#i’m trying to finish the faceless old woman today

[welcometohighwater]

spending my first day of summer mostly reading i think (because cramps)

#i’m trying to finish the faceless old woman today #i’ve made a symbolic start on the color of magic #because i want so much to read all of the discworld novels this summer #which: unlikely as i am a very slow reader #but it’s something to focus on

[scary-lasagna]

Catching Mr. Widemouth 

* * *

The proxies try their hand at exterminating the infamous rat of the manor, Mr. Widemouth, but not everything goes accoring to plan.

* * *

"Alright, assholes, we got shit to do today." The proxies were lined up along the kitchen wall, with Masky facing them. Breakfast was discarded at 7:00 sharp, and from then on it was straight to business and hard work. Masky flicked open a long piece of parchment out of his pocket and presented it. Everyone recognized the neat, curled, and extended handwriting as Slenders. The paper read:

“𝒢𝑒𝓉 𝓇𝒾𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝓇𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝓎.”

No other pest had been roaming inside the manor walls for so long. Grinny ate the mice, Smile tormented the groundhogs, and even Seedeater is known to chase off anything larger. But no one has even gotten close to capturing that freaky little motherfucker that spies on daily routines through the slits of dusty vents or stepping in the mashed potatoes at dinner after dropping from the chandelier.

"Dude, you know that's fucking impossible." Clock crossed her arms and tiled her body weight, she had a solid point. It was impossible, or so it seemed. "It's on the list." Masky tossed the paper behind him on the breakfast table. "And we all know what happens if we don't finish a list under five bullet points." 

"No money for another axe sharpener.." Toby's head drooped, it was the fifth one that he's broken.

"No more sleeping in." Brian's still tired eyes blinked slowly, despite the 8 hours of sleep he got.

"Higher phone brightness...the audacity of the prick.." Kate growled, furrowing her eyebrows under the shaded mask holes.

"And my jacket will never get fixed." Clock fingered a growing hole in her forearm's cloth.

"All nuisances, but we'll worry about that if we don't get this done by sunset." Masky turned, grabbing a bag from an empty chair and heaving it on the table.  "I managed to convince Ben to make a floor plan of the manor, we can use this for reference when setting up traps."

"Masky, this is just an inaccurate Sims 4 layout."

"..Wasn't he banned from The Sims-"

"Alright! It doesn't have to be accurate! We only need-"

A squeal and clinking of fancy jewels from the chandelier above the proxies broke Masky's sentence in half. Everyone slowly looked up at the small, half-cat, half-rat, half-gremlin-like creature clinging to an arm of the chandelier as the light made shadows dance in the dim-lit room.

"I think I found it." Toby, glancing at Masky, grabbed his hatchet from the dining table. 

"No sudden movements," Masky whispered, fixating his gaze on the small, furry creature, now trying to desperately inch its way back up the chandelier.

First a crash, then a clatter of weapons and papers hitting the floor. Kate has scrambled on top of the dining table, and leaped onto the chandelier.

"Kate?! What the hell are you doing?!" Clock yelled as she backpedaled for a better view.

"Getting this little fucker so I can get the rest of my day off!" Kate twisted around the limbs of the swaying candle fixture, similar to rope ladders during training, knocking a few candles off as she desperately clawed at the air behind the furry creature. Brian, a responsible adult, quickly set the lose candles in the empty candelabras on the table.

Mr Widemouth was panicking, he couldn't jump safely, and the ceiling tile he fell through unnoticed was not suitable for traveling anymore. He shrieked at the sudden grab around his small body, the proxy's hand was a quarter of his body, if she managed to hold on to him as she got down, it would be over for the furry creature.

Slender walked in, holding his novels and supposedly on his way to the sunroom to enjoy an after-breakfast snack and a warm book in the sun's warmth. He stared blankly at the sight, watching in slow motion as Mr. Widemouth beat Kate with multiple candlesticks that were unfortunately too sturdy to break over her stubborn head, before she crashed, hard, onto the dining table. The wood gave in and reverberated a large crack off the walls, splintering in half. 

All of the proxies gasped, and then went silent. In shock, or in fear, Slender didn't know.

"Kate....are you alive?" Brian shifted foward to peek at Kate under the rubble of the table.

A long whine answered him, and everyone let out a breath of relief. "So if Slender asks what happened, we'll just blame it on Jeff, yeah?"  Masky glanced around, and immediately performed a double-take at the faceless man in question standing behind the rest of the proxies, looking very disappointed, and very stressed.

The rodent was still not captured, and now his 100-year-old dining room table has been destroyed by a feral woman in sweatpants.

"At least the chandelier is still intact." Toby offered a ray of optimism in these trying times, looking at the still swaying chandelier that Mr. Widemouth was using to escape. Everyone's heads turned to watch the small being climbing along the gold chain holding the fixture in place, only to flinch at the sudden 'pops' of the chain giving into the manipulation.

The golden, jewel-encrusted chandelier crashed down on the salvageable part of the dining table, splitting it in twain. A few tingles of jewels clattered against the granite flooring, and rested in front of Slender's business-casual shoes. Slender stared at the expensive crystals shattered at his feet, contemplating if he chose the right career path.

"Well, we needed a new one anyway! It was getting old and waxy and-" Toby tried nervously waving it off.

"Toby."

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

Everyone was nervously waiting for Slender's response, and fixated their worried gazes on him, excluding Kate who was sporting a neck injury and couldn't move her head.

"This is a dream. I'm going to go back to bed, and when I wake up this has never happened. Am I clear?" Slender's voice was unusually calm, and Clock thought he might have reached the breaking point and tipped over into the looney bin. "Yes sir," Masky answered when no one had the balls to, and gulped down his sanity as Slender swiveled on his heel to retreat to his chambers.

"How the hell are we gonna fix this?" Brian motioned at the unbelievable mess. Meanwhile, Mr. Widemouth watched comfortably from the shadows of an airduct, peering through the dust-covered metal slits and spied on the muffed conversation.

"Let's just move to Iceland and become sheep farmers," Kate piped up from the rubble.

The fuzzy being giggled, and scampered off to create more chaos among the unfortunate souls of Slender Manor.

#mr widemouth #i love this lil dude #hes adorable #creepypasta #creepypasta imagines #masky #hoodie #toby #kate #clockwork #slender #proxies #short story

[onemilliongoldstars]

a crown seldom enjoyed - epilogue

To maintain the fragile peace between north and south, Clarke of House Tyrell is sent to live in Winterfell as an act of faith between the two kingdoms. There, she is put under the protection of the first queen in the north, Queen Lexa of House Stark, Daughter of Wolves. A woman draped in steel and silver, wolves at her heels and rumoured to be a manifestation of the fury of the old gods; Clarke refuses to be awed be her quiet violence and cold smile. Instead of fostering unity, the meeting of the wolf and the rose lights a spark that spreads through the rest of Westeros, threatening to burn it to the ground.

33/33

clexa game of thrones au

read on ao3

Thank you all so much for reading, it’s meant more than I can say. 

Epilogue

The day dawns cool and bright, sun shining in through the window of the ancient fortress, a familiar sight after all of these years. Summer is just beginning to raise her head again, after a long, hard winter, and Clarke can’t help but be glad for it. She is tired of waking to cold mornings and falling into her bed on cold evenings, heavy under piles of furs to try to stay warm. This particular morning, however, she has something else to keep her warm, and a small smile tilts at the corners of her lips as she burrows back into the body curled up behind her. 

The hand thrown over her waist is as familiar as the sunlight gleaming in through the window, and she knows that when she twists within that grip to find the owner of that hand, she will grumble in her sleep and pull Clarke closer for just a few more moments of rest. The thought makes her heart warm, and she cannot bear to wait a moment longer to see that beautiful face and kiss those perfect lips. 

She turns, but to her surprise she finds two green eyes looking back at her, a few wispy curls escaping from her braid to frame her face. Her smile grows despite herself. 

“You’re awake.” She whispers, and the eyes watching her seem to glow. 

“I have been waiting for you.” Lexa answers, her voice rough with fatigue. 

Clarke traces gentle fingers down the curve of her cheek, over the jaw that she has known for over a decade, the lips that she has loved to kiss for almost as long as she can remember. Her thumb runs over the lines drawn into her skin, from years of politics, and the scar on Lexa’s cheek, from the Ice Wars, and she leans in to press a kiss against the puckered skin, as she does whenever she sees it. 

“It isn’t like you to be so eager to wake.” She murmurs, against Lexa’s cheek and is rewarded by her love pulling her closer, the hand tightening at her waist as she knew it would. She tangles their bare legs together and when they lay their heads upon the pillow to speak, their foreheads touch. 

“How could I stay sleeping today?” Lexa asks, with a soft smile, and leans in to steal a kiss from her lips, pulling away only to murmur. “Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning.” Clarke presses their lips together again, gentle, easy, asking nothing more than to be close to one another. “It seems that the day will be fair,” She says, when they eventually pull apart and she settles into Lexa’s embrace. 

