. So I pulled my car up to the coffee shop I had suggested, it is a nice quiet place so I knew I would be a little more comfortable. I sat in my car for a few minutes, trying to calm my nerves when someone knocked on my car window. I let out a scream before turning to see Jeff standing there. Stepping out of the car, Jeff stood there with his hands in his pockets. “Sorry if I scared you, I was already in the cafe and I saw you pull up. When you didn’t come in I thought something was wrong.”

“No, sorry. I was just getting ready to come in. I should have texted you that I would be right in.”

“Should we go inside? I grabbed a table.” I nodded as we headed inside and to the table Jeff had been at. “I can go grab a drink for you, if you want?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I told him my coffee order and he came back a few minutes later with my drink, handing it to me before he sat down. We sat in a uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before I took a sip of my drink and spoke. “I’m really bad at this.”

Jeff chuckled before nodding, “Me too. I actually was looking up good questions to ask on a first date.”

“Any good ones?” I gave him a gentle smile,

“Um, what kind of job do you have?”

“I’m a book editor. I work for a publishing house in New York City, I commute out there once a month for a few days. They like my work enough to let me work remotely, New York City isn’t the best environment for an extreme introvert like me.”

“That’s awesome! Do you get to work on all kinds of books or just a certain genre?” Jeff was charming and kept the conversation moving, he seemed really invested in my answers. We talked for hours, talking about anything and everything. It was one of the easiest conversations I had have with someone that I wasn’t related to, or a work conversation. My phone went off at one point and the time shocked me.

“It’s 5! I can’t believe it.”

“Am I keeping you from something? I don’t want hold you up if you need to go.”

“No, I just didn’t realize how long we’ve been here. Would you like to get dinner with me?” I took the leap my sister was always telling me about, I stepped out of my comfort zone and put myself out there.

“I would like that a lot.” Leaving the coffee shop I agreed to ride with Jeff, I was excited to see where the day took us and how he might be able to push me out of my comfort zone even more. After a few hours with Jeff I knew he could nudge me out of my comfort zone, I couldn’t wait to see.

Request Are Open!!!

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bd-bandkanon · 5 years

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so I’ve been playing this game called Kenshi and it’s ruining my life I guess?

I did a short 'noob fail’ playthrough with the Wanderer start and a boring random dude I called “Tiddlywinks”. Within 24 in-game hours he broke both his arms trying to fight without weapons, got beat up by hungry bandits, and then got eaten alive by blood spiders, so that didn’t go over well...

But then I started a new game with the Nobodies start. I got to have five characters, though they started out in the horrifically unforgiving desert called Venge, which has broken skeletons (robots) wandering the sands and giant flesh-scorching lasers shooting from the heavens. These guys were my characters. They survived thus far, and have each developed their own array of skills, and as I kept learning about the lore of the game I also began to build on each of their backstories... So here they are in order of appearance I guess lol

First there’s the Greenlander Fujin, a twice-traitor to her former factions and the daughter of a high-ranking samurai. First she freed a bunch of slaves and ran away from her home in the Empire-owned city of Heng, then she joined the Dust Bandits and, after some time, abandoned them as well. All she wants in life is a ‘family’ of her choosing. Seems like she’s got what she wants now-- and she’ll do everything in her power to protect them.

With a Plank type weapon as her go-to and heavy armor to soak damage, Fujin is definitely the tank of the team, but also the fastest for reasons I might explain later...

Then we have the Scorchlander twins, both escaped slaves of the Holy Nation and both actively in search of a place they can call home, free of influence from uncaring factions and safe from the dangers of the wild-- like Fogmen for instance. So Mongrel is out of the question. Ares is a vigilante at heart and will be quick to free any slave from their shackles if she sees them, and Vass is constantly prodding the land hoping there’s a place suitable for living.

Vass is both fast and an excellent dodger, preferring the sabre but capable of martial arts if need be, and Ares is a sharpshooter. (It’s fun to aggro enemies with Vass while Ares bumps them off from a long distance)

This next one is pretty long: Leer is a Hive Worker Drone, which are usually dumb and flimsy-- but he’s kind of a rare gem. Stolen from his Hive shortly after his conception by a skeleton named Kite, Leer was raised and educated in Black Desert City, a town run entirely by skeletons in the barren region of persistent acid-rain known as the Deadlands. There he was brought up differently from his Hiver kin, excelling in subjects that even Greenlanders don’t have access to. He was happy there-- until one day Kite vanished, never to be seen again. Leer set off in search of his mentor, but such sudden exposure to the outside world was quite the shock to him. People degraded him for his race, judging his intelligence by it, and used his physical weakness against him. He was a target for everyone and everything, subject to assault and abuse from all angles. It was only a matter of time before he employed the company of two scorchlander twins and a very large woman to protect him on his journey... but deep-set feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt lead him to set his own goals aside in favor of theirs. He truly wishes to be useful to his friends, but at the same time he also wants to be reunited with Kite. Despite all this, despite EVERYTHING, Leer is the brains of the group. A strategist suited for warfare, he has so far orchestrated the most successful of the group’s battles, has prospected the regions, has done all the research-- and very recently he gained the alliance of about 27 damaged skeletons... Very soon people will have to call him Commander Leer.

On the actual gameplay side of things though, he really IS the best prospector and researcher of the five. I don’t know how I managed this. But I like it. Not to mention he’s pretty formidable with the naginata and other such polearms, though for a while he did tend to have to switch out to katanas because he is indeed squishy and his left arm was quite the target. But now it’s gotten to the point where barely anything can get more than one hit in on him, and that’s not just thanks to his skeleton army.

And now for the one we’ve all (just me actually) been waiting for: Ghost. (I briefly considered renaming him Geist because I discovered there’s a canon character named Ghost in the game, but Ghost just suits him better.) Discovered by the group in a ruined lab in Venge, they reportedly witnessed a bunch of skeleton Thralls (headless broken skeletons) working on him. The group wasn’t sneaky enough though and got attacked by these Thralls-- just in time for him to wake up. Just like that, the thralls left without a second notice as if they’d been called away, leaving the four alone with Ghost who quickly got to patching them up. Upon questioning, they discovered that Ghost didn’t remember anything from before he awoke-- not even who he was. It was Vass’ idea to give him the name Ghost, and with nowhere else to go, he chose to accompany them out of Venge and onward. Not long after, problems began to arise. He’d have violent attacks wherein he’d be overtaken by pain and black out. When he’d come to, small memories from his past would become revealed to him. But many of these things wouldn’t add up. As if he’d been in two places at once... Worse yet, he was soon to find that there’s a strange inconsistency with Skeletons, how their memory reportedly degrades over time thus leaving the past in shadows, and yet the way they react to his own plight... Very distressing, one might say. Either way, it’s this plight of his that inspires the group to venture to places they would otherwise never attempt to travel, and uncover things no man should ever see. He’s a driving force, almost as if he’s meant to lead them... somewhere. Who knows where. Only time will tell.

Ghost’s stats are the best out of all of them, all things considered. Mainly relying on katanas, with a hand in ranged weapons as well, he’s more often than not the last one standing. He’s even taken on entire hordes of enemies while his companions lay helpless. In short, he’s a freaking badass. It’s wise not to mess with him, even if you think you have him outnumbered. (But I wouldn’t put him up against a group of crab raiders...)

One final note, I actually had to rework Ghost’s design because honestly? I can’t draw the canon design for the typical skeleton without making it look janky as all hell. So I came up with something --- close, but definitely not the same.

But now that I’ve finally got all that down on paper I can finally go to bed I’ll probably talk more about this later goodnight bye

#kenshi #kenshi game #senhyakkin #ocs #art #::ars #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa why do i do this shit #i'm such a lOSER #I NEED TO SLEEP

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queencryo · 5 years

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cdda:

so. today i honked a car horn, cuz zombies keep spawni g on my property (big ol farm im hopefully gonna start building walls arounf soon) bc i have wandering spawns n such on (this also means my two remaining horses and two dogs are all cooped up in yhe chicjen coop so that zombies will stop truing yo fight them)

so an6way. i honk yhe horn yo get zombies to spawn, tjinking yeah. lets kinda clear out this area a little (iirc once you kill enough zonbies in an area it stays empty).

next day: like five shitheads spawn inside my greenhouse, and destroy basically every planter in there and most of the greenhouse itself!!! ugh. i clear up the wreckage and.... leave most of it sitting there. maybe ill rebuild at some point? i also move my mostly-intact electric car (with solar panels! :) ) far away from my property, that way it doesnt get roughed up in any scuffles

next day: jesus fuck. i swear two hordes got spawned in different parts of my property. it was. not a hard fight at all, actually (linsey has hells of dodge skill, is fast, and has a cavalry sabre). i had to make like three seperate burn piles, because my corpse/burn pit filled up before i had even a quarter of em in there. so fhat was fun. i didnt even really loot much ofd the bodies, iirc there was basiclaly nothing of interest unless i wanted to clean blood and guts off leather pants to be cut up for raw materials. they ddid almost tear apart like. my backpack AND my utility vest tho, so... was lucky i managed to get those off before they got torn up irreparably.

current plan is to get palisades around mpst of the property (logs are easy, if time-consuming, to get. wire to tie em together with has mostly been from chain-link fences from the nearby town). that... hasnt really started yet, but i5s ginna be a multi-week project, id not more, to actually get all that set up (each one will need about 1/4 - 1/2 of a tree, and i will need.... idk really, but probably over a hundred palisade walls). maybe itd help to get some help, but the only humans ive seen were bandits outside the mansion i was holed up in, anx they... didnt really seem friendly (also last time i went near bandits it took me ~15 quick saves to actually live theu it. so.... fuck guns btw). so. all on my own, lol... might do some packed earth in a few places? that needs a wood frame under the dirt, tho. oooo what if i placed one od those every like 5-10 spaces, so my entire wall doesnt go up if it catches on fire? good idea good idea...

on the bright side, i do have a forge and such set up. i dont have an anvil or like... any tools for it but a hammer, but. we're getting there, lol. need to head into town sometime and get a frame from somewhere (probably cutting up another car wreck lol). need to find a hack-saw, would make that a lot easier... no luck finding such a saw thus far tho. hardware store was useless; some fertilizer, some concrete, not much else. push comes to shove maybe i can make one once i get the forge completely ready? still need an anvil and a swage/die set.

((also apparently taking apart a split rail fence gives you 1000 nails? thats... probably a bug.))

i kind of wanna burn that mansion down. gotta make sure its picked clean first, though. not really a *reason* to burn it down, even, hell whoever owned it probably saved my fuck8n life considering my other options i had at the time (none, basically). not to mention the sword i found in it thats prolly saved my life a half-dozen times. but... i still kind of want to burn it down? maybe i can burn eown that bandit camp instead. that DOES sound pretty great. buuuut then theyll probably come kill me. so. maybe ilk just burn down the mansion lmao.

really wish i could find a decent sidearm somewhere. well. i mean i HAVE one, but its chambered in the one pistol ammo i dont have. so im kind of carrying around a flintlock pistol eberywhere i go (what tje fuck was the up with the dude who owned that mansion? some kind of obsession with history or something? thatd explain the stone axr and the clay pots, too... and the swords...)

