#i can indeed draw humans. though i forgot that myself

[sonic-adventure-3]

a wip that i absolutely intend to finish but may take me a bit to make further progress on. i love the “sonic style” costume in project sekai so i wanted to design an equivalent “miku style” for sonic and draw them together :] they’re besties

#i also need to draw an alternate version with miku in the project diva sonic style and sonic in a more literal ver of miku’s usual outfit #they’re in each other’s poses :] #i can indeed draw humans. though i forgot that myself #i made miku shorter so the difference wouldn’t be too distracting but sonic is still so fucking short #still kinda unsure abt sonic’s gloves n shoes tho. the shoe cuffs especially idk what to do with #it’s an important part of sonic designs so it looks awkward doing away w it but i feel as is the shoes lack impact #eh. i’ll figure it out eventually #doodles #wip

[shoppncarticles]

The Riolu Family

Alright, this one’s sure to be a hot topic. Riolu is a pure Fighting type, and one themed around the idea of ‘aura,’ a sort of emanation from the soul that, in the context of Pokemon, fuels fighting prowess and energy-based attacks, similar to Ryu Street Fighter’s Hadouken. Riolu’s alright for… whatever it’s supposed to be. It’s some kind of animal mascot kid, almost being a striking resemblance to Klonoa. Truthfully, though, it seems like its Riolu’s evolution who was designed first, and then Riolu was made after to give it a cutesy kid form. I only say this knowing how said evolution has been treated in marketing, so I’m inclined to think that may indeed have been the origin story. Otherwise, Riolu doesn’t really seem to have much basis in its design and just kind of exists. Alright.

Lucario, though, appears, vaguely, to be based on Anubis, being a humanoid creature with the head of a wolf. Its other connections to the Egyptian god, though, are tenuous at best, and don’t seem to draw a solid connection between the two designs.

Even besides that, Lucario does not strike me as an especially appealing or interesting design. I can see what they were going for, that being some humanoid animal taking on the role of a martial arts master, but…it comes across as being incredibly muddles and cobbled together. Several people, including myself, have taken issue with the weird dreadlock-like shapes attached to the back of Lucario’s head, but after looking at the markings on its head I’m inclined to believe those are supposed to resemble the ends of a headband, I think? Headbands are typically associated with martial artists, again, see Ryu, so I feel like that was the intention here, but considering how bulbous they are it just seems very odd.

In fact, the rest of the solid, straight black lines on Lucario’s body are pretty unappealing, and make the design seem a lot flatter and unnatural than it should. The black on Lucario’s paws is fine, that looks like it blends with the blue of its arms well enough. Why isn’t its head, waist, or shoulders like that too? The weirdly yellow fur on its torso has some ruffle detail, so why doesn’t the rest of its fur? Oh, and the tail. That’s, uh, a pretty pathetic wolf tail if you ask me, Lucario. Yeesh. Riolu’s looked a lot better, maybe thanks to its smaller size letting the tail appear bigger by comparison. This one just looks thin and plasticy, just stuck onto Lucario’s backside.

There’s also the weird thing going on with its legs. Why does it look like Lucario is wearing shorts?? Why is there such a divide between its actual legs and what I’m guessing is fur?? What’s the decision with that design??

…oh. Yeah, that deserves mention too. Lucario just has. An awful nose and mouth placement. Why it wasn’t given a proper canine snout is beyond me, maybe in an attempt to make it look more human? I’m sorry but from any angle that isn’t the original 3/4 it was drawn in it just looks. Really unappealing.

You may ask, why am I being so critical of this one Fighting type that doesn’t seem to warrant so much in-detail criticism and dissection? Well, Lucario was, for whatever reason, chosen to be one of the poster children for Gen 4, and even Pokemon as a whole since it continues to enjoy quite a bit of good press even these days. Lucario even got a playable role in every Super Smash Bros game since its induction in Brawl, so you know someone on staff thinks its really special. Unfortunately, this has the same effect on me that Pikachu and, to a lesser extent, Charizard have, where my relative indifference to the design has grown into irritation thanks to how much it’s been pushed in my face. I’m sorry, Game Freak, but Lucario really doesn’t feel that special, especially when other perfectly marketable humanoid fighters like Blaziken exist as well.

Score: 1/5

Lucario also becomes part Steel type, for some reason. I forgot to mention that.

Lucario, predictably, also would get a Mega Evolution, though like Blaziken I am pleased to say it does pretty up its design by a decent margin. Not enough to make Lucario a favorite of mine, but well enough to where I don’t hate looking at it anymore.

The more jagged, uneven streaks of black all over its body remove most of the weird, solid bands of black it previously had, though it still has the rings around its shoulders. The yellow chest fur flaring out and completely replacing the tail is a great improvement, and the legs actually conforming to singular shapes is much appreciated as well. Lucario still has weird dreadlocks, unfortunately, and its mouth has remain unchanged, but I’ll take what I can get.

It helps that when Mega Lucario was shown off in the anime, it was given a lot of exaggerated, strained expressions (that thankfully hid its mouth) and made its head appear much more animalistic than it is normally. Mega Lucario was also portrayed as a bloodthirsty, ruthless fighter, than the otherwise stoic, disciplined personality regular Lucario is typically saddled with. One of its unique Pokedex entries even punctuates its new personality with one word, “heartless.” This is far more interesting, if you ask me, and feels pretty accurate to what it would be like if a feral wolf did indeed somehow learn martial arts. And the ability to fire energy spheres from its paws, I guess.

Score: 3/5

There you go, Lucario. Good job getting yourself fixed up.

[Gen 4 Archive]

#pokemon #pokemon review #riolu #lucario #mega lucario

[lavender-scent]

BBRae Week Day Five - Sunny Days

AO3 - FF.net

I Know My Heart Can Be So Cold, But I'm Sweet For You.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Jump City. The Titans agreed to seize the opportunity and go out since the city’s villains seemed to want to enjoy a day off as well.

Except for one person.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“You heard me Beast Boy,” she sighed, “I’d like to spend the day at home. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“But everyone is going!”

“And I’m not.” Raven gave him her back declaring the end of their discussion.

He wanted to try to convince her more but he heard his communicator vibrating. “Beast Boy, are you coming?”

He brought it closer to his mouth to speak, “On my way, Cy.”

It had been going like this for a while now: Raven constantly refusing every invite from the team and spending more and more time alone. Beast Boy and the others had tried to convince her to go out with them multiple times only to be rejected at every turn.

The whole team gave up eventually except for Beast Boy. It had taken her long enough to open up to them all, especially him, the first time and he didn't mind getting her to do it again even if it took a while.

Their friends believed it was just a phase but he didn’t want to risk it. He was not letting her shut herself in and isolate herself that easily.

“I’m going now but if you change your mind give me a call, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, still giving him her back.

He sighed but transformed into a hawk and flew through her window down to where his friends were waiting.

“What did friend Raven say?” Starfire asked once he got into the car.

“The usual. I want some quiet time by myself, blah blah blah. You should try it, Beast Boy, blah blah blah.” He tried his best impression of her with a frown.

“We’ll give her space. Maybe she’ll come around.” That was Robin’s answer every time.

'Next time there won’t be any “space”', Beast Boy thought to himself. He would get her out of that room. Not today, though. Raven really hated the sun and it was an exceptionally bright day out.

As they got to the park and started unpacking their stuff, Beast Boy realized he forgot something. “My umbrella! I forgot it at home.”

“B, for the last time, it’s not going to rain.”

“But the weather lady said there’s a 60% chance it would.”

“But the sun is bright and shiny today,” Starfire pointed out, “it does not seem that it will be the raining today, friend Beast Boy.”

“You know I hate the rain! Better safe than sorry.”

“What’s wrong, is the little kitty afraid to get wet?” Cyborg teased.

Beast Boy ignored him and transformed into a hawk for the second time. It would only take him a few minutes to grab his umbrella from the tower and be back. Once he got back to the tower he transformed back into his human form.

The tower smelled different than when he left it, felt different. Was Raven performing some sort of a spell? No, he knew when she was practicing spells. The scent always included herbs and old books. This scent smelled… sweet?

“Stop!” he heard a familiar voice.

Raven.

He ran to the source of the sound only to realize there was more than just her pleading voice. It made him run faster.

“Don’t touch her!” Beast Boy yelled when he reached Cyborg’s lab.

What Beast Boy saw was the furthest thing from what he expected. He had had all the worst scenarios prepared in his head, only to find Raven holding what looked like a five year old boy in one arm and a girl that seemed just a little bit older on the other.

“What the-“ before he got to finish his sentence he was cut off with screams.

“BEAST BOY!” the boy and the girl both jumped from Raven’s arms into Beast Boy's.

Beast Boy looked down at the two kids hugging his legs and back to his teammate. She looked like she was barely breathing.

“Raven, you brought Beast Boy!” the girl spoke first.

“It seems like I did.” She said nervously. She walked to Beast Boy and held his wrist, “Can I have a word?”

“Of course.” He followed her to the hallway leaving the two kids alone in the lab.

“What are you doing here?”

“I forgot my umbrella.”

“You do know that it’s not going to rain.”

“But the weather lady said-“

“Enough with the weather lady!” she threw her hands in the air in frustration. “Take your umbrella and just leave.”

“Okay, fine!” After a second thought, he asked, “Wait, who are those kids?”

“They’re my… cousins.” Raven said after she realized there was no way she could hide it any more.

It was obvious she didn’t want him there but he was still confused. Why did she hide that from the team?

“I didn’t know you had cousins?”

“I’ve reconnected with my aunt on Earth a few weeks ago. She had some work here in the city and I offered to take the kids for the day.” Raven answered hoping the investigation would be over soon. ��Any more questions?”

“You have an aunt and you didn’t tell us?” Beast Boy paused. “Is that why you haven’t been spending as much time with us lately?”

“I.. I wanted-“ Raven was cut off by a loud noise.

They went back to the lab to find the boy climbing Cyborg computer set.

“James, get down! Raven is going to be mad at us!” his sister – Beast Boy assumed – tried to reach him using a chair but he was far above her.

“James, get down!” Raven ordered.

“I can’t!” James cried. “I don’t know how!”

Beast Boy decided to step in transforming into a moose, holding the little boy with one antler and putting him back down.

“That was awesome!” the boy yelled once the changeling went back to his human body. “Do it again!”

“Yes, Beast Boy do it again!” the girl joined.

“Erica, I believe Beast Boy has somewhere to be.” Raven gave him a glare.

“Right!” Beast Boy found himself forgetting about the picnic. The truth was he wanted to stay with Raven. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“Nope.”

Both Beast Boy and Raven tuned at the sound of something breaking.

“Sorry,” James said, putting back a remote that was now in half.

Raven sighed. “Why did I think bringing them here was a good idea.”

“We still haven’t seen the training room!” Erica reminded her.

“I…” Raven was trying to think of a way to get out of this seeing how James causing chaos in the lab just confirmed that he shouldn’t be anywhere near all those weapons. Before she got to say anything, Beast Boy spoke up. “Who wants to go to the fair?”

“Me! Me! Me!” Both kids held their hands up high.

Beast Boy turned to his teammate. “You think you can give us a ride?”

Raven was caught by surprise. “Uhm, yeah I think I can. But only once.”

She held the changeling's hand with one and Erica’s with the other asking her to hold her brother’s hand as well.

When they got to the fair the kids immediately let her hand go and ran to see all the games they could play.

“That was a close one,” Beast Boy chuckled.

Raven didn’t laugh. “What are you still doing here?”

“Helping you?”

“I didn’t ask for help. I have everything under control. You can leave.”

“Everything under control? Okay then, where are the kids right now?”

“They are right ther-“ Raven looked around to find neither of them within her sight.

“They’re by the big wheel. You’re welcome.”

“I knew that.”

“No you didn’t. Now can you let go of my hand so I can get them some tickets.”

Raven looked down to find that she was indeed still holding his hand. She removed her hand from his and hoped that the hood of her cloak was hiding her blush as he left to go get the tickets.

“Can we please get ice cream?” James asked, running to her.

“Sure.”

“And I want to get on the big wheel!”

“Whatever you want.”

“Is Beast Boy your boyfriend?”

“No,” she answered without thinking. “Wait, what?”

“I saw you guys holding hands,” explained the little boy.

“No, we’re just teammates.” Raven blushed. Why would the kids ask her such a question? Weren't they too young to know about this stuff?

“My friend Lily thinks you guys look great together,” Erica said after she joined them. “She has all these drawings of you.”

“Drawings? Of us?”

“Yeah, kissing.”

Raven tried to change the subject when she saw her teammate coming with the tickets. “Oh look! Beast Boy brought the tickets. Go stand in line for your turn.”

They ran to Beast Boy to get their tickets and went back waiting at the big wheel.

“At least now we don’t have to worry about them getting hurt or killed by Cy.” Beast Boy said cheerfully.

“Yeah, great," Raven replied harshly.

Beast Boy turned to look at her. “Are you mad at me?”

She ignored him.

Beast Boy knew she trying to push him away again. Too bad it wouldn’t work.

“Why didn’t you tell us about your aunt and cousins?”

“It’s stupid.”

“I like stupid.”

“You wouldn’t understand. None of you would.”

“Try me.”

Raven exhaled a long breath. She had a feeling Beast Boy wouldn't be giving up soon. He never knew when to stop.

“I didn’t tell you about my cousins because I didn’t want them to meet you.”

“Are you embarrassed by us??”

“No... the opposite.”

“You’re… proud of us?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I mean I am proud of you. I just didn’t want them to meet you because I know they would love you more.”

Beast Boy had never been more confused in his life. “People are usually happy by that.”

“I want them to love you. I just don’t want them to love you more than…. More than me.” Her insecurity finally broke through and she looked almost ashamed despite her defiance.

“Rae, I’m sure the kids love you. You’re an amazing person.”

“Yeah That’s how it felt before you came.” Raven knew she was being immature about this but she couldn’t help it. “I know I say I don’t care about fans but it’s always the same. Kids usually like you, guys like Cyborg, girls like Robin and boys like Starfire. No one likes me.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yeah right. How could I forget? Only creeps like the creep.”

Beast Boy gave her a sad look. He hated when she thought of herself that way. That was not who she was.

“Anyway,” Raven continued, “it felt nice to find my cousins and for them to see me as their favorite hero.”

She waited for him to tell her how childish and petty that was, how selfish she was to be hiding her whole family for the sake of being a kid’s favorite. But she heard none of that.

“Then I have to tell them about all the times you saved our asses.”

“What?” Raven gave him a confused look.

“Come on.” He took her hand and went to the kids as they just left the big wheel a little dizzy. “Who wants ice cream?” he asked.

Once they got their ice cream –strawberry for Beast Boy and Erica, chocolate for James and blueberry for Raven – Beast Boy proceeded to tell the kids every time Raven saved the team. He started to sound like a bigger fan than the kids were.

Every time he finished one the kids would turned amazed at Raven and ask to confirm Beast Boy’s story.

They seemed to forget all about the games they were first excited about. Her aunt called to check on them and agreed to pick them up at the fair later on.

Erica noticed a costumes tent that offered face painting as well and asked if they could get one.

“What costume do you want?” Raven asked.

“Yours! ” cheered Erica.

“Me too!” followed James.

Raven was shocked. She thought at least James would want to dress as the changeling or maybe Robin.

Both of them ran to the tent to look for costumes their sizes.

“I’m gonna go pay for them,” said Beast Boy as he walked after them.

She waited for them until they came out wearing blue cloaks and running around her. “Look Raven, now I’m Raven!”

She smiled at them and then looked up to see Beast Boy grinning at her.

They met her aunt not so long after. “I left one Raven only to come back to find two more!”

The kids ran to hug their mother. “We’re helping Raven save the city!”

“Hey, I’m Beast Boy.” The changeling offered his hand.

“Hi, I’m Selena, Raven’s aunt, ” Her aunt replied as she shook his hand. “Raven talks a lot about you!”

“Really?” Beast Boy glanced at Raven to find her face flushed.

“Aunt Selena, aren’t you late for your subway?” Raven reminded her.

“Right, right, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for watching the kids! And it nice to meet you, Beast Boy.”

“Likewise.”

Beast Boy couldn’t miss the opportunity to tease her once her aunt left. “You told your aunt about me?”

“You’re a superhero. She already knows about you.”

“Yeah but it’s not the same as from you.”

She tried to stop herself from hitting him because of the stupid grin he was giving her but he was making it very hard.

Suddenly, Raven felt something funny on her nose. She touched it to find her nose a little wet. Then again on her cheek. She looked up to realize it was raining.

She expected Beast Boy to complain, or say he was right. Instead he said, “Want to go on the big wheel? I saved us tickets.”

“You don’t want to go home? It’s raining.”

“No, I don’t mind.”

The ride was quiet at first but then Raven spoke. “Thank you, for today. I admit, I wouldn’t have made it without you. It was... Fun.”

Beast Boy only smiled.

On their wedding night, during one of the many danced they shared as husband and wife, Beast Boy reminded her of the day they spent with her cousins who were now older but still as excited to see their older cousin married. "When we went to get the costumes they asked me to marry you and I promised them, I would.” Beast Boy told her.

“I guess we make great part-rents together.” He moved his hand closer to hers, gently squeezing it, hoping she wouldn’t take it away. She didn’t.

“So you’re saying you’re with me only because you promised my cousins you would marry me?”

She laughed at his attempt at mashing partners and parents together. Then with a thought to his second statement she replied softly, “I guess we do.”

Beast Boy leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead as they swayed to the soft music. “I always knew I’d be with you. After that day I only wanted you more.”

nb: if you liked this check my poolside fic for day 2

also my friend's fic for into the woods for day 3

(@bbraeweek21 )

#somehow maneged to make raven jealous inthis fic too #bbrae with kids has become my favorite thing #bbraeweek21 #fic #day5 #bbrae #bbrae fanfiction

[lucycola]

Hey could you do a Spock X reader where she knows nothing about Vulcans and like keeps accidentally doing taboo things e.g touching hands or touching his ears

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this! I accidentally made it gender neutral, because I forgot what pronouns, you used. I’m sorry! I hope you like it.

WARNINGS: Fluff, affection, ignorance of affection in Vulcan culture idk. Maybe Spock is slightly OOC but who cares. I took a little liberty of giving the reader a pinch of background.

To say you were oblivious was an understatement. You weren’t a complete idiot, or anything, just innocently scatterbrained. Perhaps that was the explanation why you didn’t flinch when every you were chastised for a mistake or given a strict order by your commanding officer. As a blue shirt, you fell under the command of the Enterprise’s first officer, and his reputation as a stony, unfeeling, authoritarian preceded him. You were never bothered by this. He was most terrifying, others noted, when Captain Kirk left him in charge when unable to take the chair. You were warned about him-to never cross him and always do exactly as he said. Spock was a hard-ass. He was handsome and perhaps at first you wondered, but it had been made clear to by others he wasn’t interested in anyone.

You had met more terrifying people. You had nine brothers and a strict, often unfair and bully of a father. Commander Spock was a piece of cake. It was in your nature to be gentle, welcoming, and comforting despite the constitution of your upbringing. It was your personality. You didn’t like to let people bring you down.

You were elated alone to be living your dream, anyway. You weren’t going to let the attitude of anyone around you affect your nature or happiness.

You obviously didn’t know anything about Vulcans either.

The first touch was accidental. It always is.

You never took the Vulcan to be clumsy, but on one occasion while discussing your current assignment in passing he dropped his holotape. You both reached  for it, and in a cliché manner brushed hands. While your boss pulled away, you did not and picked up the tape.

“Here ya go!” You cheerily patted the tape in his hand for good measure, “I’ll have that report in the morning like you’ve requested, sir.”

Bypassers gawked as you cheerily skipped away. Your commanding officer only quirked a brow and went on his way.

The next time was less on purpose and more out of your kindness as your commander internally lamented about his captain’s safety during an emergency situation. He had donned the chair and even while appearing composed and direct you had an eye for spotting worry in well kept men. In an brief moment you pressed your hand to his wrist and said softly, “He will be okay. You’ll make sure of it.”

He tensed under your touch and you removed your hand a smiled.

“Report to your station, Ensign,” he said in his usual tone, no hint of distaste or approval in his voice.

“Yes sir.”

The third time was even worse. Somehow you had been suckered to prompting Spock by Doctor McCoy into reporting to an impromptu physical. Confidentiality be damned, the Vulcan’s stress levels were unusually high and it was affecting his demeanor. You accidentally overheard the nurse and the doctor whispering something perhaps about pon farr happening again, but no it hadn’t been seven years yet. Whatever that was.

“I don’t think he’ll listen to me, but if you say it’s important, I’ll try.”

“You’re his favorite, so you’re my best bet.”

“Mister Spock doesn’t have favorites,” you laughed, “But I’ll do it anyway. Someone has to draw the shortest straw. I never mind it being me.”

“Thankyou, Ensign. And good luck.”

You skipped along to the your commander’s quarters. You had never been inside and only rarely had delivered your reports to him in person when requested. He couldn’t always come to you and that was understandable.

At the chime the door slid open and though it was subtle, your boss clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hello, Mister Spock,” you greeted, “Doctor McCoy-”

“I am aware of the doctor’s request. As it is not mandatory  I do not find it necessary to attend.”

It wasn’t like him to interrupt you. He was tense and though he stood perfectly erect like a statue there was a little shake in his right hand. Without thinking, you grasped it to still the quiver.

“Are you alright?”

Many would expect his to snatch it away, but he didn’t and stood there. If he was caught off guard, it wasn’t apparent. His expression was unmoving and his eye contact never wavered.

“I am fine, Ensign. Report back to your duties.”

“Doctor McCoy said it was important.”

“I am not here to entertain the doctor’s every illogical human whim.” He pulled his hand away, “There is no empirical evidence to suggest I am ill.”

“You’re shivering.” You put your hands on your hip and gave him the most mothering look you could muster.

“Multiple factors such as the natural low temperature of deep space can illicit such a reaction,” he retorted.

“It’s broiling in your cabin, Mister Spock. Only people with fevers do things like that.”

“Humans, Ensign. Humans,” he corrected, “I deduce you are not aware of Vulcan biology or customs.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” you requested softly, “How am I supposed to work efficiently under an ill commanding officer?”

The way you spoke nearly convinced him to do your bidding, but still he remained stubborn.

“I do not comprehend how that would deter your work efficiency.”

You grabbed his hand again, “I am going to worry myself to death if you really are ill and you’re just trying to act like you’re alright. That will keep me from working like I’m supposed to. Efficient crew needs an efficient captain.” You winked at him.

“But Captain Kirk-”

“It’s a metaphor, Mister Spock. Now please come so the doctor can stop paging me and I can work on my report concerning the Althenian plant’s healing properties and various uses from its sap.”

“I yield,” he said after a small beat and without releasing your hand, followed you to the medbay. More people inwardly gawked watching to drag him down the hall. His face was tense, albeit slightly amused.

After reaching your destination you waved him and the doctor off sweetly and made your way back to the lab. You heart wrapped around the thought of him being ill and you hid that worry ill. A little heat bloomed in your chest at his previous touch. You brushed it away. No, you told yourself.

The doctor was only a little surprised. His suspicions were confirmed.

“I had my doubts at first, Spock, but now I see it’s true.”

“Despite Vulcan’s telepathic abilities, I cannot automatically read your mind. Elaborate, Doctor.”

The doctor chucked, “That ensign is your favorite.”

“I do not understand.”

“Who else could have convinced you to come here to let me scan you? Probably not even Jim-”

“I am inclined to follow the captain’s every order.”

“You don’t let anyone touch you like that. Especially not for a long time. If I’m not mistaken you two were practically kiss-”

“That will be enough elaboration, doctor. Please proceed with your medical assessment, as I have much work to attend to.”

The doctor chuckled again. “It’s too bad I can’t tell with that one. They act like that towards everyone.”