“The weather dare not misbehave for the Rose Queen.” Lexa observes, grinning, and Clarke rolls her eyes, laughing softly. “It will be perfect.” She promises, a little more seriously, and her eyes follow the lines of Clarke’s face closely, watching the way her brows twitch together in thought. Carefully, Lexa draws her fingers over the creases in her forehead, smoothing them out. “No worrying today,” She instructs. “All will be well at home, we have left our kingdoms stable and in good hands.”

“You’re right,” Clarke agrees, quietly, eyes meeting Lexa’s. “Are you sad that Aden won’t be here?”

Lexa considers for a moment, as if she feels it’s important to give Clarke a true answer. “Yes,” She says at last, but then continues. “But he is the only person I trust to care for the north while I am gone.”

“He is a credit to you,” Clarke curls up closer into her embrace, pressing a kiss to the underside of her jaw that makes Lexa’s breath catch. 

“I think,” For the first time Lexa sounds a little hesitant. “I think he may soon be ready to take on more responsibilities. Perhaps even for me to step down, in a few years.”

 “Really?” Clarke’s wide eyes find hers, searching her gaze. She pauses, thinking for a moment, and when she continues there is a note of regret to her voice. “Benam will not come of age for some time. It will be another ten years I suspect.”

Lexa’s fingers notch beneath her chin as easily as an arrow in a bowstring, and she eases Clarke’s face up until they are looking at one another again. “I would wait a hundred years for you, Clarke.”

“You shouldn’t have to-”

Lexa rolls her eyes, good naturedly, and when she scolds her slight smile belies her tone. “How many more times must we have this argument? You have ruined me for anyone else, a woman cannot drink the sweetest wine and then return to sour mead. You are stuck with me for the rest of your life, I’m afraid.”

Clarke finds a smile creeping onto her lips, her heart lightening at Lexa’s words. “Thank you,” She murmurs. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Lexa speaks the words as if they are a treasured pearl, cradling them between her lips. 

“You should go,” Clarke admits, after a moment of easy silence between them. “Octavia will be furious if she finds out you were here.”

“I never thought of Octavia to be one for tradition,” Lexa muses, and Clarke tries not to reach for her as she swings herself out of the bed and begins pulling on her britches and shirt. Her bare body gleams in the sunlight and it seems a crime to Clarke for her to cover it up with clothes, but she comforts herself with the thought that they would be together again soon. “I should go,” Lexa agrees reluctantly, as she fastens the buttons and ties on her jerkin. “I left poor Albert out there guarding the door and he has been there since nightfall.”

Clarke twists, pressing her face into the pillow and hiding her smile at the sound of the former horse boy’s name. It had only taken a few years, and Albert’s devoted loyalty to his queen for Clarke to begin to question the boy’s sudden appearance in King’s Landing. When he had thrown himself in front of an arrow to save his queen during the Ice Wars and Lexa had promoted him to the Queensguard for his actions, she had told herself it was best not to ask. Regardless of whether Albert’s face was his own or not, somehow the Faceless Men are keeping their promise, as Lexa’s heavy body settling onto the bed beside her again proves.

She lifts her face from the pillow and accepts the brief kiss Lexa presses to her lips. 

“I will see you soon, my love.” Lexa murmurs, and runs a hand across her forehead, easing away stray tendrils of hair.

“Not soon enough,” Clarke takes hold of her collar and pulls her down again for another kiss, delighting in the sound of Lexa laughing against her lips. 

---

Harper is the only person she trusts to braid back her hair and slip pink and white roses between the strands. Though her handmaiden now has children of her own who she has left in the care of their loving woodsmith father, she is still pleased to accompany Clarke on trips such as these. She smiles as she slips a golden necklace over Clarke’s neck, the pearlescent dove settling between her collarbones, and watches as Clarke admires her handiwork in the mirror. 

“You’ve made me look ten years younger,” Clarke observes, with a small smile, running a finger over the velvet soft of one of the roses. 

“Love has made you look ten years younger,” Harper tells her, with a soft smile, and helps Clarke to her feet, offering a hand to help her step into her gown. It is made of beautiful white silk and gold thread from Pentos, sewn by the finest seamstresses, and acquired with much secrecy, in case anyone should guess its true nature. A long train trails behind her, made from lace so delicate and light that Clarke barely feels it. 

“Thank you, Harper,” Clarke pauses to grasp her hands when the handmaiden has finished tying her into her gown. “I would be lost without you.”

A pretty pink flush colours Harper’s cheeks and she squeezes her fingers gently. “I am glad to do this again, my lady, for someone you love.” She pauses to fuss with the set of the long sleeves and adds, a slight mothering tone to her voice. “And tell the queen to be careful when she removes this, the lacing is very delicate.”

Clarke blushes darkly at her words, though Harper has had the unfortunate luck to walk in on she and Lexa many times throughout their years of secret meetings. She nods, and when a knock comes to the door her head darts up, eyes widening as inexplicable butterflies whirl in her stomach. 

“They’re ready for us, your majesty.”

Octavia appears around the door and Clarke pulls in a steady breath, smiling as the captain of her Queensguard steps inside, her eyes widening. 

“You look beautiful,” She says, quite honestly, and Clarke smiles. 

“Thank you, Octavia.”

Harper hands her a bouquet of fresh roses, the tiny blossoms that bloomed in the Godswood in Winterfell bubbling between them like foam on a waterfall’s edge. Octavia offers her an arm, as if certain how unsteady she must be feeling, and Clarke is grateful for it. The castle they walk through is old and mostly in ruins, but it has served their purpose for the last ten years and today it is bright and joyful. 

With Harper following behind to adjust her train, Clarke tightens her fingers around Octavia’s arm. “Thank you for being here.”

Octavia’s eyes flicker to her and they are filled with such devotion that Clarke’s heart skips. “You are my queen.” She says, quite seriously. “There is nowhere else I would be.”

Clarke has to blink away her tears, nodding, and Octavia continues, a little more quietly. 

“But don’t think I don’t know what you two were up to last night. It’s bad luck.”

Her grouching brings a startled laugh from Clarke’s lips and she glances at her captain. “I think we’ve had all of the bad luck one could possibly have.”

Octavia rolls her eyes, but says nothing in return as they step out into the sunlit courtyard. It is a small space, and half in ruins from the storms driven in by the nearby sea, but today it is festooned with colourful flags and roses, a duo of players singing in one corner and their few guests seated together upon a bench. Wells is waiting, with Raven beside him, and on their left sits Lord Mormont, his smile big and beaming. 

Beneath a small canopy, covered in roses, stands Lexa, her smile wide and beaming. She looks so beautiful in her fine gown, the softest green that Clarke could imagine, and it brings unexpected tears to her eyes. Her hair is pulled back by only the smallest and lightest of braids, the rest falling in long, unruly curls down her back, and she is the brightest and happiest that Clarke has ever seen her. Around her lie the direwolves, and they perk their heads up at the sight of Clarke. Faith clambers to her feet, trotting up to accept her fervent attentions, and Valour comes to meet her, following at her side until Octavia leads her to stand beside Lexa. 

Anya is at her side, and with both of their white cloaks gleaming in the sunlight Clarke feels almost blinded until they step away. 

“You’re crying,” Lexa takes her free hand, pressing it closely to her heart and Clarke spies tears in her own eyes. 

“So are you.”

“I am allowed to,” A small smile tilts at Lexa’s lips. “I never thought I would love someone as I love you.”

“I love you too,” Clarke’s voice breaks and Lexa squeezes their hands together. 

“I know we are not surrounded by a Godswood tree or a Septon, as either of our religions dictate, but I believe that the gods are everywhere, and they will hear our love here and accept it.”

“As do I,” Clarke smiles, intertwining their fingers. 

“And so,” Lexa continues, pulling in an unsteady breath. “Before the old gods and the new, before our friends and family who witness us, and most importantly, my love, before you, I swear that I love you with all of my heart,” A tear escapes her eye and trails down her cheek, but Lexa does not stop. “I swear you will always have a place in my hall and a seat at my table, I swear to treat your needs as my needs, and your people as my people. I love you with everything I am, and I will always be true to you.”

A trembling breath escapes Clarke’s lungs and for a moment she fears she will not be able to find the right words, but then Lexa’s gaze meets hers and it is like reaching the centre of a storm, because everything becomes very quiet and still inside of her. 

“Before the old gods and the new, I swear that I will never stop loving you, Lexa Stark. You will always have a place in my hall and in my heart. I swear to treat your needs as my needs and your people as my people, and I swear not to go running headlong into danger without at least telling you first.” The words draw a slight, wet laugh from Lexa. “But most important I swear to love you with my mind, heart, and soul for as long as we both shall live, and probably even after that.”