Oh! also a few days (weeks? idk) ago I killed one of the horses that were on this property. I then... spent a solid 2-3 full days frantically trying to preserve all of its meat before it rotted. I think I got around 2/3s of it, though a lot of that is smoked. So... I’m gonna be eating smoked horse meat for the next, like. 3 weeks, as much as I can. Before all of THAT rots. I think I’ll be able to ma- wait, fuck. There’s like. 20 lb of sausage that’s on the same kind of cloooooock... well. I mean I guess at least I’ll be the only fat survivor? Kind of a shame I can’t keep this good any longer, though. (oo, maybe I should dig a root cellar? I mean, it’s not really “warm” here this kind of year, but like. Root cellars keep things even cooler, I think? Maybe I could do that, idk. I haven’t really looked at a thermometer in a few weeks lol)

#why did this transition to an in-character journal halfway thru #god #cdda #warbling #now with readmore

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andrewuttaro · 6 years

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New Look Sabres: GM 9 - ANA - The Comeback in Anaheim

I don’t attempt the Duck Hunting jokes because for one I’m not a hunter and for two it’s been done to death. It’s a sincerity thing. However this game is the last of the five game western road trip and I feel the need to put a theme on it more than just “smash that win out button” and take a winning record on the road trip that looked real shitty in the middle. Hmm. Halloween is coming at us in a hurry now, it’s a week from Wednesday, and I started dropping the spooky terminology on Saturday with the LA game. After all, Staples Center had been something of a house of horrors for the Buffalo Sabres in recent years. Last night the Sabres went into a place that had also historically been a house of horrors… worse in fact… a house of worse horrors? I don’t know. The Sabres may have a winning record now at Honda Center by two games but the place saw many of their most ghastly, demoralizing defeats in the seasons since 2010. Buffalo had also not won both in LA and Anaheim since 2003. I’ve said a few times recently that past team stats like those rarely matter so maybe the Ducks’ Pacific Division leading 5 wins, 2 losses and one overtime loss going into last night’s matchup is a bit more relevant. Does that ruin my Halloween theme though? I was literally at a Haunted House for the first thirty minutes of this game and it stands to reason the Sabres have gotten better at exorcisms since the days Ryan Miller was traded out of town. Ryan Miller, talk about ghosts and ghouls of dead Sabres seasons past, am I right? Is this my Halloween blog post or something? That all was really just meant to be a joke about the Honda Center but I guess I’ll run with the Halloween theme now. This Sabres game was fixing to be spooky for 30 minutes but what happened in the end was less trick and more treat! Yikes.

The first period was a decent one for the Sabres. They got their chances, even another powerplay opportunity they haven’t been known to capitalize on. They were frustrated in the first ultimately only giving up a goal to some kid with porn name named Sam Steel. Wait, I am being told he’s one of the better young prospects in the league? Well then: what a damn name. He has a career in politics after hockey with a name like that. Anyway, the Sabres were behind to start the second and did not take it sitting down, pouring on the shots and forcing the fight club known as the Anaheim Ducks into some painful blocked shots. It got worse before it got better and Kiefer Sherwood got the better of a breakaway past Mittelstadt and scored a goal from a little ways out you really probably want Carter Hutton to stop. Now we’re sitting staring at the score thinking we can’t buy a goal again. The rule this season has become every Sabres game needs to be a blowout: win or loss. What might break the rule tonight; a Sabres powerplay goal? Sure. SURE IT WILL! Sam Reinhart got the puck to Kyle Okposo in the last twenty seconds of a Ryan Getzlaf penalty and Do-Do birds arose from the grave of extinction and the Sabres Hockey team of Buffalo scored a powerplay goal. Maybe this is a New Look Sabres team after all? Either way no one thought a powerplay goal from Kyle Okposo was going to get us on the board.

Who other than Jeff Skinner capitalized on a two-on-one to tie the game up? Jeff Keep-him-in-Buffalo-please Skinner. Not only was that the Sabres first game-tying goal of this season, it was assisted by Jason Pominville! Yeah, the geezer is on the Skinner-Eichel line now but you don’t expect him to keep up with a guy like Jeff Skinner, nevermind assist on a net-crasher like that. Nonetheless it was a tie game. A two goal lead had been erased and it was Buffalo doing the erasing. That hasn’t happened this season and it wasn’t all that common in recent seasons either actually. That all is worth repeating: Buffalo erased a two goal deficit and tied it up! The Sabres got nearly 40 shots on goal at this point and they weren’t done yet. In the third the Sabres scored on a powerplay when Kyle Okposo fed it to Rasmus Ristolainen nearly at the blue line and the OG Rasmus launched a rocket through the woods behind our even older friend Ryan Miller. Buffalo now had the lead. But they did something with it you may not be familiar with: they DID NOT sit back. They continued to play aggressively and that may have been more refreshing than the comeback itself in this game. Even Zemgus Girgensons got a good shot on goal in this portion of the game! Girgensons v Miller sounds like a skills competition matchup from 2014. The Pacific Division leading Ducks wouldn’t go down without a fight and the last minute or so looked like a real scramble. You might count five to eight Anaheim shots in this stretch depending on how generous you are. Hutton kept moving but one puck was well behind him and heading for the line when one hero dove in with his stick and gave it all to save this Sabres game. That hero was Johan Larsson! I am sorry Ducks fans but if you’re being foiled by Larsson you really got to consider your life choices. With less than 20 seconds left in regulation the visitors got it out of their zone and Patrik Berglund got his first goal as a Sabre into the empty net. That’s what we call an insurance goal. This game, forever to be known as the comeback in Anaheim, ended 4-2 Buffalo wins.

Anaheim has been strong to start this season but if you’re going to put money on one team in this league turning into an absolute train wreck before the New Year it’s probably these guys. I looked at this matchup and thought wouldn’t it be fun if a loss to the Sabres drove the Ducks to question what they have on the same night Paul Kariya gets his jersey retired? I am not going to try to comprehend the advance stat Corsi long enough to try and make a point of it here but the Ducks are in the quadrant of the graph that is fun but bad. Don’t ask where the Sabres are: it’s dull and bad. However, the Sabres displayed a lot of characteristics in this game that we should be encouraged by. They outshot their competition 45 to 28. They once again showed respect for the puck and allowed a miniscule amount of turnovers. The Sabres powerplay has been completely atrocious but if you guessed who didn’t capitalize on any of their PP chances this game you would guess wrong before realizing the Sabres we’re 2 for 4 on the powerplay. That’s a revelation. You don’t win this game without those two powerplay goals. We could also talk about how weirdly enjoyable it is for Ryan Kessler to get punched in the face by Zach Bogosian but I don’t think that is an encouraging stat of any kind.

The Sabres went 3-2 on this road trip. I was hoping for an over .500 record on it and they did not disappoint. There were certainly very concerning moments in Vegas and San Jose, even in the LA game there were moments the Sabres looked like they didn’t know what they were doing; but here we are at 5-4 overall with that scary West Coast Road trip we always fear in the rearview mirror. That’s something to be very happy about. The next game is back home in downtown Buffalo against a Montreal Canadiens team that you really got to beat no matter what their record is. I said Anaheim is the odds on favorite to fall apart this season but Montreal will facilitate their own high speed deconstruction if recent history is any indicator. Their also ranked amongst New Look Sabres’ ten teams you better friggin beat this season. Well that’s all for today folks: share this with your friends and leave a comment of some kind. Are the Sabres scary good or scary bad like my introduction today? Should Jason Pominville always be on the top line? Are the Sabres actually good?

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Keep an eye on the blog, there are a couple fun things in the works between now and the Thursday Habs game.

#buffalo sabres #nhl #hockey #blog

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afy2018 · 6 years

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A New Legend Chapter 1

The wind swept through the air in loud gusts. Dust cloud cluttered the air as grainy fog in the desert. A human trudged alone through the cooler air, a bag strapped across her chest and her face completely covered, goggles over her eyes. Her beige and grey-brown clothes whipped and flapped in the high winds. She stopped and tightened her belt for the fifth time that hour. Her goggles clouded over again, so she wiped them off. This planet was hard to live on, but it was home for her. Her. That was her name now. No real name to her employers at the Tosche Station or Chalmun's Cantina, even Jabba- her main employer- didn’t really know her name anymore. Better for her though. Better for Sara Lance, a descendant of the leader of the Mandalorian Knights, Dorjander Kace.

Sara held her sabre close to her heart, walking to Mos Eisley for work again. She came up to the houses at the outskirts of the town. Maybe she could get some food from Mick and Leo while she had time. They usually spent a lot of time in Mos Eisley, home away from home for them. Sara wiped the sand off of her goggles again as she neared the small manors. She glanced at the house numbers, searching for the correct address before rapping on the wooden door marked 2490. A bald man opened the door, a rag tied around his neck. He smiled and pulled Sara in by the collar.

“Where have you been?” Mick asked.

“Working.” Sara laughed, removing her goggles and mask.

“Luckily we don’t have to clean up after you.” Leo joked from the doorway. “Here for another refill?”

“And to catch up. I’m not that much of a mooch.” She sighed pulling her hair back into a bun again.

“You should really settle down. Find a friend to share while you’re working.” Mick suggested, searching for some older rations that had to go.

“Then I’d have to actually spend my money on food and shelter.”

“See, you really are a mooch,” Leo smirked. “So where are you coming from?”

“Jabba’s Palace.”

“Again?”

“He’s just needing someone to smuggle droid parts onto Tatooine from… Naboo, I think. I’ve just been going from here to his palace for the… fourth time. What have you been doing?”

“The usual. Stealing droids and fixing them before resell. Makes good money.”

“Here.” Mick cut in, holding a bag of food. “Some dewback jerky, hubba bread, and the rest of our womp rat soup -which I would eat first. Here.” He smiled handing the bag to her.

“What would I do without you guys.”

“Get food from someone else,” Leo smirked hugging Sara. “Now go on your way, bother another bounty group.”

“Wait, come on, I haven’t seen you guys in months. How’s it been going with Ray?”

“Great, really. Kind of weird.” Leo began.

“He means that he’s deep in love and doesn’t know how to act,” Mick explained nudging him with his elbow.

“Okay, that’s enough. What about you and that guy. The rich boy?”

“Oliver? Nothing. I don’t see him. I moved on to this other girl, but she’s too busy with her family’s business to have any sort of relationship.”

“We should tell her.” Mick broke in.

“Why did you make it sound so ominous?”

“Tell me what?” Sara asked.

“There’s a large group of people who are getting together in secret trying to overthrow the Empire. You know, the sith. They’ve been coming here to recruit as many people as they can. Apparently, there have been some older kids joining. We’ve been thinking of going as well.”

“I never would’ve thought that you’d be apart of a rebellion.”

“I’m not usually serious, but life is only so long, Sara. We need to do something with it before we die. This is way bigger than us, bigger than everyone. It’s important.” Leo said, crossing his arms and grabbing a medallion from his pocket. He glanced down at it and sighed before looking up at Sara. “Now I know that you may not care, but by next month, Mick, Ray and I will be gone.”

“So this is goodbye?”

“Hopefully not, but maybe.”

Sara nodded and hugged Leo and Mick. “You guys have been like brothers to me. You saved me and brought me here. I’m so glad that I got to meet you two. Thank you.”

“I hope we see each other again, and that this isn’t really goodbye.”

Sara nodded and turned away. “I’ll think about it.”

“If you change your mind, they’re planning to come back by the end of the year.”

“Okay.” Sara nodded. “Well, I’m going to the cantina to get a drink, you wanna join?”

“Of course, but you’re buying.”

“My treat then.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801614/chapters/31731924

The loud music from the group of musicians in the corner livened up the dark room. Aliens of many races drank and talked at the bar, the tables or against the wall. People walked in and out, pushing and stealing from one another as they passed by. It was shady and suspicious, but it was home for these people, she guessed. Maybe hold her belongings a bit closer. That’ll work. Hopefully. A blonde woman walked up to the bar. Her hair tied back in a tight bun, obvious that she didn’t actually belong on Tatooine even though she was wearing a traditional long dress and poncho to protect her skin. She tapped on the the bartender’s shoulder, waiting for him to turn around. He glanced at her, looking her up and down before nodding.

“Tatooine Sunset.”

He grunted in response and filled a glass with the sweet liquor. He slid the drink to her, waiting for her to pay him before letting go of the glass.

“So what’s your name sweetie?” A young rodian asked in his native tongue.

She smirked at the alien and chuckled “Yeah I’m too old for you tyke.”

“Just tell me your name.”

“Ava.”

“Beautiful. I’m Greedo.”

“Well, Greedo, while I’d like to sit and chat, I don’t have a lot of time to… play.” She smiles. “Sorry.”

Greedo cocked his head to the side, turning away to a corner where a few other shady aliens are. Ava watched him talk with his friends. She shook her head with a slight grin and went back to her drink. A hand roughly grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. The alien garbled at her in a foreign language that she couldn’t really understand. Ava turned back to her drink, finishing it in a swift tilt of the glass. A young humanoid alien tapped her on the shoulder.

“He doesn’t like you.” He explained.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized with a scoff.