“Everyone,” Spock repeated flatly although it was intended to be a question.

“Sweetest soul I’ve ever met. Lights up a room as soon as they enter it.”

“Indeed,” Spock nodded, familiar with the colloquialism.

The doctor’s eyebrows raised and he grinned, “I knew it.”

You of course were oblivious to all of this as you continued through your work, happy as a clam.

After some deliberation one of your coworkers decided to explain the delicacies of Vulcan culture after viewing a friendly hand grasp as a greeting between you and your commanding officer. You were elated to see his shivering had stopped and once again he tensed under the touch, but nodded his head at your greeting. You had blushed while doing so. It was sweet, but your coworker had to break it to you as they had before when warning you last time about him not being interested in anyone.

“Vulcans don’t like to be touched, you know,” they said to you, taking you aside.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re very sensitive to skin to skin contact. They guard themselves mostly, but hand touching is extremely taboo the way kissing in public or other sexual acts are.”

“You mean...” you blushed, “I’ve been--! I hope he’s not offended.”

“Normally he’s not afraid to explain things or clear up-“ you coworker coughed,”-unwanted affection. I’ve seen plenty girls get a talking down to.”

“What are you saying?”

“Perhaps he’s forcing himself to be polite.”

“Oh, I’ve got to apologize right away!”

You felt so stupid! How could you be so offensive to him or his culture? You should have read up on his customs before truly interacting with him. It would seem like a smart thing to do-but you were so lost to the world it was embarrassing.

You paused in front of his door for the first time in your life, afraid to speak to him.

The door open quickly and you stepped back, surprised. He had looked like he had been going to leave and you sheepishly smiled, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, sir. I need to speak to you.”

“Come inside.”

You blushed at the request, wringing your hands as you entered.

You turned to him and blurted, “I had no idea what I was doing, sir, I swear. Had I known that touching you was wrong I would stop. I’m so used to being touchy-feely on Earth I forgot that not everyone-”

“Ensign,” he said firmly.

“Yes?” you squeaked.

“Had those interactions provoked me I would have made it known. I should be the one offering an apology. I should have explained what such interactions mean on Vulcan before anyone else claimed the opportunity. I assume someone took the liberty of doing so.”

“Yessir. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.”

“Why not?’

“Because your actions did not provoke me, but precisely did the opposite.”

“What-what do you mean?” Your face was fully red and you obscured it with your hands. He let out a sound that was the closest Vulcan thing as a sigh and stepped closed to you.

He grasped your hands and lowered them from your face. His eyes were soft and the most vulnerable as you had every seen them.

He pressed his right hand that was shivering terribly to the side of your face. It stilled instantly.

“I am aware of your affection for me and I return the sentiment.”

You couldn’t find your voice and after a long moment of studying your features he leaned down to give you a kiss, warm and firm.

You gasped into his lips and pressed back.

He released you and you looked at him starry eyed.

“So it was true, what the doctor said, you said in a hushed tone.

Spock’s arms were around you gently, “Elaborate.”

“I am your favorite.”

“Affirmative.”

FIN

#spock #spock x reader #spock x gender neutral #startrek #star trek #tos #ask #request #mister spock #mr spock #s'chn t'gai spock #doctor mccoy #bones #leonard mccoy

[demonslayedher]

Any Kny character you've grown to love/appreciate more??

Thanks for waiting, Anon, I have been trying to really, really hard to narrow this down, but the answer remains: the vast majority of the cast. The only character I loved right away was Tanjiro and that love kept me watching, as with almost every new character I was like, "ugh, I hate this guy. Here I was, having fun being emotionally invested in a high quality anime, and this might ruin it for me." But then the instant I see a different side of their character, I'm like, "...Oh." To go into some examples...

Zenitsu: I could not stand him right away, I hate womanizers, and his conniptions would go on so long that they held up the story. But Gotouge/Ufotable strung me along perfectly, the first glimpse of Thunder Breath made me immediately pay attention and think, "oh, that was cool. I want to see more of that." Seeing him protect the box pretty firmly put him in the "I need to protect this child" box in my heart. And then the spider demon happens, and I'm sending desperate reaction messages to a friend like "NOOOOOO!!!! BABBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYY!!!!" And then he annoyed me all over again at the start of Functional Recovery, ahaha. It's hard to remember how annoyed I was because I'm such a Zen Stan now, and he was a very firm favorite of mine by the time I finished binging the anime up to the last couple episodes, which I waited for as they came out. Inosuke: He was one of the reasons I was curious about the series, I saw some promotional art and was super curious about Nezuko's muzzle (I was one of the people who thought it was some ancient scroll or something, haha) and the kid with the boar mask. The art I saw showed his face, and I assumed he'd be some kid with a cracking voice performed by a female seiyuu. As much as I love Matsuoka's performance now, initially, since I knew what his face looked like, I found it grossly off-putting the moment I heard it. Then every chaotic thing Inosuke did dug a deeper hole; I very quickly decided I hated him, especially when he started beating up on the kid I was starting to like. As his chaos subsided he just became a character I tolerated, and then this happened:

Images you can hear, am I right? This immediately flipped the "BABY" switch in my heart. It was also a lot of fun to understand the Inosuke memes I was seeing everywhere. So by the end of the anime, I loved, loved, loved, loved the Tanjiro/Zenitsu/Inosuke interactions and desperately wanted more (still didn't like how Zenitsu bothered Nezuko, though). I was so impatient for more, but the manga art looked disappointingly off-putting. I figured the anime was successful enough that there'd eventually be more of it, and I wanted to be patient, but then I poked around, read some spoilers, got back into Tumblr to look at fanart and memes, saw a spoiler image of Tanjiro affected by Muzan's poison and the binge-read began. (That's kind of a lie, but I'll get to that.) Let's back up a few episodes. There I was, having a great time, the guy who I forgot about from Episode 1 was back and haha, I guess everyone hates him, and the chick who I figured was going to be a medic who saves Zenitsu in the nick of time turned out to be savage, awesome. I was sending reactions to my friends who were ahead of me, and then we left off seeing the Pillars staring down Best Boy. And I...

Well. Uh. Here, I've dug up an old convo for you, my comments are in blue.

Immediately followed by a passionate vocal rant, which I have transcribed here:

“I feel like what happened was that the mangaka was sitting around with his assistants and was like, ‘welp, gotta make this whole cast of characters, they gotta be so-o-o-o many more levels of extreme than all the other characters I’ve had so far, which isn’t hard, because all of the background characters are cannon fodder and I’ve just gotta leave them all with black hair and no personality traits. So! Gotta go to the opposite of the spectrum with the BIG! POWERFUL! People so no-o-o-body can be normal.’ And so he and his assistants sat down, and they all wrote down just random words or traits, and them put ‘em all in a hat. And then for each character, they pulled out a few of them and said, ‘OK. We’re gonna put these things together, now we have a character.’ And he was probably also like, ‘Iiiiiiiiiiiii’ll flesh them out later. For now, they just need t’… be there, and make an impact. How do we make an impact? By making sure it’s super, super clear what their character traits are. Here, we’ll have this guy repeat the word //HADE//…. ////HA DEEE//// over and over and over… to show that he’s a /showy/ person. Because he /cares/ about that. And he //should// care because that is his character and that’s why he’s powerful.’ OH MY GOSH, it’s so dumb.”

......orz I feel like Genya looking back at how he acted at the end of the Final Selection. I'm sorry, Gotouge, I had not even encountered your love for these characters yet in your little alligator form. Nor had I encountered the yet unseen-sides of these traumatized dragons and tigers. ...*coughs* Um. So. I was pretty harsh.

So this was my mindset, I went into the manga not caring about most of these characters and just wanting more Kamaboko squad interactions and wanting to hurry up and catch up to the battle with Muzan. And it's worth stating that I didn't mean to read it at first. I encountered a few spoilers, and just wanted to look for the context surrounding those parts, and then hunt for the (non-existent) build-up to those parts, and so... uh.........

I read a lot of the manga out of order, and yeah, that did affect how much I cared about what was going on. I didn't actually properly process a lot of it until later re-reads. But to try to state some things simply about each Pillar:

Giyuu: He was just 'ok' to me for a long time, I could see the appeal for why people I knew were fangirling over him but he didn't do it for me. His soft spot for Tanjiro was indeed endearing, though, and I firmly liked him by the time chapter 200 came out and I was properly heartbroken on his behalf.

Shinobu: She was intriguing, and then I liked her as soon as I saw her savage side, she was one of the characters I went hunting for spoilers for.

Rengoku: That stare really put me off at first, but I fell for him over the process of Tanjiro falling for him. When I first finished the train arc I sat back and said, "wow! That's going to make for a good movie!" and then in psyching myself out for the movie several months in advance, I fell hook, line, and sinker and was totally excited for him each time I saw the trailers. And then the movie was *stunning* and I love him even more. Uzui: He was the Pillar I hated most upon first meeting them. I blame the repeated use of his catchphrase. But then when he let his hair down to sell the kiddos the change in design helped warm me up more to him, like, "oh, there was a human in there." It took a long time for him to become more interesting to me, and an uncharacteristically subtle journey to becoming a character I liked. I am currently getting more and more psyched out for him and eager to see how much more I'm going to like him with the shiny Ufotable treatment. Mitsuri: At first I didn't remember her name, I had code-named her as "Boobs." But I kinda had a feeling she was going to grow on me quickly, and I was right, she's one of my easy favorites now. Muichiro: Who? Oh yeah, that kid who always kinda fell to the wayside in my attention. I'd see a lot of Muichiro-themed blogs and hear a lot of little girls looking at merch and showing a clear favoritism of him, and I'd like always react like Muichiro and just be like, "...", and then when I read his major battles I was more emotionally invested in things going on concurrently with other characters, and I was still like, "...", and then two days ago I revisited a Muichiro scene and was suddenly like, "......OH!!! MUICHIRO!!!!!" Himejima: I never really hated Himejima, even if I found his first impression kind of wimpy (haha... oh, I was so wrong). I had a pretty easy acceptance of him too, so I would generally count him among characters I like, but if you were to ask me why, I'd draw a blank. It's kind of a weirdly mature, subdued appreciation for him rather than passionate fangirling. But weirdly when I was daydreaming the other day I found myself thinking, "if I had to marry someone in the KnY cast, it would be Himejima." So like, not a fiery romance, but I see him as my dependable, sturdy rock to grow old with??? What is up with you, sub-conscious?? Iguro: My interest in him rises and falls. Being a Mitsuri fan helped warm me up to his character in the first place, which was the emotional tie I needed since his backstory didn't grip me much (I found it a frustrating distraction while I was desperately reading weekly updates). Reading more subtle details about his character in the fanbooks has brought me around and made me more curious about him, like I'd really like to be a fly on the wall for the conversation he had with Uzui one day about their pasts.

Sanemi: Hahaha, wow. He was so unlikable in the beginning, wasn't he? His character design (yeah, the eyes) was really off-putting too. But then I got to know him and there was no going back, I got totally played. He's a character I'm pretty fond of now and one of the characters I've enjoyed delving into most in fanfic. To keep this answer from getting too long, for the vaaaaaast majority of the cast, I was initially like, "meh" or "OK" or "ew" but now am like, "EEEEEEEEE, I LOVE THIS TOTALLY RANDOM UNIMPORTANT SIDE CHARACTERRRRRRR" so you know... times change. And the more time I spend obsessed with Kimetsu no Yaiba, the more I like them all, so even the characters I'm lukewarm on will probably have their eventual days when they take over my heart and smash it.

#what do I even tag this? #it's not meta or nerdery #it's just me being a fangirl #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer

[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x reader - Captivated by you

Oooh Halloween??? How aboit a vampire reader x Hotch, and then meeting her for the first time? Maybe she protects them from something? ❤ - Anon❤️

Humans didn’t know what wondered about in the world, they were blind to the horrors that were about in the shadows. Their minds couldn’t process it, so, even if they did see something their minds refused to accept it. That, or it would drive them to insanity.

You were one of those things that hid in the shadow, you spent your day times working in a small bar for creatures like you, and night times wondering about looking for something to do.

The joys of not sleeping.

The joys of being a vampire.

Walking around the empty streets, people didn’t even give you a second look. After all, you looked no different to what they did. (H/C) hair, (E/C) eyes, absolutely nothing about you was different. The only difference was the coolness of you skin.

As you were walking by a quiet street, the sounds of a fight caught your attention. It was coming from a house, so you stopped and listened in, head tilted just the tiniest amount.

You could hear the sounds of grunting, someone being hit and things falling over.

The scent is what hit you, a sickly sweet scent much like your own.

“Oh for goodness sake.” You sighed.

Walking over to the house, you simply kicked the door down and stood there, eyes scanning around. The place was an absolute mess.

The sounds of the fight were coming from a different room so you begun to walk in.

“I suggest whoever is in here you release the human and back away.” You called.

“Or what?!” The voice snapped back.

A sly grin spread across your face as you followed the voice into a child’s bedroom. Thankfully there was no child in here but there was a man dressed in a suit, tape covering his mouth, he was pinned to a wall with another vampire holding him up by the throat.

“Get outta here!” The other vampire snarled, “he’s mine. Find your own.”

Smirking, you started to walk over.

“I’d much rather not think of humans as food, I’ll give you one more chance.”

The vampire snarled the closer you got, he tried to swing for him but you immediately dodged him and grabbed him by the shirt collar, making him immediately drop the human.

“Pray I never see you again.” You snarled.

The other vampire gulped, fear flashing in his red eyes as your crimson ones bore into his own, and with one quick flick of your wrist you tossed him out the window and listened to the sound of him running away.

Turning back to the human, who’s eyes flashed with fear, you crouched before him and reached out, stopping as soon as he flinched.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You said gently, then pointed to the tape, “may I?”

You waited until the man nodded before smiling softly and nodding back.

“This will hurt a little.”

In one quick motion you ripped the tape from his mouth and he was quickly rubbing the sore area.

“Much better, may I offer you some help up?”

You stood and held you hand, the man carefully placed his hand in your and you could tell he was shaking. You could hear his heart beating frantically.

“What... how...?” The man stuttered.

You chuckled lightly and carefully led him to the kitchen, making him a glass of water before standing opposite to him.

“I’m sure you have many questions, all of which I can answer. First, may I introduce myself. (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Aaron Hotchner...” he muttered.

“Pleasure to meet you Aaron.”

He nodded in response and you offered him a comforting smile but he quickly averted his gaze making you sigh.

“I know what you’re thinking, what was he? What am I? What’s going on? I’ll try explain it simply to you. He was a vampire, such like myself. Though, I have no interest in hurting humans.”

There was a thick silence in the air, it was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“So... all the stories are true...?”

“Indeed. Though we aren’t all like we seem.”

He nodded again.

“Thank you...”

“You are much welcome, I shall leave you be. And I shall pay for all the damages. Should you need me simply call, I’ve left my number on your side. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

With that, you left. You assumed he would’ve forgotten or blocked the memory out. After all, most of them did.

It was only a week later when you got a text from Aaron asking you some questions which you more than happily answered, and another few the following day.

That’s how it started, he simply asked questions and when he was comfortable enough with the idea he asked to meet you in person so you invited him over bar, though not without warning him of the things in there.

He didn’t seem to bothered and agreed to come, so you told him when t was quieter and surely enough he turnt up.

Aaron carefully pushed the door open and closed it, drawing the attention of a few werewolves in the corner but they went back to what they were doing.

“Afternoon.” You greeted with a smile.

“Hey.” He smiled back.

Aaron took a seat on the barstool and you made him a drink, sliding it over then made one for yourself and stood in front of him.

“Why the sudden visit?” You asked.

Aaron shrugged looking at his drink with suspicion which made you laughed before he took a sip and set it down.

“Just curious as to what vampires do with their day I suppose.”

You laughed a little louder and shook your head in amusement.

“We live life’s too, have to pay the bills somehow.”

Aaron laughed at this and smiled brightly.

“In all honestly I just wanted to see you.”

You smiled warmly at how his cheeks flushed as he spoke.

“Well, all you need to do is stop by, you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you (Y/N).”

He sipped is drink while you tended to others in there, his eyes never once leaving your frame. He was so curious and so captivated by you, he almost forgot you weren’t human, but that didn’t scare him anymore

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine

[k-pop-imagines]

Protector | Chapter 10

Protector Masterlist 

Summary: Yesterday’s events have your thoughts wildly racing through your brain and if that wasn’t enough, your father brings back someone you never wanted to see again. 

Word Count: 2472 A/N: So, ummm, it’s been a year, I know. But I’ve recently gotten quite a lot of messages asking me to update because the cliffhanger was a really mean move on my part, I’m sorry! Either way, happy holidays to everyone and I hope you enjoy this small gift from me!  - Admin Soomi Warnings: / 

When you woke up the next morning, your head felt like it was going to explode. The night hadn’t been exactly  restful, you just couldn’t seem to fall asleep after yesterday’s events. Your thoughts kept going back and forth between your current life situation trapped as the heir to your father’s business and the tension between you and your bodyguard that had made itself very clear. Donghae was a mystery to you. If that was even his real name. It wasn’t like you actually knew anything about that man. How old was he? Where did he come from? Did he have family? All you knew was that he was an arrogant ass with a lot of strength and wits despite not looking like it. He had a way of constantly getting on your nerves but still gave you a weird sense of comfort. Why did you end up with this strange attraction towards him that was impossible to deny at this point? 

You weren’t even sure what kind of attraction this was. Was it platonic? For the first time in ages, it seemed like someone genuinely cared about you. You felt like you could trust him and with him being your bodyguard, he naturally knew a variety of your secrets. He’d seen different sides of you. Even though you argued and bantered a lot, he knew when to draw the line. It had begun to feel like a friendship but was there more? Did you want more? Something else? There was some kind of sexual attraction as well, that was obvious to you. He was attractive, that was a fact. You hated to admit it, but your thoughts couldn’t help but wander to indecent things at the memory of how his abs felt under your touch. Yous shook your head in annoyance. No, not now. If you kept thinking about it, you wouldn’t be able to keep a composed demeanor around him anymore. Was there romantic attraction as well? Maybe. All you knew was that your heart skipped a beat when you thought back to how you had almost kissed yesterday. And that you wished you had actually kissed. Maybe all of these factors somehow played into it. Whatever it was, thinking about it too much and trying to find a word for it was driving you crazy. 

The maid that knocked and asked to enter your room to serve you a fresh cup of tea was a welcome distraction from your racing thoughts. Not so welcome was the message from your father that she brought. I’m expecting you in the entrance hall in 30 minutes, dress nicely and behave for once.    The second you read his note, you decided that you would absolutely not behave, whatever it was that he had planned for you. You had a bad feeling about what was to come. For a few moments, you also contemplated simply putting on sweatpants as your father hadn’t specified what occasion to dress nicely for, but that would have been overkill. Donghae greeted you right outside your door with a lazy wave and as much as your mind wanted to go back to yesterday’s events, you were more occupied with the look on his face. He didn’t give you the usual smirk, you didn’t even get any playful remarks about your hairstyle of choice, instead he seemed quiet. Too quiet. “What’s up with you this morning? Aren’t you going to tell me that I look like a racoon because of the bags under my eyes?” A small smile threatened to form on his lips but it was quickly washed away by the sigh leaving his mouth. “You look more like a panda because the rest of your face is awfully pale but I won’t be making any comments. You’ll have enough trouble today, trust me. You’re not going to like what your father has in store for you. And neither will I.” The last part was muttered under his breath and you almost missed it. You didn’t even need to ask your bodyguard what exactly he was talking about as you had already reached the entrance of the mansion and were greeted by the sight of the one person you had never ever wanted to see again. Hwang Kyuseok. The man your father apparently still wanted you to marry. “Okay, so here’s the plan. I’m going to pretend to collapse, you carry me to our physician and bribe him to pronounce me dead. Then you help me escape to Peru where I can start a new life under a new name. How does that sound?”, you whispered to Donghae but he put a hand on your lower back to gently lead you forward. “Pretty good except for the part where I apparently have enough money to bribe Dr. Choi.” “It doesn’t have to be money, you could-” just as you were about to present Donghae with the alternative of selling his body, Kyuseok spotted you. “Well, if it isn’t my lovely wife. I haven’t seen you ever since that incident but you seem as lively as ever,” the young man said with the most disgusting grin you had ever seen a human being produce as he slowly walked towards you. “I don’t remember us getting married let alone engaged so do not call me your wife.” “Did I not tell you to behave?” Your father had appeared behind Kyuseok and went to stand next to him. “You’ll be getting married next week, so you might want to get used to being called his wife.” “I have told you plenty of times that you do not get to marry me to a stranger. I refuse. I will not be marrying him.” “And I have told you plenty of times that I simply do not care. You’ve been acting like a brat recently, so I contacted Mr. Hwang and he agreed to proceed with the marriage as soon as possible. Maybe this will put some sense into you. You don’t have a choice in this matter.” Kyuseok is a respectable young man and he knows how to handle a woman who is acting up and forgot where her place is.” Your father left and your heart sank. He was really doing this. He was 100% serious and no matter how hard you tried to fight back, it was useless. Maybe you could really escape and move to the other end of the world. But knowing your father’s influence and contacts, he would catch you before you could even leave the city. You’d go along with it for now but there was no way you’d accept this. If everything failed, you’d at least make sure to make this marriage a living hell for your husband. 

Kyuseok stood in front of you and took your hand, earning him a death stare from Donghae that you didn’t notice, as you were too occupied with keeping yourself from lashing out. “Let’s go eat breakfast, my love.” 

------

“Where would you like to go for our honeymoon?” Breakfast had been quiet so far, at least on your part. Kyuseok had bombarded you with his ideas for the wedding and you found out that essentially everything had been planned already. Not only were you forced into this, you didn’t even get any say in what your wedding would look like. Even the wedding dress had already been chosen. “You’re asking my opinion? Very considerate. Paris sounds good.” “A very classic choice. And very romantic.” “Exactly. Let’s visit the catacombs, maybe I can lose you in there. Or I can just yeet myself off the Eiffel Tower when you’re not looking.” You heard a snicker from Donghae, who had silently been standing in the corner of the room and tried to cover up his mishap by clearing his throat. Kyuseok simply ignored you. “Prague or Madrid would also be lovely places to visit but Paris it is. We should also start conceiving children as soon as possible to secure a heir to our families' businesses. You almost choked on your omelette. “Yeah, that is not happening. Marrying you is bad enough but this is where I draw the line. I will not let you anywhere near me.” He sighed. “I really don’t blame your father for wanting you to move in with us right after the wedding. You are indeed quite a handful. But as I said before, I am sure I can tame you.” “Good luck with that. You won’t tame me unless I develop Stockholm syndrome.” “You’re feisty.” “And you’re a creep. Excuse me for a second.” You quickly left the room, headed for nowhere in particular, just anywhere as far away as possible. It felt kind of ironic when, after a few minutes of mindlessly wandering the halls, you laid eyes on a small storage room and followed your instinct to hide in it. Just in case Kyuseok had been following you. You were physically shaking from the emotions building up inside of you. Anger, frustration, helplessness, panic. You name it. You sank to the floor and let silent tears run down your cheeks. 

Maybe you should really just run away. Not like your father would let you. Even if you escaped at night, knowing that most of the night guards regularly slept during their shifts, there was no doubt your father’s men would find you. And if they didn’t, he would send Donghae, and there was nowhere you could hide from him. He knew you too well by now. 

The door to your hiding spot opened a creak. Speaking of the devil. 