There is no Septon to tell them what to do, no bridal cloaks to exchange, and so Clarke simply winds her arms around Lexa’s waist and draws her in closer, pressing their lips together to seal their vows. Her lips taste just as they have for years, and kissing her feels as easy and as simple as breathing, and Clarke knows now why when Lexa tentatively brought up the idea of marrying in secret she agreed. 

Even if they cannot yet tell the world the truth, even if their lands are not yet ready for a world without them, she cannot imagine spending another day as anyone but Lexa’s wife, and she is sure that the northern queen feels the same.

#clexa #clexa gotau #clarke griffin #commander lexa #clexa fic #a crown seldom enjoyed

[reaganann]

The first time we meet (karlxreader)

y’all may know Karl Jacobs the famous Minecraft streamer and best friends to Sapnap. Well that’s not the case for me i know him as my boyfriend but i never seen him in real life before just discord vc’s.

i’m most know for my minecraft streams too because i’m the first female faceless streamer. There’s a lot of male faceless streamers like dream,corpus,ranboo, there’s a lot more but you never see female faceless streamers but then there’s me.

Me and Karl met on Minecraft Mondays we were on the same time and ending up winning it after that me and him talked every day we became good friends then it turned into feelings so now we are dating.

We have been dating for 5 months and he has never seen my face before i have seen his but he hasn’t seen mine, I guess i’m just a insecure about my self here’s that thing i have what is called Heterochromia iridum which means the colored part of the eye (iris) is multicolored.

So i have two different eye colors I have a dark brown eye but then i have a Crystal blue eye. I always hated my eyes so i never showed my face to anyone.

Karl always wants to see my face but i tell him the same thing over and over aging which is “I don’t feel comfortable showing it” which he completely understand and never pushes me to show him.

So that brings us here we’re i’m laying in my bed listening to a true crime podcast Karl always makes fun of me for listening to podcast he says that there are for old people i just laughing at him and say we’ll i am old.

i’m listening to the podcast when i heard a ding my phone lit up with a message form Karl it read.

hi

i closed out of the message and thought to my self what surprise dose Karl have for me. Putting that thought to the back of my mind i decided to go on Twitter.

i tweeted something laughing at all the comments that my friends comment. when it was 9:00 i finally got out of bed and started my morning routine.

i walked into my bathroom and took a shower and washed my face when i was done i got out, brushed my hair and teeth,

i walked out of my bathroom turning off all the lights and closing the door and walking to my closet to pick out some clothes.

i picked out my clothes and put them on when i was done with everything i went down stairs and made breakfast for myself.

Since i wasn’t streaming to day i don’t have to step up everything,today was my relaxing day but i still had school work to do.

i finished my breakfast, i walked over to my dining room table and sat down i opened my laptop and began my school work, knowing y’all i don’t think y’all want to seat through this part so i’ll see you when school is done.

Karl

Hey guys it’s me frog boy just kidding it’s me karl since some of y’all don’t know me let me say a couple of things about me.

First thing is i have a amazing girlfriend named y/n she is the most important person in my life and i hope to spend the rest of my life with her.

Speaking of my girlfriend we have been dating for 5 months. Wow that’s crazy right you know what’s also crazy i have never seen her face before not like i’m complaining i don’t really care if i see it or not but today that’s going to changes you see i message one of y/n’s friends saying i’m going to surprise her and they gave me her address.

I was driving to the store to pickup some stuff to make a goodie basket for her when my phone dinged 

i looked over and saw that y/n snapchated me i picked up my phone and opened it

I put my phone down so I could continue driving then i got another message on my phone.

I opened it and this time it was a message from her.

putting my phone down for the second time. I finally made it to the store.

I got out of my car and walked in the store. I grabbed a cart and began looking for some stuff to put in the basket.

Ok i got the basket now time to look for stuff to put into it. I know she likes candy so I'm going to get some of that and some monsters.

When I finished shopping I went to check out. I paid for everything and headed out of the store to my car.

Once I got in I put everything in the basket neatly. I took a picture of it.

a/n- i take post anymore pictures so you will have to go to my wattpad and see them there the story is called one shots and my wattpad is ReaganGuillott

I took a picture of it and posted it on instagram and I made sure I posted it on my spam we’re y/n can see it.

laughing at the comments my friends made i started to drive again. It's going to take 3hrs to get there so i’m going to be back.

Y/N

Oh hey there I didn't think y’all would have come back and yes i did finish my school work it took me about 1hr to do so.

i heard a ding i looked down at my phone and i saw

i opend it and saw that it was nick

I snapped him back and he snapped back saying ok fine.

I was starting to get a little hungry so I made a little snack. Can you guess what I'm making? Everyone loves pizza rolls.

When I was done making them I sat down on my couch and began walking some Netflix.

By now it was 1am in the afternoon and I was beginning to get bored.

I can clean my house so that time will pass. but who just cleans there’s house for fun, not me.

I walked towards my room trying to figure out what I can do that will be fun.

Then an idea popped into my head: I can play minecraft. I walked over to my computer and sat down on my chair. I got my headphones and put them on my head.

I pulled in my lights so that it could be colorful.

I logged into my PC and began loading minecraft.

I started up a world and began playing it. I built a house, a farm, and a water fountain in front of my house.

then all of a sudden i hear a knock on my door.

karl

i finally got to y/n’s hometown. I'm so nervous. What if she gets mad at me for seeing her face and she breaks up with me.

putting all of the negative thoughts away in the back of my head I begin to think positively.

I pulled into her driveway and got out of my car and got the basket out and began to walk up to the front door.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door waiting for her to open the door.

I waited a couple of minutes then the door opened and standing in front of me was the most beautiful person ever.

She had pale skin and long black hair that came down past her shoulders and along her cheeks and nose she had these most adorable freckles ever. And then her eyes were the most beautiful eyes, one was dark brown and then the other one was crystal blue.

“Hello my love” I said looking up at her.

“Karl” she said, her voice cracking little, you can see a tear fall from her long lashes on to her cheek.

“Oh honey” I say, putting down the basket and walking over to her and wrapping my arms around her tiny waist.

While I was holding her she began to shake, I felt my shirt getting wet but I didn't care because I had the love of my life in my arms right now.

We just stood there in silence just enjoying each other Company. I finally let go of her and moved away from her.

“Can I get that kiss now?” I said, smiling at her.

“How do you know I was talking about you? I could have been talking about someone else” she said.

“Oh I just know,” I said.

I looked into her eyes, she looked up at me and looked at the ground.

“Could you not look at them please” she said i looked at her confused.

“look at what” i said

“My eyes i don’t like them that’s why i am a faceless streamer and that’s why i didn’t let you see my face it’s all because of my fucking eyes” She said starting to get angry.

“I was bullied as a kid because of them they said i looked like a Alien they called me two eyes just because of my fucking eyes” she said

“baby” i said

“don’t i don’t want you sympathy” she said

“My love look at me” i said

She finally looked up at me i put my hands on her cheeks.

“Honey your eyes are the most beautiful eyes ever don’t let people tell you otherwise so what they say that you look like a alien they are just jealous cause you have some badass eyes and they don’t” i said

She looked up at me and leaned in. I felt her breathing on my lips.

I leaned in and put my lips on hers.

are lips we’re moving together i then licked the bottom of her lip asking for entering she opened her lips and i put my tongue in hers.

are tongues fought for dormancy when we got a little carried away so I parted our lips and rested my forehead on her looking into her beautiful eyes.

“Thanks you” she said

“You're welcome,” I said.

I stepped away from her and picked up the basket and gave it to her.

She took it out of my hands and we walked into her house.

She walked over to the kitchen and put the basket on the counter.

“So what do you want to do now” she said looking at me.

“i don’t know” i said

“do you want to take pictures with me” she said

“sure”

When we were finished we laid on her bed cuddling just talking about life.

" i love you y/n" i siad

l i love you too" she said

And that day became the most amazing day every because i got to spend the next week with the woman i love.

#karl jacobs #mcyt x reader #karl x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

She [5]

Warnings: non-consent sex (series)

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: The reader tries to change her course.

Note: I’m hoping to work on some other fics today and a reminder that I have a new challenge for dark!writers. 

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Reader

The next day you felt more enlivened but no more detached from the mess you’d created. You ducked the hounding press outside your building and ignored the exaggerated speculation about Steve Rogers; about you. Either he was the villain and you were the innocent lamb, or he was the respectable hero targeted by the shrewish report. Either way, they were wrong. You were both just human.

You went to the office and settled into your new desk. Your goal was a sense of normalcy. You just wanted to be the nameless writer again. You needed something other than Steve Rogers. You needed a story of your own.

You opened your browser and went about scrolling through the digital newspapers and headlines of Google. You inhaled the scent of your coffee as you impatiently flicked the mouse wheel.