He clutched her arm, yanking her back into the conversation. “I don’t like you either. Don't insult us.” He hissed tightening his grip on Ava’s arm. “You just watch yourself. We're wanted, men. I have a death sentence in 12 systems.” He bragged.

“I’ll be careful then.” She smirked getting a bit annoyed and turning away.

“You’ll be dead!” He yelled with a vicious grin.

Another human quickly walked between them. She pressed her hand against Ava’s shoulder, pushing her away. “This little one isn't worth the effort. Let me buy you something-”

The alien pushed the human into Ava, pulling out his blaster. Ava reached for the lightsaber at her hip. The blonde looked at her and put her hand over the weapon.

“You can’t use that here.” She whispered.

“No blasters! No blasters!” The bartender exclaimed.

The two aggressive aliens turned away and walked out of the bar. Ava turned to the blonde and smiled.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing. You’re not the only tourist I’ve had to save.”

“Why can’t I use my sabre here?”

“Tatooinians don’t really like… us. In fact, most people don’t trust us or anyone who wields a lightsaber. You have to be very careful.” She explained in a hushed tone. “So obviously you’re not from here. Where are you from?”

“Nowhere you know.”

“Try me.”

“Is it usual here, bar fights?” Ava asked switching subjects.

“Of course. You’re most definitely not from here. Tatooine is a very shady place, but it’s home. People are always fighting. I’d be suspicious if an hour went by without a fight. ” Sara smiled. “Well, hey, if you’re not too busy, my friends and I are having a quick drink. Wanna join?”

“... Why not.” Ava nodded.

“Great.” Sara smiled, sliding back over to her friends. “This is Leo and Mick, and I’m Sara.”

“Hi, Ava.” She greeted them.

Leo smiled and drank from his tall glass, leaning against the bar. “So what brings you to Tatooine? Obviously not the weather or people.”

“Just a new adventure.”

“Well, you must live on the wild side then if this feels like an adventure and not just a death sentence.”

“Don’t mind his sarcasm, here, have this.” Sara offered, sliding her drink to Ava.

“What is it?”

“Bantha Blaster” She smiled.

“What does it taste like?”

“Very sweet and fizzy,” Leo explained. “They drink it all the time.”

“I swear by it.” Sara grinned, leaning towards Ava as she ordered another drink.

Ava sniffed the drink; Endor, she thought, it reminded her of Endor. She inhaled and took a swig from the pink and green liquor. The bubbly concoction fizzed and popped on her tongue before a very sweet sugary sensation coated her taste buds. It burned at first, but then warmed her throat and became tart at the end. Ava coughed at first, and chuckled, shaking her head.

“A little strong?” Sara asked.

“Yeah, but good. A very fun drink, though.” Ava smiled, covering her mouth.

“So you’re from this area?”

“Not really. I’ve spent the past 6 years here but I’m originally from a different planet.”

Leo leant over to Sara, whispering to her. “You know, it’s great to see you head over heels. I haven’t seen you reveal this much since we all met.”

“What are you talking about?”

He pulled away, turning to Mick. “I think we should go back home. We need to get packed before our trip.”

“Leo,” Sara asked being ignored.

“I know, but we have to, see you around little canary.” He sighed walking out of the cantina.

“Mick!”

“Sorry, gotta go.”

Sara huffed as she watched her friends leave, shaking her head and drinking the bantha brew. Ava also finished her drink and cleared her throat.

“Well, I’m glad that we had this time to talk. Sorry for driving your friends away-”

“Huh? Don’t worry about them, Leo’s just weird like that. You know, I can always show you around Mos Eisley if you have time.”

“Yeah. Why not.”

Hours seemed to pass as minutes to Ava. She’d never met anyone like his woman. Maybe there was something about her, the mysterious way that she knew everyone and yet they never really knew her name. Sara wasn’t offended about that, only laughed and would say, “Yeah, Her.” like some kind of mononym. The midday suns lowered to the evening. She felt the end of this journey with her new companion nearing. Ava sat on the edge of a short wall dividing a long road, secluded from the main streets. The few people who did pass by seemed focused on other things, focused on surviving or thriving in this city. The suns were finally setting, cooling the air again as it had in the morning. Sara watched the citizens pass by.

“You know, I really don’t know much about you, Sara.” She admitted.

Sara sat down next to Ava, shrugging and looked her in the eye. “No need to. We don’t need to know everything to be close. Just enough to understand one another.”

Ava smirked and placed her hand on the stones between them. There was a part of her that didn’t really know what she was doing, but a larger part was really just looking for anyone to help her, or at least be with her so she wasn’t alone. Anyone, so she wasn’t alone. Sara turned to her and pursed her lips. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head before she eventually fell to the ground. Ava rushed down to her before feeling electricity stun her. Her body tensed as she dropped to the sandy ground. A pair of feet approached her before reaching down and pulling her up by the collar. A pair of pink eyes glared at her. Their smile revealed sharp teeth behind thin lips. It sighed and whispered something to someone behind them.

#Avalance #ava sharpe #sara lance #fanfiction #fanfic #avalance fanfic #legends of tomorrow #Legends of tomorrow fanfic

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ibijau · 2 years

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Futures Past pt23 / On AO3

Lan Xichen rushes to the rescue, and has an unfortunate realisation

It was quite startling for Lan Xichen to find Meng Yao on his doorstep so late at night, looking conflicted and a little scared. It brought to mind another occasion, far in the future, when a man then known as Jin Guangyao would have come to return a jade token after being publicly accused of having murdered Nie Mingjue. He’d looked so unsure then, and the man who Lan Xichen would have become would have wished to trust him again, until it became too clear that the person he’d called his friend had truly lied all those years.

But those were events which would not come to pass. Meng Yao would likely never bear another last name, and he certainly would not be allowed to kill Nie Mingjue. So Lan Xichen pushed away those memories of a man who wasn’t quite himself, and forced his mind to focus on the present.

“Meng gongzi, I was not expecting you. May I help you?”

“Lan gongzi, I think… no, I’m quite sure that Wei gongzi and Jiang gongzi have done something they shouldn’t,” Meng Yao said in a soft, helpless voice. “I know I should have gone to a teacher about it, but you’re friends with Jiang gongzi and I was hoping maybe you could help solve this discreetly? I would be in your debt if you could. Madam Yu ordered me to keep her son out of trouble, but it can be so hard...”

“I would not like to be in your position,” Lan Xichen agreed. “Very well then, let’s hear what they’ve done.”

“It seems they’ve gone to Caiyi Town, about those water ghouls they have over there.”

“They’ve gone there?” Lan Xichen gasped, so shaken he had to lean against the door. “Alone?”

“Oh, no, not quite alone!” Meng Yao quickly replied, twisting his hands in distress. “Of course I couldn’t disturb Lan gongzi until I was certain of the situation, so I checked a little. It appears Nie gongzi is with them.”

Cold seeped through Lan Xichen's body, freezing him to his heart.

“Huaisang went too?” He asked. “But he’s… he doesn’t even like Night Hunting! And he’s… his core... he's not… are you sure?”

“The other Nie disciples said his sabre wasn’t there,” Meng Yao remarked. “He barely even takes it for sword lessons, and he too hasn’t been seen with lunch. It’s too big of a coincidence. He’ll be fine, though! It is only some water ghouls, and I assure you that Wei gongzi and Jiang gongzi have a lot of experience with those.”

“It’s not water ghouls,” Lan Xichen mumbled, fighting for breath.

He refused to let panic seize him, not at such a time, when every moment counted. But the thought of Nie Huaisang in such danger, of failing to protect everyone from the creature in that lake even in this life, when he knew what hid under the water...

“There’s… there’s something in that lake,” Lan Xichen managed to say. “Waterborne Abyss. It’s… even an immortal would struggle. We have to… Meng gongzi, can you find my brother? I’ll… I’ll warn some elders, but…”

“Ah, about that,” Meng Yao said, looking quite worried for Lan Xichen, but too polite to say anything when there was no closeness between them. “While I was looking for my friends, one Lan disciple told me that he thought he’d seen them at the gate a little earlier, in company of your brother and that boy Nie Huaisang is always hanging out with.”

Lan Xichen had never wanted to curse so badly in his life.

He was going to kill those five idiots, supposing the Waterborne Abyss didn't get them first.

It was almost dawn when Lan Xichen and a few experienced Lan cultivators he had convinced to accompany him took flight toward Caiyi Town. That meant they’d be well over half a day behind Wei Wuxian’s group. Part of that delay was to blame on the boys themselves, who had guessed that Meng Yao might betray them once he realised they were gone, and had made sure to leave while he was otherwise occupied. But Meng Yao himself had made things worse by waiting a few shichen before warning Lan Xichen of what had happened.

Ostensibly that was because he hadn’t wanted to raise the alarm for nothing, when Wei Wuxian and his friends were known to disappear into the Back Hills or head out to Gusu sometimes. Lan Xichen might have taken him at his word, had he not known what sort of things Meng Yao was, or would be, capable of. So as he flew toward Caiyi Town, he could only think that by doing things that way, Meng Yao could pass for a serious and dutiful young man to the adults’ eyes, while also ensuring his friends would get to have their Night Hunt, and he could obtain their gratitude for protecting their fun.

Or perhaps Lan Xichen was just unfair and too suspicious of Meng Yao, when in that other future he’d never been suspicious enough.

By the time they reached Caiyi Town mid-morning, it was to learn that the five boys had rented some boats and already gone out on the lake. After a brief discussion, Lan Xichen's group decided they wouldn't rent boats, and instead would directly fly over the lake to find those boys and take them home.

There was no time to waste, not with this level of danger. The others agreed with his sense of urgency, since he'd shared with them his 'suspicions' concerning a waterborne abyss while they were flying.

While Biling Lake was vast, it ended up being fairly easy to follow the trace of those five boys. First, because Lan Xichen could see history repeating itself once again, and remembered the general zone where they had been attacked in that other life. Secondly because after a while, some distant cries were heard, and the loudest of all voices was unmistakably Nie Huaisang’s. Fearing they might be too late, Lan Xichen and the others sped up until they finally saw the boats.

Out of the four boats the boys had rented in town, only three remained. While Jiang Cheng was alone on his, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were sharing a second one, and Su She and Nie Huaisang were on the last one. It was too easy to guess what had become of the fourth boat, because it was happening to Nie Huaisang’s boat too.

A hord of water ghouls had started attacking all the boats, forcing the five boys to fight fiercely, but it was Nie Huaisang and Su She’s boat that was under the most pressing attack, perhaps because the ghouls sensed that those two were the weakest of the group. Under the sheer number of ghouls, the boat, which had drifted away from the other two, was starting to capsize.

Su She was doing his best to keep the water ghouls at bay but appeared to be getting tired, and the other three were so busy protecting their own boats that it was impossible to go rescue their friends. And while Su She could at least fight, Nie Huaisang was just screaming and panicking, doing little more than to kick and flail whenever a ghoul tried to grab him.

A heavier ghoul trying to climb on board jolted the boat more violently, and Nie Huaisang lost balance. He managed, just barely, to avoid falling into the water, but a water ghoul took this chance sink its claws into his ankle.

Nie Huaisang screamed, before being pulled underwater.

The sudden movement shook the boat again, more violently this time, and Su She briefly fell to his knees. He quickly got back on his feet, shouting Nie Huaisang’s name and prepared to jump after him.

Lan Xichen beat him to it, plunging into the water with his sword in hand. The icy cold almost stole his breath away, and immediately undead hands started trying to grasp him, before retreating under the power of Shuoyue. Below him, Nie Huaisang was being dragged down into dark waters, fighting as hard as he could but powerless against the might of the waterborne abyss.

He extended one hand toward Lan Xichen who desperately tried to grab it. Once, twice, he missed it, the surrounding darkness pulling Nie Huaisang out of his reach. On the third attempt, as he was about to run out of air, Lan Xichen finally managed to seize Nie Huaisang’s wrist and immediately started pulling him toward the surface.

Grabbing Nie Huaisang had been only the first step. The waterborne abyss did not want to let go of its victim. Lan Xichen had to focus his power into Shuoyue to help them escape the water, and even like this they might both have drowned if not for Bichen and Suibian coming to the rescue, flying underwater and harassing the water ghouls so they couldn't touch their preys. Attacked this way, the darkness finally relented, giving Lan Xichen a chance to escape the water and fly up, clutching Nie Huaisang against his heart.