Donghae fully opened the door, took one look at your crying form and opted to sit on the floor right next to you after closing the door again for some privacy. Of course he’d find you. Not that it bothered you. “I don’t think I’d survive one week being married to that weirdo,” you complained. “I don’t think he’d survive even one week. You’re gonna kill him after three days. Maximum.” A dry chuckle escaped your lips. “Can you show me how to make it look like an accident?” “I’ll lend you one of my handbooks.” Silence settled between the two of you for a few seconds while you tried to dry your tears. It all seemed hopeless. “What will you do once I’ve married him? I doubt Kyuseok will have you come with me to his mansion. That man gives you that death stare like every 20 minutes. I bet it’s because you’re more handsome than him.” “I genuinely don’t know. Maybe your father will have me as his own bodyguard. Whatever will happen, believe me when I say that I am dreading it as much as you are.” “You’re a bodyguard...if anything, you should be glad this job is over and you could move on to a better paying client. I’ve seen what my father pays you and sometimes I’m surprised you’re still here.” “You make me seem like a heartless monster. I care a lot more than you may think. That’s why I’m still here.” You raised an eyebrow. “How much?” “What?” “How much do you care?” Instead of answering, Donghae proceeded to get up. He dusted off his clothes and held out his hand for you to take. He pulled you up and reached for the doorknob. “You didn’t answer my question. How much do you care?”, you pushed for a reaction. “Way more than I should”, he muttered under his breath, avoiding your eyes. He went to turn the doorknob but you put your hand on top of his to stop him. Your other hand reached up to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer so your faces were mere inches apart. “Then tell me...do you care enough to kiss me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your breath hot on his skin. 

Donghae didn’t need to be asked twice. His free hand cupped your face as he leaned in and his lips found yours. They were so much softer than you could have ever imagined. He was careful at first, but quickly deepened the kiss when you didn’t back away. It lasted only a few seconds yet felt like an eternity. You hated how your first intent was to tease him with your question and see his reaction but the kiss just proved that, just like him, you cared way too much. You still didn’t know what exactly those feelings were that drew you to him but it just felt...right. Like it was meant to be. 

Donghae slowly pulled away from the kiss and took your hands in his. “I don’t know why but the thought of him being with you, touching you, kissing you...it makes me furious. It makes me want to vomit. I can’t stand it.” “Then help me get out of this somehow. If you can. Please.” His heart felt like it was getting torn apart when you looked at him with pleading eyes that were still puffy from crying. He wanted nothing more than to help you, he really did. “I’ll try to figure something out but I can’t promise anything.” For a second, you saw a hint of guilt flash in his eyes. You thought it was because of his loyalty to your father. He’d most likely have to betray him if he wanted to support you, it’d put his life on the line as well. Little did you know, Donghae’s thoughts were conflicted for a completely different reason. 

---

“There will be a wedding ceremony a week from now. Not only will our target family be attending but also the famous Hwang family. If we attack then, it’ll be like killing two birds with one stone,” Donghae reported. “That’s fantastically convenient. Do you know where the wedding will be held? If not, find out and send us the layout of the place. We’ll provide you with a detailed plan 24 hours before the event.” “I’ll make sure to get as much information as possible.” “Great, you’re dismissed.” After finishing the phone call, Donghae felt like punching a wall. Guilt flooded his mind. He had lied to you, this whole time. He had put on an act, played the perfect, sassy, but loveable bodyguard. He had faked his undying loyalty. Yet he hadn’t been able to lie about his feelings. That kiss, it had been nothing but the truth. He never meant for things to develop the way they did. And now he was stuck in this dilemma. He had to follow orders, your family had to be taken down but couldn’t bear to see you go down with your father. You had nothing to do with this. He had to figure something out and he’d be damned if he couldn’t come up with a solution.

#super junior imagine #donghae x reader #donghae imagine #super junior x reader #kpop #k-pop #super junior fanfiction #donghae fanfiction #lee donghae #au

[moiraineswife]

Refreshing as a Highstorm - A Stormlight Fic

Hey I inflicted this on my ao3 people last night and forgot about y’all! Inexcusable!! So here we are. 

DO NOT PROCEED IF U HAVE NOT READ RHYTHM OF WAR. 

you’ve read it? okay fabulous - u may proceed? 

you have not? WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE? LEAVE. NOW. 

Title: Refreshing as a Highstorm

Summary:  Set some time after Rhythm of War. Jasnah decides it's time to come out as ace to Wit, and she does so in typical Jasnah fashion. He takes it in typical Wit fashion - in stride. They're soft and I'm emotional. Everyone wins. Jasnah POV. Minor warning for mentions of past acephobia. 

Teaser: “Wit,” she said, tone brisk and firm, “We need to talk about sex.”

For a moment she saw surprise tinge his sharp features. Then he blinked and smoothed it away.

“What?” he said, his tone light, “Have I been doing it wrong all these years and no one has thought to tell me until now?”

Link: ao3

Commission Link: Have me write other cosmere characters 

Jasnah settled down on Wit’s bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. He did have a heart. The organ, at least.

That had surprised her the first time they had done this. Though in many ways Wit was deeply human, he was also alien.

There was a depth to him, a knowledge that came only from the thousands of years he had been alive, stalking her planet, and more besides.

At times that daunted her. Looking into his eyes could sometimes feel like looking into an abyss that held the weight of more knowledge than could ever be contained in all the books on Roshar.

History, history from a thousand worlds given life. And he was in her bed at this very moment peering down at her with a haze of sleepy pleasure. That gave her a little thrill of pride and excitement.

Alien and ancient or otherwise, he liked to hold her once they had finished. She had the sense that he craved the tenderness and the humanity of it, to end an act that had always seemed so primal to her with a distinctly human, civilised note.

She didn’t protest. Initially she hadn’t wanted it. It had felt like wasted time. The world was ending and she was cuddling? But, more recently, she had come to acknowledge the benefits of a little rest, of time where she was allowed to simply be. To exist, rather than fighting tooth and nail for each breath.

She suspected that was part of why Wit insisted on it. He kept doing things like that. Making excuses to feed her, or force her to take a break and step away from her work for a moment.

A part of her had balked at that at first, seeing it as a subtle way of him trying to control her. She had shut those fears down. It was not about control, it was about care. And she could let herself be cared for. Sometimes.

Wit stroked his fingers idly through her hair, unbound, pooling around her like a swath of night. Then he threaded their fingers together, deliberately choosing her safehand for the purpose.

He often did things like that, trying to entice or excite her. She worried he was beginning to see it as some sort of challenge or game she was luring him into.

She sighed.

The time had come to speak to him about this. In truth, the time had probably long ago. But, well, she was human. She could admit to a little fear.

In the chaos of everything that had happened over the last year, Wit had been a flurry of his own kind. But it was a kind that felt good rather than terrifying and she...Well she did not have an excellent history with romantic partners and she had feared to lose this.

The time had come, however, when not saying something would do more harm, so she pushed herself up, back against the headboard of the bed, drawing her dressing gown more firmly around herself.

Wit shifted lazily, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on an elbow to look at her.

“Wit,” she said, tone brisk and firm, “We need to talk about sex.”

For a moment she saw surprise tinge his sharp features. Then he blinked and smoothed it away.

“What?” he said, his tone light, “Have I been doing it wrong all these years and no one has thought to tell me until now?”

She eyed him. Each conversation was like a dance, a fight, testing, seeking, pushing one another. She enjoyed it, normally, but tonight...Tonight she just wanted to be open, and honest. No games.

“No,” she said, simply, “You were perfectly satisfactory.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her and she grimaced slightly. That..was probably not the most tactful thing she’d ever said to a partner.

Fortunately he just laughed and kissed her hand, “Jasnah, my dear, you can be wonderfully refreshing at times,” he said.

“As refreshing as a highstorm, you mean?” she said, bluntly, and he smiled again, eyes twinkling.

“Roshar would not have life without them,” he said, lightly.

She sighed again, more heavily this time, and Wit frowned slightly as she rubbed her temples. His expression shifted, and he sat up straighter.

“Jasnah?” he said, a faint note of worry tinging his words for the first time, “Is everything alright?”

“Fine,” she said, waving a vague hand, “It’s still difficult to speak about this. I’ve done it several times in the past, yet it never seems to get any easier. Particularly if one attempts to approach it with any measure of delicacy.”

“Then don’t,” he said simply, taking her hand, “Approach it like the highstorm that you are, Jasnah. I assure you I’ve survived worse.”

She took a deep breath and, not looking at him, said quietly, “I don’t need sex, Wit.”

He frowned slightly, and she braced herself for the quip.

“Don’t need it for what, my dear? For life? Technically none of us needs it, in the basest of terms. We don’t theoretically need wine, either, to survive. But to live? I consider it a necessity.”

“I don’t,” she murmured, and her voice seemed to strangle itself, becoming small.

She hated that, and forced it back to its typical tone and volume with effort as she cleared her throat and continued.

“I don’t need it to feel satisfied with life. I don’t need it to feel satisfied or fulfilled in a relationship. It is not something I have ever found myself wanting, as most other people seem to.”

She drew her knees up to her chest, holding them. A part of her recognised that she did this as a defence mechanism, that it was a very obvious tell that she felt afraid and insecure, which she hated feeling, and hated telegraphing even more. But she couldn’t help it. In that moment, not looking at him, waiting for the storm wall to hit, she needed the comfort it brought her.

Wit moved beside her, sitting up straight, facing her, and when she looked up at him she saw that his face was uncharacteristically serious. He reached out and gently took both of her hands in his. She let him, and he seemed deeply relieved by that. Far too relieved in fact.

She frowned at him as he said, in a tone she had never heard from him before, serious and direct, “Jasnah, you haven’t felt as though I’ve ever-”

“No,” she interrupted him quickly, suddenly understanding what he was worried about.

Then she gave him a flat look that clearly said, ‘do you truly think you could pressure me into doing anything like that?’

The tension in his posture broke and he laughed, then, and said, “You are truly wonderful, Jasnah. I don’t think I’ve seen such a fabulous glare for centuries now. I must study it thoroughly at a later date so as to be able to properly master it when needed.”

She smiled again, some of her own tension bleeding away, though not all.

He scooted over to sit beside her, back against the headboard, legs stretched out comfortably in front of him.

She waited for him to settle himself then said, “This isn’t a problem for you? In our relationship?”

“No,” he said, and though his tone was lighter than it had been earlier, it took on that uncharacteristic serious cast once more for her.

“You surprised me, Jasnah Kholin. You were something on this planet I never expected, and have been delightful in many ways. I won’t pretend that I haven’t enjoyed our physical diversions. But you, and indeed this budding partnership, are worth more to me than the pleasure I can derive from our bodies.”

She nodded absently, then frowned as she realised that he seemed to be perfectly content to continue with her, without question or hesitation.

She had been about to assure him that she was perfectly happy to continue having sex with him, for him. She was not repulsed by it, if she had she would certainly never have entertained it with him. But she had expected to make this point in rebuttal of his disappointment or withdrawal. And he hadn’t done either, which momentarily threw her.

She knew her worth. And she knew that her value as a partner was indeed worth more than the use someone might find for her body.

Other partners had not exactly shared that sentiment in the past.

However fond they had been of her, her disinterest in sex had always put them off. Even if they did not react initially poorly, over time they became frustrated and disappointed, as though they had secretly hoped that she might make an exception for them.

They seemed to take it as a personal slight that she didn’t think about having sex with them every waking moment.

She had never had either the time or the patience for that nonsense, and each time she had walked away without regret. But she would have been lying if she claimed that it hadn’t hurt her, hadn’t made her feel lonely, and alien, even broken, when she’d been younger.

Wit was taking this too well, and she narrowed her eyes slightly at him, trying to determine his angle.

He did not seem the type of man who would take it as a personal insult that she did not crave sex with him. He was arrogant, and he had an ego, but it was of an entirely different sort.

Still, she hadn’t expected his reaction to be, so, well, absent. He was looking at her with the same bright eyes he always did, the same thinly veiled eagerness to see what their companionship would bring, the same intensity and hunger that had simmered between them this past year.

Wit seemed to read her confusion and suspicion in her face, for he reached out and took her hand, her free hand, and squeezed it.

“You are not the first person I’ve met who feels this way, Jasnah,” he said gently. “Indeed, you are not the second, third, or fourth person, either. We would have to climb rather high up the number scale, if you wish to truly and accurately plot yourself.”

“Really?” she said, before she could stop herself.

Logically she knew that she couldn’t be the only person who felt this way. Particularly when one factored in the sheer number of people Wit had known in his life. Statistically it was highly likely that he’d met someone else like her before.

The logic, however, did not prevent the sudden rush of warm emotion at hearing, at knowing, that she was not alone.

Wit smiled at her. A different smile than any she had seen before.

This was the smile of a man who knew the importance of knowledge, the emotion it could bring when used to connect, rather than destroy.

The smile of someone who used that knowledge to bring hope and comfort to people; to bring them together, and help them Connect across realms and ages.

The smile of someone who still found simple joy in using the wealth of his vast experience to bring a simple joy to a frightened girl who had spent so long afraid that she was alone and unlovable.

He squeezed her hands and nodded. Absurdly, she felt her throat tighten, and had to raise her other hand to wipe at her eyes as she felt tears bud in them. Some instinct urged her to pull away from Wit, to not let him see her emotion, the power he had over her with the truth he had just given her.

But she was learning to fight those instincts, and so she turned to him, full on, and let him see her tears, let him see her smile, let him see what a gift he had given her today.

Wit smiled back, warm and genuine, and stayed quiet, with obvious effort, allowing her to have her moment.

A gloryspren winked into existence above her head, and for once she let it manifest in the physical realm, smiling up at it.

After a moment she pulled herself together, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes, returning to business.

“Have you ever been in a relationship with someone like me, though?” she asked him, tone direct once more.

“No,” he admitted gently, then added, with typical levity, “But I’ve never been tap dancing with a chull, either, and I’d very much like to try that as well. The ability to continue providing me with new experiences even after all this time is one of the cosmere’s greatest gifts and joys, Jasnah.”

She eyed him, judging his sincerity. Somehow, the man sitting there with a twinkle in his eye, talking about tap dancing chulls, seemed more sincere than the others who had initially told her the same, with serious tones, and sombre expressions, only to accuse her of being cold and inhuman some months later.

She eyed him again and he raised an eyebrow at her.

She sighed and admitted, “You’re taking this too well.”

A faint blush stained her cheeks at that and she turned away. It felt so vulnerable to admit that, to admit that she expected him to hurt her. More vulnerable even than it had felt to admit the thing she expected him to use as a weapon against her.

“Jasnah,” he said, quietly, “I won’t pretend that I haven’t enjoyed that aspect of our relationship. You are a beautiful, alluring woman. And for all that you have no inclination towards it yourself, rather talented."

She smirked a little at that. As with most things, she had felt that if she was going to engage in it she may as well at least attain some competence.

“But it was a means to an end, my dear. Pleasure, indeed, but also intimacy, and closeness with you. That is what I truly want.

“I’ve had plenty of sex in my life, Jasnah, I’m quite sure I can survive a few decades without it for a creature as truly incredible as yourself. You are the unique and wonderful experience Roshar has gifted me with. What a fool I would be to throw that aside for the sake of sex.”

"Others in the past have not been as...discerning," she said drily.

"Well, as you yourself are fond of noting, dearest, other people can often be idiots," he said lightly. "Sex is wonderful. A true masterstroke by the cosmere to encourage us all to keep producing children. But I'm fairly sure its lack won't be added to the list of things that have killed me any time soon."

She studied him, so sincere, so lighthearted, then said, bluntly, “I’m not asking you to become celibate for me, Wit. We can have sex again, if you wish.”

He blinked at her, digesting that, then he said curiously, “Do you enjoy it?”

There were no strings to the question. They did not do that with one another, as was openly established early on in their relationship. Questions were welcomed, by both parties, whatever their content, the intent assumed always to be genuine.

She considered the question, truly considered it.

With him, and with a few others, she had engaged in sex because her partner had desired it, and she had wanted to do something for them.

Rather as she might prepare a meal she was not altogether fond of, but which she knew was their favourite. If she prepared meals.

“Yes,” she said, finally, “It is pleasurable for me, when done correctly,” she added with a frown of irritation.

In her experience, that was certainly not always the case. Wit, for all his flaws, could never be accused of being stingy with the attention he gave her. In every aspect of their relationship.

"As I imagine it can be for most people. Though likely not as intense and consuming as it is for others, I’ve gathered. And then there’s of course the fact that-”

She broke off, actually blushing noticeably for the first time in approximately a decade.

Wit’s face split into a wide, almost wicked grin.

“Come now, Jasnah," he said, waggling a finger at him, "A highstorm does not hold back its rains, you should not hold back your insightful and unique pearls of wisdom on the human condition. Least of all in my presence. I simply won’t have it,” he said, prodding her with a finger in a spot that he knew she was ticklish.

She actually growled at him, and he stopped at once, though he did laugh as he did so. Insufferable bastard.

She sighed and said, “Sex is pleasurable, but it’s not a pleasure that I can’t achieve myself more easily, with much less mess and fuss, and a good deal less complex emotional baggage attached.”

Wit laughed again at that, loud and full, and she found herself smiling in spite of herself.

Knowing he would enjoy it, she continued, layering an analogy onto the idea.

“It’s rather like attending a feast when you’re already full. The food still tastes nice, even if you didn’t particularly want it. But wouldn’t it have been far simpler, faster, and less likely to cause a headache had you simply taken a private meal in your chambers and skipped the fuss?”

As she had hoped, that caused him to laugh harder. Wit enjoyed an apt metaphor, particularly if it was original. Or as original as it could be to someone with his life experience.

He leaned in and gently kissed her temple, “You are a true delight, Jasnah. A highstorm that invests me with such joy and wonder, even as it attempts to bludgeon me with the force of its will.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as he coaxed her back down into a more relaxed posture, the two of them lying down once more, their legs lazily entwined, his fingers in her hair again.

“Too far?” he asked, lightly, as she settled back into place.

Wit liked flowery language, in all areas of life, but particularly in complimenting her.

She'd made the mistake of telling him, flatly, that it was nauseating.

He'd spent a solid month afterwards composing the most outrageous quips and lines of flattery, which had included multiple pieces of poetry sprung on her without warning.

Finally losing patience, she had soulcast all six pages of the final one into crystal and thrown it at him.

He had laughed, and they had come to an agreement regarding a comfortable level of tolerable flirtation and flattery from him.

“You’re a faint breeze away from ending up at the bottom of a chasm,” she told him flatly.

He smiled, “You may need to think of something with more threat to it, my dear,” he said. “You know perfectly well that if a faint breeze did topple my hapless person into a chasm I’d only crawl out of it a day later far more annoying than when I’d plunged in.”

“Hm, with a tap dancing chull in tow, no doubt” she deadpanned in response, resting her head against his chest once more.

She felt the laugh vibrate through his ribs this time. It was a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one.

He sobered again a moment later and said, “I’ll need to leave again, in the next few days. There’s somewhere else I must be. Something that proves even more irresistible than your delicious tongue, my dear.”

She nodded without comment. He did this, disappearing for sometimes weeks at a time. He had done it even when he’d acted as Elhokar’s Wit, and she’d had no illusions at all that she would be able to dissuade him of it. He always came back, typically just before she truly needed him. That was enough. She'd long since given up asking where he went.

She did appreciate that he’d started giving her some warning that he was going to vanish on her, however.

“I would like to discuss this further when I return,” he said, thoughtfully, fingers still carding absently through her hair, “I understand, and appreciate, your willingness to continue experiencing the true wonders my tongue can perform in physical matters, as well as mental,” she rolled her eyes, but he pressed on, apparently without noticing, “But I would like to have an open conversation, establish some rules, some tweaks to our relationship going forwards to allow it to blossom as it may.”

She smiled against him, “That would be wise, and appreciated,” she said slowly.

It still hadn't sunk in that he was so...Accepting of this. People usually had a broad range of reactions to her. Acceptance was rarely one of them.

Then, with more reluctance than she ever thought she would feel doing so, she pushed herself out of his arms and stood.

“I have work that must be attended to tonight, casualty reports from the latest battle, maps I wish to review before the strategy conference in the morning,” she said, adjusting her robe.

Wit propped himself up in bed and eyed her. She knew that he thought she should sleep, that she worked herself too long, and too hard. He had warned her about the dangers of relying on Investiture to push her body beyond its natural capabilities. Indeed, she had chided several of the younger Radiants with similar warnings, and forced them to rest.

But for herself? This had been her burden to bear for almost twenty years, now. She had already given so much of herself to it, and felt that it was still not enough, that this was a piece of advice she found it difficult to take.

He opened his mouth, and she expected him to protest, to urge her to return to bed with him, perhaps with some crass quip. Instead, he said, “How can I help?”

She smiled, and asked if he would fetch her copies of the maps from the room they used for study and preparation.

He pressed a small kiss to her cheek before moving off to do as she’d requested. Watching him go, she felt a faint stir of warmth inside her. Rather like the feeling she had when drawing in Stormlight.

The world was ending. They were embroiled in the midst of a centuries long war with the destructive embodiment of hatred, bent on their capitulation and eventually destruction. But in that moment, she allowed herself to be human, to be vulnerable, and open, and flawed.

In that moment, Jasnah allowed herself to be cared for. She allowed herself to be wanted, in a way she never truly believed she could be. She allowed herself to remember why they fought, why she had given so much of herself to saving this world. She allowed herself to live, for just a moment, before she returned to the fight.

***

A/N: Look I didn’t expect this ship to happen to me either but hey! That’s just how life works in the year of or lord brandon sanderson 2020 so what can you do??????? He makes Jasnah happy and evidently that’s good enough for the rat brain. Except more fic at a later date bc I have 0 self control. 

#jasnah kholin #hoid #rhythm of war #rhythm of war spoilers #stormlight archive #jasnah/hoid #jasnah/hoid fic #i cant think of a good ship name everything sounds Bad when u smoosh #might have to go for something esoteric. i'll think abt it #for now this'll have to do #tsa #tsa fic #my fic #taryn is COMPROMISED #long post #text post tag #have at it y'all

[cloudrecession]

My Lonely Heart Calls 

Wei Wuxian needs a distraction from everything Yanli's wedding makes him feel. Luckily, he finds a certain handsome stranger among the guests.

~3600 words | AO3 Link | modern AU

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Wei Wuxian felt the exact moment he’d had too much to drink. He’d made it through the ceremony alright, mostly, but everyone teared up at weddings, so it was fine, and he’d made it through Yanli’s first dance with her husband, and even his own dance with her. But now, as he finished his he-forgot-to-count-th glass of wine, he felt the threat of crying in earnest building in his chest. Yanli was so happy, and so beautiful, and she was dancing with Jin Zixuan, who didn’t deserve her, but he made her happy so maybe he did, and Yanli deserved to be this happy her whole life, and--

Wei Wuxian put his glass down. No. He needed a distraction. He’d expected that he’d have MianMian to hang around with, she was always good for a laugh when Wei Wuxian had to be around Jin Zixuan, but she’d had the audacity to bring a date. Nie Huaisang hadn’t come at all, which Wei Wuxian found to be a bit of a slight even knowing that Huaisang’s brother had shipped him off to some corporate boot camp halfway across the country that he couldn’t get out of.

There was always Jiang Cheng, who stood making pleasantries with his mother’s family and barely concealing his pained expression. But Jiang Cheng would probably just yell at him for drinking.

Someone else, then. There had to be someone fun on their own in this crowd. Any of Zixuan’s family were right out. That narrowed the selection significantly, given how many half-siblings and cousins he had. It took Wei Wuxian a long moment to spot his target-- a particularly handsome man in a sharp but simple suit standing at the back of the reception hall, nursing a glass of what looked to be plain water-- perhaps he, too, had already drank too much, and the two of them could commiserate.

Wei Wuxian knew of the man vaguely. He was Zixuan’s brother’s definitely-not-boyfriend’s brother. Yanli never participated in such gossip, but MianMian did with gusto, and Jin Guangyao’s relationship status was always a topic of interest. So Wei Wuxian knew that this was Lan Wangji, the younger brother of Lan Xichen, but not much else. 