It wasn’t news to say there was crime in New York you mused at the Times’ small tenth-page blurb. You paused and re-read it; ‘String of Assaults Against Sex Workers Continues.’  It was no Jack the Ripper, sure, but it might be enough. There could be something there.

You needed a pitch by the end of next week if you wanted to keep up. Poppy’s tapping nails sounded in the back of your head and you sent a screen cap of the article to your phone. You clicked onto past issues and traced the story back almost three months. The first report had been almost half a page and featured the image of a particularly sinister streetlight. It was a start.

You continued your search for the hook to catch onto. Anywhere you could start. The red light district would be a start, the attacks seemed to centre around a certain street within it. You filled a folder with reports from various sources; all so distanced and apathetic. Just numbers.

You left in the afternoon. You took your new pile of distraction and headed back to your apartment. When the windows began to darken, you ordered ramen and ate at the coffee table as you sorted through the clutter. The tabletop was covered in clippings and your own notes alongside your open laptop glaring back at you.

You woke on the couch and continued in your narrowed search. You grew more and more anxious as you did. You needed to get your own look at the seedy nightlife but how? You didn’t exactly blend in and you doubted these women were eager to spend their time with some nosy reporter.

Well, you had to at least try. You found yourself watching the clock as you paced around with papers in hand. You stopped to scribble down notes every now and then. Tick, tick, tick.

You were too nervous to eat. You pulled on jeans and a faded plaid shirt. You dug out your old tennis shoes and checked yourself in the mirror. Well, you didn’t look like the stuffy journalist without a clue but you barely looked like you knew what you were doing. You slung the strap of your small purse across your chest and headed out.

It was dark by the time you stepped off the train. You could feel the nerves bouncing around your chest. You kept to the shadows, watching, afraid. 

You watched a woman, not so obvious, approach a car. She wasn’t your typical Law and Order prostitute. Sure, her jeans were tight and her jacket a little short but she looked like any other woman in New York. She got in a dark car and it pulled away. It drove down the street and turned into a lot and your imagination tied it all together.

Several other women went about their transactions. You were shaken as a car honked at you and you waved the man away from the curb, careful to step clear of the glow of the streetlight. The first woman appeared again, her chunky heels echoed on the pavement as she began to her vigil again; a casual strut up and down the pavement.

You continued your observation and added notes in your phone. You edged closer without thinking as the illicit marketplace began to bustle. That same woman, the first you’d spied, surprised you as she stopped you from getting any further. She was tall and slender, her hair carefully bundled atop her head.

“New meat?” She wondered as she leaned against the edge of the storefront. You blanched at her and stepped back. “No, no, definitely not.”

“Uh, sorry,” You said softly. “I was just…” You hid your phone in your sleeve.

“Watching? Getting your thrills?” She chuckled. “Sweet little thing like you.”

You looked down, embarrassed.

“It’s okay. You think we don’t get all sorts.” She crossed her arms. “I can’t charge you for watching but maybe you were looking for more.”

“I’m not-- How much for an hour?” You perked up. 

“Depends what you want.” She said coolly.

“A hundred?” You offered.

“Just out here?” She wondered. 

“No, I…” You glanced around. A shining neon sign caught your eye from down the street. “A drink. I’ll pay. Plus your rate.”

“Lonely.” She mused. “Hiding?”

“Deal?” You ignored her implication.

“A hundred and a drink? I’ve done worse,” She replied.

🖋️

The bar smelled of stale alcohol and piss. The pungent odor drifted from the dingy bathrooms and filled the place. You sat across from the woman at a small round table away from the bar. She ordered Jack Daniels and you had a water. She warned you not to drink it. You didn’t.

“So, honey, what are we thinking?” She leaned on the table.

“I don’t-- I just want to talk.” You said.

“Talk? Mmm, oh you’re one of those.” She purred.

You pulled out your laminated name badge from your purse and slapped it down between you.

“I’m a reporter for Motley Magazine.” You said. “I really just want to talk.”

She sat up straight and her expression turned stringent. She looked around and shook her head. 

“I can’t--”

“Please, just a conversation.” You interrupted. 

“No, I could get in a lot of shit.” She hissed as she grabbed her fringed purse.

“Wait, I’ll pay double. No names, nothing that could give you away,” You stood as she did. “You say ‘stop’, we stop.”

She looked at you and inhaled. She chewed her lip and picked at the wood of the table. She sat slowly.

“One hundred now,” She said. You nodded. 

“If I hit the atm over there, you still gonna be here?” You asked.

“Sure.” She took a gulp of her drink.

You went to the corner, the atm screen was cracked but still operational. You stood as close to it as you could as you slid your card in. You were careful to hide your withdrawal as you crumpled your receipt and neared the table. You sat and subtly offered the folded bills to her.

She counted it and shoved it away. She crossed her legs and leaned into the wall as if to hide herself.

“So…” She began.

You introduced yourself and she reluctantly gave you her name as you assured her it would not be included in whatever came of your conversation. Her name was Rashida but her clients knew her as Ruby. She shifted as the bar door opened and glanced over her shoulder.

“I want to know about these assaults. More than that,” You kept your voice low as she leaned in. “I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” She blinked.

“I’ve been tracking these attacks through the papers. It’s just numbers; faceless women, some men. Relegated to the back sheets.” You explained. 

“For what?” She asked. “To make yourself a name?”

“No, not at all. I want you to be known. All of you. If people can contextualise the faceless, they can empathise, and that means they’ll talk.” You said. “I’m not stupid. The police, they don’t care about you, but they will care about those Upper East Siders who think they’re on some sort of crusade.”

She narrowed her eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know… much. I know Selene got it bad but haven’t seen her much since.”

“I don’t expect you to know everything, I just wanna know what you do know.” You said. “So start with Selene. Were you out that night?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t far from me, we’d talked a little. She was… excited. She had almost saved enough to get her girl into dance. She just needed a few more johns and she’d have it. It was a usual night, guys came and went, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“So when was she attacked?”

“Well, I was on a job and I got back and she was gone. I assumed she’d found her own but I never saw her again that night. I saw the article but didn’t know it was her until a few nights later. Stitches,” She traced from her forehead to her chin. “Works not so good for her now.”

“You know anyone else?” You probed.

“A few girls I see around but me and Selene, we got daughters. We try to take care of each other. Try.” She shook her head. “I… I don’t know.”

“The other girls?”

“Some of them haven’t come back after. Maybe they’re too afraid. Those who have, same thing. Sliced,” She repeated the motion down her face. “So we try to keep track of the weirdos and each other. Some girls are partnering up. One goes, the other waits until they’re back. They got these tracking apps so they can find each other.”

“Mmm,” You typed into your phone as she talked. “So you would say there’s fear?”

“There’s always fear. We see girls one night and they gone the next. It comes with the job but… something about this is so deliberate.” She said. “They’re not just hurting us but our work. Men don’t wanna look at a girl with a fucked-up face.”

“And you? Have you changed the way you work?”

“Well, of course, I’m more aware but that’s always how it is. You take note of everyone, everything. I got a thing for faces, you know? I try to memorize them.” She took another drink. “Even just those walking by. You never know.”

“Mmhmm,” You nodded as she finished the Jack. “Anything suspicious? Well, beyond the usual?”

“That’s the thing, nothing stands out. And it’s hard to tell. Half our customers are strange in one way or the other. Mostly harmless, lonely. It’s the pimps you gotta beware of…”

The hour passed quickly as Rashida spoke and you listened. She spoke more freely as the night wore on and you paid for another round. You were stunned when you looked at the clock.

“Fifteen minutes over,” You reached for your purse. “Extra twenty?”

“Whatever,” She said. “It’s… no names?”

“Promise. No names.” You paid her behind the empty glasses. “Rashida… do you think we could talk again? Maybe during the day? I’d like to get some of this on tape.”

“On tape?” Her eyes flared.

“For my own purposes. It will not be released. I’ll have you sign a waiver.” You said.

She rubbed her forehead and thought.

“I’ll pay.” You offered.

“Do you really think your story can help us?” She asked. “That these fancy New York millionaires will care?”

“I think it’s worth a try.” You stood and stretched a cramp out of your calf. “So?”

“You don’t needa pay me,” She said. “Not during the day. You just tell me where to meet you.”

“Alright,” You flicked through your phone and turned it to her, “Can I have your number?”

“Sure, babe,” She smiled and typed in her number before handing it back. “I’m gonna finish my drink. I’ll see ya ‘round.”

“I’ll be in touch,” You tapped the table as she sat back down. “Be careful, okay?”

She looked at you as she held her glass. She considered you a moment then nodded. “Thanks. I always am.”

You left her and pushed out the door. You were rarely out this late and never in this part of the city. You were suddenly very nervous. Alone. The woman had made you feel safe. She was much braver than you.

As you set off down the sidewalk, you heard your name behind you and the door swung shut. It was Rashida. She caught up to you as you turned back.