It came as no surprise to see that the boat on which Nie Huaisang and Su She had been standing was almost completely submerged, with Su She having joined Jiang Cheng. Still holding tightly to Nie Huaisang who was only half conscious, Lan Xichen ordered everyone to abandon the boats and return to shore. All four boys jumped on their swords and flew up, watching the remaining boats quickly disappear under the water as well.

They were all silent as they flew back toward Caiyi Town, for which Lan Xichen was glad. He wasn't sure he could have handled a conversation at that time. Earlier, in the heat of the moment, he had barely realised what was happening when Nie Huaisang had disappeared under the water. Now though, it was starting to hit him that the boy currently in his arms had almost died before his eyes.

It would have been awful to have lost anyone to that monstrous lake of course. But to lose Nie Huaisang in particular would have been unbearable. If Lan Xichen had been less exhausted, or less shocked, he might have told himself such a loss would have been so tragic only because Nie Huaisang was his dearest friend's brother, because he was also Lan Xichen's friend, because it might have created a diplomatic incident between Qinghe Nie, Gusu Lan, and Yunmeng Jiang, just when it was more necessary than ever that they stay united.

All those things would have been true, obviously. But the real reason why Lan Xichen couldn't have withstood it if Nie Huaisang had died was simply because he loved him.

It was not something he would have expected, considering the opinion he used to have of Nie Huaisang before dreaming of the future, or his memories of the cold and cruel man Nie Huaisang would have become in that future. But Lan Xichen had learned how wrong his old opinions had been, and Nie Huaisang was certainly neither cold nor cruel at the moment, except quite accidentally. He was cheerful, funny, and surprisingly clever when something interested him, and it was only a shame that he most likely didn't feel the same way Lan Xichen felt.

Just as he was glad that nobody was speaking, Lan Xichen was also grateful the current situation gave him something to focus on that wasn't his probably unrequited feelings. He forced himself to fly his sword as fast as it would go, while checking that nobody in the group was falling behind, and also sparing some spiritual energy to share with Nie Huaisang who was trembling so much in his arms.

At last, they arrived in the small town again. Lan Xichen immediately dispatched someone to find an inn for all of them, making it clear money was not to be an issue. When one Lan disciple had left for that purpose, Lan Xichen turned his attention to the four contrite teenagers in front of him, while in his arms Nie Huaisang was spared his anger.

“I cannot believe you’d be so reckless,” Lan Xichen scolded them. “Did none of you stop to wonder why I wanted this matter to be treated with such caution?”

The boys all looked guilty and exchanged glances, their shoulders hunched. Even Lan Wangji's posture wasn't quite as perfect as usual.

“We thought you were not used to dealing with water ghouls,” Wei Wuxian confessed. “From what everyone said about that case, it seemed like a very small problem. How did you guess it was something so dangerous? Because that… that was a waterborne abyss, right? How did you…”

“That’s for me to know,” Lan Xichen replied. “Wei gongzi would do well to accept that people can give him orders because they have good reasons for it, and not just because they want to ruin his fun, as he seems to believe. You were lucky that I was warned in time.”

“But it makes no sense for that Waterborne Abyss to be there,” Wei Wuxian argued. “There haven’t been that many deaths in the region, and when we asked, most of the corpses found weren’t local people anyway. We couldn’t expect for something like that to have appeared here. Unless… Unless it didn’t appear here?”

Without meaning to, Lan Xichen turned his gaze up to the sky, toward the setting sun. Wei Wuxian followed his eyes, and frowned.

“Oh, I see.”

“I’m very glad you’re taking this as a chance to prove how very clever you can be,” Lan Xichen said. “I’d advise that you keep your conclusion to yourself, since nothing can be proven.”

“But I was right to think that this would be safe,” Wei Wuxian insisted. "There was no clue to say that sect might have pushed a waterborne abyss out of their domain."

“And you were wrong to organise this without at least asking me why I wanted to take precautions. You were all wrong, and I’m disappointed in all of you. I would have taken you five to be among the smartest people of our age, but it appears I was mistaken. You’re no better than children who throw a tantrum because they’re not allowed to touch a flame. There will be consequences for this. I particularly expected better from you, Wangji, and I know shufu too will be sad to hear about this.”

Having lived his entire life trying to be a good and dutiful disciple, Lan Wangji looked mortified to be scolded that way. As he should be. If he hadn’t been led astray by Wei Wuxian… it had been a mistake to allow Nie Huaisang to play the matchmaker.

“Wait, Lan gongzi, please don’t be too harsh on your brother,” Wei Wuxian pleaded, bowing down. “The truth is, he really wanted to check with you before coming here! But I knew you would probably forbid us to have that Night Hunt, so I made him think that Meng Yao would warn you. It’s really my fault, don’t blame him for something he didn’t do.”

"Is that so."

Wei Wuxian hesitated for only a moment. He glanced at Lan Wangji, then nodded firmly.

"Lan gongzi, this was all my fault. I pushed the others to come here. I'm the only one who should be punished."

"I carry equal blame," Lan Wangji immediately objected, coming to stand next to Wei Wuxian. "Wei Ying does not know xiongzhang's character and skill. Knowing both, I had no excuse. Whatever punishment Wei Ying receives, mine should be the same."

Wei Wuxian gasped softly at that declaration, looking equal part touched and irritated that Lan Wangji would ruin his noble sacrifice.

For his part, Lan Xichen was solely irritated. He should have been proud of his brother perhaps, for refusing to let another carry the blame, for acknowledging his failings. On any other topic, Lan Xichen would have been proud.

All he could see right then was that Lan Wangji was already on the path that had nearly broken him in a different life. Lan Xichen remembered the festering flesh on his brother's back after thirty-three lashes of the discipline whips, the weeks-long fever that almost killed him more than once, the scar burned onto his chest, and how his spirit remained shattered long after his body had mended.

Lan Wangji had always held it as a point of pride that he did not regret the choices that had led him there.

Lan Xichen had regretted them on his behalf, in that future that wouldn't be. And now, in the present, he wished he'd known how to separate his brother from the boy who caused him such pain.

"Gege, I'm cold," a small voice sniffled against his chest.

Those were the first words Nie Huaisang had said since being rescued, and as so often happened with him, they struck right into Lan Xichen’s heart. Being angry was no excuse for forgetting his duty. Of course Nie Huaisang would be cold, he was drenched and bleeding, and Lan Xichen had been so busy arguing that he hadn’t thought to worry about his friend. Eager to correct that mistake, Lan Xichen quickly removed his outer robe and wrapped it around Nie Huaisang, gently rubbing his arms and shoulders in an effort to warm him up.

“Lan Xingyu will soon have found us a place to rest,” Lan Xichen said in a soft voice. “Just hold on a little longer, Huaisang. How is your leg? Does it hurt much?”

Still sniffling, Nie Huaisang shook his head and tried to pull away from Lan Xichen to prove that he was fine. All that accomplished was to make him grimace in pain and stumble back into the older boy’s arms as soon as he put any weight on his injured leg.

“Lan gongzi, I can help him if you want,” Su She offered, looking truly worried for his friend. “I don’t mind carrying him at all.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lan Xichen retorted, even though he knew he should have accepted.

It was selfish of him to want to keep Nie Huaisang close like that, and out of the whole lot, Su She was surprisingly the person with whom Lan Xichen was the least angry at the moment, since he'd probably only come to please Nie Huaisang, and wouldn't have been listened to if he'd objected to anything. He should have let Su She know that he hadn’t fallen in disgrace by entrusting Nie Huaisang to him.

He should have.

He would have, if the thought of letting go of Nie Huaisang weren’t so unbearable at that moment.

Lan Xingyu returned soon after, having secured rooms for them and arranged for meals as well. Since the inn was a little distance away, Lan Xichen picked up Nie Huaisang in his arms to walk there. The younger boy mildly protested, but was too tired to really fight it.

Once they reached the inn, Lan Xichen ordered everyone to check themselves for any wounds they might not have noticed before. Anyone who was harmed was to take time to heal themselves, or get help for it, and then they were to eat and get some sleep before they all returned to the Cloud Recesses.

For his part, Lan Xichen promptly took Nie Huaisang to one of the rooms and put him down on the bed there. Nie Huaisang was weakened enough that even sitting up seemed to cause him some trouble, which wasn’t surprising when there were some deep claw marks on his left leg, and he was still bleeding. Without pausing to think, Lan Xichen knelt down before the bed and pushed up his friend’s clothes to inspect the wound.

There was nothing that looked like it might get infected, and luckily no major blood vessel appeared to have been hit. Lan Xichen gave Nie Huaisang a pill to help with both pain and healing, which the other boy swallowed with some difficulty. To help it take effect faster, Lan Xichen then started sharing what spiritual energy he still had left after that harrowing night. Soon enough Nie Huaisang stopped bleeding, and even started warming up a little, though he still clutched Lan Xichen’s robes tight around him.

Now that the situation felt less urgent, Lan Xichen considered the fact that Nie Huaisang’s clothes were drenched with water, forcing him to use energy to keep warm that should instead have gone to healing his leg. Had it been another person, Lan Xichen would have ordered them to undress immediately, as there was no place for shame in such a situation. But because it was Nie Huaisang, he felt rather shy about giving such an order. After his earlier realisation, he feared it would have been too much like taking advantage.

“Really Huaisang, how unreasonable of you,” he said instead. “Look at you… are you cold still?”

Nie Huaisang sniffled and nodded dejectedly.

“Well, your clothes are very wet,” Lan Xichen remarked, hoping that would be enough of a hint.

It was. In spite of his dislike for Night Hunting, Nie Huaisang had been trained for them by his brother, and Nie Mingjue was quite serious about these things. So Nie Huaisang undressed with slow movements, dropping his wet clothes around his feet while Lan Xichen, still kneeling in front of him, stared at the floorboard and wondered how inappropriate it would be to offer help, now that he’d realised how he felt. It made him wish he hadn’t had that realisation, so he could be more useful to Nie Huaisang.

Even alone and trembling, Nie Huaisang eventually managed to undress almost entirely, only keeping on his innermost clothes for propriety and then wrapping himself inside the blanket that was on the bed. His face regained some colour at last, though his expression remained quite pitiful.

“There, that’s better,” Lan Xichen said, redirecting his attention to Nie Huaisang’s leg. “I really don’t understand why you came here, but you were lucky that it wasn’t worse than this. Next time, don’t join Night Hunts just because your friends force you to. It’s good to know your limits.”

A strangled sound escaped Nie Huaisang’s lips, who started trembling again. When Lan Xichen looked up, his friend was crying heavy tears and trying to muffle himself by pressing his mouth into the blanket.

“Huaisang, I’m not scolding you!” Lan Xichen quickly said. “I know this can’t have been your idea, and it would have been difficult to refuse if your friends were determined to come here. I’m not angry, I know you didn’t…”

“I wanted to!” Nie Huaisang sobbed. “I wanted, I thought it’d be fun, I thought it’d be easy! Everyone knows water ghouls aren’t hard, but I’m, I’m s-so bad at everything! Even M-Meng Yao can d-destroy water g-ghouls, they said! And I-I t-thought you’d be impressed with me if I did this, but now you’ll just start looking d-down on me.”

“I could never look down on you,” Lan Xichen protested, more earnestly than was wise. “You’re very dear to me, what happened today doesn’t change that.”

Nie Huaisang only sobbed harder, bringing the blanket tighter around him, as if it might shield him from the world.

“But I’m useless!” he cried out. “I’m barely a cultivator at all! I don’t have a golden core yet! I can’t fly long on my sabre! I can’t fight! I don’t know about any creatures or how to defeat them! I can’t even learn Qin language, I’m useless, I’m so useless and everyone is going to leave me behind, they’re all going to realise I’ll never get better and they’ll all leave me. I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life!”

Shocked by that outburst, Lan Xichen put his hand on Nie Huaisang’s shoulders, hoping to comfort him.