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian said. “What a party, eh?”

Lan Wangji barely glanced at him, and did not answer.

“You’ve hit your limit, too, I see.” Wei Wuxian tapped the glass of water in Lan Wangji’s hands. “Problem with an open bar, happens to everyone.”

Lan Wangji took a step back. “I do not drink.”

“Really? How uptight!” Wei Wuxian laughed. Lan Wangji did not. “Maybe that’s good. You can be my designated driver, but like, for life tonight. I already have a ride home, don’t worry. I just need someone to help me not make a fool of myself.”

Lan Wangji looked at him from the corner of his eye as though to say, not possible.

“Hey, it’s not as hard as you’d think.” Wei Wuxian put up his hands. “I just need a little company, that’s all. If I keep to myself, I’ll just keep drinking, and I don’t want to make a scene.”

“That is your problem.”

“And now it’s yours too.” Wei Wuxian nudged him. “Come on, I’m fun to be around, everyone says so. Everyone’s just occupied with…” he gestured vaguely at all the couples on the dance floor. “...their own lives.”

“Then be occupied with yours.”

Wei Wuxian could not tell if he was teasing. There was no quirk of a smile on Lan Wangji’s face, but he did not seem malicious either. Wei Wuxian chose to smile. “Maybe I’m trying. Maybe I’m hitting on you.”

That got him full eye contact. “Are you?”

He hadn’t thought about it. He wasn’t not hitting on him, but it hadn’t really been his intention either, not consciously at least. He glanced Lan Wangji over. He was indeed very handsome, with sharp cheekbones and his hair cut just so to draw attention to them. His suit was tailored perfectly to show the slender lines of his body, its deep navy color complimented by the powder blue of his tie. Wei Wuxian suddenly desperately wanted to loosen that tie, undo that top button… God, he was drunk, wasn’t he?

“You shouldn’t joke about things like that,” Lan Wangji said, misreading Wei Wuxian’s silence.

That was probably for the better. Wei Wuxian did not much feel like being rejected at the moment. He didn’t say anything more for a while, unsure he could without something stupid tumbling from his mouth. Lan Wangji at least didn’t walk away, even though he could now without being impolite. 

Wei Wuxian watched the Yanli dance with one of Jin Zixuan’s cousins, a child young enough that he could barely reach her hands without her bending down. She picked him up and spun him, laughing. Zixuan came to her side and the three of them danced together. It was easy to see the two of them forming the sort of family Yanli had always wanted. Wei Wuxian had to smile a little, wondering how soon they’d have kids of their own. Yanli would be the perfect mother. And if she got to smile like this at her own little one everyday, that was exactly the life she should have. Wei Wuxian wanted to be nothing but happy for her, but there was a melancholy he couldn’t shake. She wasn’t leaving him and Jiang Cheng, but she also was. Their lives were changing, whether they all were ready or not.

Wei Wuxian thought very seriously of going to get more wine, or something stronger.

“Your sister is very happy,” Lan Wangji said, so suddenly Wei Wuxian jumped. Lan Wangji looked directly at him for only the second time.

“Yeah. She deserves to be the happiest in the world.”

Lan Wangji watched him a long moment. “You are not happy.”

“I am,” Wei Wuxian said quickly. “I’m the second happiest in the world, see?” He flashed his very best smile. “It’s you who seems to be the unhappy one. Why so grumpy, huh? It’s a wedding, not a funeral. Lighten up!”

Lan Wangji did not rise to the bait. “You are not fond of Jin Zixuan.”

Wei Wuxian was unsure whether it was something Lan Wangji had known before, or something he could tell from Wei Wuxian’s attitude about him that day alone. “Sure, but that’s got nothing to do with how I feel. If he makes Yanli happy, I’ll hold my tongue. Mostly.”

“Then…?”

“Then nothing. Don’t be nosy.”

Lan Wangji looked away, his whole body shifting slightly further from Wei Wuxian. Without thinking, Wei Wuxian grabbed his arm to make him stay, wrinkling that perfect suit.

He withdrew his hand quickly. “Sorry.” Lan Wangji was going to come away from the night with an awful impression of Yanli’s drunken belligerent brother. Wei Wuxian should have chosen anyone else to bother, but he couldn’t make himself walk away. He felt desperate to keep Lan Wangji’s attention. “You’re not being nosy. I’m just a mess.”

“Mn.”

“You’re supposed to disagree there.” But he made himself smile. “My feelings are trivial, anyway. It’s a happy day, so I’ll be happy.” He could not read the look Lan Wangji gave him. “Honestly, don’t worry. Assume I’m just afraid I’ll end up like Jiang Cheng instead of Yanli.” He leaned in very close to whisper conspiratorially, “Madam Yu is very worried this is the only wedding she’ll get to plan.”

“That’s not what’s bothering you,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “But I am sure you will find someone who makes you happy.” He spoke with such certainty, Wei Wuxian could almost believe him. He could almost feel it was romantic. But, of course, it was only their first real meeting. He was only being kind.

“I’m sure you will too.” He pushed Lan Wangji’s shoulder lightly, to show that he wasn’t reading into it too much. “Handsome guy like you can’t have much trouble, right?”

If Wei Wuxian didn’t know better, he’d swear Lan Wangji’s ears had gone pink. “Perhaps,” he said, in his particular flat tone.

Wei Wuxian looked at him, trying to puzzle him out. There was something about him Wei Wuxian quite liked, even besides the obvious good looks, even given that he seemed largely inscrutable. “Tell me something about yourself,” he said. “I feel like you know more about me than I know about you.”

“Such as?”

“What do you do?”

“I am in medical school. Entering my final year.”

Of course he was going to be a doctor. Wei Wuxian almost wanted to laugh.

“And you?”

“Ah well.” Wei Wuxian crossed his arms and took a breath. “Nothing so glorious as that. I did intend to do the grad school thing, and still do, but you know…” He waved his hand. “I needed to save up after undergrad, but something always happens, so, you know. I just do computer repair work.”

“Just?”

“Yeah, you should hear the fits Madam Yu throws, says I’ve wasted the family’s investment in my college education. Says I should work harder and get on my way to doing something respectable.” 

“It is respectable,” Lan Wangji said with the same certainty as before.

“Well, it pays the bills. Mostly.” 

“Mn.” Lan Wangji’s face barely changed, but Wei Wuxian got the impression that he was frustrated. “I understand very little about computers. As, I imagine, does Madam Yu.”

“They’re easy enough to get the hang of. It’s just—“ He paused. “Either you don’t want to hear this, or you’re trying to trick me into saying something smart so you can say I told you so.”

“Perhaps.” The corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth ticked up the slightest bit. Holly shit. If he was handsome with his neutral, slightly grumpy expression, there weren’t words for what he was when he smiled. “Please continue.”

Wei Wuxian humored him for a while, explaining what he knew had to be boring details of how computers worked, throwing in what human interest bits he could. He worked in a shop called Wen’s with his buddy Wen Ning— Wen Ning’s family ran it. Wei Wuxian hadn’t meant to stick around, he had just meant to fill in for Wen Ning when he’d been in that accident their senior year, because he was a quick learner and the Wens needed somebody, but then he was good at it and had needed the money and had stayed, and did Lan Wangji know how much of an up charge there was if you took your computer to the manufacturer’s endorsed repair company? Wei Wuxian did not mention that the reason he needed money in the first place was that he’d stretched what he’d had thin helping get Wen Ning back on his feet. He had Jiang Cheng and Madam Yu to tell him he was a fool, and he was starting to like Lan Wangji too much to set him up to ruin it. 

“This must bore you,” he said after explaining the time he’d fixed Jin Zixuan’s computer, and how Zixuan hadn’t realized he’d gone to where Wei Wuxian worked until he popped out of the back room. “Please stop me.”

“I enjoy listening.”

“But not talking, it seems. You were supposed to be telling me about yourself, and you turned it right around.”

“There is not much to say about me.”

“Sure there is. You’re in med school, there’s got to be some interesting stories. What sort of doctor are you thinking you’ll be?”

“Pediatrician.”

“Really? You seem the surgeon type.”

“I’ve been told.”

That was a sore spot, then. Wei Wuxian smiled. “That’s nice, though. You must care more about helping people than being the sort of hot shot all the TV dramas are about.”

Lan Wangji’s mouth set in a line. “That should be true for everyone.” The image of him fighting with other students on the matter flashed in Wei Wuxian’s head. He seemed so reserved, and yet Wei Wuxian would believe that he’d said these same words through gritted teeth in another circumstance.

“Well, I’m glad it’s true for you.” Wei Wuxian flashed a smile at Lan Wangji, and was amazed to see Lan Wangji’s face relax. It made him feel a whole host of things, and he was getting to the point where he couldn’t blame the wine. “We should dance,” he said before he could stop himself. Feelings were even more dangerous than alcohol.

Lan Wangji’s mouth opened slightly— he’d stopped just sort of blurting out a no, hadn’t he, and was now trying to find a polite way to say it. But Lan Wangji’s eyes focused on Wei Wuxian’s face a long moment, and then— “Okay.”

“Okay.” Wei Wuxian laughed a little, from relief, and maybe, maybe, the bit of nervousness beginning to curl around his throat. He was more Jiang Cheng than Yanli, he knew that. Worse, even— he was Wei Wuxian. He couldn’t hold romantic notions of what this meant. Even if it went perfectly, and Lan Wangji was not just pitying some sad sack who couldn’t handle his sister getting married, then what? They’d have a few dates, and then one of them would forget to call, and then it would end the way everything else did. 

Another slow song started as they made their way to the dance floor, and Wei Wuxian’s face felt warm. “We don’t have to…”

Lan Wangji put one hand on Wei Wuxian’s back, right at his shoulder blade like he was leading him in a waltz-- Wei Wuxian knew, because Yanli had practiced for her first dance with him plenty over the past several months. His touch was firm, his hand strong. Wei Wuxian put his own hand on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, half afraid he might swoon if he didn’t steady himself. “You know your way around this sort of thing, huh?” he said, trying to keep it light.

“I have had lessons.”

“Well, I’ve practiced quite a lot with Yanli, so I can give you a run for your money, I bet.” 

“Mn.” Lan Wangji took his free hand.

They only swayed in place like everyone else-- it wasn’t a waltz, or anything else Wei Wuxian could recognize-- but dancing with Lan Wangji felt like something with complicated steps, something Wei Wuxian had to focus immensely to do right or else he’d trip right over his own feet. Though if he did, Lan Wangji certainly felt strong enough to catch him. Mm, he needed to not think about that. Or how close they were, the stiff fabrics of their jackets pressed together, giving only the ghost of touch to the skin beneath. 

Lan Wangji’s eyes locked on Wei Wuxian. That was a dancing thing, Wei Wuxian knew. Yanli had been chastised many times by her instructor for looking down at her feet. Still, it didn’t help with anything he was feeling. He had to look back, to show he knew he was supposed to. Lan Wangji had such nice eyes. And… lips. Wei Wuxian bit down on his tongue. 

“Are you… alright?”

“Yeah. Definitely. You’re just a very good dancer.”

The slightest crease appeared between Lan Wangji’s eyebrows. “If this isn’t…”

“It is.” Wei Wuxian turned his hand to lace his fingers into Lan Wangji’s. It wasn’t proper dance form, but he needed to hold on. “I’m just being weird.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers curled around the back of Wei Wuxian’s slowly, but then the tightness of his grip matched Wei Wuxian’s. His thumb stroked the side of Wei Wuxian’s hand. Wei Wuxian both relaxed and felt every nerve in his body light up. Did Lan Wangji know what that did to him? Was it maybe on purpose? His face remained unreadable. Wei Wuxian stepped in to press a little closer, just to see what he’d do. Not shamelessly close, though plenty of other pairs were toeing that line, including Jin Guangshan, who unsurprisingly was not dancing with his wife.

Lan Wangji did not pull away. If anything, he pressed a little harder on Wei Wuxian’s back. Either Wei Wuxian was completely out of touch on the dating scene— entirely possible, given the last few years, or…

MianMian caught his eye from over the shoulder of her date across the floor. She made a pointed look at Lan Wangji, and then a very unsubtle thumbs up. Wei Wuxian rose his eyebrows in response, trying to convey a confidence he certainly didn’t have.

MianMian grimaced— was he that obvious? Or... oh no. She meant—

“Wuxian, who is this?”

Wei Wuxian turned to see a very irritable Jiang Cheng. He had, it seemed, also been drinking quite a lot to deal with their family. A half empty ball glass was clenched in his fist.

“Ah, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said with his best anger-diffusing smile, pulling away from Lan Wangji. “This is Lan Wangji. His brother’s the one that Jin G—-“

“Yes, I know that,” Jiang Cheng snapped, even though he had asked. “What are you doing with him?”

“We are dancing,” Lan Wangji said, so clearly annoyed that Wei Wuxian had to wonder how he’d been inscrutable just moments before.

“It’s a party, A-Cheng, we’re supposed to have fun.” He threw an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “You can’t have fun without me, can you?”

Jiang Cheng grunted, but Wei Wuxian knew he needed attention. He took the drink from him and handed it to Lan Wangji. “Will you get rid of this? I'll be back, I promise. He just needs… me.”

Lan Wangji nodded, and Wei Wuxian herded Jiang Cheng to an empty table. “And here I thought you were going to yell at me for drinking.”

“I don’t like that guy.”

“Come on, they’re married now, we have to stop—“

“No, that guy.” Jiang Cheng made a flailing motion with one hand towards the dance floor. “He seems stuffy. Why would you hang out with him?”

“Well, you were busy.”

“And you didn’t think of rescuing your dear beloved brother? You left me to the wolves?” He picked up a glass from the table, realizing only just in time that it was both empty and not his. “Do you know how many times someone offered to set me up? You could have at least split their focus.”

“Please, half your mom’s family still can’t handle that I’m--”

“That doesn’t matter,” Jiang Cheng huffed. “You could have…” He shut his mouth very tight. Wei Wuxian sighed and hurried him to the bathroom, waiting outside a stall for him.

“I thought I’d be the one doing this,” he said, handing in a paper towel when Jiang Cheng had finished. Then again, Jiang Cheng always had the lower alcohol tolerance, and if he was feeling the same things Wei Wuxian felt, neither of them should really be surprised.

Jiang Cheng took the towel but didn’t rise from his spot on the bathroom floor. “I might have killed you if it was.”

“If you didn’t, your mom would have.” Wei Wuxian plopped himself on the floor next to Jiang Cheng, leaning against the stall door frame. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re not losing her.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng snapped, but he grabbed Wei Wuxian’s wrist and held it tight. “Zixuan really doesn’t deserve her.”

“Yeah, but neither do we.”

It sat in the air a long moment. Wei Wuxian wanted to say nothing would be different, they’d all been living on their own anyway, but it would be a lie. Yanli would always take care of them, but they couldn’t lean on her the same way. And if they could, it wouldn’t be right.

“Do you really like that guy?” Jiang Cheng asked, leaning his head against the toilet paper dispenser.

Wei Wuxian laughed. “I don’t think it matters. We’ve been gone a while, and I probably smell like shit now.” He put a hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “Besides, so what if I did? You think anyone would ever be dumb enough to stick with me? You’re the only one that stupid.”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “That’s for sure.” He rolled his head over to look at him. “But you’re the only one dumb enough to stay with me.”

“And I’m not getting any smarter. Just ask your mom.”

“Well. I’m not either.”

Wei Wuxian smiled, and then bit his lip. “If I ever was in a relationship, you know nothing would change, right?”

“Oh my god, you do like that guy! You’re going to abandon me for that guy, and do married brunches with Yanli while I sit at home!”

“How much did you drink?” Wei Wuxian laughed. “In what world would I suffer a meal with Zixuan without you?”

“A world where you have your own awful husband.”

“Never.” He squeezed Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. “I’ll always need you. Besides, god knows Yanli’s gonna have plenty of kids. Who’s gonna pay attention to them while we’re occupied with those awful husbands?”

Jiang Cheng’s face softened. “I’d have to be there for them.” He looked at Wei Wuxian with wet eyes. “You want to get back to your stuffy man?”

“He’s probably already gone.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. The world is full of many handsome men, but only one Jiang Cheng.”

“Mm-- hey! Do you mean I’m not handsome?”

By the time they stumbled out of the bathroom, Wei Wuxian’s arm still around Jiang Cheng to steady him, the crowd had begun to thin. There was no sign of either Lan Wangji or his brother. It was probably for the better. He’d find some way to ruin it, and besides, he and Jiang Cheng were going to need each other more than they ever had. He’d choose Jiang Cheng over a potential boyfriend any day.

But later, when MianMian slipped a napkin with a phone number scrawled onto it into his hand as she said her goodbyes, whispering, “I’ve got your back,” he felt a spark of hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to choose.

#wangxian #wei wuxian #fic tag #title is from the whitney houston song #this was originally part of a much longer work but then it wasn't going anywhere SO #I made the call to edit this to stand on its own because it's what I wanted to write anyway

[eyes-of-simha]

my love is like a dream

Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)

Pairing: Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian/Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji

Word Count: 1500

Summary: Lan Wangji comes home, not even aware that it's his birthday. Wei Ying on the other hand is fully aware of it.

Beta Reader: @spots-of-gold

Read On AO3

The cloudy sky was a good reflection of how Lan Wangji felt. He was exhausted. His day at work had been longer than usual and now he couldn’t seem to get rid of the pounding in his head. Even though it wasn’t that long the quiet ride home in his car was a bliss. He knew that he shouldn’t work that much overtime but if it meant that other people would get to go home earlier to their families, it was worth it.

But there was also someone waiting for him at home.

The thought of Wei Ying made Wangji smile and the pounding in his head seemed to slow down. Wei Ying always had this effect on him. He calmed him down and grounded him. When Wei Ying was present, Wangji instantly felt relaxed and comfortable. Time and time again, he was surprised how well Wei Ying could ease his anxiety and make him feel safe.

Lost in thought about his boyfriend Wangji didn’t even realise he had already arrived home. As he made his way through the cold evening from the car to the door of their apartment building he thought he could maybe drink a cup of tea with Wei Ying before going to sleep. Of course that would only be possible if Wei Ying wasn’t sleeping already.

Wangji shook his head. When has Wei Ying ever gone to bed this early?

That suspicion was confirmed as soon as Wangji reached the door of their apartment. He could still hear noises from the other side of the door. He was excited to see Wei Ying. Although he saw him everyday, there was still a slight flutter in his stomach as he unlocked the door.

But what he saw then was indeed unexpected.

The room was mostly dark. The only light came from the coffee table in the living room. On it were a bunch of lit candles that glowed like stars through the black of the room. In between the candles lay a plate of muffins as well as a couple of packages wrapped in colorful paper. Gifts, Wangji realised.

It was his birthday.

How did he forget that? He usually had his calendar very well memorised. But mostly concerning his appointments and meetings, not really birthdays. Although he was certain he would never forget Wei Ying’s birthday.

Speaking of Wei Ying, he sat on the couch looking up at Wangji and even though the light was dim, Wangji could see the bright smile on his face. It glowed even brighter than the candles.

Once he got through the stage of surprise and shock, Wangji realised what was happening and a warm feeling like he had already drunk his tea began to spread through his body.

Wei Ying bounced off the couch and a took a few steps towards Wangji, still smiling.

“Happy birthday, Lan Zhan!“, he said and and threw his arms around Wangji.

He buried his face in the crook of Wangji’s neck and his warm breath caused Wangji to get goose bumps. Ignoring the feeling of his ears blushing vigorously, Wangji closed his arms around Wei Ying. He was wearing an oversized hoodie and had his hair in a messy bun so it felt like hugging a big stuffed animal.

They broke apart but Wei Ying still had his arms on Wangji’s shoulders.

“Well?“ Wei Ying said in an expectant voice. Wangji wasn’t really sure what to say to that so he remained silent.

“Are you surprised?“ Wei Ying added.

“Yes.“ Wangji tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible. Wei Ying raised a brow.

“Did you forget?“

Wangji didn’t say anything but it seemed to be enough.

“Oh my god, Lan Zhan! You forgot your own birthday! How could you just forget? I always spend weeks looking forward to mine. Now I’m even more glad I planned this. It really is a big surprise now, isn’t it? Oh god, next year I promise you I will plan the biggest birthday party just so you never forget again. Stop smiling! Do you know how long I’ve been looking forward to this-“

Wangji cut Wei Ying off by pressing their lips together. He could not express how much he loved this man in any human language. Wei Ying giggled and deepened the kiss.

After a few minutes of blissfull kissing Wei Ying suddenly pulled back. “We have to stop. You have to unpack your gifts!“ Wangji didn’t want to stop so he leaned in again but was stopped by Wei Ying putting a finger on his lips half way. “Nope. I will not let myself get distracted by you. You have to open your gifts.“ Wangji gently kissed the tip of Wei Ying’s finger and Wei Ying groaned. “To be continued,“ he said with a suggestive look on his face before turning towards the couch and pulling Wangji with him.

They sat down and Wei Ying turned the lights on so they could actually see the gifts.

“Look what I made!“ Wei Ying exclaimed and pushed the plate of muffins in Wangji’s direction.

“You baked?“ Wangji raised an eyebrow.

“I did,“ Wei Ying stated proudly. “Well, Jiejie helped. But it was my idea! And they’re vegan.“

Wangji smiled at Wei Ying’s demeanor. He looked like a proud toddler presenting something they made to their parent. “They look very delicious,“ Wangji said as he picked up one of the gifts to start unwrapping.

The first gift was a book of poetry by one of Wangji’s favorite authors. Wei Ying complained about the poet having written “just way too many“ books and him not knowing which one to get.

He ended up choosing this one because he liked the cover art. It was a watercoloring of a cherry blossom tree on a mountain. Wangji smiled to himself as he had actually been planning to read this one next.

The second gift was a bunny plushie. It was pearl white and stared at Wangji with big eyes. Wangji stared back.

Wei Ying started petting the stuffed bunny. “I know we were talking about getting bunnies because you had them when you were a kid and you really like them and I know that we can’t right now because of our jobs but I thought this little guy could stand in for them until we get real bunnies. Do you like him?“

Wangji answered Wei Ying by kissing him on the cheek. Wei Ying turned pink and quickly handed him the next present.

It was a box with different kinds of teas. Green, black, fruity, herbal, sweet, and some that Wangji had never heard of before. “We can try some tomorrow if you want,“ Wei Ying suggested. “Mmh,“ Wangji nodded.

He was quite proud of turning Wei Ying into more of a tea drinker. He still drank a lot of coffee. More than Wangji thought was good for him but at least he wasn’t at the three-cups-just-to-wake-up-stage anymore.

Wei Ying handed him the last gift. Wangji hesitated but before he could even say something, Wei Ying already protested, “Don’t even say that it’s too much. It’s your birthday. It’s your day and I want to do something nice. And I didn’t have to pay for this one, so…“ and he put the gift in Wangji’s lap. Wangji sighed and unwrapped it.

It was a framed drawing. Wangji immediately recognised that it was Wei Ying’s work.

The drawing itself was of Lan Wangji. He was sitting with his legs stretched out but slighty bent. He leaned back on his arms for support. He was naked except for a thin silk cloth which was elegantly laid over his crotch. His head was thrown back, his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open as if in deep satisfaction. Strands of black hair fell into his face and a flower was tucked behind his ear. It looked a bit like a lotus.

At the bottom of the drawing were a few finely written chinese characters. They spelled out two lines out of one of Wangji’s favorite poems. They translated to:

‘my love is like a flower my love is like a dream‘

Underneath, Wei Ying’s signature was scribbled.

Wangji looked at the drawing for a couple of seconds. It almost felt like he was holding his breath. Then he touched the glass of the frame and started to gently follow the lines of the drawing with his hands. He hovered over the arms, the legs, the chest and the face of his drawn self. Lastly, he caressed the delicate lines of the words at the bottom.