“Wait.” She pulled you close to the chipped brick wall. “I got an eye for creeps, I told ya.” She ushered you down past the bar and turned the corner. She stopped you just beyond it and held a finger to her lips and mouthed ‘listen’.

Two, maybe three, minutes and you heard the bar door. The footsteps wandered away and then returned again. She peeked around the building and drew back sharply.

“Carefully,” She squeezed your shoulder. “Look.”

You frowned and inched to the edge. You glanced around at the man in his hoodie. Tall with broad shoulders. He looked up and down the street and walked back and forth once more. He stepped out onto the street and took a slant across to the other side. He was headed for the subway; the same direction as you.

You pulled back and looked at Rashida.

“I seen him when you were hiding in the shadows. He’s better at it.” She said. “Didn’t think much, you know? As I said, the freaks come out after dark but then he came into that bar. He saw you, I could tell, was lookin’ for you. He ordered a beer but didn’t even drink it.”

The hair stood on the back of your neck.

“Following me?” You uttered.

She nodded and reached into her red jacket. She pulled out one of the twenties you’d handed her. 

“Catch a cab.” She said. “And keep your eyes open. He’s good.”

“You think… you think he followed me here?” You wondered as she turned and flagged a yellow taxi.

“All I know is he wasn’t here ‘till you were.” She said. “Too bad I didn’t get a look at his face. He made sure of that.”

You watched the car pull up and you gulped.

“Thanks,” You said numbly. “I--”

“Don’t thank me, babe,” She said. “I was happy enough to keep that two hundred and finish my drink.” She opened the door. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You slid onto the seat and she closed the door. You recited your address as she backed up onto the curb and watched the taxi drive away. You sat back and let out a breath. 

Were you really being followed? If so, how long had they been tailing you?

#Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #series #she #au #dark fic #dark!fic #captain america #mcu #marvel

[popculturebuffet]

Goof Week: Goofy Birthday Shortstacular!

Hyuck all you happy people! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOOFY! The celebration already got on track today with a look at the two part goof troop pilot. You can find that here.  

That review kicked off GOOF WEEK my weeklong look at all things Goofy, but as is tradition on this blog the birthday of one of the big three wouldn’t’t be complete without a look at their theatrical shorts career. And with this one i’ve covered all three of Disney’s biggest stars having covered Donald last june (and will again next month) and Mickey in September so it’s long overdue that my boy gets a shot and even longer overdue I watched some of his classic shorts. 

A large part of why I started doing these is because I love classic theatrical shorts and the reason I love looking at the Disney ones is, unlike Looney Toons or Tom and Jerry, I didn’t grow up with these and Disney never replayed them. At most you’d get one or a small slice of one in a House of Mouse episode. So this is a fun way to dive right into history and see a piece of Disney I’ve only started scratching the surface of. 

This is a fun one too. I ended bumping this up to 12 shorts again, and i’m glad as it allowed me to take a look at some of the weirder stuff and we go all over the place: We have dancing, goofy begging for a smoke, goofy devlopnig a split personality that calls him fat a bunch, a prototypical max who is a LOT, trips to medevil times and cowboy times, a tex avery esque noir short, and the lead in short to National treasure. If any of that sounds like a real good time to you, then keep reading under the cut!

Mickey’s Revue (1933)

Goofy was created by his VA Pinto Colvig, who based the character on the local happy go lucky moron from his home town, and after a dicussion with Walt it was decided to roll him into Mickey’s growing supporting cast. 

My guess from here is they decided to do a dry run to make sure the character worked with audeinces before giving him a full time roll. Given Goofy’s been both a staple of Mickey’s supporting cast and often more popular than the mouse or even the duck, you can see how that went. 

Colvig was awesome. While Bill Farmer is my preferred Goofy, I still tip my hat to the original and it’s clear this was a character he was born t play and it shows: a lot of characters take a short or too to really find their personality. Goofy.. has his early shorts persona straight out of the box> The only weird thing is he’s an ol dman here.. but otherwise his schick here, loudly eating peanuts, laughing a bit too loud and annoying everyone around him with no genuine malice.. that’s Goofy and Pinto really hit onto something and as we’ll see today had a TON of range beyond this. 

As for the rest of the short.. it’s forgetable. It’s not BAD, but it’s just Mickey and friends capering on stage. Nothing really out of the oridnary for these early Mickey Shorts, especially since some of them could get really damn creative.

The Whoopee Party (1933)

Now we have Goofy’s first proper appearance, going from joke character in the crowd to full member of Mickey’s friend group. 

This one is also just okay, but better than the last: Mickey and friends throw a wild party, with Mickey, Goofy and Horace making the sammiches. Goofy dosen’t do much btu gets a good gag or two, and overall it’s alright. Enjoyabl efor it’s lively animation and not much else. 

Goofy and Wilbur (1936) Three years later we get Goofy’s proper debut, a cute short about him using his Cricket friend to fish. That’s not the exestitnal nightmare that it sounds like mind you as Wilbur simply tricks them into Goofy’s net an donly gets eaten when they catch on and Goofy runs to his aid. The short really is more about Wilbur but it’s fair: like with Donald , who was paired with Pluto in his first solo short, they wanted to test the waters before having Goofy carry a cartoon himself. As we’ll see he very well could, but it’s fair to want ot backdor pilot it first and it’s easily one of the best shorts of today’s batch.

How to Play Baseball (1937)

First off while they make a good effort I already know how ot play baseball short...

How To Play Baseball is my faviorite of the Goofy Shorts on Disney Plus, which is a VERY small batch. Especailly since most of Today’s shorts aren’t at all problematic or inapproriate for kids. This one is a gem though. It’s one of the How To Shorts where a narrator goes ove rgoofy trying and failing at an activity though this one’s a tad diffrent. 

 The How To Narrator teaches us about baseball before narrating the world series game. It’s full of cleve slapstick, high speed animation and plain fun. It’s also part of the trend that would dominate Goofy’s sports career of putting him in whatever roll the shorts needed. Here he’s everyone at once, others he’s his old goofy self, other time sh’es just a normal joe. But Colvig does every version amazingly, so it all meshes and that general goofy design is so appealing it just WORKS.  So yeah while i’m not into sports I do genuinely love the How To shorts, as they were my faviorite part of House of Mouse and still are, and the originals are every bit as classic as their reputation says they are. 

A Knight For A Day (1946)

This one is the only other one of these on Disney Plus and it’s decent enough. Nothing incredibble or extra specail: Goofy plays a Squire who has to fil lin for his Knight in a tournament and tries to win a princesses hand against another douchier goofy. Simple stuff iwth some fun gags, but it just dosen’t feel all that fresh, especially since Disney already did a much better shorts with knights with Mickey’s “Ye Olden Days”. It just dosen’t feel as fun or creative as that one was btu on it’s own it’s fine. Nothing great, nothing terrible, just fine. First short of the day to feature Goofy’s faceless blonde love interest who in domestic shorts is his wife and by the same extension Max’s now dead mother. 

Tomorrow We Diet (1951)

We’ve got three from 1951 here. By this point Goofy had traditioned from lovable bumbler to every man, taking on a more generalized personality to fit into every day slice of life scenarios, using those to brilliantly contrast the goofy animated comedy with the more mundane setting it comes from. And sometimes it’s just straight up sticom humor with the ocasoinal joke you could only do in a cartoon.  And sometimes.. you get a version of Goofy who lives in a mirror taunting Goofy over being fat and then trying to keep him on his diet while it’s not clear if thi sis a split personality, a mirror ghost tormenting him that took his form and is doing this so Goofy breaks the mirror and frees him, or his evil doppleganger from another universe. 

Yeah .. one of the centerpieces of this short is Goofy’s reflection/split personality/earth 3 doppleganger/some sort of evil genie taunt shim abotu the fact he’s putting on weight startnig by saying “Hey Fat”... because apparently in this unvierse the best weight joke they can come up with is literally just calling someone fat. I bet I know who rules THIS timeline with an iron fist....

The first half of this short is Goofy being told he’s fat by a bunch of people and the second half is his hallucination/psychotic break/guardian asshole tormenting him with the diet. And I do mean tormenting: He knocks away all of Goofy’s food, then suggests he not even eat his carrot and STARVE himself, which is just deeply unhealthy, and earlier forces Goofy to let him read his book and then tell shim to just diet anyway. Which granted dieting IS sensible.

So yeah this short as you can probably guess by the fact it involves the term “Hey Fat” which was only said by a human being once.. Dick Kinney or Mick Shaffer, the writers of ths short,  when one pitched the line to the other and they laughed for some reason and put it in the script. But with that you can wager this short is REALLY outdated> Overating CAN be a problem and fat shaming still exists, but it’s far less tolerated and far less of a thing.