“I won’t let you end up alone,” he promised, thinking of the man Nie Huaisang would have become in that unbearable future because there was no one on his side, but also of the boy he was now, who did not deserve to feel so miserable. “You don’t have to be the best of cultivators. Your golden core will form when it forms, and even if it doesn’t, that doesn’t change your worth.”

Nie Huaisang huffed and looked away, a few more tears escaping him. There was a grimace on his lips that Lan Xichen didn’t like. He’d noticed before that Nie Huaisang had a bad opinion of himself, and it had bothered him every time it came up, but he found it upsetting that such an incident might make it worse when success could never have been an option.

“Huaisang, look at me,” he ordered.

Stubborn as any Nie could be, Nie Huaisang instead turned his head to the side. Lan Xichen sighed, and let go of his friend’s shoulders to instead put his hands on Nie Huaisang’s cheeks and force him to look his way. Startled by the gesture, Nie Huaisang offered no resistance and stared at Lan Xichen with frightened eyes.

“Huaisang, you were not well enough earlier to understand what we were saying,” Lan Xichen said, “but this Night Hunt was not a simple one at all. Water ghouls are not that easy, they’re very cunning, and can be very dangerous to someone not used to dealing with them. And this wasn’t just water ghouls, it was a waterborne abyss, and that’s a very dangerous being. All of the strongest cultivators currently alive could come together and still struggle against one, especially one that has established itself in such a large body of water. Even your brother would not find this easy.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened at that last statement. He finally appeared to calm down a little, though a few more tears still escaped him. Without thinking, Lan Xichen brushed them away with his thumb before he resumed speaking.

“Even if this had been an easy Night Hunt though, it wouldn’t matter,” he said. “Your friends like you as you are. They know what sort of a person you are after all. You’ve never pretended to be a great cultivator, and we don’t mind. You are dear to us for other reasons, and so you don’t have to act against your nature to please us. Su She certainly seems to appreciate you as you truly are, and I don’t think he’s going to abandon you just because you cannot fight as well as others do. I won’t abandon you either. You’re my friend, my very dear friend, who makes me laugh, and doesn’t hesitate to scold me when I act wrong. Do you have any idea how much I care about you?”

Nie Huaisang’s cheeks now felt burning under Lan Xichen’s palms, perhaps because his face was now so red. He was warming up at last, the medicine had to take effect. Or it might have been more than the medicine, Lan Xichen thought, brushing away a last lone tear. Nie Huaisang was staring at him with an intense expression that might have been fear or hope, his lips slightly parted.

Lan Xichen wondered what it would feel like to kiss those lips.

The moment was wrong for it. He knew that. Nie Huaisang had almost died and was still unwell, while Lan Xichen’s own emotions ran high and clouded his judgement. It would be a terrible idea to act on what he’d only just realised, and yet Lan Xichen realised he was leaning toward Nie Huaisang’s face. For a moment Nie Huaisang did the same, closing briefly his eyes and letting out a shaky exhale that Lan Xichen felt against his lips, their faces now so close that it would have been easy to kiss. But just as Lan Xichen was about to take what seemed to be offered, Nie Huaisang’s eyes opened again. He quickly pushed away the hands on his cheeks and hurried to his feet, clutching his blanket around him.

“Xichen-gege, I’m so hungry,” he mumbled. “I… Thanks for the medicine, and for your kind words. I’ll go eat now. I’ll see you later.”

Startled by that sudden change, Lan Xichen could only nod at first. Then, seeing Nie Huaisang hobble toward the door, he remembered his duty.

“Huaisang, do you want me to carry you there?” he offered.

That offer startled Nie Huaisang so badly that he stumbled and nearly lost balance.

“That won’t be necessary!” he cried out, shaking his head. “I’m fine. I’ll see you later!”

Before any more help could be offered, Nie Huaisang escaped the room with surprising speed for someone limping so badly. A little stunned by what happened, Lan Xichen stared at the door, unsure how to feel about this, fearing he had crossed a boundary and ruined things. He took a moment to collect himself, then left the room as well, hoping to apologise to Nie Huaisang for making him uncomfortable.

In the main room of the inn, the rest of their group was eating. It did not escape Lan Xichen’s notice that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were sitting next to each other and both appeared content with that arrangement, something that would not have been possible at that point in time in the other future he remembered.

Lan Wangji looked happy enough, considering the circumstances, and his apparent good mood only disappeared when he noticed his brother and remembered that his behaviour in this whole affair had been judged unwise. Lan Xichen wanted to still be upset about his brother’s romance, but perhaps it was just unavoidable that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji should be drawn to each other. He’d have to make his peace with it, and do everything in his power to ensure these two could be happy without first going through tragedy.

Lan Xichen’s attention did not remain long on his brother, his eyes searching for Nie Huaisang, whom he found limping toward one of the other rooms. Without thinking, Lan Xichen walked toward that door as well, only to hear Su She’s voice coming from inside.

"I don't know why you're not going to Lan gongzi for that," Su She was complaining. "He's better at healing than me, and he looked worried about you. I think he’d be happy to take care of you."

A moment of silence. And then…

"No, I don't want it to be him," Nie Huaisang said in a very firm voice, which then turned teasing. "I want it to be you. Please take good care of me, Su-xiong? This humble one places his worthless life in your capable hands."

Su She must have answered something, which in turn made Nie Huaisang laugh weakly, but Lan Xichen was no longer listening. He left quickly to check on everyone else, swallowing his bitterness.

At least now, there could be no more doubt regarding Nie Huaisang’s affections. All he could hope, then, was that his own feelings had gone unnoticed, and that their friendship wouldn’t be ruined.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #welcome to 'that chapter were I legit considered abandoning the fic because it was too hard to write'#that rescue scene took me a few weeks and yet it's actually so short lol orz #double time travel

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transientbiologists · 5 years

Text

the starting point

Traveling, age 17; 2010

I was a highly individualistic teenager. I hated other people trying to explain to me who I was. You know what I mean? People telling you, ‘oh, you’ve got a dream, but it’ll never happen’. Nothing pissed me off more than people that hardly knew me trying to impose limits or restrictions on my life. Who could know what I was capable besides myself? How dare they? Despite being shy and frequently anxious, I was also deeply confident in my own capabilities and my own vision. No one could shake me from it.

The only problem was that when I was 16, 17 years old - I wasn’t sure what my vision was - only that I knew who I was and I knew who I wanted to be.

People would ask me what I wanted to study. I could only answer three things - 1.) I did not want to be stuck in one place for the rest of my life, let alone spend another whole year cooped up in my hometown. Which - though it’s now becoming an indie music enclave - was boring when I was a teenager.

2.) I would not settle for a domestic life. I didn’t want to be a homemaker or wife. I even cringed at the idea of a stable office job. The idea of commitment terrified me to the point it made my skin crawl. Props to all of you that married or started serious careers in your early 20s and stuck with’em. At 26, I am more hospitable to the notion of commitment - but still am terrified of being trapped or stuck - while still wanting authority and security within my career. Walking contradiction.

3.) If pushed, when people asked me what I wanted to be, I’d reply, “Indiana Jones.” I mean, his life seemed pretty cool. College professor by day, professional adventurer by night.

At the time, I also thought I was bad at science. If you were to tell me ten years ago that I’d get a Master’s degree in environmental science with a focus on wildlife disease, I guarantee I wouldn’t believe it. But maybe I’d smile a little. I think I’d be pretty damn proud to know who I’ve become

But I knew I wanted to leave. I knew I couldn’t truly be myself in my home environment, as loving and encouraging as my family is. It irked me when teachers tried to encourage me otherwise.

I remember my 9th grade math teacher wandering around the classroom and guessing where everyone would be in 10 years.

“Amanda,” she said approaching me, “You’re a Buffalo gal.”

I paled. Yeah, I wore Sabres paraphernalia a lot. But I was angry. “That’s not me at all,” I told her, unable to express just why it irritated me so much. I saw myself as someone that would see the world - not just another Sabres fan with a snow shovel.

I still remember the way she said it, the way she looked at me. She didn’t mean any harm in it, but I felt so suddenly volatile and angry - I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was pissed the rest of the day.

As a senior in 2010, I recounted my experience to my theatre teacher in her new library office. “I want to leave,” I told her desperately as she encouraged me to pursue local schools. I felt like a chained up dog. I needed to get away. I got into two schools out of the area - NYU, and New Paltz. I was torn up. NYU! NYU. How could I have gotten into NYU?

They didn’t offer any award. I couldn’t afford to go. I was angry and frustrated. I felt like my entire adolescence had been sacrificed to caring for others at this point and I was itching to be selfish, desperate to claim something for myself. But I couldn’t have my dream school. I had betrayed myself, and the people that teased me for having such "wild” dreams earned a point in me sacrificing one of my goals.

My second choice was a State University in a small Hudson Valley town. Even that seemed better than attending college with a group of people I felt didn’t believe in me.

“So leave,” she said. “But have you ever heard what they say?” she spoke with a sort of mysterious quality. “Buffalo is temptress that keeps calling you back.”

This teacher’s premonition didn’t inspire anger. She knew me better than some of my closest friends. I had a short fuse, though; I hated being controlled or being bossed around. I wanted to lash out, but couldn’t. Even so, her words felt more ethereal.

She was right about running away to a school without understanding what my career path would be.

I think it’s madness to even be encouraged to decide on a career path at 17 or 18 years old.

I still graduated university on time, so I didn’t exactly throw away money. But I did spend a year hundreds of miles away from home without gaining any experience in my chosen field.

I don’t regret it. I took courses that helped shape my worldview. I studied international relations, Swahili, creative writing, theatre, music, and anthropology. I leaned toward technical theatre and anthropology.

My peers were unique and creative, typically drawn to my first university for their arts programs. We were an hour or so out of New York City and I thought I’d somehow have the time and money to take my guitar to New York City and busque in Washington Square Park.

Many of them were also wealthier, and I felt put on the spot for other reasons. I exaggerated the number of times I’d been to Poland, saying I’d gone every year rather than the mere four times I’d been by 18. I wanted them to think I was cool, but I was a late bloomer and often though I still looked like a little kid. I felt isolated and fake.

I did make some good friends while I was there. I lived on the edge. I indulged in party culture and spent late nights playing guitar. I found that I couldn’t devote myself to technical theatre the way I thought I would.

Most importantly, I found my passion there. The BP oil spill happened around my 18th birthday and it was something that stuck with me as I started college. I wrote all of my essays about the animals that were impacted, the way that man drained natural resources. I wrote foreboding short stories about ghosts. I wrote article after article about the environment.

“Amanda,” said my English professor, handing me back a paper I’d written. “Have you ever considered going into environmental science?”

I shrugged. “No. I was terrible at science in high school.”

“Maybe you should give it a try,” she suggested. “Seems like you’re interested. Maybe you’d be good at it if it were more hands-on.”

I listened. That school didn’t seem to have a generic environmental science program, so I transferred back home - to a local private school that matched my SUNY scholarship. That’s where I picked up my studies in animal behavior and ecology. That’s the school that took me to Yellowstone, the school where I found an opportunity to study abroad.

I learned, quietly, that I could study what I was interested in and travel without being wed to my hometown.

One caveat - I wish I would’ve stuck with public school all the way.

But that’s a story for another day.

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formyummah · 7 years

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Assalam alaykum sister. I'm in a difficult situation right now which regards my faith and marriage. My husband converted to islam so we can get married. He has been willing to learn a few stuff about islam but he still needs to learn how to pray, (bc of work its hard for him to find time to learn) he started to fast with me during ramadan however he recently found out i have to be out of town for a long time and he's been upset about it and bc of it he says he doesnt want to fast.

(Pt 2) its a very difficult situation bc the reason why i have to leave for so long is because in my culture we have to have a cultural wedding before the girl leaves the parents house (we only had a nikkah) so my parents dont want other people to know im already living with him (we wanted to after nikkah) people in our culture easily spread rumors and gossip so in order to prevent this i have to be with my parents for a while. But husband is upset and doesnt want to fast anymore. Im scared bc i know that ramadan is a pillar in islam and if he refuses to fast i’ve heard that he might even be considered a kaffir. Im really scared for him and i dont know what to do. He’s sometimes stubborn and he lets his emotions take over which demotivates him. I pray that allah will guide him back to the right path. Please any advice will be useful sister. And please make dua for me. May allah bless you

———————————-Walaikom assalam wa rahmahtullahi wa barakatuhu sis ♥️

Wow you are going through so much, I ask Allah ﷻ to make it easy for you and protect you.