„My love is like a flower,“ he breathed, barely more than a whisper. „My love is like a dream.“

He looked up and found Wei Ying’s eyes softly looking at him. Wangji moved his hand to meet Wei Ying’s and intertwined their fingers. Wei Ying scooted closer to him until there was barely any space between them anymore.

„Happy birthday,“ Wei Ying whispered.

„Thank you.“

#own post #own fanfic #the untamed #the untamed fic #the untamed fanfiction #chen qing ling #cql #cql fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #mdzs fanfiction #wangxian #fluff #one shot #happy birthday lan wangji!

[1-1snailxd-art]

Sanders Sides Oneshot - Babysitting

This is how you beat writers block - you draw and then find your will to write afterwards.   

Characters/relationships: Logan / Virgil (analogical), Patton / Roman (Royality), Kid Thomas

Warnings: none

Words: 1511

Summary: This came about from a post by @fanartfunart and seeing as I’m trying to learn how to draw people better, I decided to challenge myself with a drawing....that drawing then turned into a little fic. FYI, I know there is a lot wrong with Logan’s proportions in the picture (I can see it), but Thomas is cute so whatever.  

_____________________________________

"Don't be such a baby, Logan." Virgil huffed, following his partner into the kitchen. "It's a kid, not a freakin' nuclear bomb."

"I know that, but..." Logan kept his back to Virgil as he absentmindedly took ingredients for dinner out of the fridge and cupboards. "I don't know anything about babysitting a child."

Watching the cook’s shoulders slump at the admission, Virgil softened his tone and moved to lean on the counter next to Logan.

"What's to know, Lo? You give him some food, easy for you, and turn on the TV. Job done." Virgil sighed when Logan didn't look away from the bowl in front of him; hands floured as he prepared a pasta dough. "Look, I only need to be in the studio for an hour at most; then I'll come straight home. You can entertain 'til I get back, right?"

"Are you sure you can't stay?"

 The tone of Virgil's phone gave him his answer as the other man quickly excused himself to take the call. It wasn't that Logan didn't like children; he just didn't think he was good for children. Honestly, he questioned daily what Virgil saw in him; a pensive, workaholic wasn't that romantic and didn't scream partner material. Patton on the other hand was destined to be a parent; they'd wanted to be one since they were kids.

The pasta dough came into shape as Logan recalled the day Patton video called them to announce they had been approved for adoption now Roman had consistent work. He'd shared in their excitement but never fully understood it. Admittedly, Logan was still hurt that Patton had moved so far away to support Roman's career and their relationship took a hit from the distance.  

Setting the finished dough aside to rest, Logan washed his hands and turned to find the dejected Virgil walking back in.

 "Virgil? What's wrong?"

"I've gotta go, Lo. Shit's hit the fan with the computers at the studio and Nate's pissed."

"How bad is it?" Logan moved closer, knowing there would be no way out of this now and accepting that he would have to face Patton alone.

"Backups failing bad. I should have gone in earlier when it was just a glitch. It was stupid of me to ignore it and-fuck I'm gonna pay for it n-"

Logan tilted Virgil's chin back and placed a soft kiss on his lips to silence the worrier.

"I apologise for my earlier attitude and clouded judgements. I will be fine this evening. You should go." Taking Virgil's hand, Logan walked him towards the door. "I will be fine until you or Patton return."

"Yeah, you will." he replied with a half-smile, before giving Logan a final kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

  The silence of the apartment was crushing as Logan threw himself onto the couch; sliding his glasses up off his face as he massaged his brow. It was all too much at once. First, he was just worried about seeing Patton and Roman again after years of dwindling contact; then they asked the couple to babysit while they went to the award ceremony that brought them to town; and now Logan would have to face it all alone. A knock at the door pulled Logan from his thoughts and he was quick to sit up and correct himself before answering it.

 "Hey Specs" Roman smiled from the entry; the pink backpack on his shoulder a harsh contrast to the black suit he wore. "It's great to see you again!"

"It's good to see you too, Roman. You are looking well considering the travel."

"Oh please," With a hand gesture Roman stepped into the apartment and put the apparently heavy bag down. "It would take more than a few hours on a plane to ruin this face."

"Indeed," Logan chuckled, turning just in time to see a pink blur heading towards him.

 "Uncle Logan!" Came a cheery voice as a body slammed into Logan and constricted his middle.

"Um...Thomas, I presume."

Logan looked up to see Patton beaming as they walked up the path in a simple blue gown. They looked so happy and lively that Logan forgot all his past grievances; it seemed Patton was happy and that was all that mattered.

"That's my Thomas," Patton giggled.

"It's good to see you again, Patton." Logan pulled a face as he looked down at the figure still holding his arms by his sides. "Your son is very... Huggie."

Roman and Patton both laughed, and Roman snapped a quick picture of the awkward man pinned by his son.

"Oh, I know. I trained him well, don't you think?"

"Indeed, Patton, but...um," Thomas giggled as Logan tried to lift his arms out of the vice grip around him. "How do I un-train him? I do need to work at some point this evening."

"That will do, Thomas; give Uncle Lo some breathing room."

At Roman's word, Thomas let go and moved to his father's side. Logan's moment of reprieve was short lived as Patton replaced their son, pulling their old friend close and whispering in his ear.

"I really missed you, Logan."

"I..." For a moment, he was lost for words before mimicking the tight grip around his friend. "I missed you too."

  The group remained in the entry as Patton began rattling off things Thomas could and couldn't do. Though he listened intently, Logan's eyes kept shifting to the young boy in the pink jacket that lent against Roman; holding onto his father’s arms around his neck and smiling up at Logan.

".... And if you need anything, just call me and I'll come right back and-"

"Calm down, Pat." Roman interjected, "We're just going for a few hours. I'm sure Lo and Thomas will be fine."

"Right. You're right."

"I always am." "That's not true, Dad." Thomas turned to look up at his father in confusion. "We were late to the airport because you got the times wrong, and you brought the wrong chocolate milk last week, and you-"

"Alright, that's enough." Roman was quick to scoop the boy up and headed inside. "Let's get you set up, hey."

A smile crept across Logan's face as he watched them go.

"Is that a genuine smile I see, Logan?" It comforted Patton to see him looking so content, despite his obvious fear of being responsible for Thomas.

"I'm proud of you, Patton." Their eyes widened as Logan turned; his own shining in the sun light. "You made the family you always wanted." "Almost," they laughed. "It's just missing one thing." "Hm?" Brows furrowing in confusion, Logan wracked his brain for what Patton was talking about. "What could you possibly be missing?"

"Just an uncle to teach Thomas about computers and another to show him how to cook. Any idea on where I could find them?"

"I think I do, but they live pretty far away." "That's okay, we're moving anyway." "What?" Logan was genuinely shocked by the news, mouth left ajar as Roman came up from behind and place a hand on his shoulder.

"You ready to be a full-time uncle, Logan?"

 The question left Logan reeling. Three years ago, Patton left their teaching position to follow Roman's quest for recognition in music and theatre; leaving Logan and Virgil behind in the process. One year ago, they adopted Thomas and their contact became almost non-existent; so to be told they were returning to include him and Virgil in their family...was amazing.

 "I suppose I'll have to be."

This time, Logan initiated a group hug; wrapping an arm around each of his friends and briefly forgetting that they had somewhere to be and he had a job to do.

"Jeez Specs, Thomas rubbed off on you quickly." Roman joked; causing Logan to quickly step back and adjust his tie.  

"Ah, yes, sorry." Logan stumbled over his words, causing his friends to laugh at his sudden display of affection. "I got a little carried away." "It's okay, Lo." Patton assured, waving at the little figure that was poking his head over the couch inside. "But we should get going or we'll never leave."

"Right. Yes. Of Course."

 Logan watched as Patton blew a kiss to Thomas before heading down the front path with Roman. Once the car had pulled away, he shut the door and turned to the smiling figure kneeling on the couch, waiting patiently. Brown eyes looked expectantly at him and he thought about Patton's wish for uncles for their son.

 "So… Thomas. Have you ever made pasta before?" The boy shook his head and slipped off the couch as Logan held his hand out. "Perhaps it's time uncle Logan taught you then."

 *************************

 When Virgil came home, he was shocked to find the apartment lit only by Steven Universe playing on the TV. Tiptoeing around the couch he was greeted to the scene of Logan fast asleep with Thomas laying on his chest. It didn't look comfortable at all, but Virgil had to admit it was an adorable thing to come home to.

________________________________________

Tags: @thequeensphinx

What else have I done:

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton, cursed Deceit and ridiculous Remus)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.)

And more....

Writing Master Post

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #sanders sides fanart #ts fanart #ts fanfiction #analogical #royality #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #patton sanders #ts patton #roman sanders #ts roman #ts thomas #character thomas #Kid Thomas #tsart #ts art #my art #my writing #snail art #snail writing

[yakumtsaki]

I taste just like ice cream, bitch I am so icy, heart cold like an ice queen, that's why they don't like me 🎵

-What the hell was that.

Traditionally I start Union updates with semi-relevant song lyrics.

-Why did you start an update at all.

Because it’s time, Shajar! I took a holy oath in my 2020 simming goals post to update Unions once a month, and I’m already a month late.

-But nothing interesting is happening. 

That’s never stopped me before. Now listen to Rico Nasty, cry some more about Sophie blowing you off, and shut up.

-Ugh please, I couldn’t be more over Sonia if I tried. I hardly ever texted her links to wedding pinterest boards and quizzes to determine if our parenting styles are compatible. 

Did she ever reply? 

-She did once and said ‘who dis’. Of course the letters unscrambled spell out ‘do wish’, meaning she did wish me to keep messaging her. I just don’t know where it all went wrong. 

-Hey there, 17 year old girl, maybe you’ve had enough neat whiskey for the night? We’re actually running out of bottles. 

-Beat it, ponytail, I need to dull my pain. I’ve just been stabbed right in the gut by the love of my life. Just like my style idol and general role model, space opera fascist Kylo Ren.

Shaj I really hate seeing you like this, and not just because the red neon light is super unflattering on your complexion.

-You can fuck right off too, I was perfectly happy with my dads who hate me and my imbecile sister and my brother who might as well not exist, noogie-ing people all day AND night long, but you had to be all ‘OMG IT’S SOPHIE MIGUEL SHAJAR GO TALK TO HER’. Life-ruining-moron. 

But I was totally right about you two hitting it off, I mean look how sad you are now that she dumped- yea never mind, that’s not a good argument.

-Look what I can do even though I’ve had 46 whiskeys!! How you like me now, Sophie???

-You’re paying for all these broken glasses, I’m going to need your name and a credit card.

-Yes, fair enough, my name is Cyneswith Union-

-I LOOK GOOD ENOUGH TO EAT

Yea, you really should eat something to soak up all the alcohol. And not to kick you when you’re down, but you should also disregard all those cliches about ~a smile being the most beautiful thing you can wear~ because MAN. Watch out Joaquin, there’s a new Joker on the prowl. 

-So.. 20 lobsters thermidor and our most expensive appetizers?

-Aha.

-Would you mind settling your bill now?

-Of course not! My name is Cyneswith Union and this is the credit card my parents got me when I was 6 because we’re super duper best friends! I love my parents! They don’t care about their other daughter at all, even when their other daughter is going through a really hard time because she got the emotional equivalent of a lightsaber wound in the gut. You know what, let me also get 20 bottles of your most overpriced champagne to go with the lobsters.

Feeling better?

-Well it’s hard to feel bad when you’re spending your parents’ money recklessly and with malice aforethought.

It sure is. Alright well, the sun is coming up, maybe we should head home.

-What’s the rush? What is going to happen if I don’t go home, my parents will get worried? LOL

God your life sucks. Ok let’s hit a couple more places.

-Greetings. Welcome to our establishment. I am a human employee from this planet.

Great, nice to meet you.

-I just want there to be no doubt that I am indeed an earthling, born and raised under the earth’s exosphere and not above it.

Leave us alone.

-And I’m the resident community lot sim with that one face template you hate! There must be one of us on every lot you visit!

-And I am here in my revealing outfit to use the dance sphere and make everyone uncomfortable!

You’re actually pretty, I need to keep you in mind for after Don Oates takes a wrecking ball to our genetics, but yea, let’s bounce, Shajar.

Time to visit the happiest place on earth, Deh'Javu Modern Art Museum, home to my favorite piece of art in any medium, The Toilet of Fire. Shove that Fountain up your ass, Duchamp. How we feeling, Shaj?

-This trash can reminds of Sophie :( She used to go around town throwing money she stole from charities in trash cans and then send them riddles for where to find them :(

Enough with Sophie, we’ll find you someone better! Like..

..your aunt! Get the hell out of here Brit Brit, you’re taking up townie space. 

-I won’t be long, Gunther’s amazing close-up portrait of my hair was rejected by the museum so I’m here to set this shithole on fire. 

In other words Gunther just painted a canvas black and called it a day?

-His art doesn’t cater to plebs. Yes, offense.

Our old friend Ugly Teen Townie is here so finally we can have some fun. Shajar had gone almost 12 hours(!) without noogieing someone and I was starting to worry for her health.

-Yes, yes, I’m starting to feel like myself again..

Good for you, Shaj!

-Hope you’ve made peace with your God, Ugly Teen Townie, this water balloon is filled with horse feces! 

-WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET HORSE SHIT

-I ordered it from some guy named Leod McGreggor.

-How about a another joke, MuRRAY?

-What?!

-Now you say, ‘no, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes’. Say it!

-No, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes.

-What do you get when you cross a mentally-ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash? Now you say ‘call the police, Gene!’

-Call the police, Gene!

-I'll tell you what you get..

-YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE. HAHA oh man! Good stuff. 

Alright I’m starting to feel bad for Ugly Teen Townie, first he had to come to all the toddler birthday parties during the Victoria/Komei era and now this, he has suffered enough at this family’s hands. Time to go home, Shaj.

-Not so fast!

Wow, the Countess and Mrs. Crumplebottom on the same lot, top 10 anime crossovers.

-I have been sent here by the Limp Dick Vamps United organization to recruit Shajar Union.

Ugh you people are still around? Haven’t heard of you losers since the Count wouldn’t let Victoria bang him, which I’m still annoyed about. 

-Indeed we are, and it’s clear Shajar is ready to join us, dedicating her life to evil deeds without romantic distractions. I have no idea what Crumplebottom is doing here.

-I’m here to recruit Shajar to my own organization, Bitter Sims Worldwide Alliance. We’re always on the lookout for new members who want to spread their misery to their fellow Sim. 

It sounds like it’d be more effective if you guys just merged your organizations.

-I will NEVER merge my organization with someone who displays her bosom like a common whore. 

-Eat a dick, Crumplebottom!

-MAKE ME, FANGTOOTH

-Alright here I am, what the fuck do you want?

-Shajar, it is a pleasure to meet you! Ardent admirer of your work.

-What work, freakshow?

-Torturing everyone around you, what else!

-What? I don’t torture people around me, if anything they torture me.

-Why don’t you talk to me about it?

-I’d rather not, you look like a bejeweled snowman.

-Look deep into my eyes, Shajar..

-And now look deep into my razor sharp teeth..

-Ugh fine, let’s talk. 

-Is that Victoria and Komei’s teen granddaughter hanging out with a vampire?

Yes it is Kennedy, keep it moving.

-God, wtf is wrong with this family. 

Nothing now that you’ve been removed from our social circle, go away! Just kidding, you’re an icon and I’m marrying you in at some point. 

-Hard pass. 

Your loss, hombre. 

-It definitely isn’t.

-If I had known your turn on was vampires I would had set you two up!

STOP SETTING UP TEENS WITH ADULTS, LAKSHMI. And Shajar’s turn ons isn’t vampires, it’s fitness/fatness. Body positive queen. 

-Well, Shajar, you alphabetically listing all the people who have wronged you while I was trying to kill Crumplebottom telepathically has made for a very productive conversation. We’ll be in touch. 

-Thanks, Countess, it’s been real.

Shajar!!! Who cares about Sophie when you might bag a hot, rich vamp??

-Meh.

I’m gonna need you to be more excited about this prospect because a vampire spouse might just be enough of a draw to beat the comedic factor of fucking Don Oates turning us into an unintentional uglacy and I’m doing whatever I can to avoid my fate.

Ugh.

UGH

UGHHHHHHH

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO VICTORIA

-GET FUCKED, BROKEN FACED WEIRDO

God I miss you Vic 💔

-Donnie-bear, not to be not-nice, but mopping your pee off my front lawn is not exactly what I pictured doing during this date.

This guy won’t even mop up his own piss, what a catch.

Wow, manipulative much?? You are a piss piece of work, Donaldo.

-Don’t think we forgot about you, you 10-nice-point disgrace!

-VICTOR NO

-GET THAT MOP READY

-Finally, some peace and quiet.. Just me, alone with my broken heart, pondering my hopeless, loveless future..

-💗💗💗OMG SIS THERE YOU ARE. DONNIE AND I MADE OUT!!! 💗💗💗 But then grandma’s ghost scared him into soiling himself. 

-Good for grandma, hopefully next time she gives him a stroke. Now shut up and let’s eat in silence while I ponder my hopeless, loveless future.

-Okie dokie! 💗💗💗

-Um, I think mine has vomit in it.

-Yea I did that, but it’s just whiskey and lobster, if anything it increased in value. 

-Awww thanks sis! 💗💗💗

-Stop patronizing me, you little bitch. God I want to poke your eye out with this chopstick so badly.

-I love you too Shaj! 💗💗💗

And I hate both of you. Where’s your brother, I haven’t paid attention to him in 3 days. 

-He went upstairs, I think he’s pusshurt we forgot his birthday LOL

IT’S HIS BIRTHDAY????

-Don’t feel bad, I forgot it too! 💗💗💗

GODDAMMIT. WULF! WULF WHERE ARE YOU

-I’m here, I just grew up and dare I say it could not have gone better! 

Really?? Finally some good news! Let me look upon you-

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA

WULF WHAT THE FUCK

-I was Mozart musical genius boy but now I’m a sk8ter boi! Character development!

Ok this is the most iconic birthday look since Gunther grew up in the pirate costume, we’re obviously keeping it. 

-Great! And as if the fact I’m a Wyatt face template with 0 Jojo genes wasn’t enough to make me unelectable, I also rolled family! :D I’m doing everything I can to ensure I live that sweet motherlode spare life! 

Honestly you should had picked another outfit cause now that you’re dressed like this I unironically want you to win. Hoisted with your own petard.

#gen 2

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Part II has landed, my friends. I hope you enjoy it. :)

NSFW under the cut.

As always I’ll never get tired to say the words of appreciation to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​ <3 

Thanks for sticking with this story, guys.  ♥

All the chapters can be found on AO3 as well.

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

                              CHAPTER V: Lovestruck. Part II

Jamie ran feeling his leg muscles burn with the effort. Endlessly long, his feet stumbling over the dry branches cracking under his feet startling forest’s inhabitants that seem not to care of his attempt to escape. They know there is no way out. He feels the slap of wet leaves on his face and scratches all over his skin. An aching hollow space inside his chest is growing bigger and bigger. Ultimately, Jamie knows his heart will be ripped out at the end. The sweat dripped down his face forming salty paths. Jamie wants to scream that it stops. He wants to fall down and beg for mercy. But something behind pushes him back further and further into the darkness. His own mother’s voice whispering “Ye didna try hard enough.” 

In the end, the darkness has won. Once again he succumbs to its cold clutches.

* * *

The crisp, fresh Highland air always brings him back on track. Jamie thinks it is one of the main reasons why he feels much better when he’s in the wilderness, especially since his Mam has passed away. He enjoys the freezing early morning air, giving his skin goosebumps and his mind to think straight once again.

He shivers at the swoosh of cold wind. His toes slowly developing a bluish tinge standing on a chilly stone patio. The skies are pink aquarelle with white fluffy marshmallow clouds passing by. Jamie can hear the birds taking charge of the morning chirping away in the garden in front of him. He thinks Claire would love the view. Claire.

Jamie tiptoes back inside closing the doors behind him back facing the wall. Even if he wanted to wake her to catch the beauty of early rising he could not do it. Jamie has learned by now that Claire was a relatively light sleeper. Not by her nature but rather her professional duties. She always slept with her iPhone kept near at hand always, heard each and every message and call. Sometimes Jamie wanted to throw that technical invention through the window and see it break into small pieces. It was his only chance to see her peaceful. Her face always seemed to be concentrating, as if she was not truly asleep. But now that little crease between her eyebrows seemed to be gone.

Claire usually slept like a child with her knees brought up close to her body and wrapped up into a blanket cocoon-like, now was sprawled on her back. The mass of curls exploded into the waves all over the pillow. Like a crown, he thought. One of her breasts peeked from under the quilt, her veins cast a bluish trail over her pale skin all the way down the soft hip pressed to the mattress in its relaxed shape. Jamie was sure he knew each and one of those blue paths under her skin and could trace the map of them on her body with his eyes closed. The morning sun travelled through the thin curtains running its warm rays over Claire’s skin. There was something that came to his mind so sudden that the realisation almost knocked him down. 

Sorcha. 

She was his remedy from that darkness he was running from. That light he longed for so badly but could never find.

When Jamie slid under the blankets next to her she stirred just a bit but did not wake.

He could try to speak to her in English, Gaelic, French; he would even learn any other language just trying to explain what he felt. But it still would not be enough. He was falling in love. Falling in love gave him the same tickling sensation inside his belly and made him breathless as when he rode the roller coaster for the first time at the age of ten.

* * *

Half awake and drowsy I thought that my cat decided to crawl under the quilt in an attempt to beg for his morning feeding. My eyes snapped open when reality kicked in. I viewed a glorious pink sky surrounding the high mountains I saw yesterday through the window of the cottage. The sun crept along the wall, drawing knitted lines of light there. I watched the sunny glimpse run away (creation of the curtains dancing in the wind). It climbed up on the bed all the way up burying itself inside Jamie’s red hair that shone like Amber. His head found its residence in the valley between the milky white of my legs. Jamie’s lips softly touched a spot on the inner side of my thigh where three birthmarks gathered together. 

“Ye ken ye have a witch mark here?” His thumb circled dark dots upon my skin.

Something that vaguely sounded like “mmmm” escaped my mouth. All of a sudden I forgot how to breathe. 

“Now I ken about them too.” 

The rest of the blanket was pushed aside falling to the floor with a soft whisper. It was the competing temperatures, the cool air of the room playing against my hot skin, that raised goosebumps all over me.

I tried to tell him that I am not a witch though (as if they really existed and he was going to execute me). But the words remained stuck inside my throat only letting out a moan when the velvet of Jamie’s tongue descended lower. In mere seconds, my legs began to tremble, hips instinctively rising up with want. But Jamie’s hand laid atop my stomach keeping me pinned on the mattress. A shuddering sigh left my seized lungs as Jamie flicked his tongue once, twice and then his lips closed over the sensitive flesh sucking.

The ceiling started to spin above and I closed my eyes, surrendering to the only existing thing in the world that moment - Jamie. His exploration up and down, from left to right, circling and suckling did not last long before the daylight has disappeared from the view and my cry echoed in the room.

As the real world returned and I regained my senses, I felt my breathing slowly return from short gasping breaths. Jamie's blue eyes settled on me excitedly remarking, "We have a great day ahead of us."

Jamie indeed had plans. It was hiking in fact (“it’s a must in Highlands, ye canna not do it”). Mentally I kicked myself for stopping jogging in the mornings. How big is the chance that I’m not going to be out of breath ten minutes into our nature exploration? The yoga classes where I went with Geillis was also abandoned after several weeks. “I stand enough on my feet in the surgery” I reasoned with myself (and Geillis who made a remark about having “trained arse”).