And hell I can tolerate a good natured weight joke, the Critic had some great ones, especially as a fat guy myself... but this isn’t good natured. The entire joke is, as the man said above HE’S FAT.. So as a legit short. it’s deeply unfunny at best, horribly insulting at worst. But as a so bad it’s good short? it’s GOLD. From the whole mirror goofy thing, to the fact fat is seen as a legit insult here or something to just call fat people because that’s what the writers thoguht humans, even in the 50′s talked like it’s just riffably cruel.. though it will obviously depend onthe viewers tolerance for both fat jokes and how creepy the short can be and again as a short it sucks. As something to be mocked for fun.. it’s fat with potential

Father’s Are People (1951)

Hey Kids you wanna see Max and Goofy reenact Problem Child? 

Given I did Goof Troop earlier this week and i’m finishing this week with A Goofy Movie, it shouldn’t come as a huge shocker that I wanted to cover the first short with Goofy’s son Juinor, who’d later be remolded into Max. 

The short STARTS promising with Goofy having a kid and the hyjinks that comes from having a baby child: Goofy passes out Cigars because Lung Cancer was the preferred way of celebrating having a child in the 50′s, runs himself ragid helping out, which I give the short credit for as “Donald’s Diary” three years later would play a man helping a woman around the house for horror. Here George (Goofy would often go by George Geef in later shorts) pitches in and while he’s clearly exausted he is trying to help with the boy. 

It takes a turn though once we jump ahead to a toddler Junior. Seriously a red head named junior... there’s no way that’s a coincidence. Anyways, the problem is unlike problem child, where Junor dosen’t really go after his dad but the assholes around his pushover dad who genuinely deserve it, this Junior goes after Goofy who at wors tis mildly negelectful but clearly loves his boy> He also DOES try to take a brus hto the kid... but it’s hard to be too mad about that as it was acceptable at the time and he dosen’t actually paddle a three year old. It’s like a less horrfying version of donald puttin ga penguin to a shotguns face in that the targeted party dosen’t see the threat and that goofy isn’t some form of sociopath in this short like Donald was there. It’s just not very funny and only worth watching at all for the historical value. 

No Smoking! (1951) (Patreon Selection by WeirdKev27)

This is my first of two Patreon selections, my patreon is here if you want to chip in a buck to pick a short for Donald’s birthday next month, by longtime friend and backer of the blog Kev. He suggested this one for the sheer absurdity of Goofy smooking.. and was right on the money> This one is DELGITHFUL. 

It works on two levels: it works on the modern level of seeing such an iconic cartoon grapple with trying to quit smoking, first smoknig so constantly a giant cloud appears over him and he has about 80 cigs in his mouth at once, but then trying to quit and being surrounded bycigs before finally DESPERATELY begging for one. As I discovered you really HAVEN’T lived till you’ve heard goofy madly call out “Smoke, smoke gotta have a smoke”. 

But while the novelty IS great.. it’s also just a good cartoon. Outside of some blatant racisim at the start, with a native american sterotype introducing smoking to colmbus which feels so wrong to type I need a shower and really puts a damper on the short which after that.. is just really funny. From the smoking through the ages, to the very creative smoking gags it’s just fun.. and it is CLEARLY anti-smoking, showing both the insane amount of cigrte smoker can go through and how mad the addiction can drive you. It’s not bad... though if you can’t stomach the blatant and terrible racisim.. I get that and it’s fair. 

Two Gun Goofy (1952)

This is one of two “put Goofy in another setting all together” pieces, both in the same year which tells me they were trying to find new stuff to do for Goofy. Thi sisn’t unheard of in cartoons: Around the same time and before Bugs Bunny went all over the world and thorugh time and space, and Mickey went through the looking glass and had two fantasy shorts, so i’ts not unusual

But what IS neat about these next two shorts is they combined the two goofys: he has his goofy demanor and oblivoiusness from the classic shorts, but still has his deeper, slightly less goofy voice from the everyman shorts and is still treated as an average joe, just one now undertaking genre careers, here a cowboy and next a detective

This short is decent. I’m a sucker for cowboy episodes apparently: either old west style showdowns or having the characters go to a dude ranch or something. So naturally I picked this one and was told Max was in it an dhe is... in a two second cameo when Goofy has a thought bubble after meeting faceless lady.

But this is a really enjoyable picture. not Disne’y sbest but good stuff. It also pairs Goofy with pete which really is a perfect pairing, putting our scowling rotund villian against our skinny well meaning hero. And while i’ts a common gag in a lto of things I do love Goofy accidently beating the shit out of pete as the short finds fun ways to do it. All in all worth a watch. 

How to Be a Detective (1952)

This one was a REALLY fun one. Like with westerns i’m a sucker for a good noir parody, even if ironically I haven’t watched much of either genre proper. Add in the fact this is clearly inspiried by Tex Avery’s work and i’m sold on this fun madcap romp with an approraitely more noirsh narrator. 

Goofy is naturally a detective and hired by the faceless woman to find “Al” having to contend with both a goon he keeps failing to recognize and The Chief of Police, played by Pete, who keeps telling him “I told ya to stay off the case Goof!”. It’s just the delivery makes it funny any time he says it as does his instance... and the punchline, which I won’t spoil to both that an dthe overaching mystery i sa gem. This one’s on youtube, seek it out, it’s damn fun. Before I go thoguh I also love how Goofy is Given “Goof Balls”. Yes GOOFY GETS DRUGGED and I am here for it

Father’s Day Out (1953)

I couldn’t find any GIF’s for this one, not even one’s in teh same tag that were unrelated so here, have more smoking Goofy. It will never not be funny.

This one is ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhtastic. Goofy is overworked, wnats to rest on his weeknd, and stuff gets in the way. Oh and halfway through he abrubtly has to take Max to the beach. It’s.. not much honestly. It’s like the simpsons if it wasn’t funny. 

How To Hook Up Your Home Theater (2007) (Emma Fici Patreon Selection)

You may notice the MASSIVE time jump here. That’s because while Disney still does theatrical shorts nowadays, in part because Pixar’s shorts turned out to be a huge hit, they almost never use the classic cast. This delightful anamoly is one of the few exceptions and was picked by Emma out of sheer curosity. And she picked well this short is fun, feelnig like a big budget version of the House of Mouse How To Shorts I loved so an dhaving a modern yet still ultimatley timeless subject: while the tech featured is missin ga streaming box and 4k, otherwise it really has aged incredibly well and getting all the diffrent modes set up and what not is a hassel we al lcan agree with. 

It’s a fun short with lots of good gags and humor as Goofy tries to set up his Home Theater before the big game, and worth a watch. Weirdly not on Disney+ though try explaining that one. 

One final note is for whatever reason this was paired up with National Treasure: Book of Secrets. 

My BEST GUESS i sthat it appeals to the kinds of dads who’d watch National Traesure: Book of Secrets as well as kids since it’s an adventure film. Though it now makes me want to see Nicholas Cage voice goofy. Get on it Disney. Not forever though, Bill’s a treasure. Just for a gag like Don Cheadle vocing Donald.. oh god put them together.. and then have them do a movie together I don’t think they have and do not know why. 

Final Ranking: As a bit of added fun to close this out and as a new feature for these i’m ranking today’s shorts from best to worst How To Be A Detective How To Play Baseball No Smoking Goofy and WIlbur How To Hook Up Your Home Theater Two Gun Goofy The Whoopee Party Mickey’s Revue Tommorow We Diet A Knight for A Day Father’s Are People Father’s Weekend

For the record despite not being a GOOD short Tommorow we diet is at least intresting, hence i’ts ranknig while Father’s weekend is just a boring 50′s version of problem child. Fathers are People at least has some good gags to set it off. 

So thank you for reading and if you liked this review give it a like and consider joining my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. As a patron you’d get access to exclusive reviews, the patreon’s discord and to pick a short each time I do one of these shortstaculars. Donald’s comnig next month and the deadline is in only a few days to join up for said month so the clock is ticking. Even a dollar a month helps me reach my stretch goals so please i fyou can sign up today and if not, I understand and i’ll see you at the next rainbow

#goofy #disney #goofy's birthday #goofy goof #max goof #mrs goof #pete #peg leg pete #peg legged pete #pete pete #pinto colvig #disney shorts #disney plus #disney+

[astromechs]

this is the start of an idea i had... i keep telling people it was six months ago, but i actually think it was a year ago that i first thought of this, and i kept sitting on it too scared to write it because i didn’t think i’d do it justice. that being said, i’m actually kind of proud of this excerpt, and since i’m feeling soft about one of my oldest and most beloved fandoms today:

i bring you what is — basically my matrix 4 spec fic.

(i do eventually plan on posting this to ao3 as a complete piece when i finish the other parts that i have in mind, because i have plans for this... oh, i have plans.....)

01.