First I guess I advise you to stay consistent in your dua to Allah ﷻ for all things good and for guidance for both you and your husband.

I’m no relationship expert, so please forgive me for anything I say that is wrong or naive.

I suggest you try your best to explain the situation as clearly as you can to your husband in a patient way & at the same time provide empathy and understanding for why he is angry. I know that is not easy at all. It’s a cultural difference, and a huge adjustment. You’re both adjusting to a lot. So for him I can understand that he may feel as though it’s unfair you’re not living with him since you are married Islamically. However, he should also be considerate to your cultural background and your family.

It’s also possible your husband needs more encouragement to learn about Islam and implement it in his life. So maybe send him some of your favorite Quran ayah & teach him salah when you spend time together, make dua together, etc. Make it easy to learn about Islam by sending 5 minute lectures on YouTube or taking him to khutbahs or sending short ayahs. It is so important he is close to Allah ﷻ and his deen & I ask Allah ﷻ to make it easy for you to be a successful teacher of the deen for your husband.

You can’t force your husband to fast and if he won’t right now because he’s angry that’s really upsetting. I’m not sure the extend of your relationship, but since you told me you have lived with him I’m not going to advise or comment about anything other than trying to make the relationship strong. I truly believe that being close to Allah ﷻ and pleasing Allah ﷻ is the only way to do so.

I’m not sure how helpful this was but I really don’t know what else you should do other than have sabr (patience), faith and trust in Allah ﷻ, and try your best to show your husband Islam and teach him it, as well as make a ton of dua & improve your deen as well as best as you can.

May Allah ﷻ make it easy for you and bless your marriage, Ameen

#asks #marriage #(?)#not sure what to tag this as tbh

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stormcloudgeneral · 4 years

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Hero’s Legacy, Friend’s Memory

The village of Jarkynn had changed drastically since Adeia had last come to it. In fact, it was no village any longer; forty years had seen it grow into a burgeoning city, with many of the old streets she once knew to be trodden dirt now covered over in cobbles. The old town square had grown to twice its size, an unfamiliar statue in the center depicting a bastard sword of silver metal impaling the marble skull of a dragon. Shopkeepers proudly hawked their wares to passersby, and children darted about. The old hunger and strife that had beset the former trading village had given way to growth and prosperity. And though Jarkynn had always had a temple to Nelandr, the temple now was thrice its former size, and Adeia spied priests of every god in the Glödraun pantheon tending to it. Never had the speed of human lives impressed her so as now. But then, the speed of human life was exactly why she’d come to Jarkynn.

The last and only time she’d come, she had been little more than the guard of a merchant caravan. She initially hadn’t wanted to, but humans were such easily impressed folk, and having a Nularyan guard seemed to them to be worth paying her triple her mercenary’s rates. Back then, her life had been so much simpler, albeit harder. Adeia almost missed the simple days of taking odd jobs, cooking hunted food over a fire, and learning about the short-lived nation that had sprung up beside her native Ilguardia. But Jarkynn had ended that, and she only had one man to blame for it: Balthazar.

Winding her way through the city streets, hood up and snug against her long ears, Adeia did her best to follow the streets that her memories told her led to Balthazar’s home. He’d only been a militiaman at the time, so it had been in the village’s military district, near to the guardsman’s keep. Said keep was growing into a bastion now, and the former ramshackle houses had been replaced with sturdier constructions. That three-story manorhouse, didn’t that used to be the one-story dwelling of the smith who’d made her bodkin arrowheads? Where did he go? Where was his forge? Did the past four decades run him off, or was this still his family’s home?

The Snow Elf shook her head to dispel her recollections of the old homes, nearly running into a scampering pair of children playing at soldiers. She couldn’t count on such thoughts anymore, it seemed. Gods above and below, what felt like such a short time ago was a lifetime for these mortals. Sighing, Adeia let herself lean against a corner, staring up at the buildings. Why was such melancholy in her heart? It wasn’t as though she didn’t expect things to change. Perhaps she wasn’t as used to humans as she liked to tell herself.

The moment’s reverie was broken by a light cough. “Pardon me, ma’am, but have you business here? The merchant district is back towards the Temple, and–”

Adeia turned her head, ears twitching futilely beneath the cloth of her cloak. The person who’d questioned her—a shieldmaiden, judging from her chainmail armor and spear—recoiled at seeing the icy blue skin of Adeia’s face. “Oh! Forgive me, my lady, I didn’t realize what you were.”

“Being an elf makes me a lady, does it?” Adeia’s lips tightened at the formality; wariness of Aryans hadn’t changed in forty years, it seemed. “No matter. I happen to be looking for the house of...a colleague.”

“Then perhaps I can direct you.” The shieldmaiden gave a small, informal salute. “The Dragonslayer District is my responsibility, so if they live here, I can help you find their home.”

“I suppose so.” The Snow Elf tapped one foot against the cobbles, considering whether or not to ask. Finally, her resolve weakened, and she crossed her arms. “Then would you happen to tell me where Balthazar lives?”

The words hung in the air for a few moments before the shieldmaiden seemed to pick them up. A look of pure amusement crossed what was visible of her face beneath her spangenhelm, and she laughed. “Jarl Dragonbane will be holding council tomorrow at the keep, if you have business with him. In the meantime, I can help you find an inn, perhaps?”

“I’m not here on business. This is a social visit.”

The shieldmaiden’s mirth dimmed a little, suspicion in her aquamarine eyes. “Social? You called him a colleague.”

“Colleague and friend.” Adeia set an elbow down on the hilt of her sabre, feeling the creep of misunderstanding growing ever closer. “I would rather leave it as such.”

“Then I’m afraid I cannot direct you to his home, my lady.” The shieldmaiden shook her head. “I’ll have to insist I take you to an inn.”

“Oh fine.” The elf clucked her tongue, and cast back her hood, letting the silver circlet holding back her tawny hair catch the afternoon sun. “My name is Adeia Crestalla. And that should explain to you why this is a social visit.”

Another long pause as the shieldmaiden processed the words, then a louder laugh. The human woman collapsed against her spear to hold steady as the guffaws racked her frame. Embarrassed, Adeia lifted her hood back up. “You think I lie?”

“No, no, I, oh Madyr…” The woman gasped a few times to recover her breath, then removed her own headgear, copper braids frizzy from their captivity in the helmet. “What do you want with my grandfather?”

Though unable to feel the cold of winter, Adeia felt as though a glacier had just run over her heart. “...grandfather?”

“My name is Imma Carlottasdottir, who is the wife of Lafki Balthazarson.” The shieldmaiden let the targe on her shoulder swing onto her arm, revealing four entwined serpentine dragons, each biting the next’s neck. Adeia knew the design immediately; Balthazar had painted it on his own shield, decades ago. And if the Nularyan woman knew anything of humans, it was that they were just as picky about family heraldry and patterns as were Aryan nobles. So it seemed the shieldmaiden was speaking truth.

While Adeia processed this, Imma swung her shield back to a more comfortable position. “So, are you really Lady Crestalla? Grandfather’s stories of you made me think you’d be...gruffer? More stern?”

“Perhaps when I am not caught out of my element.” Adeia raised a hand to cover her eyes. “Balthazar...married?”

“The jarl of a principality has to produce heirs, so, yes.”

“He could have told me.” The elf felt her voice crack slightly as yet more evidence of time passing struck her heart with sledgehammer blows.

Imma frowned lightly, and reached out a hand to pat Adeia’s shoulder. “Well, come on, I’ll let you ask him about it yourself. I’m willing to believe you, but if grandfather turns you away...well, I’ll do my duty.”

“Of course. Lead on then.” Adeia lowered her hand, and stared up at the sky, melancholia settling around her like chains.

As it happened, Balthazar didn’t live in the keep. He lived adjacent to it, in the grandest of the district’s houses. From the stonework, it seemed that the council of Jarkynn had hired Dwarven stonecrafters to build their jarl’s abode, and all the timber seemed high quality as well. The interior was equally lavish, all perfectly made furniture and rare fur rugs. Painted tapestries hung here and there, and the halls were lit with oil lanterns rather than the typical candles of the region. It was a far cry from the soldier’s house Adeia remembered. And despite sitting in a parlour across from the man introduced to her as Jarl Dragonbane, Adeia couldn’t help but feel that she’d been misinformed.

Balthazar in her memories was tall, muscular, and weathered from work and battle. She remembered a man with tanned skin against a wild copper beard and back-length hair, golden eyes glinting with mirth and focus as he would practice swordplay or tend to his leather armor. She remembered his booming laugh when he would make jokes, the snarl of pain when she would treat his wounds, and the broken sobs he gave when they’d been told his parents had been killed in a drake attack. She remembered a human man full of light, life, vigour, and emotion.

The man across from her was a shadow of such a man. His hair was storm grey, neatly braided back and to his shoulders, beard trimmed close to his jaw. Where once was armor and soldier’s clothes now lay elegant robes, trimmed with wolf fur. A golden circlet rested on his brow, and if she really wanted to, Adeia could convince herself that it was the metal’s weight that was causing his face to be so sagged and wrinkled. But the old man’s hands trembled slightly as he took a long sip of mead, eyes less gold now and more like bronze as he stared at the elven woman.

Adeia, she knew, hadn’t changed. What were forty years to an elf, after all? Her muscles were still firm and defined from her training, her face unwrinkled and unblemished, her eyes youthful to match her movements. She was still a young adult by elven standards, barely 1500 years, and she knew she looked it. And the Jarl knew it too, judging from the sadness in his eyes. Finally, the man gave a drawn out sigh, then smirked. “You’re late for our morning spar, Adeia.”

Despite herself, Adeia felt tears clamour for time in her eyes; even with forty years and old age making his voice waver slightly, it was very much still Balthazar’s voice, the same one that had rung out over their campfires during their travels. “I didn’t see you coming to Ilguardia, so I’d say we’re even.”

“I don’t think I ever got an invitation for a state visit.” Balthazar chuckled. “Not like Glödraun is recognized as a worthy power by your Elder Council, no matter which jarl sends them a letter. And it isn’t as though you sent me any yourself.”

That made the elf’s ears twitch in surprise. “I...sent five within ten years, Balthazar. You never answered.”

“Hm. I sent ten in four.” The human man rested his chin on a fist. “I guess Jarl Ordel was right; messages between humans and elves don’t make it to their recipients.”

Adeia winced. She could have figured that out for herself, if she were honest about it. But now at least she knew her old friend’s silence wasn’t malice. After all, here he was, genial as ever towards her. “I...probably should have come sooner, then.”

“You should have. You missed my wedding, after all.” Balthazar lifted his left hand, letting the golden band on his ring finger shine in the firelight. “I had to go for my second-choice of witness.”

“You know I’d have done it if word had gotten through.”

“Adeia, it’s in the past.” Balthazar waved away the apology. “I’m not angry about it. Not anymore, anyway. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“And missed most of your life in the process.” The elf’s grip tightened on her own mead, the drinking horn creaking under her fingers. “I missed it all.”

The wrinkles on Balthazar’s face deepened as he listened to her voice. “You had your own matters to attend to, and I mine. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Who else can I blame?” Adeia closed her eyes tight. “I came here to scold you for not getting in contact, but...I forgot how fast things change. I missed your wedding, your children’s youth, and even your grandchildren are adults now.”

“Imma’s only barely an adult, but the other jarls don’t begrudge me for having let her become a shieldmaiden so young.” Balthazar grinned. “She always liked stories about you, by the way. Even with plenty of tales about Freyja and ancient shieldmaidens, she’d always ask to hear about the Archer of Ilguardia. Pretty sure there’s a tapestry of you in her room, actually. So hey, my granddaughter’s your fan.”

Adeia scoffed slightly at the change in topic, though her reaction was equal parts embarrassment and annoyance. “Be that as it may, your people remember you, not me. Not Vishas either, or Moqita.”