With perfectly ripe avocados on toast and cherry tomatoes for breakfast (with occasional kisses in between, Jamie tasting sweetly of orange juice and I of strong coffee) we made it outdoors.

The Highlands was dressed in autumn. The leaves were toned in shades of orange, red, and gold causing the scenery to look as if someone had spilled paint down them. Other sepia coloured leaves fell down, whispering their goodbyes to the last warm days. They rustled softly as they dropped from dry branches bidding their farewells. I remembered as a child I liked collecting star-shaped maple leaves, creating a bouquet of reddish-brown remnants of summer. I used to put them between the pages of my Dad’s books in his office. Usually, he would find them days later and smile at me. Together we would take them out and stick into the notebook I had. We did that each autumn until my blue notebook was left behind. As well as the life of my parents when uncle Lamb turned the keys to close the door of our London house. That way he locked away my childhood forever.

Jamie was a walking book of legends and stories. Since we left the cottage he was telling me all kinds of things I’ve never even heard about. He made a remark that I should be ashamed I live in Scotland and only heard about the Loch Ness Monster. 

“Have ye ever heard about Kelpies?”

“No, I haven’t,” I shook my head clinging to Jamie’s forearm for support when we passed a muddy puddle.

“Kelpies were said to take the form of a horse. They could also take a human form. They would use their beauty to lure people to climbing upon them before being taking them into the water, not to be seen again.”

“Charming.” I grimaced.

“Dinna fash, I willna let them take ye.” Jamie laughed grabbing me by the waist before I was trapped under his lips.

The cool mid-autumn air slightly burned inside of my throat when I inhaled too deeply. Not being used to such fresh, crisp sensation I coughed feeling my eyes water. Jamie who walked next to me, kicking the leaves with his shoes, squeezed my hand softly.

“Yer okay, mo nighean donn?”

I liked the sound of the Gaelic he spoke sometimes. His ability to fluidly incorporate it into his speech when he spoke to me made me long to hear it even more. Made me long for him. There was something about the way he sounded. The soft lilt of his voice, the deepness of his accent with a trace of huskiness that poisoned my blood with curiosity and mystery. I was dying to know what he was saying but also wished it to remain a secret. But I could not resist.

“Jamie, what you just said, what does it mean?”

Jamie stopped turning me to face him. His warm breath travelled upon my skin as his forehead leaned to meet mine. He smiled lips curling into a soft shape.

“It means my brown-haired lass.”

“Rather a dull colour I always thought,” I whispered, the pink blooming in my cheeks.

His lips brushed mine. Hands tangling around his neck, I kissed back, fingers running along with the soft curls on his nape.

“No,” Jamie’s finger gently touched a stray curl on my cheek. “No, not dull at all. It’s like the water in a burn, the way it ruffles down the rocks. Dark in the wavy spots with wee bits of auburn when the sun touches it.”

I knew this wasn’t just a crush on him. I was well and truly smitten. There was such a serenity when he was around that I could not imagine how should I carry on if he suddenly disappeared. My heart was swelling with my feelings growing with something that one day I could name as love. And I was unquestionably petrified but with him, there was nothing I could be afraid of.

Every time he looked at me like that, the world seemed to stop.When he kissed me, I felt breathless as if all the air from my lungs. His presence, his being was stretching throughout my whole body wrapping around my heart and cradling my soul between his hands. How could I not be falling in love with this man?

 Jamie softly kissed her temple when she closed her eyes. His heart leapt as he held her like that. They stood there in the middle of nowhere, with the mountain rising above them, golden leaves falling down. They were spiralling all the way to the ground as the signs of a bright future life holds for them. The way Claire’s body melted into his, her chin rested at the crook of his neck, Jamie’s hands holding her waist tightly. It was more intimate than anything else they’d done already.

“Claire, about what ye said yesterday,” He spoke quietly into her hair. “Do ye really feel that way?”

Her words echoed in his fevered mind. ‘I fancy you. Very much.’

She nodded.

A romantic inside Jamie wanted to tell her that he loved her from the first moment Claire’s solid head bumped into him but he nodded back tightening his grip on her.

The mountains rose high into the blue. We passed fields with yellowish grass, still wet with morning dew making our shoes damp; It was a glorious expanse of dried grass softly rustling in the wind bending over where we walked creating a pathway.

When my fingers became cold and numb from the freezing Highlands wind Jamie untangled our hands to share the pocket of his jacket with me. We ate a tuna sandwich and vinegar crisps on the wooden bench that stood in the valley near an abandoned cabin. Jamie spilled half of our coffee from the tumbler he prepared. I stifled a need to laugh at him, my thumb gently sweeping away sandwich crumbs from his lower lip. My lips chapped from the wind but Jamie’s touch soothed the burning sensation.

“Ye ken that Loch Lomond,” Jamie pointed to the left where in the distance a great lake stretched out. “Is the largest water lake in British Isles?”

“It surely looks like it,” I smiled looking at the dark water on the horizon. “How do you know so much?”

Jamie chuckled speeding up in front of me to let me pass in safety then, with the help of his steady hand.

“I grew up in the countryside, Sassenach. That’s where I belong. That’s what I love. A Scot must know his history.”

“You know, you would be one of those Highlander warriors in the past for sure.” Laughing, I pinched his biceps.

When we reached the blanket of trees at the base of the mountain, the sun started to go down in the horizon. The sky almost vanished in the forest leaving us with small glimpses of the blue coming through the thickness of pines above us. We took at least a hundred awful selfies during our four-hour hike. I spied a flower that bloomed in all possible shades of purple. Crouching down, I took a picture of it so I could look it up later.

I heard the leaves rustling under Jamie’s feet when he appeared next to me holding out his phone.

“I, er… I... I need to take a pish,” Jamie announced shyly. “Dinna want to drop it down the rocks”

“Smart.” I chuckled hiding his iPhone into the depths of my jeans pocket. 

The mist started to gather around covering the ground with a smoky quilt. I inhaled fresh air perfumed with the rich fragrances of the trees and plants. It was filled with a promise of coming rain clouds ready to burst any moment. I mentally estimated how long we have to get to the cottage before we got soaking wet.

The buzz of Jamie’s phone took me out of my thoughts. Not sure what to do, I fished it out my pocket. 

“Jamie, you got a text!” I shouted into the tall trees startling a lonely bird from the bush.

“Who’s it from?” His voice echoed back somewhere from the left. 

Hesitating for a few seconds I looked down at the screen to see the message. Involuntarily my eyes ran along two lines of letters.

“How are u, mo ghraidh? Dougal popped by, said he canna reach ye, it was urgent. I guessed ye didna have a connection there. Xx.”

The box From said Jen with two emojis -a heart and a house. It was Jenny.

“It’s your sister.” I handed him the phone when he came out brushing off the pine needles from his pants.

When we were going down I wondered what those words meant that Jenny had called him. It was something he’d said to me once before. While Jamie was telling me something about the castle that we could see from our path I googled the meaning of Gaelic that I could not understand. 

It said, “My love” and my heart sank down my chest and then almost broke free out of it ready to burst with happiness.

My love.

* * *

The countryside stretched itself around us in brown, golden and burgundy stains of colours. The hills rolled in soft waves of yellow grass meeting the ground in the valleys with hidden flora.

We walked back in companionable silence holding our hands, fingers securely tangled together, not breaking that needed contact between us.

When there was less than a kilometre until we get to the house the grey skies grumbled with anger. The heavy clouds no longer wanted to wait and cold drops started to fall down as gunfire. In no time it turned into a heavy storm soaking the ground beneath us until it was soft and slippery under our feet. The downpour of water felt icy cold and we had to run lest we get completely wet. The wind howled muting our laughs but for once in the longest time, I felt reckless and happy.

Jamie went to the bedroom peeling off his clothes that stuck to the skin. I followed in suit, not wishing to catch a cold and left a damp pile of clothes on the floor. While I had the time I filled the bathtub with steaming water. Turning off the main light the room went into the warm glow of the candles I’d managed to find in the cabinet in the living room. They were half used, the wax melted into peculiar figures. I had placed them in the corners near the windows and popped a couple on the bathtub sides. Sliding down the water, my eyes closed at the feeling of heat soaking into me. I physically could feel each muscle in my body relax and become numb, limp. 

Jamie stood in a doorway looking at me quietly. In this light, he reminded me of a Greek statue. He was beautifully made. With long, graceful bones and flat muscles that flowed smoothly from the curves of chest and shoulder to the slight concavities of belly and thigh. He was fair with bits of freckles but slightly touched by the sun, toned in a way that reminded me floral honey.

“Come here,” I spoke quietly lifting my hand up from the depths of the water.

He walked over slowly, stepping gracefully as a cat, not breaking our gaze. I felt a tight knot in the bottom of my belly starting to ache just by looking at him. Soon his boxers were left aside together with the puddle of my clothes. The water raised slightly when Jamie got in, sitting behind me, my back pressed to his chest. His hands roamed on the water slick sides of my thighs and my head dropped down his shoulder. I hummed an appreciative ‘hmmm’ at his touch. It felt soothing and much needed after our long hike.

“I must tell ye something, Sassenach.” His voice sounded husky. It was the tone that pulled at the deepest strings inside me. “I’m sure ye bewitched me. Cause for God’s sake I canna imagine how I managed to live without ye before.”

My head turned slightly to the left as my lips had found the column of his neck. I loved to touch him. But not just in a sexual way. Being with him, simply existing in the same space, in a distance of millimetres of each other. This became my everyday dose of oxygen. I craved him. All of him. Including his soul and heart and all of his body. He seeped deep into my being and would remain there forever I was sure of it. And I could not remember life before him anymore. As it simply could not be there without James Fraser. I ached for him every time we separated and I would be a damn fool to deny that.

“I think I can’t imagine that either,” I whispered kissing my way down his torso. When he was well-loved with my lips, my mouth and hands Jamie pulled me up cradling my face between his palms.

“I could love ye, Claire. I could love ye well.”

I exhaled feeling his moist full lips tracing my collarbone. When Jamie lifted me up from the water that became our shelter of warmth and my hands circled around his neck I remembered.

When Jamie kissed the tip of my nose I remembered twisting my ankle two years ago on the slippery grocery store tile after the rain.

When his hands held me tightly, the drops scattering off my body I remembered calling first Geillis asking to bring me to A&E. 

When Jamie’s lips softly touched my forehead I remembered that I called Frank but he did not pick up being busy at the meeting.

When Jamie passed the first stair I remembered I stayed home and felt lonely.

When Jamie’s lips dragged down my neck I remembered that Frank had left to the conference in London saying that he’d call me several times a day to check on me.

When Jamie gently laid me down the bed I remembered feeling awfully lonely despite Frank’s words of reassurance and support, calls and promise to come back soon.

When Jamie’s thumb brushed over my nipple I remembered feeling empty.

When Jamie held me I felt safe. And when he leaned in to kiss me I whispered into his lips.

“I could love you too. I could love you well.”

#outlander #once i was an eagle #outlander fic #outlander fanfic #maviemesregles #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #the frasers #modern au #these babies

[brightbeautifulthings]

Week 1 | Week 2-3 | Week 4-5 | Week 6-7 | Week 8-9 | Week 10-11 | Week 12-13 | Week 14-15 | Week 16-17 | Week 18-19

Week 20 (p. 651-808)

"Hal himself hasn't had a bona fide intensity-of-interior-life-type emotion since he was tiny; he finds terms like joie and value to be like so many variables in rarified equations, and he can manipulate them well enough to satisfy everyone but himself that he's in there, inside his own hull, as a human being -- but in fact he's far more robotic than John Wayne" (p. 694).

I'm pretty much over this week-to-week business. Now that the end is in sight (roughly 300 pages), I'm abandoning the schedule and reading as much as I can. Scheduling reading has only ever worked for me as far as it goes. I prefer to immerse myself, however much a novel like IJ seems to discourage that. The book is always structurally interesting, but it starts to get more complicated now as various characters and plots begin to almost slide into one another. There's a cool series of scenes where Matty Pemulis observes Poor Tony, Kate Gompert, and Ruth van Cleve pass by, with Lenz running around the fringes, where pretty soon all the paths intersect at some point, with or without the characters (or the reader) noticing. There's a lot in here about J.O.I.'s films, which seem increasingly unnecessary (but so much of the book is, and is meant to be). The section on the Incandenza family from Joelle's perspective provides some of the clearest insight we have of them, and they are indeed one of the saddest families in literature. We also get Joelle's history from Molly Notkin, both interestingly told from outside perspectives, as if main characters can't be trusted to see their own families clearly.

Week 21 (p. 809-981)

I forgot how totally frustrating it is to near the end of this book and realize the plot isn't going to wrap up in any sort of satisfying way. Wallace commented in an interview (I forget which) that he didn't need to talk about what happens at the end of the book because we know what happens. Buddy, YOU know what happens. The rest of us are here flailing about trying to fit a thousand pieces together, as I suppose we're meant to. We know that the A.F.R. is planning to infiltrate Enfield by the end of the novel, that Poutrincourt is one of their spies ("...which is the slip that indicates that Poutrincourt's figured out that Steeply is neither a civilian soft-profiler nor even a female ... and would require an almost professionally hypervigilant and suspicious person to notice the significance of" p. 1052)., and that John Wayne has some vague connection besides simply being Canadian. We know that, given Orin's capture at the end, they will probably have a Master copy of the Entertainment very soon. What we don't know is how that all goes down, what the fallout is for O.N.A.N., or how Hal gets to be in the state he is in the first chapter (DMZ? AFR? I still can't decide).

"...but it couldn't ordinarily affect anybody or anything solid, and it could never speak right to anybody, a wraith had no out-loud voice of its own, and had to use somebody's like internal brain-voice if it wanted to try to communicate with something, which was why thoughts and insights that were coming from some wraith always just sound like your own thoughts, from inside your own head, if a wraith's trying to interface with you" (p. 831).

This seems like the most compelling motive for J.O.I. to want to dose Hal with DMZ, if in fact he did. Wraiths can only talk to someone who has slowed way down and is no longer experiencing time the way humans normally do--which sounds exactly like what happens when someone ingests DMZ. By the end of the novel (the beginning chapter), we know that Hal can no longer communicate with the outside world, but that there's nothing wrong with his brain voice ("I am in here" p. 3). Will Hal and Jim finally get to have a conversation?

It's clearer than ever that something has happened to Hal though. I don't know if there's any support for the DMZ toothbrush theory--I was actively looking for it and didn't find any, other than the DMZ obviously being missing when Pemulis goes to get it and Hal and other E.T.A. kids vigilantly guarding their toothbrushes. If it's true, it's a leap, but making a leap may be the only way to make sense of that particular conundrum. Whatever has happened is getting worse, as people continually interpret Hal's facial expressions as either very sad or very amused, when we know he's neither. Most tellingly, the narrative switches to first person point of view, Hal telling his own story for the first time (chronologically, if not structurally).

"He dreams he's with a very sad kid and they're in a graveyard digging some dead guy's head up and it's really important, like Continental-Emergency important ... and the sad kid is trying to scream at Gately that the important thing was buried in the guy's head and to divert the Continental Emergency to start digging the guy's head up before it's too late, but the kid moves his mouth and nothing comes out ... while the sad kid holds something terrible up by the hair and makes the face of somebody shouting in panic: Too Late" (p. 934).

It seems like Gately eventually recovers, since we know he goes with Hal to help dig up J.O.I.'s head (verified in chapter one when Hal recalls it). It's possible the Wraith told him about the Entertainment, and this seems especially plausible when Gately somehow knows the plot of the Entertainment while he's still lying in the hospital. It's also possible that Joelle told him about it; through her conversation with Steeply (p. 940), we know that she knew the Masters were buried with Himself--which, ironically, is now buried in the Great Concavity. I'm still not clear about how John Wayne got involved, but there's this super oblique comment in an endnote about Bernard Wayne, a potential A.F.R. member who had not jumped when the train arrived and later drowned (p. 1060), which could potentially be John's father or grandfather.

I had forgotten that the 'Swiss' hand model was actually Luria P----. There are two obvious nods to other novels near the end here, with Fackelmann's A Clockwork Orange style end, and Orin's business with the cockroaches echoing the rats in 1984, specifically his nonsensical shouting "'Do it to her!'" (p. 972). Her who? Luria? Avril? All Subjects in general? I'm a little curious as to why Wallace bothered to make the references. He was doing well on the graphic horror all on his own, no need for outside references.

I'm amused by how many of my questions in my Q and A section are still unanswered. I thought if I paid closer attention on a second read that I would pick up more of the plot things I'd missed on my first, but I don't think that was the problem. I think it's that those answers simply aren't to be found in the actual text. Of course, they can point us toward various conclusions, and the novel certainly encourages us to speculate and make connections, but I don't think the actual answers are there. I have some more thoughts on this, and I'll likely have a review up this week or next.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. TURN BACK BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.

Questions & Working Theories

[tw: drug mention, infidelity, incest, statutory rape]

Q: What happened to Hal? (Obvi) - Hal purposely ate the DMZ. He even says in this section, “I cannot make myself understood, now. Call it something I ate” (p. 10). I never bought this explanation, though, because later in the book it seems like Hal is making an effort to come off drugs. - The mold Hal ate as a child had long-term effects, and something (coming off drugs?) may have triggered his current condition. Also supported by, “Call it something I ate” (p. 10). - Aaron Swartz has a very convincing theory that Hal accidentally ate the DMZ when The Wraith placed it on his toothbrush. (Again, supported by above.) Hal is an excellent communicator but lacks feelings, and J.O.I. was attempting to create something that would draw his son out of himself. - Hal was injured when the A.F.R. attacked Enfield Tennis Academy. There’s a weird line in this chapter: “I once saw the word KNIFE finger-written on the steamed mirror of a nonpublic bathroom” (p. 16). This is likely also the work of The Wraith, indicating some kind of violence, perhaps the A.F.R. attack on Enfield. - "A surreal memory of a steamed lavatory mirror with a knife sticking out of the pane" (p. 951). A: Still unclear, but I'm leaning more toward DMZ than A.F.R. on this read. We can see Hal's symptoms growing worse from the Eschaton game onward, and in the last chapters, people think he's either laughing or grimacing when he's not feeling either of those things. Still super interested in the mirror/knife asides though. Is this part of the A.F.R. attack?

Q: Why was Hal hospitalized “almost exactly one year back” (p. 16)? - The side effects of the DMZ were first starting to appear. - Hal was injured in the A.F.R. attack. - It’s clear, also, that this was when Hal met Gately. Although they never have an on-page scene together, Hal refers to the two of them attempting to dig up J.O.I.’s head to find the Entertainment, alongside a masked John Wayne. A: Unclear. See above.

Q: How did Gately, Hal, and John find out about the Entertainment in order to dig it up? How did they discover where it was hidden? - Himself actually mentions that the cartridge has been implanted in his head when he’s talking to Hal as a posed conversationalist. However, this is all the way back in the Year of the Tucks Medicated Pad, when Hal is only ten-going-on-eleven. Hard to imagine that Hal remembered what was basically a throw-away comment, let alone understood its meaning. - The Wraith may have told Gately about it while he was lying in the hospital, the same way Gately somehow knows the plot of the Entertainment while he's there. - Joelle may have told them about it, since from her conversation with Steeply, we know that she knows that all the Masters were buried with Jim, which is now buried in the Great Concavity. A: Unclear, but several plausible scenarios.

Q: Who is mailing out the Entertainment? - Swartz suggests that it’s Orin Incandenza, who later under threat of torture releases it to the A.F.R. This seems well-supported by the text, since the initial cartridge is mailed from Arizona, and it’s conveniently sent to a medical attaché with whom Avril probably had an affair (per J.O.I.’s conversation with Hal). - Some support for this theory during one of Hal and Orin's phone conversations: "'What are you doing going to the post office? You hate snail-mail. And you quit mailing the Moms the pseudo-form-replies two years ago, Mario says'" (p. 244). Why is Orin at the post office, if not to mail more copies of the Entertainment? - However, as Marie pointed out, we don't know for sure that Orin was in Arizona in April YDAU. He's there in October, but there's a flashback of him in New Orleans in July that doesn't mention the year. If it was YDAU, Orin couldn't have postmarked the Cartridge from Arizona in April. - Orin also asks Hal directly about the days leading up to Himself's death, and he seems suspiciously interested in whatever film he was working on. "'Did he have film-related things with him when he flew somewhere? A film case? Equipment?'" (p. 250). However, if he already knew about the Entertainment back in April, why ask Hal about it in November? - This conversation is continued in a lengthy endnote where Orin asks about the definition of samizdat ("the generic meaning now is any sort of politically underground or beyond-the-pale press or the stuff published thereby" (p. 1011) and comments, "'So you'd have no idea why The Mad Stork's name would come up in connection with somebody saying samizdat?'" (p. 1011). Again, it's suspicious that he's even asking, but also, if he already knows about the Entertainment, why bother to ask? Is he trying to find out, or just trying to find out what Hal knows about it? Why? - "...place the likely dissemination-point someplace along the U.S. north border, with routing hubs in metro Boston/New Bedford and/or somewhere in the desert Southwest" (p. 549). Obviously, the Southwest could be Orin, but who's distributing it in Boston? Orin before he moved? I'd guess the Antitoi brothers, but their copy turned out to be blank (or seemed to be, if it was played on the wrong model). Orin has motive to want the medical attache dead for the affair with his mother, but why the film scholar, the avant-garde film festival, and the members of the Academy of D.A.S.? Were these Himself's rivals, or people Avril also had affairs with? - "Swiss cuckolds, furtive near-Eastern medical attachés, zaftig print-journalists: he felt ready for anything" (p. 597). - "There was reason to think M. DuPlessis had received his original copies from this relative, an athlete. Marathe felt U.S.B.S.S. felt this person may have borne responsibility for the razzles and dazzles of Berkeley and Boston, U.S.A." (p. 723). Did Orin give a copy to DuPlessis, or did he send it to him to kill him? A: It seems pretty clear on a re-read that it is Orin sending out the Entertainment, either from Boston before he left it or from Arizona where he currently lives, or both. I'm still not clear how he knew about it in the first place though, in order to dig it up. Between Orin's capture/torture at the end and the Antitoi brothers' having copies of DuPlessis's stolen cartridges, it seems certain that the A.F.R. will soon locate a Master copy. (The Antitoi's turns out to be Read-Only p. 725.)

Q: How did Orin find out about the Entertainment? - Joelle might have told him, though this was after her disfigurement and their breakup, so I'm not sure why she would. A: Unclear.

Q: When did Orin transfer from New Orleans to Arizona? - In June YW-QMD, Orin was still with the New Orleans Saints, per the mail between him and Avril (p. 1006-7). - In October YDAU, he's in Arizona. Q: Unclear.

Q: What happened to John Wayne that he can’t win this year’s WhataBurger competition? A: SUPER UNCLEAR. Thanks for nothing. We know he survived the A.F.R. attack (if Steeply didn’t stop the attack) because he’s in the off-page graveyard scene with Hal and Gately. Was he an A.F.R. target after that for going against them?

Q: What “sordid liaison” (p. 30) with the M. DuPlessis, who dies in a later chapter, did the Incandenza family have? - Still not clear, but it sounds like J.O.I. either purposely or under duress gave a Master copy (or copyable copy) of the Entertainment to DuPlessis, or had it stolen from him before or after his death, and it was then stolen by accident when Gately robbed and killed DuPlessis. ("Whether or not the A.F.R. ever even recover this alleged Master copy from the DuPlessis burglary..." (p. 489).) A: Best guess is that Avril had an affair with DuPlessis, Orin/Jim discovered the affair (possibly with a name written on the fogged up glass of Avril's car), and Orin sent him a copy to kill him, which he didn't watch (because he died? Not clear on the timeline). The copy was then stolen by Gately and ended up with the Antitoi brothers.