Every single morning, Thomas A. Anderson is jolted awake at approximately 8:15 AM by the shrill of the same alarm, shovels in the same shitty cereal before stumbling into one of the same five shitty suits that he has to remember to get dry-cleaned, takes the same seat on the subway on the way to work — where he sits in the same chair for eight hours straight with minimal breaks, staring at his computer screen (or, more often, out into nothing) until it’s time to take the same subway back to his shitty apartment, order from the same rotation of shitty takeout, and find some mindless, banal distraction while he ignores texts that don’t even matter anyway before he falls asleep to eventually wake up and do it all over again.

It’s nothing special — just the average life of an average mid-grade programmer at the average tech conglomerate. Comfortable, sure, and a dream many would kill to achieve; he knows this, knows this every time he passes the poor old woman who’s feeding pigeons in her ratty coat from the battered metal bench on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building. He slips her whatever spare change he has on him — a $20 bill, on the days he’s lucky, but often less than that — and, without fail, she always accepts, with a warm smile and kind eyes that seem to stare right into his soul, seeing the deepest parts of it.

Like she knows him. And that’s what’s weird.

He tries not to put too much thought into it, because, honestly, he tries not to put too much thought into anything at all; he’s found that to be the most effective way to navigate the machine that systematically runs his rhythmic, mundane life. 

But even so, there are things that he knows he can’t shake.

One afternoon in late February, when the cut of the wind had not remotely suggested that spring would just be a month away, he’d passed the woman on the bench as always, but he could’ve sworn that the whole flock of pigeons scattered on the sidewalk at her feet had frozen for a split second. Like they’d been… glitching. In a blink, everything had returned to normal, and he’d spent about three days (and three sleepless nights) trying to convince himself he’d been seeing things, that he’d just been spending too much time actually working on his assigned program for once and that maybe he should take some of his accumulated vacation days? And the following week, he had, but….

No time off to try to clear his head would ever change the fact that this hadn’t been an isolated incident.

Because sometimes — he swears he sees pieces of code fall through his field of vision; a blink and then they’re gone, but it happens too often not to be a pattern, and no matter how much he might want to for the sake of his own sanity, he can’t just brush that aside. Sometimes, flashes come to his mind like barely-remembered dreams, in idle moments and just on the edge of the line that separates sleep from waking consciousness, so real that he knows they’re memories. 

Dark tunnels that haven’t seen the sun for centuries. Cold, so cold that no amount of warmth, human or otherwise, can really combat. Running, desperately bounding up the fire escape to the third floor of a rundown motel, three men in sunglasses and perfectly-tailored suits in close pursuit, his heart pounding in his ears so loudly he can barely hear the phone ring from Room 303, the place he has to get to, because everything depends on it. A barrage of bullets in his chest, one right after the other, back slumping against the wall as his heart gives out, vision fading to grey and then to black, but a voice, reaching through it all to call him, tether him….

Neo.

There are things that he knows he can’t shake, and sometimes, he thinks he had another life. Another name.

Another purpose.

He’s haunted by the ghost of it.

It’s the second of April — at least, that’s what the screen of his phone tells him, because otherwise he wouldn’t know, or care to know. A Friday, and all the faceless commuters are packed like sardines into this subway car, headed home for weekends that are sure to be as inconsequential as his own. Today, he has to stand holding the rail for the ride home; a woman trying to juggle both a baby and two bags of groceries had just barely managed to stumble onto the train before the doors had closed, and he’d sprung up, more than glad to give up his seat to someone in greater need.

She tries to thank him, profusely and repeatedly, but with where he’s standing, he would have to twist to keep facing her, so, with a nod and the barest hint of a smile, he turns away to spend the trip the way he always does: in solitude.

The route back to the station just down the block from his apartment building is never smooth, by any stretch of the imagination, but today, it’s bumpier than usual; the train car jerks and jostles, until, eventually, it sends him colliding into back of the passenger standing next to him.

He’s just about to stammer out some automatic, awkward apology, but then —

Blue eyes meet his, clear, crisp blue, and a jolt strikes him right to the core.

He thinks — no, he knows, he knows — he’s seen these eyes.

Neo. In the darkest corners of his mind, the voice whispers again.

Time freezes, glitches, around him, around him and this stranger with familiar blue eyes. He sees the light leave them, and then come right back. He sees warmth, what something is telling him had once been the only thing able to keep the cold of the real away; that warmth spreads through now, to the tips of him, and he has a sense, one he doesn’t entirely understand, that something has just clicked into place.

Behind sunglasses, another pair of eyes watches them from across the car.

“You all right?” Neo.

He sees brows knit in concern, and for the first time, he pays attention to the face that the eyes belong to. Probably the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in… more than one life, he’d have to guess, is now in front of him; he isn’t so detached and disconnected that he doesn’t notice that. Her short dark hair is cut into a severe bob, and she’s dressed in black from head to toe — from her coat and gloves, to her boots. It suits her, somehow.

After a beat, he finally remembers to speak. “Yeah. I — sorry.” The subway jerks to a halt; he glances up, and adds quickly, after clearing his throat, “This is… my stop. Excuse me. Sorry.”

Pushing past her, pushing past everyone in his way, he disembarks to the station, and when his feet touch solid pavement, he takes off at a sprint. Up the stairs (third floor… Room 303….), down the sidewalk (agents, just behind… he can beat them, if he just runs faster than he ever has…), not stopping until the mundane certainty of his shitty apartment building is within his sights.

Just before he makes it safely inside, he catches a glimpse of the old woman on the bench watching him, her smile wider than he’s ever seen it. Maybe, even, almost inhumanly wide.

#* fic #the matrix #neo #neo x trinity #(tagging this with the pairing is probably not a spoiler for the fic lmfao) #(if you're like... following me here you know where i'm going with this) #watch me wake up and delete this tomorrow out of self-consciousness #this is the first thing i've written for this fandom in #at least ten years #probably more #AAAHHHH SHRIEKS #(also i promise i'm getting back to writing prompts!!) #(i just took a little detour....)

[yodawgiherd]

You Were Never Truly Gone ch.9

>>>Read on AO3<<<

This chapter was... difficult to write after the full ending, and I will put deeper reasoning in the end note. Anyway, I hope that you will like it, it's basically plot only ^^

“I’m not going to marry the Shogun because I will be one.”

Those words were supposed to mean something, but they just hopped around inside Kiyomi’s mind before flying out, leaving nothing behind. They just didn’t make sense, put together like this.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I will be Shogun.”

“No, you will marry the Shogun you…”

“No, I will be the Shogun.”

There was no spark in Mikasa’s eyes as she spoke, no hidden smile, but it was so absurd that Kiyomi burst out laughing anyway.

“That has to be the worst joke I have ever heard, lady Mikasa. Now…”, she tried standing up, the chair scraping the floor, “let us go before…”

“Sit.”, this time it was from Eren, and she found herself seated before Kiyomi even realized why, “Mikasa is not finished.”

“She is, obviously, she is simply making fun of me.”

Slowly and surely, the raven shook her head.

“I am not.”

“You are joking, you have to be,”, Kiyomi rambled, “all you ever wanted was a quiet and peaceful life, right? I can… I can give it to you, I can give you that solitude you want…”

She half-raised her hand, almost reaching over the table.

“You never asked to be special, you never wanted that burden on your shoulders. I understand and I will help – all you must do is follow the plan and you can have everything you ever asked for. Please, stop this nonsense.”

Mikasa’s eyes didn’t budge, meeting Kiyomi’s pleading ones without flinching. Her hand holding onto Eren’s tightened a bit, but other than that she remained still, as her lips formed the word the old woman feared.

“No.”

“B-But…”

“Listen, I know that you mean well for me, that all you want is for your country to be stable in this ruined world. You are right in almost everything you said, but realize that as the world changed during the war, so did I.”

Mikasa’s voice was not very loud but it carried a commanding tone, one filled with the inner strength Kiyomi admired.

“Do I want a quiet and peaceful life with those I love? Yes. But that is no longer an option.”

“It is if you…”

“Let me finish.”, again, even when interrupting her Mikasa didn’t raise her voice, “Please.”

Seeing that the old woman backed down, the raven continued.

“I have lived my whole childhood behind walls, believing that we are the only human society left. Then, as a teenager, I fought the titans who I believed to be the true enemy of humanity. As an adult, I was told that it was all wrong.”

Behind her, Eren shifted a bit but didn’t say anything, leaving Mikasa in charge.

“You can’t blame me that all I wanted was a safe and stable home, a place at peace. But the world is hellbent on preventing me from having it, in a different way than before but still a valid one. Even if I and Eren hid, even if we ran from it all, the best possible scenario is a delay in the destruction – with the course Paradis is on, it will end up destroyed. I don’t care if it’s a hundred years from now, I don’t care if it's two hundred, I don’t care if it’s a thousand years. In my life, in our life, I want to make it a place that is open and peaceful with the world, not an island marked for destruction. Because if we can’t make it safe for our children and grandchildren, then what did we fight for in the first place?”

Her fingers squeezed Eren’s between them.