“I did my best to make sure they got credit.” The jarl glanced into the fire, his own sadness doing nothing to stop Adeia’s own from surging in her. “But the people of Glödraun have heard plenty of stories about the fairfolk champions and their mighty deeds. They wanted their own, so...here I sit. The Dragonbane.”

“Not as though you don’t deserve it.” Adeia took a long drink of her mead. “Even the Aryans are buzzing about it, thanks to my talking some of their ears off.”

“Please tell me they’re praising me and not saying that Runhaarzaal was frail by the time I got to him.”

“Depends on who you ask. A few nobles try to spin the tale so that Runhaarzaal died of overindulgence, and you just poked him in the eye a few times before calling yourself a dragonslayer.”

The both shared a small chuckle at the ridiculousness of people denying Balthazar’s achievement, but melancholia replaced the mirth far too fast. Adeia took the moment to control her breathing, recenter herself, then looked her friend in the face. “I...miss you, you know. Travelling has felt wrong these past forty years without a brute of a human sharing my fire.”

“Well, I’d have only been a decent swordhand for twenty of those.” Bathazar tapped one knee. “The fall I took after stabbing him has come back to bite me in my old age; walking is an absolute chore.”

“A good enough healer could fix that, Balthazar, if you wanted them to.”

“And I don’t.” The man leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want to lose the memory, no matter how old I get.”

“Fair enough. I didn’t let them heal the scars I got from it.” The elven woman placed a hand against her abdomen, the feeling of dragon talons raking through flesh as vivid in her mind as the human hero’s geniality. “But...I am sorry I took this long to come back.”

“Then make up for it by staying awhile.” Balthazar drained his drinking horn. “I have an opening for a berserkr, and there’s no one I trust with my life more.”

Adeia’s hand tightened more around her own drinking vessel. “I...I don’t know. Your people probably won’t accept–”

“So what? I’m the Dragonbane, Adeia, hero of Glödraun. I think they’ll let me name an Aryan woman to my berserkir as opposed to naming her a shieldmaiden. I can get away with that.”

“What about your wife?”

That gave Balthazar a moment of pause, after which he gave a chuckle. “Hilda knows what we were and what we weren’t. She’s not about to be jealous because my old friend came back. She might be jealous that you still look so good despite the years, though, while she frets over every sign of age.”

“Age. That’s another thing.” Adeia felt the tears rise again as she lifted her gaze to Balthazar’s, piercing his bronzing eyes with her vermillion ones. “Tell me the truth, Balthazar: how long until you…?”

The human man set his horn aside, a cloud shadowing his face. “No idea. But I probably won’t make another decade. That’s mortality for you. You’re lucky you never have to experience it.”

“Lucky?” Adeia’s lips pulled back in a hiss. “I’m lucky that I don’t age, am I? Lucky that my life is endless? Lucky that I’ll outlive the humans I��ve met? Lucky that I’ll have millennia upon millennia of life left after this city dies? Lucky that I’ll outlive you?”

A crack rang out through the room as Adeia’s fingers shattered the drinking horn, sending her mead cascading down to the floorboards. Red blood dyed her blue skin as she let the fragments of horn clatter down to join the drink, and the sadness she’d been holding back finally started making streams run down her cheeks. “Lucky, Balthazar? I’m cursed! Even if I had never left after you killed Runhaarzaal, that’s still barely any time with you! Your whole life has gone by, and...and what have I done aside from travel, spread stories, and fight a bit more? Even if I become your berserkr, what am I supposed to do with myself when you’re dead and gone, and I no longer have a friend to guard? Tell me, damn you! What am I supposed to do with this curse of life if your time runs down before mine?”

The aged hero sat silent as Adeia struggled to find her composure again, the flickering firelight turning his wrinkles to canyons. He sat silent as she wiped her tears, silent as she used a small pulse of magic to heal her hand, silent until her breathing was steady again. Only then did Balthazar look her in the eyes, and give a sad smile. When he spoke, the elf finally heard in her friend’s voice the tone of the leader he’d become in her absence.

“Adeia...we humans believe that everyone deserves to live life to the fullest. We only have eight decades in us at best, and not all of those are useful. So we live. We do everything we can, try everything that interests us. We fight, we laugh, we love, and we pass the torch to our children. I rule so that my son can take my title and build off it, so that Imma can find a worthy husband and maybe raise little heroes of her own. As a mortal, I try to leave a legacy behind that my children and people can be proud of. So I can’t tell you how to live an endless life. What I can tell you is that I missed you these long years, and if I’m going to die soon, I’d like to die with my friend nearby. And because the only things I can leave behind are memories and stories, I want you to have as many of those as possible so that my legacy can life forever on in you. My passing will hurt. Hilda will cry, Lafki will beg Lalnur to honour my soul, and Imma will hide her sorrow in her work. But I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t die. So, my friend...please be with me until the end, be there for my family after I pass on, and remember me until your time comes. Please?”

Breath shaky, Adeia stood from her seat and walked over to Balthazar. Standing over him for a moment, she bent down and wrapped him in a hug. “I never did learn how to not go along with your dumb plans, you brute.”

A sniff came from the man as he embraced his comrade to him. “So much for Aryan superiority, then.”

“Shut up. But you’d better last as long as possible, or I’ll kill you myself.”

“It’s a deal.” Balthazar squeezed his friend, the tightness of the hug far less so than the old ones Adeia could remember, but warm nonetheless. “Welcome home, Deia.”

The elf nodded, feeling the chains about her heart start to loosen, replaced by the armor of duty and camaraderie. “I’m home, Bal.”

A month later, Adeia Crestalla, Dragonslayer and Archer of Ilguardia, was named to Jarl Balthazar Dragonbane’s berserkir to no complaints from anyone. Two years later, she was in the crowd at the wedding of Imma Carlottasdottir to a jarl of another province. In another two years, she was named godmother of Imma’s son, Balthus. A year after that, Adeia spoke at the funeral for Hilda, dead from plague. And three years from then, Balthazar the Sword of Victory passed in his sleep, entombed in the Pantheonic Temple. It was Adeia who signed off on Jarl Lafki’s decision to rename Jarkynn to “Balthasberg,” and Adeia a century later who helped finalize the decree from the Council of Jarls that Balthasberg and its province would forever be under the rule of the Pantheonic Temple. After this, she vanished from Glödraun, insisting that she had matters to attend to elsewhere.

A millennia onward, Balthasberg was a metropolis, a holy mecca for Glödraun, and the Pantheonic Temple had grown strong and influential. The leaders for each of the pantheon’s gods ruled well, spread their divine’s word, and never faltered in their duties. In the city center now stood a dramatic statue of a youthful human man, bastard sword held at the ready, posed bravely and defiantly in the face of the implied Rogue Dragon Runhaarzaal. Forever memorialized now was Balthazar, God-Hero of Victory and Success. His triumph served as one of the catalysts for elven nations across the world beginning to draft interspecies relations laws, for the fairfolk the world over to accept hominids as potential equals. His legacy was that of power, change, and divinity. Truly a scion of human potential, even if his bloodline had vanished from the world over time.

And yet, every decade, on the anniversary of his death, a hooded figure would appear at the statue at dawn. Every decade, she would place something at the statue’s feet that she’d found on her travels: a scroll of foreign poems, a decorative axe, a crystal sculpture of a sphinx, and so on. Every decade, this woman would spend the rest of the day in the inn that boasted of being Balthazar’s favourite as a youth, telling lesser-known tales of the God-Hero to anyone who would listen. When asked why, she would give no answer aside from “I haven’t stopped remembering him.” And she never did.

#Long Read #short story #fantasy #elf #snow elf #humanity #aging #memory #Glödraun #escheluon #mortality #friendship #legacy #dragonslayer

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paradoxicalca · 4 years

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r/hockey NHL Power Rankings Week 5: Presidential Losers Edition