Q: Is Marathe a double-agent, or is he just pretending to be a double agent? - Marathe has betrayed the A.F.R. and is aiding Steeply and the Americans in finding the Entertainment in order to get medical care for his wife. - Marathe is only pretending to betray the A.F.R. in order to get more information from Steeply. A: Marathe is a double-agent, and is actually betraying the A.F.R. "The A.F.R. believed Marathe functioned as a triple agent, pretending to betray his nation for his wife, memorizing every detail of the meetings with B.S.S. ... M. Fortier did not know Marathe had reached the internal choice that he loved his skull-deprived and heart-defective wife Gertraud Marathe more than he loved the Separatist and anti-O.N.A.N. cause of the nation of Québec..." (p. 529).

Q: Where did the tripod set up in the middle of nowhere on the ETA grounds come from? - The U.S.S. Millicent Kent set up the tripod as an excuse to get Mario alone. - This is the possibly the first instance of the Wraith's work. He's responsible for most of the odd occurrences at ETA, and "Mario said his late dad had used a somewhat less snazzy IV-model Husky back in his early days of making art-films..." (p. 122).) A: The Wraith put it there. "But it's true. The Husky VI tripod of Mario's near-fatal encounter with the U.S.S. Millicent Kent was only the beginning" (p. 632). After this, the instances of objects being in odd places around E.T.A. increases dramatically.

Q: Who is the narrator in some of these sections about ETA? - It's a distinct voice from the sections that have conversations, but it also sounds a little like someone talking to us. ("I want to be like that. Able to just sit all quiet and pull life toward me..." (p. 128). Is this a character? A: Unclear. The only clear first person POV character we have in the novel is Hal. In some ways, the narrator's voice does sound a lot like Hal's, but if this is the case, he also discusses himself in third person a lot (which... Hal is pretty removed from himself, so that's not entirely impossible). I'm not confident enough to say that Hal is the mystery narrator throughout the book though.

Q: Are the effects of DMZ the effects we see in Hal in the first chapter? A: Very likely. Whatever starts in the Eschaton game grows worse toward the end of the novel, as people continually interpret Hal's facial expressions as either very sad or very amused, when we know he's neither. Most tellingly, the narrative switches to first person point of view, Hal telling his own story for the first time (chronologically, if not structurally).

Q: Why do Hal's symptoms in the Eschaton game seem more like DMZ side effects than marijuana side effects? Was there DMZ mixed with it? Was it purposely mixed in, or was it the work of the Wraith? - This is the first time we see Hal with similar symptoms as the ones he has in the first chapter, which seems to suggest that--whether or not the DMZ and marijuana are related, whether it was intentional or not--Hal did take the DMZ on Interdependence Day YDAU. - Pemulis goes looking for the DMZ later on, which seems to suggest it wasn't intentional, at least not on his end. Hal also doesn't consciously acknowledge that he's going to take it in this chapter either. - Mario reflecting on his brother: "He can't tell if Hal is sad. He is having a harder and harder time reading Hal's state of mind or whether he's in good spirits. This worries him. He used to be able to sort of preverbally know in his stomach generally where Hal was and what he was doing, even if Hal was far away and playing or if Mario was away, and now he can't anymore" (p. 590). Why the change? DMZ-related? - "But the crisis of faith that cost Stice the match had concerned a different Hal, Hal can tell. It's now a whole new Hal, a Hal who does not get high, or hide, a Hal who in 29 days is going to hand his own personal urine over to authority figures with a wide smile and exemplary posture and not a secretive thought in his head" (p. 635). If Hal took the DMZ on purpose, does he know it will be out of his system in a month? What else could have created a "whole new Hal"? It seems like a leap to think that quitting marijuana is the sole cause of all the changes. A: Very likely that Hal took DMZ, maybe more than once, starting at the Eschaton game.

Q: Who is Mario's father, Jim or Charles? - This is more of a detail question than anything because I'm not sure I care about the answer. It certainly doesn't seem to matter to Mario. He obviously bonded a lot with Jim over film in a way that seems almost worshipful at times, and I'm always in the camp of family is who you choose, not necessarily who you're related to. Also, Charles seems repelled by Mario, whereas Jim apparently loved him and spent time with him, so fuck Charles. A: Unclear.

Q: Is Charles Avril's half-brother or step-brother? - Again, this is a detail question, although one is significantly grosser than the other if they're having an affair, which it sounds like they are/were. ("...the thing it's not entirely impossible he may have fathered asleep up next to the sound system..." (p. 451).) That’s... not really a question if they weren’t sleeping together. Fuck you twice, Charles. - "Charles Tavis is probably not related to the Moms by actual blood" (p. 900). A: According to Hal, he's most likely her step-brother, though it doesn't seem like anyone ever cared enough to verify this.

Q: Was Pemulis selling DMZ to the Antitoi brothers, or buying it from them? - "Bertraund had been starry-eyed enough to agree to barter the person an antique blue lava-lamp and a lavender-tinged apothecary's mirror for eighteen unexceptional-looking and old lozenges the long-haired old person had claimed in a jumble of West-Swiss-accented French were 650 mg. of a trop-formidable harmful pharmaceutical no longer available and guaranteed to make one's most hair-raising psychedelic experience look like a day on the massage-tables of a Basel hot-springs resort..." (p. 482) A: Unclear, but I'm guessing buying, since Pemulis ends up with it and, as far as we know, the Antitoi brothers don't.

Q: What's the significance of Lucien Antitoi's spirit immediately after his death? Does this have an impact on the Wraith's activities? - "...and is free, catapulted home over fans and the Convexity's glass palisades at desperate speeds, soaring north, sounding a bell-clear and nearly maternal alarmed call-to-arms in all the world's well-known tongues" (p. 489). A: It seems like the Wraith's activities amplify after Lucien's death. If he knows that Hal is in danger from the A.F.R., he might be trying to rally Gately to help.

Q: If Pemulis has Avril's affair with John Wayne to hold over her, why is he still expelled at the end of the novel? A: WOOPS. Peemster accidentally dosed John with 'drines, as well as his very public tennis opponent. Can't help feeling Pemulis unfairly got the worst of it, while Avril got in zero trouble for having an affair with a teenage student. Also, hilariously, Hal already knew about the affair and didn't care about it.

Q: What's up with John Wayne and Hal? - "...John ('N.R.') Wayne opened up the ajar door a little more and put his whole head in and stayed like that, with just his head in. He didn't say anything and Hal didn't say anything, and they stayed like that for a while, and then Wayne's head smoothly withdrew" (p. 560). - "I could somehow tell for sure that John Wayne's head was inside the open door. I could feel it clearly, almost painfully. He was looking down at me lying there on the Lindisfarne carpet. There was none of the gathering tension of a person deciding whether or not to speak. I could feel my throat's equipment move when I swallowed. John Wayne and I never had much to say to one another. There wasn't even hostility between us" (p. 956). A: No idea. There’s the possibility that John is a spy for the A.F.R. the same as Poutrincourt, but I’d thought they had to infiltrate the tennis academy because they didn’t have another spy already in place. Thanks to the weird endnote, we know he has some connection, but I’m not totally sure what it is.

Q: Do Pemulis's descriptions of the effects of annulation have anything to do with how DMZ affects people, or the effect the mold Hal ate as a child had on him? It seems oddly similar to how Hal is experiencing time in the first chapter. Is this how J.O.I. stumbled onto it? - "'Accelerated phenomena, which is actually equivalent to an incredible slowing down of time", "relativity of time in extreme organic environments" (p. 573). A: Could be one of a million metaphors in this book.

#infinite jest #david foster wallace #infinite slow summer #infinite summer #infinite jest readalong #yrstruly

[witharsenicsauce]

Chosen Stories From the War #26: The House That Death Forgot, Part 2

(Content Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of broken bones/gore)

“This is Taymallat. I am alive-”

“This is Taymallat. I am alive-”

“I am alive-”

Annette hit the stop button on the recording, sighing as she did. “I was hoping no one would hear it.”

“Then why did you send it?” Gur-Rai crossed his arms and began to lean back against the wall, but stopped himself.. They were back in the hidden room, the door only partially closed as they weren’t sure they’d ever get it open if they shut it all the way. Dhar-Mon had cleared away some of the cobwebs, but it was still dark and airless, not a window in sight.

“Because I had just arrived here.” Annette looked exhausted. “I didn’t know.”

“About the girl?” Kon-Mai asked. “How much of a threat does she pose?”

“More than you could realize.” Annette didn’t look at the Chosen when she spoke to them. Though Zhang had explained to her that these aliens were on their side, she still seemed wary. “I arrived here on the 18th of August in 2038. If it is indeed 2040 as you say…” Annette swallowed, her throat dry, and looked at her hands. “Then I have been here nearly 2 years.”

“Why didn’t you just leave?” Bryni asked. “Sure that gate’s a bit rusty, but from what I hear, there’s a back way.”

Annette shook her head. “ You really should not have come.” She hissed. “I know about the back garden. I know about the sewers, and vents. I even scaled the gate, and the walls themselves. And each time, I would turn around and be right back where I started, as though the world had inverted itself. There is no leaving this place.”

In the silence that hung in the air, Kon-Mai stood. “There must be a way.” She declared. “If there is escape from the Elders, then there is certainly escape from this Hell.”

“Escaping the Elders nearly took our deaths.” Dhar-Mon mentioned as he stood up. “I would not be so flippant with this.”

“Either way, we won’t get anything done sitting in this box.” Gur-Rai slid the door open, poked his head out, and nodded. “Coast is clear. Taymallat, did you do any exploring in the two years you were here?”

“As much as I could while fleeing a psychotic woman with a shotgun.” With her finger and began drawing in the dust on the ground. “The house is technically four stories. We are on the second floor, you’ve seen the first with the foyer.” She drew a roof. “But there is an attic, here under the roof, and down this way is the basement. I believe there may be a fifth level under that as well.”

“What makes you believe so?” Kon-Mai asked as she leaned in close.

“Once while I was hiding in the wine cellar, I found a large door hidden behind shelves and barricaded with strong wood.” Annette answered. “I couldn’t get it open though, even with my power…”

Gur-Rai chuckled. “What do you think, Brother? Can you rip a door off its hinges?”

Dhar-Mon sighed. “You insult me, Brother, to insinuate I am only useful for my brawn.”

“Oh hey now, I never said that.” Gur-Rai walked over and wrapped his arms around Dhar-Mon from behind, resting his chin on top of his big brother’s head. “You’re also the best cook I’ve ever known.”

Annette looked between the three Chosen. “You three are related?”

“Yes.” Kon-Mai raised a brow. “What revealed it, our coloring?”

“I should have guessed.” Annette looked closer. “Same nose. Same eyes. And you two.” She pointed between Kon-Mai and Gur-Rai. “You have the same chin.”

“No mention of cheekbones?” Gur-Rai chuckled. “They’re our best feature if I do say so myself.”

Annette got to her feet, approaching Zhang who stood with his back against the wall, seemingly not bothered by the dust. “...Do you trust them?” She whispered.

Zhang raised a brow.

“I do not like working with aliens, even if they look so human.” She gave Gur-Rai a side eye glance, and he smirked at her. “But if you trust them, I’ll bite my tongue.”

Zhang looked over at Kon-Mai, who had to remain crouched because she was taller than the ceiling.

“Do you trust them, Chilong?” Annette asked. “Can I trust them?”

Zhang swallowed the dry lump in his throat. “...Yes.”  He said quietly. “The Commander herself selected them.”

Annette’s eyebrows shot up, and then she chuckled. “Oh Sunny, qu'est-ce que tu fais?” She turned to the Chosen and nodded. “You are right, we should not stay here. If she finds us we are sitting ducks..”

“Shame. This was such a good hiding spot.” Gur-Rai quipped as they fileb back out into the hall. “What’s our plan, Colonel?”

Zhang sighed, gazing around the house, the familiar walls, that used to be covered in pictures of them. “...Basement.” He said. “We’re going to get that door open.”

.

.

The basement was dark, damp, and smelled of rot. Dhar-Mon could see more spiders in the corners, and Gur-Rai had to flick away a cockroach skittering up his leg. The stone walls held the dirt at bay, but they could see roots growing through the cracks in the rocks. The wine cellar, perhaps once a thing of beauty that held a collection of the finest wine, was overgrown with moss and dust, hiding the bottles in a layer of grime.

“It’s behind there.” Annette pointed to one of the shelves decorated with bottles. “I managed to move the shelf, but the door behind it is stuck tight.”

Dhar-Mon stepped closer and...staggered. As he drew within range of the entrance, the smell of rotting eggs and metal hit him full force, making him feel deeply sick.

Gur-Rai jumped forward and caught his brother by the arm. “Woah, easy there. You okay?”

Dhar-Mon nodded, but the world was still spinning. “...The air in this place is old.” He said. “I am...simply breathless.”

Kon-Mai stepped up, took the shelf by the edge, and hauled it to one side. It slid part of the way, unblocking a corner of the door. She looked up at the others, a brow raised, and Zhang came over to help her. Taking hold of the other side, he shoved it in tandem with her, and the doorway cleared.

Doorway was a loose term. The “door” was made of thick stone, and looked like it might have had a handle once, but that was long gone. As the shelf was pulled away, the smell of rot grew stronger, and Dhar-Mon fought the urge to double over.

“This is where I got stuck.” Annette said. “I couldn't get through the door on my own.”

“It’s barely a door.” Bryni said, knocking on the stone. “Amontillado! Ya in there?” She chuckled.

“If I shoot it it might come down.” Gur-Rai reached for his gun.

“It might also bring the ceiling down on top of us.” Kon-Mai replied. “Brothers. Colonel Zhang. Let us join our power.”

Zhang looked at her skeptically.

“That is how we opened the door to rescue you.” She explained, putting her hand on the stone. “Perhaps alone we are not strong enough, but together…”

“I’ve never been a good psion, but it’s worth a shot.” Gur-Rai stepped up beside his sister. “You coming, Brother?”

Dhar-Mon hesitated: every cell in his body was screaming at him to turn around, run, run away from this cursed place, and do not open that door, but he still put his hand on the stone beside them and closed his eyes. Behind him, he felt Malinalli’s touch on his back, and all of a sudden felt a bit more at ease.

The door jolted, then slowly slid open. The Shrinemaiden stepped back, letting Gur-Rai peek his head inside. Dhar-Mon almost stumbled back against Malinalli, the stench of sulfur suddenly engulfing him. His ears were ringing and under the screeching, he heard a rising growl.

Gur-Rai drew his gun, undoubtedly feeling the surge of psionic energy as he took one step inside the pitch black room. “...Hello?”

Nothing. For a moment, it seemed as though they had imagined it.

Then a growl came from the darkness, and four weathered, clawed hands dragged their way into the light. Kon-Mai stumbled backwards into Zhang, her heart pounding.

From behind them, a scream. Annette drew her gun whirled around, pointing it at the girl in the blue skirt, who had come up behind them silently. She was slightly dirty and her shirt was torn but, for falling such a way, there were no injuries anyone could see. She cocked her own shotgun, pointing it not at them, but past them into the black room.

“Ano ang ginawa mo?!” She screamed. “Pinakawalan mo siya!”

“What is she saying?” Kon-Mai demanded, drawing her blade.

“I don’t know!” Annette snapped as she removed the safety on her gun. But before the three could lunge at each other, a rumbling groan shook the very foundation of the house.

“She said…” Zhang cried as he stumbled “...We released ‘him’.”

It was then that Gur-Rai let out a scream, and Dhar-Mon dove in and grabbed his brother by the arm. One of the gnarled limbs had taken Gur-Rai by the leg and was attempting to drag him into the darkness. He fired a shot at the unseen enemy, but it’s grip did not even falter, and it’s hold on him grew even tighter.

Kon-Mai sprang into action, letting out a catlike hiss as she dove forward and sliced off the limb that was attached to her brother’s leg. The creature cried out in agony, and as the limp arm dropped, purple ichor seeped into the floor. From the darkness, a pair of lilac eyes opened and glared at them.

“What the fuck is that?!” Gur-Rai spate as he scrambled back to safety, not sure if he should aim at the girl who had a gun pointed at him, or the monster that was trying to drag him to Hell.

The other three hands sprang forth, searching wildly for something—or someone—to grab onto. Zhang barely managed to duck out of the way of it’s grasp, leading it to clutch the edges of the door frame. With all it’s dormant strength, the creature pulled itself forward, growling as it emerged into the light.

Perhaps growling was the wrong word: the creature had no mouth, and the noises it made could rather be heard deep in the souls of all who stood close. Tattered robes hung off it’s emaciated body, and rather than walk, it hovered toward them like a ghost.

“It can’t be…” Bryni gasped. “That’s…”

“An Elder.” Dhar-Mon was as pale as the moon, his eyes wide with total abject horror. Kon-Mai stumbled backward, her breathing quickening against her will and her body shaking like a leaf in a storm. As he was perhaps the only one still with his faculties, Gur-Rai got to his feet and grabbed his siblings by their arms. 

“RUN!”

They did not need to be told twice. 

Bryni, Annette, Malinalli, all three Chosen, and Colonel Zhang all took off up the stairs. Zhang looked around, searching for the girl in the blue skirt, but she had already disappeared like the wind.

Behind them, they heard the walls of the basement crumble, and a plume of dust erupted as the Elder, barely more than a mummified corpse, burst out from the rubble and used it’s bent limbs to drag it’s body through the wooden hallways, crawling almost as fast as the group ran. Annette ducked into a small room to their left and Bryni and Zhang followed, but the Chosen and Malinalli seemed to not notice, focusing only on sprinting as fast as they could.

The Chosen were fast; with their long legs and superhuman strength, speed had never been an issue for them. But now that this thing was scuttling towards them like a spider out of hell, they just could not seem to make their legs move fast enough. Dhar-Mon scooped Malinalli into his arms, her short stature meaning she’d been falling behind, and Kon-Mai began to slow, her tired body still trembling.

“Don’t you dare!” Gur-Rai grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “Keep fucking going!”

The hallway ended in an open door, light pouring through it like the pearly gates of paradise, and they all made a mad dash for it. The Elder  was close on their heels, screaming at them in garbled Etheric. One clawed hand reached out and closed around Kon-Mai’s leg, sending her falling and splaying across the floor, her leg bending in a way it was never meant to bend.

Gur-Rai turned and aimed his gun at the monster and unloaded a shot right into the Elder’s purple eye. While it did next to nothing to actually hurt it, the wound did make it loosen its grip on Kon-Mai long enough for her to crawl away towards her brother, who looped his arm under hers and pulled her along into the sanctuary of the open door.

Dhar-Mon put Malinalli down and slammed the door closed, taking his hammer off his back and sticking it under the handle. Malinalli rushed over to Kon-Mai, who Gur-Rai was helping down into a seated position. 

He took a look at her leg and turned white as a sheet. “Oh.”

“It’s alright.” Kon-Mai tried to assure him. “I am fine, it doesn’t hurt.” She chuckled, perhaps to try and calm her own nerves. “It cannot be that bad.”

“Konnie.” Malinalli dropped beside her. “Don’t look now, but it definitely is that bad.”

Despite the warning, Kon-Mai looked. At first, it looked like she’d been impaled with something sharp, like a pipe. Then she saw that the object was red, and white, and…

It was her bone. She had a compound fracture. But that...didn’t make sense. She’d had broken bones before, much worse than this. And this felt nothing like it.

“It does not hurt.” Kon-Mai insisted. “At all.”

“Well, that’s good at least.” Gur-Rai patted her shoulder.

“Unless you’re in shock.” Malinalli pulled on some Nitrile gloves. “Dhar-Mon, is that door blocked?”

“Yes.” He assured her. “But I hear the...creature stalking the hall on the other side.”

“You know if that thing wanted to, it could break down the door.” Gur-Rai said, sliding down to sit beside his sister. “I can’t believe we found an Elder in the basement…”

“Perhaps it is weak. It may not pose as much of a threat as we believe.” Kon-Mai suggested. “Did you recognize it, Brother?”

“I was a bit too busy running for my life to ask if it was our long lost uncle.” Gur-Rai grimaced.

Dhar-Mon turned from the door. “...It’s aura was not one that I recognized.” He replied to her. “I did not know there were others besides those we knew; those who created us.”

“Weren’t there a few Elders that XCOM killed in the Early War?” Malinalli asked as she began fussing with trying to set the bone back in place. “Maybe that was one of them.”

“It’s very possible.” Dhar-Mon said. “But why is it here? In this place?”

“I have a more pressing question.” Gur-Rai stood up. 

“More pressing than the Elder trying to kill us?” Malinalli raised a brow.

“Absolutely. Where the fuck is Zhang?”

.

.

Zhang hauled Bryni to her feet, and she waved him away. “I’m fine.” She insisted. “I’m fine. Just kinda winded.”

“La baise qui était?” Annette spat, panting as she leaned against the wall. “Was that...it can’t be a…”

“That was an Ethereal.” Zhang growled. “An Ethereal. In the basement, locked away like a demon.”

“Looked kinda scraggly for an Ethereal.” Bryni said. “Ain’t they supposed to be all godly-like?”

“They are mortal, Firebrand, just like us.” Zhang pulled his pistol from his belt and cocked it. “I need to find Malinalli. She is definitely in danger.”

“She’s in danger?!” Annette looked at him like he was insane. “WE are in danger, Chilong!”

“I promised Senuna I’d protect her.” Zhang glared at Annette. “We cannot be split up for long, that thing will go after someone, and if it goes after them…” He couldn’t finish that sentence. “Sunny would never forgive me.”

“She is not yours to worry about, Chilong.” Annette insisted. “We will be lucky if any of us get out of here alive!”

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” Bryni said, one hand on her hip. “I’m with ol’ Chilong here. Molly’s my pal, and bless her heart she couldn’t hit a standing target if it picked up the gun and shot itself.” She pulled her gun off her back. “If it comes at her and she ain’t got the others to carry her off, that demon’ll drag her right on down to Hell.”

Annette rubbed her hands over her face in utter exasperation. “Do you even know where to look?”

“I think I saw her and the Blue Man Group take off down the hall.”

“Then we must follow the hallway.” Zhang looked at Annette. “Will you stay here or come?”

Annette squeezed her eyes shut. “I never should have sent for help.” She drew her own, worn out pistol. “Let's find them, Chilong.”

“Righty-ho!” Bryni flung the door open and screamed.

The girl in the blue skirt, her eyes wild with fury, shoved Bryni inside and pointed her shotgun right in her face. “Walang hiya ka, punyeta!” She spat, Bryni backing away.

“What is she saying?!” Bryni let out a yelp, stumbling and falling and continuing to try and crawl away. The girl took her shot, missed as Bryni rolled off to the side, and Annette pointed her gun at the girl.

“Wait!” Zhang raised his hands. “Don’t shoot!”

“Nakulong siya!” The girl looked up at them, her eyes glowing purple and her black hair floating around her shoulders. “Sino ka?! Bakit ka napunta?!”

“We don’t speak Tagalog!” Annette spat. She pointed at the shotgun in the girl's hands. “Gun! Down!”

The girl instead put up her middle finger and pointed her gun at Annette.

“Bulan.” Zhang’s voice was calm as he stepped between the two women, looking at the girl with the blue skirt right in her glowing eyes. “Mangyaring huwag saktan kami.”

Annette and Bryni looked up at Zhang in disbelief, Annette moreso, but neither of them could match the horror that appeared on the girl’s face as he said her name.

“...Shaojie?” She stammered, her voice weak and cracked.

He nodded, his hands still raised. “Narito ako upang matulungan, Bulan.”

Bulan’s look of disbelief morphed on her face into a look so full of hate it sent chills down Zhang’s spine. “Ang iyong "tulong" ay pinatay sa atin.” She cocked her shotgun and pointed it in Zhang’s face. He took a step backward, closing his eyes as he prepared for his end...and the sound of a pistol going off sent his ear ringing. 

Bulan collapsed to the ground unceremoniously, her body crumpled like a sheet.

Annette shook her pistol, which was smoking. Turning on her, Zhang snapped. “Why did you do that?”

“Why…?” Annette looked at him in disbelief. “Chilong, she had a gun pointed at your face!”

“What’d you call her, Colonel?” Bryni asked as she scrambled to her feet. “What’s that word? Bu-lahn?”

“Bulan…” He stared down at the body of the girl, blood staining her white shirt. “Her name is...was Bulan Kepa.” 

“And how do you know that, Chilong?” Annette asked. “She’s a teenage girl, I doubt you were friends before the war.”

“I know.” He almost whispered. “I don’t know how to explain this.”

“Well, start at the beginnin’.” Bryni continued to pry.

“When I was part of the Triad, our client was a Filipino man who owed us almost 2 million dollars.” He whispered. “They...we kidnapped his children. All of them. I was only 18, and the oldest girl was no more than two years younger.”

Bryni looked down at Bulan’s body. “...Heavens to Betsy…” She looked up at Zhang. “...And that’s her, is it?”

“She knew me.” He muttered. “She recognized me. Said my help was what doomed them to begin with.”

Annette grabbed his hand. “Chilong, now is no time to dwell on this. Did you just say we need to find the child?”

“Yes.” He looked to Annette. “And she’s not a child anymore.”

“Old habits.” She pulled him out of the room, gesturing for Bryni to follow.

As they closed the door, Bulan’s arm twitched violently.

.

.

Malinalli wrapped the gauze tightly around Kon-Mai’s leg. “That’s the best I can do for now.”

“That is fine.” Kon-Mai insisted. “I told you, it does not hurt.”

“It should hurt.” Dhar-Mon insisted, laying glowing hands over his sister’s leg. “Are you dizzy? Cold?”

She shook her head. “My leg is slightly numb. Other than that, it does not feel broken in the slightest.” She looked down at her leg. “How can you tell it’s healing?”

“I...can feel it.” He sighed. “That is a lie, I cannot feel it. In fact at the moment, I cannot feel anything but turmoil and unrest.”

“Probably because of the monster that’s traipsing around outside.” Gur-Rai said, his ear pressed to the door. “I can hear him muttering.”

“Could we speak to it?” Kon-Mai asked. “Perhaps it shall cease it’s attacks.”

“That sounds like a bad idea.” Malinalli said as she looked to Dhar-Mon. “...But we might at least find out what it’s doing here.”

Dhar-Mon looked away from Kon-Mai. “Brother, will you guard the door?”

“Sure thing.” Gur-Rai gave him a thumbs up.

“Malinalli, I ask that you take my hand.” He said. “An Elder’s mind is strong and terrible, and two minds stand a better chance than one alone.”

“Of course.” She took Dhar-Mon’s hands and sat across from him. She felt a click, their minds linking like they had so many times before. This time, the two reached out with their collective consciousness, looking for other signals.

As they settled into their trance, Kon-Mai got to her feet, testing her leg. There was no pain. It was stiff, but she still had most of the feeling in it. It didn’t feel broken.

“Something is quite wrong here.” She said.

“Oh really?” Gur-Rai crossed his arms and leaned his back against the door. “What tipped you off?”

Kon-Mai sighed. “Beyond the Elder in the basement.”

“I feel like that’s a pretty big development, Sister.” He looked behind him, as though he were waiting for something to slam against the door. Thankfully, nothing came.

Kon-Mai began to sift through the papers adorning the tables and desks. The room was too small to be a library, but the array of books gave it the impression it was at least used as a study.

“These photos are quite faded.” She held one up. “The color has washed away. It’s monochrome now.”

“Give it here.” Gur-Rai held his hand out, and Kon-Mai brought the photo into his waiting hand. He only took a glance at it before laughing. “Oh Sister, are you that naive?”

“What?” She growled.

“This is a black and white photograph.” He waggled it toward her. “Humans didn’t always have digital scanning technology, you know. God, you would have died in the film days.”

“I knew that.” Kon-Mai crossed her arms and Gur-Rai could see in her face that she, in fact, did not know that. “Why do you think it is here?”

“Who knows? Could be an old photo.” He examined it in more detail. “Maybe an old family…hm.” He looked closer. “Hey, Kon-Mai, remember the girl who attacked us?”

“I could not forget her if I tried.” She said.

He turned the photo around. “Is it just me, or does that look like her?”

“The quality is such that it doesn’t look like much of anything.” Kon-Mai took the photo back and squinted at it again.

It was indeed a family photo, and a large family at that. An older man and a woman stood on either side of the group, the man wearing a business suit and looking very proper and the woman dressed in what was almost a ball gown, with high padded shoulders and a fan in her hand. Between them, five children of varying ages stood, the youngest being an infant that was held by one of the other children. Smack in the middle, the tallest girl stood, as though she were connecting it all.

Kon-Mai brought it closer. “If it is her, she is younger here.”

“Why’s it in black and white then?” Gur-Rai held up his fingers. “For one thing, if that was taken before the invasion, and I’ll bet you it was, everyone had color photography by 2015. Why would they be using shitty film?”

“Perhaps it is niche?” Kon-Mai reasoned.

“Okay, but also consider.” Gur-Rai held up a second finger. “The invasion happened 25 years ago. That girl was barely older than a teenager.”

“Perhaps she looks young for her age.” Kon-Mai said. “Malinalli is 26 and she looks incredibly young.”

“She’d be at least forty, now.”

“There are forty year olds that look young.”

“Okay, guard the door for me for a second.” He pulled away from his spot, and Kon-Mai leaned against it, watching as her brother began to rifle through the papers on the table.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“Well Sister. I have one last question for you.” He held up the photo again. “This looks like the same family, yes?” He held it up to a Philippine newspaper, folded neatly and covered in dust.

The glossy photo in his hand, while not a direct match, greatly resembled the photo of the family plastered across the front page, under boldly printed letters Kon-Mai couldn’t decipher.

“...It appears so.”

“Okay. So answer this.” He held it up and pointed to the date on the paper. “So why is this newspaper dated back to 1960?”

.

.

Zhang and Bryni poked their heads out into the hall, Bryni holding her breath. Annette guarded them from behind, her eyes darting around wildly. “Mon Dieu.” She whimpered. “I can feel him in my head. I can’t tell if he’s right behind us or on the other side of the property.”

“His psionic field is overpowering.” Zhang agreed.

“Y’all managed to kill these fuckers before, right?!” Bryni hissed. “How’d you do that?”

“We shot at them until they exploded.” Zhang grumbled.

“Ah.”

Zhang gestured for them to move, and the three crept along the hallway.

“Where ya think they ran off to?” Annette asked.

“I don’t know.” Zhang looked around them. “...This was the Father’s wing.”

“He had a wing?” Annette asked.

“He was quite wealthy.” Zhang replied. “We are near the study.”

“Maybe they went-” Annette broke off. “...I hear him.”

“The Ethereal?” Bryni gasped. “What’s he saying.”

Annette grimaced in pain, clutching her head. “I...I don’t know. He’s speaking but I can’t understand!”

“The three speak Etheric!” Bryni said. “I’ll be you they could-”

“It’s not Etheric!” Annette shook her head violently. “It’s all turned around...I hear French, Russian, Etheric and Chinese, it’s like his mind is...it’s a soup, a mosh pit of stimuli.”

“Don’t try to reach out.” Zhang knelt beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “Block him out. You can do it.”

“He’s too strong.”

“No he’s not. You are stronger, Taymallat.” He insisted. “I have seen you kill these things before.”

“That was different.” She looked up, tears in her eyes. “I wasn’t so scared back then.”

“Courage is not the absence of fear.” Zhang said. “Courage is remaining steadfast even when fear consumes you.”

Annette took a deep breath, gripping his arms as she did. “You’re right.”

“I know.” He helped her to her feet, looking around. He, too, could feel the Ethereal’s forceful tug. Anyone with a glimmer of psionic attitude could probably feel it. Cautiously, Zhang reached out.

Annette was right. The Ethereal’s mind was a mess of words and sounds and feelings. If Zhang had been less experienced it would have sent him reeling, and even now he was having trouble keeping himself from slipping into the chaos that was this creature’s mind.

He lingered a moment longer, looking for...something. He wasn’t sure what, but within the mass of images, he saw a group of weathered Ethereals standing in a circle. Most were purple. One had pale white skin and eyes that were more green than blue. One glimmered with gold light.

He pulled free, nearly collapsing beside Annette, his head still swimming from the madness. But now, at least, he could hear his voice, and he heard it clearly.

“Masha. Shamash. Coming. Come. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home.”

.

.

It felt as though something was interfering with their attempts, trying to stop Malinalli and Dhar-Mon from reaching out to connect to whatever it was. Perhaps pushing forward was unwise.

They did it anyway.

Malinalli found herself soaring through the dark and damp hallways, moving as though she was flying. Purple energy surrounded her. Her arm hurt but…

Not her arm. Humans had two arms but when she looked down, she had four, all long and gangly. She squeezed Dhar-Mon’s hands, just to keep herself grounded in reality.

The creature...the Elder...didn’t know she was there. She assumed it couldn’t feel her over the static already coursing through it’s synapses.

“Stay with me, little phantom.” With Dhar-Mon’s words she was pulled away, her perspective changing so she was now outside the Ethereal, looking toward it. She had not seen many Ethereals, only the Elders, and that had been through Dhar-Mon’s own lens. 

But she could tell this one was in bad, bad shape. It’s robes (they looked different from the robes the Elders wore) were ragged, half torn and slightly burnt. There seemed to be holes in it’s grey skin, exposing green bits of rotting tissue and muscle. It could barely fly anymore: instead of gliding gracefully, it’s already bent feet dragged along the wooden ground, scraping off even more skin and leaving droplets of glowing blood..

She looked to the hand Kon-Mai had cut off. The hand that had hurt. Grey flesh, though rotten and crusted, encased an entirely new digit, like an embryo.

“It can heal itself.” She thought.

“Impossible.” She heard Dhar-Mon almost beside her, but it felt more within her. “Their power is great and nearly limitless, but even the Elders cannot regrow limbs.”

But it wasn’t impossible. They saw it, right there. Malinalli reached forward with the hand she wasn’t sure was there but she hoped was. She felt Dhar-Mon pulling back for a moment, before he followed her movement, extending their reach, grasping outward…

The Ethereal reeled back. It had seen them, and now they could hear—they could see—within its mind, or rather it’s mess of a mind. Words, some in Etheric, some complete gibberish, and a few Malinalli understood, came at them like a wave of alphabet soup. Malinalli almost broke under the immense pressure, but she calmed her breath, stood her ground, and held.

The Ethereal saw them now, it’s purple, sunken eyes breaking through them like hot coals. It threw words at them like rocks. “Who? Who? Who dares? Ethereal? Alaukika? Alaukika?”

Ethereal. It thought they, or at least Dhar-Mon, was one of its own kind.

“Yes.” Malinalli said, hoping to pacify it. “Ethereals. That’s us.”

Instead of calming, the Ethereal’s power flared, like she had thrown gasoline on a fire. “Aus Alaukika.” It lifted it’s four arms. “Not Ethereal. Mortal. Mortal.”

She felt Dhar-Mon press in front her her, his more powerful mind blocking the psionic assault that was aimed at her. “Xyuas tousal.”

The Ethereal’s own power seemed to draw back, almost in confusion.

“Identify yourself.” Dhar-Mon said again, and this time she could understand him.

The Ethereal’s mind was a blank slate, but through the maze of confusion and pain, one word emerged.

“Ya’uq.” It said.

She could tell Dhar-Mon did not recognize that name. “How did you come to be here?” He asked.

More silence. Then, a ship, great and black and…like the Temple but different. It felt younger. A menacing fifty Ethereals stood in a circle, most grey with purple eyes save for the two who stood at the front. One shimmered with golden light. The other, green and blue, and as she gazed into the pale white face of that Ethereal, Malinalli felt her chest tighten, as though a painful memory had been dug from her psyche.

“Shamash.” Ya’uq focused his purple light on the one that was glowing gold. “Where is Shamash? They shall come. They shall save me. They promised.”

Dhar-Mon’s fear was palpable as he spoke. “...There is no Shamash.” He said. “I know only Bhandasura, and Camazotz...and Abyzou.”

“Abyzou.” The Ethereal said the name gently. “...Child.”

“Child?”

“Daughter of Shamash. Child of the Sun. Child.” He sounded sad. “Only a child.”

Dhar-Mon growled. “She is no child. She is a monster.”

“Dhar-Mon.” Malinalli said quietly. “Don’t.”

Ya’uq did not seem to respond at first, so Dhar-Mon continued. “Who brought you here? Who are you?”

Another moment of silence before they were bombarded with words: “Hammon. Ilah. Jabal. Lugal. Wadd. Suwa. Tamtu. Shamash…” 

The names began to blend into each other, and Dhar-Mon recognized none of them. Each Ethereal had a face, a name, an identifying feature and yet, he could not say he’d ever seen them before. He knew there had been other Ethereals who had come before, who had died long before his birth in the Early War, but he did not hear the names of Reue or Imdugud, or those he rarely spoke to like Xezbeth or Tiyanak, or even the names of his mother and fathers.

But at the end, there was one name. One name he knew, a name that made Malinalli shriek loud enough to sever the connection.

“Senuna.”

.

.

Gur-Rai caught Malinalli as she stumbled backward, holding her head. “Woah there, I’m no matador and you’re no bull, so quit charging.” He led her to the table and she leaned over it, feeling like she was about to vomit. “Well? What did you find?”

“There were others.” Dhar-Mon said. He was still on the floor, and Kon-Mai had abandoned the door to kneel beside him and help him. “The Ethereal that stalks these halls is called Ya’uq. He came to this place with a cohort of forty-nine others.”

“Fifty in total? Mom always said there were only about twenty Ethereals when they came.” Gur-Rai puzzled.

“He does not know the Elders. Our Elders.” Dhar-Mon shook his head, his eyes still closed as though the light hurt his eyes. “He knew Abyzou, but…”

“It seems like he knew her as a kid…” Malinalli finally choked out. “He called her a child.”

“Well she definitely acts like a child.” Kon-Mai muttered.

“He called her the daughter of Shamash.” Dhar-Mon added. “And then, it named Shamash as one of the Ethereals who led them here. Their eyes were gold.”

Kon-Mai and Gur-Rai looked at each other in confusion. “I don’t remember a gold ethereal.” Gur-Rai said.

“He knows Senuna.” Malinalli finally added, sinking back to the floor.

The silence that followed was uncertain. Kon-Mai spoke up first. “She is the Commander. He would know her if he fought-”

“No.” Malinalli turned to face her. “He knew her because she came here with him.”

“Came here...what?” Gur-Rai looked thoroughly confused.

“He named the Ethereals he came here with. Named every single one.” She clasped her hands. “And he said Senuna. I heard it clear as day.”

A light tapping on the door knocked the three of them from their stupors, and Kon-Mai drew her blade again. “Is it him?”

“I don't care to know.” Gur-Rai said as he pointed his gun at the door.

The tapping came again, rhythmically, almost like knocking. Dhar-Mon stood, and Malinalli stepped towards the door.

“Should we open it?”

“No.” Kon-Mai asserted.

“What if it’s the others?”

“What if it is not?”

The knocking grew into a loud banging. “HEY! Y’ALL ALIVE IN THERE?!”

“It is them!” Dhar-Mon took his hammer away from the door and opened it, moving out of the way as Bryni stumbled in, followed closely by Zhang as he pulled Annette along by the hand.

“Xièxiè tiāntáng, nǐ hái hǎo.” Zhang cried as he saw Malinalli. “...You look troubled, young one. What happened?”

Malinalli and Dhar-Mon looked at each other with unease.

Zhang knelt in front of her, horror in his eyes. “What did you see?”

.

.

The moon would be full that night, as it always was. She drew her power from that moon.

The door to the attic creaked as it opened. Bulan Kepa stumbled inside, her clothes soaked in her own blood. But the wound on her neck was healed, pink skin covering the scar that would fade with the dawn.

She could not worry about herself though. Not right now. She looked around at the four beds, the ones that needed her the most.

The first one she checked on was the baby. Marikit always had trouble sleeping, and that was true tonight: her baby sister stared up at her as she wheezed, her wrinkled skin pulled tight over bones. Bulan lifted her from the crib, trying to bounce her to comfort her, and the infant’s skin blistered under her touch.

Laarni was next to check on: the baby before the baby. She at least was sleeping through the undoubtedly incredible pain. The second eldest of the girls, Diwata, followed Bulan around the room with glazed eyes, her lips pulled taut against yellow teeth. 

Bulan could hear Ali and Isanagi rising into sitting positions. She went to their beds, pushing them back down, crooning at them to “Sleep, sleep, please sleep.”

But her siblings did not sleep. Instead, each one sat up and stared at her with open eyes.

Bulan sat in the center of their beds, facing the attic window that looked out to the glowing flowers in the garden. With her corpse-like sister in her arms and tears brimming in her eyes, Bulan began to sing.

“Ili-ili tulog anay,

Wala diri imong nanay.

Kadto tienda bakal papay.

Ili-ili tulog anay.”

.

.

.

.

.

Summery: The chapter begins with Annette replaying the message she sent to XCOM, and lamenting that she sent it without knowing the full severity of the situation. The house is apparently impossible to escape, as every time she has tried, she has wound up back in the house. With few other options, the group agrees to check the basement, where Annette had found a sealed off room. Using their combined psionics, they are able to get the door open, only to reveal that a near-death Ethereal had been sealed behind the wall, much to the shock of the house’s resident. After being chased through the halls, the group is separated in two, and Kon-Mai suffers a compound fracture in her leg while escaping. Mysteriously, the injury does not hurt her at all. After treating Kon-Mai’s wound, Malinalli and Dhar-Mon attempt to make contact with the Ethereal, to perhaps convince it to let them leave. Zhang, Bryni and Annette, having been separated from the other group, opt to go looking for them before they are confronted by the girl in the blue skirt, whom Zhang knows and is able to speak to. While she is hostile and the confrontation leads to her being shot by Annette, Zhang reveals that in his youth as a Triad member, the girl—Bulan Kepa—was among one of the kidnapping victims. While they resolve to find the others, Malinalli and Dhar-Mon establish contact with the Ethereal, Ya’uq, who reveals that he has never met most of the Ethereals from the Early War, but came here with a coalition of fifty Ethereals, one of whom seems to have been Senuna.

(Like I said in my little announcement, this was supposed to only be two chapters, but I am a terrible procrastinator, and I also feel like I have too much planned for this finale to have crammed it all into one chapter. That being said, this is so fun to finally get out there, and this one off spooky story is giving us some real insight into the lore~)

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[dungeonguild]

'cause i know you're gonna treat me right - davenzi fic [3/4]

heyo... i (@navollidiot) wrote this part from david’s pov, enjoy :)

×××

David can’t take his eyes off the boy sitting across from him.

He’s never exactly been the most adventurous person when it comes to dating, for a whole host of reasons, and logic follows that blind dates had always been pretty much off the table. But Omar had been insistent, and Amira had been so excited that he’d given in after several days of wheedling and coaxing from the two siblings.

And he’s never been more glad to have his reservations blown straight out of the water.

He had been worried that whatever mysterious guy Omar and Amira were setting him up with would be just another bland personality underneath a pretty face, but from the moment he’d locked gazes with those astonishingly blue eyes, half-hidden beneath a shock of blond hair, David had known that Matteo was something else. Entirely unexpected, and utterly intriguing.

They talk about everything and nothing in particular, coffees all but forgotten between them, and David notices that Matteo can never quite sit still, always needing to release his nervous energy somehow. He fidgets with his sleeves, his keys, the flaps of his wallet, talking all the while, even when he slides over the ceramic tin of creamers from the side of the table and begins stacking a little wall in front of himself, house-of-cards style.

It’s really fucking cute. Everything about Matteo is so cute. More than once, David finds himself staring at the way Matteo’s lips curl up at the edges whenever he’s trying to hold back a grin. After he finally manages to draw his first honest-to-God chuckle out of Matteo, David makes it his mission to make Matteo laugh as much as possible before the end of their date.

“I’m just saying,” Matteo waves a hand, “with all the shit that was going down during World War II, no one can be sure that the American military didn’t come into contact with extraterrestrials, because the aliens could have been like, ‘Hey, what the fuck are you doing?’ Everyone blowing shit up and dropping bombs and they might have been up there going, oh no, guess we gotta intervene, those silly humans back at it again. Hence, Roswell.” Matteo spreads his arms as if to rest his case.

“So you’re saying that the aliens are keeping tabs on us?” David is wheezing. He isn’t remotely aware of how they got on this topic, and at this point he doesn’t care.

“I mean, it’s not completely out of the question,” Matteo shrugs. “Sure, we might not be a threat to anyone but ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t entertaining to observe.”

David doesn’t say out loud that Matteo is indeed an excellent candidate for observation. His unruly, gravity-defying hair, his kind, sad eyes, his fingers that seem to always be twitching for something to touch, to grab onto. It’s all David can do to stop himself from reaching out to interlace his own hand with Matteo’s.

“So anyway,” Matteo lets out a giggle that makes David’s stomach do a backflip, “that was a very roundabout way for me to say that the place I’d want to visit most in America is Roswell, New Mexico. What about you?”

David doesn’t need to think about his answer at all. “Detroit.”

“Detroit?”

“Yeah,” David grins. “Best music city ever.”

Matteo nods thoughtfully for a moment. “Techno?”

“Not just techno. Rhythm and blues and soul, man, that’s where it’s at.” David pulls out his headphones and hands one end to Matteo before pulling up his playlist.

They listen to David’s favorite Motown artists for a good forty minutes, heads leaned in towards each other over David’s phone as he tells Matteo about the bigger names like the Supremes and the Temptations, Smokey Robinson and Diana Ross.

“But there was this one lady that most people forgot about, Mable John.” David scrolls through the list to find one of her songs. “Her little brother was Little Willie John. He was really famous, though he died young, but she’s still alive now. Nearly ninety years old, I think.”

He finds the song and hits play, setting down his phone and falling quiet as the piano introduction gives way to the lyrics. Matteo has one of his hands curled beneath his chin so he can prop up his head on one elbow, and his eyes are soft as they meet David’s.

“Little Willie and Mable remind me a lot of me and my sister,” David says quietly, looking away. He doesn’t elaborate why, doesn’t want to ruin the nice moment they have right now by talking about how he sees himself as the firework that would burn out fast but create a spectacle, while his sister is the candle that burns slowly and steadily through the darkest of nights.

But David thinks that maybe, in Matteo’s hands, his flame can stay lit a little longer.

Between them, Mable keeps singing, and David pulls up the lyrics on his screen for Matteo so he can understand what she’s saying.

getting myself back together is gonna be a big problem, i know but when the right man says he wants me you can bet i won't say no

Matteo looks at him again as the song goes through its final chorus, and his eyes are shining. David forgets how to breathe, maybe because Matteo is so close that he’s taken up all the oxygen between the two of them.

‘cause your real good thing is about to end

“It doesn’t have to,” Matteo whispers, as if in response to Mable. “This doesn’t have to end.”

your real good thing is about to come to an end

“I don’t want it to,” David whispers back.

The music fades as Matteo puts his hand on David’s cheek and brings him in for a kiss. It’s so very sweet and ends much too soon, so David doesn’t let him pull away completely. Rests their foreheads together, lines up his breathing with Matteo’s. He doesn’t say anything though, just smiles and curls his fingers into Matteo’s hair.

He’s pretty sure that their good thing has only just started.

to be continued

#druck #druck fic #davenzi #matteo florenzi #david schreibner #leafy #f: blind date #also fun fact the title of this fic is a willie john lyric!