/r/Hockey NHL Power Rankings Week Oct 28, 2019 - Nov 3, 2019Thank YouThank you to all of the volunteers doing the power rankings. Each ranker has their own system and have their own reasonings and analyis. It truly is a lot of work.RankersSpoilerOrganizersSpoilerVisualizationThe visualization contains historical data, so you can see how your team has done over time. Hopefully, we can run this for many years in hopes that we can see the rise and fall of teams by /r/hockey opinion.It automatically updates so feel free to bookmark. You can find it hereProcessHow does this work? Throughout the course of the week rankers are able to access an app that will allow them to rank teams. At the end of the period we calculate the average ranking for every team and collate all of the analysis provided by rankers.The app then generates a post that is first proofread and then posted to /r/hockey!Rankings (28/31 Rankers Reporting)Ranking (avg)TeamDeltaOverall RecordRecord This WeekComments1 (1.38)Boston Bruins110-1-22-0-0The Bruins and Sharks gave new meaning to "Hockey Fights Cancer" on Tuesday night. The game was 5-1 at the end of the second and the third period was so scrappy that the refs were giving out game misconducts like halloween candy to players on both teams and even a coach. The Sens game started great for Bruins with the Sens having too much man, giving the Bruins a PP which Pasta quickly scored on for his League-tying 13th. Shortly after, Backes and Sabourin had an unfortunate collision which caused Sabourin to be evacuated and Backes to leave the game. It is hard for players to continue after such an injury early in the game, but Marchand couldn't resist himself and had to do Brad Marchand things. This is the last light week for the Bruins until New Years where the Bruins will have 3-4 games a week.2 (2.41)Washington Capitals211-2-33-0-0The Caps won a tight one against the Leafs then SMOKED the Sabres, in what was the first Caps game DC watched in weeks. We were busy watching the Nats bring another title to the nation's newest title town. I'm still a little hungover from the parade. Anyway the caps are technically the best team in the league and subjectively kinda look like it. Carlson sonned the entire league for a month, Ovi's on pace for 60 goals, and our depth is actually a strength for the first time in years. This season's been a joy so far, the kind that reminds you why you like sports in the first place.3 (3.66)New York Islanders410-3-02-0-0Everything is going perfectly. Goaltending is as good as it was last year. Defense is limiting chances and Pelech looks like a top tier d-man getting paid like a #6. Barzal is doing the same things he always was, but results are now coming. Nelson dominated Brocktober. Bailey and Lee are living up to their contracts (shoutout to everyone on /r/hockey who said paying Bailey after having production this late in his career as a result of JT was Clarkson 2.0). Brassard moving to wing has proven to have ridiculous success (5 straight games with a goal). And the 4th line (TBFLIH is a 3rd line right now) is doing all you could ask for. Things are amazing.4 (5.21)Carolina Hurricanes29-4-12-1-05 (5.93)Edmonton Oilers-10-4-12-1-0Gave the Red WIngs their only regulation win in weeks, but we got some strong wins against the Blue Jackets and the Penguins. This team is performing far above it's expected level. This can be largely thanks to the some excellent play from Mike Smith and Mikko Koskinen. The team undeniably needs more scoring from the bottom 6, but goals from Cobly Cave and Khaira this week has been a positive. THE player for the Oilers in the most recent stretch has been easily Drasaitl. The man is playing insanely well and is easily playing like the best player in the league. McDavid seems to be struggling a bit, but he's considered to be a generational talent for a reason. The man will be back to form soon enough. Insane that McDavid struggling is still leading the league in assists, and in 4th in the league for points. The powerplay has been chugging along at league 2nd best numbers, but the percentages are deceiving as we've gone 10% this week.6 (7.17)Buffalo Sabres-39-4-20-2-1Colin Miller shoots the puck 95% of the time he gets it in the offensive zone. Jack Eichel needs to be more like Colin Miller. The Buffalo Sabres need to stop trying to force passes through three or more defenders on the power play and in tight on the goalie. We put in a decent game against Washington and got frustrated against the Islanders. It should be noted that both of these teams have been playing extremely well as of late and we haven't been playing as well as we could be. We saw the first major line blender on Saturday and that should continue in Sweden. Hopefully two games at home should energize our young Swedes and turn this ship around.7 (7.31)Colorado Avalanche-68-4-20-2-1Injuries suck but great teams win even without key players. Avs just seem to be lacking energy since Rantanen and Landeskog have been out. They haven't looked awful but certainly not good enough to be a top team in the league. The Good News Mackinnon seems to be catching fire again. His point streak came to an end, but he is shooting a ton and creating chaos. Hopefully he manages to wake up the rest of team and get them going. Calder Watch: Cale Makar is still leading rookies in scoring, but looking a lot better, and starting to try and blow through opposing teams. Cannot wait for him to score an end to end goal he has been very close. This week has two divisional match ups and a game in Columbus. We need to win at least two to turn this ship around.8 (7.62)St. Louis Blues79-3-33-0-0Even though we have won 4 games in a row those wins were not against impressive teams and each one of them was closer than I would’ve liked. Tarasenko is clearly missed in those games and we need one of the young guys to step up to the plate.9 (9.41)Vancouver Canucks79-3-23-0-1Writing from security line in the airport so forgive me. Last week I said I wouldn't complain if the Canucks kept scoring 5 goals a game. So I won't. While I felt the Canucks' first game against Calgary more or less set that bar for how bad this team can look with a healthy lineup, this week has given us a pretty good glimpse into what they look like playing at their best. The Canucks were defensively sound and utter dominant in the offensive zone in every game this week, and they were rewarded for their efforts by every goaltender not named Gibson. Demko and Markstrom continue to be playing out of their minds, even if they are still prone to the occasional brainfart. How long can it last? Who knows - it's still early and hard to guess what the "new normal" may be for this club (they seem to be taking a step this season, but how big?) For now, it's just fun to see the goals pile up.10 (9.76)Nashville Predators-28-4-21-1-1Well that was an up-and-down week. The week started with Peks getting his second SO of the year against the Hawks, in a game that will appropriately get a redo in two weeks. Halloween saw the Flames come to town, in a game that can only be described by the word "epic". Yeah, we lost it in OT and I should probably be upset proving the most dangerous lead in hockey, but that was one of the most thrilling regular season games I've seen in a while. Seriously, do yourself a favour and watch the full game if you didn't see it live. Saturday against the Rangers saw Saros continue his swing back into form; unfortunately, it also saw the offense struggle to click and was the first game this season the Preds didn't score multiple goals. Continuing the dichotomous mood of the day, the Winter Classic jerseys were also revealed to both adoration and disdain. Errrr... yeah, usually I write these into some semblance of a point but I got nothing else so... [insert smooth, cohesive ending here]11 (11.1)Anaheim Ducks-9-6-12-0-1Congratulations to Getzlaf for playing in 1,000 NHL games. He has played in exactly half of the franchise’s 2,000 games. Definitely a number in the rafters whenever he wants to hang them up. In other news, Ritchie did a thing that wasn’t a penalty. He scored a goal! The ducks seem to play to the level of their opponent. Still should be an up and down season.12 (11.41)Vegas Golden Knights-38-5-20-0-2The Knights played only two games this week and both games are eerily similar. The Knights go in the third up by two controlling play for most of the game only to lose the lead after taking the foot off the gas in the third period and then losing in overtime. Vegas has all the talent to win in the league but they need to close out games like those. Questions are also surrounding the health of forward Alex Tuch as he left Saturday's game early with an upper body injury.13 (11.48)Arizona Coyotes-8-4-12-1-0We have come a long way in the past two years under Tocchet. It took 37 games two years ago to reach 8 wins on the season, now it took only 13. If Chayka’s gamble on paying players on future potential pays off this team will compete for years to come.14 (12.41)Pittsburgh Penguins-48-5-11-0-115 (14.45)Toronto Maple Leafs-37-5-31-0-1The Leafs got back Travis Dermott this week, but his effort with Matthews' two goal performance wasn't enough to beat Ovi's 4 point night, as they lost in OT, 4-3. After a few days of rest, the Leafs faced a tired Philly team, and it took 11 rounds of shootout before Andreas Johnsson secured the second point for Toronto. Marner/Matthews were flipped back to the sides they were on last season, which scored 1 in 8 (!!) powerplay opportunities vs. the capitals. The penalty kill also has been struggling, as it let up 2 goals on Saturday in Philly. Once the special teams are looking a little stronger, this team will be a lot more consistent, and rise up these rankings.16 (16.31)Calgary Flames28-7-22-2-0The Flames had a tough week with 4 road games and split them 2-2, including an exciting comeback win against Nashville. While the Flames still aren't at last years form, they have been putting in better effort and leaving fans a bit more optimistic.17 (16.48)Montreal Canadiens-7-5-22-1-0Can't complain with 4/6 points on a western road trip. Boys managed to win on the second half of a back to back even with their backup in net. Maybe a certain team would like to know the secret?18 (16.86)Florida Panthers17-3-42-1-0The Panthers have had the hardest schedule to open up the season and are in 3rd place in the Atlantic. It's not always pretty (like Huberdeau's mustache) but the job gets done (like Huberdeau's play). The week started terribly in Vancouver but they bounced back with wins over Colorado and Detroit. Next up will be a big challenge against the Caps and hopefully Trocheck and Matheson will be healthy by then.19 (17.52)Tampa Bay Lightning-56-5-21-2-0I'm hoping this week long break will help this team to wake up, because sometimes it really looks like they aren't trying. The PK is still abysmal, and with how many penalties the team is taking, that turns into a decent amount of goals for opposing teams.20 (17.76)Winnipeg Jets18-7-02-1-0Things are starting to look up in Winterpeg, 2-1 on the week, couple of hard fought back to back wins over San Jose and Vegas. With the high undoubtably being Lowry making Vegas look pretty dumb for paying a bonafide goon 3 mil a year to lose a staged fight vs an actual NHL caliber shut down centre. This team, while the record doesn’t look amazing, feels to be gaining some amount of momentum, and this maybe feels like the start of something really really good. The talent on the front end is undeniable, if the back end can keep things together, this is a good team. But knowing the Jets I’ll be writing next week about how they need to sell everything after going 0-321 (19.76)Philadelphia Flyers-16-5-21-1-1This week was an up and down week, but overall I'm alright with it. Got 3 out of 4 on a back to back between the devils whom we beat, and the leafs who took 11 ROUNDS IN THE SHOOTOUT TO FINALLY COME TO AN END LIKE JUST EXTEND 3V3 OVERTIME ALREADY and lost to. You'll notice I'm not referencing a certain game on tuesday because I've actually blocked out the memory of that game. Our young guns are doing well, Elliot should probably be the starter in a 1a 1b with Hart, and SANHEIM STAY ON YOUR SKATES YOU CANT KEEP FALLING OVER. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Praise Gritty22 (20.1)Dallas Stars47-8-13-0-023 (22.76)New York Rangers15-5-12-0-0As I said last week, we should expect the unexpected. Beating two solid teams comes with that apparently, but I won't complain. Calling up Chytil and Lindgren has worked out great. Fil has two goals in two games and Lindgren has played very well. This team is gonna continue to be confusing but hopefully they will continue to be entertaining.24 (22.76)Columbus Blue Jackets-25-6-30-2-1The good: Sonny Milano may actually be in the middle of a breakout season. If he can just not do stupid things he'd be a great middle-six player. Gavrikov has been a solid addition to our D pairings. The bad: Goaltending and defense. Defensive play in front of our two young goaltenders has been questionable at best. The goalies themselves are not two-time Vezina winning goalies either. The ugly: Scoring - The Jackets have 34 goals for in 14 games -- good for 27th in the NHL (along with 50 goals against, which is also 27th). We have 1 player in the top 100 in the league, and 2 in the top 200 in scoring so far. (Dubois with 6-4-10 for 86th and Cam with 3-4-7 for 183rd) Special teams - Honestly just getting sick of talking about this. Our power play is so bad it's comical. We're in the bottom 6 in both PK AND PP %, which no other team is.25 (24.69)Los Angeles Kings-5-9-01-1-0Started the week with a loss to Chicago, ended the week with a win against Chicago in a doozy of an OT game that Doughty finished off. Kings are still right about where people thought they would be so no big surprises yet.26 (25.97)Chicago Blackhawks14-6-31-1-1Dach is here to stay. Boqvist was recalled from Rockford. His first NHL goal was the Hawks' first by a defenseman at 5-on-5, becoming the last team to score as such. Also, Toews earned his first 5-on-5 point with a secondary assist on Boqvist's goal. Hawks' rookies that scored their 1st NHL goal in the 1st period of their 2nd game this season: Kubalik, Dach, Boqvist. The Hawks gave up 100 shots against in consecutive games (Tue @ NSH & Sat @ LAK). Scott Powers wrote, "The Blackhawks’ expected goals percentage was 22.65 against the Predators, according to Natural Stat Trick. That’s the lowest it’s been in the last five seasons." Seabrook was a healthy scratch for the 2nd consecutive game (Tue), but drew back into the lineup. On Saturday, the Hawks broke their drought of 22-consecutive PPs without a goal, and Crawford played his first game without giving up a PPG against. Lehner's streak of penalties killed ended at 25. He earned his 100th career win Sunday.27 (26.34)San Jose Sharks-44-10-10-3-0Another garbage week for the Sharks. This week is their last chance to turn it around, if they're still at the bottom of the pacific by the 20 game mark it's very unlikely we'll make the playoffs. This has been such a frustrating team to watch. There have been good games, so I know the team has it in them to play well, but Deboer's system is failing. It feels like a repeat of last season's start where our system of lots of point shots is failing us on defence without providing all the goals it did last year. The team is far better when we cycle in the offensive zone and use our forward talent instead of relying on Burns/Karl's point shots which cause too many turnovers. There's far too much talent on the roster to be doing so badly, it's time for Deboer to make some changes or Doug Wilson will have to.28 (26.52)New Jersey Devils13-5-41-0-2What is there to say at this point? This team is not winning as they should be. The Good: We managed to beat the Hurricanes, by some stroke of luck, and the Flyers game wasn't a complete dumpster fire. Vatanen has been playing very good offensive hockey and is currently 3rd in points on the team, and Zacha seems to finally be breaking into his own. The Bad: We keep blowing leads, we had leads in both the Bolts and Flyers losses. Oh and it's worth noting that in a 7 goal game, Stammer and Kuch combined for 0 points against us. Plus both our PP and PK are sitting near the bottom of the league. The Ugly: Blackwood has a 3-2-3 record (every win and OT loss) while sporting a 0.878 SV%. Yikes. Hall has 12 points and is point per game, but only has 2 goals. He really needs to be one of our finishing guys, currently the only guy over 5 goals is Palms at 6, and 3 came during his wasted hat trick against the Bolts.29 (26.97)Minnesota Wild-14-9-10-2-1Three losses for Minnesota this week and the boys knew how to treat their fans well by losing in a different fashion each time out. Every veteran looks like they've lost another step over the summer and any faithful fan courageous enough to watch night in and night out should be looking to add twelve steps to their life. Hey, at least we're getting some great Boudreau memes out of this nightmare.30 (28.07)Detroit Red Wings-4-10-11-2-0The amount of effort needed to put into this blurb might exceed the effort we have been seeing from our beloved Wings. The talk of the NHL town has come towards head coach Jeff Blashill as he occupies a chair set in the California wildfires. Yzerman most likely does not have a replacement as of yet and offered Blashill a two year extension at the start of the season so I would be surprised if he lets him go now. Here is the issue. Either Blashill is not making great game plans or the players are not executing them and going freestyle. The effort just seems very lazy from the team as of now so I will choose the latter. The power play goals seem to come from crisp passes and good positioning rather than luck, and the Wings are looking to make the right plays but it just seems like they are executing well at all. We shall watch with great interest to see if something changes.31 (29.31)Ottawa Senators-3-8-10-1-0The Good: Our Tank is on track, the Sharks are falling hard in the standings, and all the other teams we're competing with for 31st in the standings have at least 1 point this week. A great week for the Sennies game plan to #DernièrePourLafreniè. The Bad: Logan Brown going into week-to-week mode due to an unspecified injury and Sabourin suffering a particularly scary concussion put a serious damper on the Bruins game. Thankfully, Sabourin is being released from the hospital today thanks to some kind of miracle (and the world-class doctors of Boston). In further silver lining, this means in the next game we'll have a line with Mikkel Bødker and Bobby Ryan on it for maximum overtank to really keep us low in the standings. r/hockey NHL Power Rankings Week 5: Presidential Losers Edition Source

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