“You are right that I would still prefer to have a quiet life somewhere, but I am prepared to sacrifice that solitude in order to have that dream. After all, I realized that home is not a place for me anymore.”, she tilted her head a bit to the side, a tiny smile mirroring that one on Eren’s lips, “It is something I can take with me, anywhere in the world.”

For whatever reason, Kiyomi had a feeling that Mikasa wasn’t talking about the goat.

“Look, that is a nice speech and all, but why would they ever accept you as a Shogun? It makes no sense.”

“Hizuru fell to ruin while it relied on itself – granted, it was mostly caused by the rumbling but your council did little to unite the country. I will bring an outsider perspective, a new and open book that represents Hizuru in its post-war world. Still, without anyone supporting me I would say that you are correct and I have no chance, but I will have a very strong ally on my side.”, once again, the grey gaze speared the old woman in place, “You.”

“No, you are crazy.”, Kiyomi was shaking her head, “I will not support you in this insanity.”

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“I... I don’t have a choice? Me?”, fed up with this, Kiyomi’s fist slammed the table, “You don’t realize that we are in my country now, and I control what happens with you. The Faceless outside? They are sworn to the Shogun but you are not one yet – if I order them to take you they will do so without a second of hesitation.”

She leaned over the table, fuming.

“I can have you locked up in a second, both of you. Sure, your will might be strong but I can take my sweet time breaking you and…”

“You could when I came here,”, Mikasa interrupted her, “But not anymore.”

“… What are you talking about?”

“The parade. All the people who saw me, both here and the harbor, happy and alive and going of my own free will. What do you think they will do if the hero you brought from beyond the sea, the Shogun’s descendant and the last link to his bloodline, will disappear?”

So this was why Mikasa wanted one… this was why she, being usually a very reserved person, insisted on being paraded through the city. This was why….

“You never told the public about your plans, did you?”, the raven went on, “The ruling council knows, but not the ordinary folk – you were preparing this bid for new Shogun and his foreign wife in secret. So, simply exchange it for my scenario – young and motivated ruler, coming from a horrible was she was a hero of. Scarred by her past but ready to be the one we need in these trying times.”

Mikasa was right too, Kiyomi realized to her horror, the situation in Hizuru was on the knife’s edge already, and if the one bargaining chip she brought suddenly went missing that would be enough to boil it over the point of no return. The peasants would storm the very gates of the palace, just to save the blood of the revered Shogun.

“They won’t accept it…”, Kiyomi muttered in her slump, “They will never let you be their ruler.”

“Maybe, but do you realize all the power you could keep? I don’t understand ruling, I am a simple soldier, I would need the council’s help. I would need your help too, Kiyomi.”

Mikasa saw it, saw the tiny flash of greed in the old woman’s eyes, and that’s when she knew that she got her hooked.

“My help?”

“But of course, all the pains and responsibilities… I would very much appreciate it if you were there to help me carry them.”

Power, so much power that could be squeezed out of this situation. A young, inexperienced woman thrust into a role she didn’t understand. She, an old and skilled schemer. Together, they could be unstoppable.

Was it such a risk to Kiyomi herself? If the council went fully against Mikasa she would bow out to save her face – sure, she would lose some credibility and reputation, but it wouldn’t be too bad. If she went carefully about this, she could express her support of Mikasa’s claim without sticking her neck out for her.

So, then…

“I am willing to give it a try.”, she let out slowly, weighing every single word, “However, if everyone turns on you I will not go down with your plan. You have to understand that the chance of the council going with your proposal is minuscule at best, and if they decide that you will marry instead then I won’t be able to stop them.”

A tiny light of hope flashed in Mikasa’s chest.

“That’s all I ask for,”, the replied curtly, “I believe that I can convince them.”

“Remains to be seen.”, standing up for like the third time today, Kiyomi stretched her back with a pop, “Shall we go then?”

“One more thing.”, jerking her thumb towards Eren, Mikasa gave her an apologetic smile, “Do you have a spare Faceless uniform around?”

“……..”

“Well?”

“You want to bring him to the meeting?”

“The Faceless never remove their masks, you said it yourself.”

“Sure, but…”

“I know that you dislike Eren, but he and I are a package deal, I thought that I made that clear.”

“How do you think that the rest of the Faceless guard will react if you just jam your lover between them?”

“I figured that they won’t question it if the order comes from someone as high ranked as you.”, Mikasa had the audacity to blink at her, “Was I wrong?”

Where did this woman come from? Last Kiyomi remembered Mikasa Ackerman was a quiet and timid woman so shocked by her revelation that she couldn’t even speak correctly. This sudden change…

No, it wasn’t sudden at all. Kiyomi remembered this Mikasa too, she showed during the battles and fights, when the goal wasn’t to speak but to fly around and knock skulls together. This goddess in a human form found a way to project her sureness from the battlefield to her everyday life and looking at the man behind her Kiyomi could guess why.

It took her years and an apocalypse nipping at her heels, but Mikasa was a way more adult version of herself now. In a way it made Kiyomi happy because seeing her reach the full potential was amazing, on the other hand it complicated her own schemes. This Mikasa wouldn’t let herself be led around.

“No, I think that I can arrange it.”, pushing herself away from the table, Kiyomi made her way out of the room but not before shooting a last look at the pair.

Impressive.

It was also smart because no one would question a Faceless accompanying the future shogun’s wife -if anything they would congratulate her on integrating into their society so quickly.

The Faceless guard was trained in a lot of ways – fighting, protecting, dying for their master, and most of all not questioning orders. Normally they only took those from a Shogun, but because there was none Kiyomi, as a member of the ruling council, effectively commanded them. Finding a uniform for Eren “Aaron” wasn’t difficult, and soon Kiyomi was waiting outside of the room while Mikasa helped him change.

“There,”, she pulled the last strap tight, “That should be good.”

“Hmm, I hope that it will be enough.”, Eren’s fingers brushed over the mask, “Me getting recognized…”

“… is not going to happen.”, Mikasa finished for him, “Now stop worrying and give me a good luck kiss so we can go, I’m sure that Kiyomi is tearing her hair out by now.”

It was supposed to be just a peck but she wasn’t satisfied with that. Her hands circled Eren’s shoulders while one found its way to the thick of his hair, pushing his face down to meet her height. And then it was teeth, tongue, and everything until she pulled back, a blush dusting her cheeks now.

“There, now I think that I’m ready.”

Grinning, Eren fastened the mask in place, making sure that all his features were hidden from view.

“Shall we?”

Kiyomi’s scowl grew from anxious to disgusted when she saw Mikasa’s red face, very quickly connecting the dots and realizing what took them so long. For once she didn’t comment on it, only motioning for them to follow and taking the lead.

The chambers they were looking for were in the palace, but with the sheer magnitude of the building it was quite a journey. One that got interrupted, by a man that walked up to them with wide eyes and a surprised expression all over his youthful face.

“Mikasa? Lady Ackerman? Is that you?”

“Do I know you?”

“Not yet, but I hope that we will get to know each other soon.”, a cocksure laugh, “Lady Azumabito, would you do the honors?”

There was a badly concealed pained expression on Kiyomi’s face as she gestured towards the man.

“This is Daigo Sawamura, heir to the Sawamura clan and one of the most influential men in Hizuru.”, a short nod towards Mikasa, “Your future husband.”

He was…. young, about Mikasa’s age, with a pleasant face and trained manners. Someone who was born to wealth and raised in it, would probably die in it too. This man never had to fight for his life, never had to starve or scavenge on the streets for the smallest scraps of food. He might be nice, as Kiyomi claimed back on the ship, but almost instantly from meeting him Mikasa could say that life with him would be unbearable to her. Their worlds were miles and miles apart, and she had a feeling that no amount of time spent together would bridge that gap.

Now then, there was no need to be rude.

“O-Oh.”, Mikasa’s eyes ticked from left to right, “I.. Uhm.. nice to meet you?”

Behind her, Eren let out a long breath from behind the Faceless mask. Jealousy was not a new emotion for him, and having it from someone who was introduced as the “future husband” of his lover was understandable. Then again, he couldn’t act on it, since he was… well…

Dead. Or at least supposed to be.

Unphased by her embarrassment and ignorant of Eren’s internal struggle, Daigo took a step forward.

“I’ll admit, I was doubtful when lady Azumabito described your beauty to me, especially considering that you were a soldier your whole life, but now I see how wrong and stupid I was. She didn’t overplay your beauty, she didn’t give it justice instead”, with a practiced and elegant movement, he kissed Mikasa’s hand before straightening with a tight and easy smile on his lips, “Consider me smitten by your uttermost perfection.”

In a way Kiyomi enjoyed the way Eren’s hand tightened, shaking dangerously close to where his sword was. But having Daigo cut down by a “Faceless” would do nothing but throw whatever plans she or Mikasa had out of the window. So, Kiyomi did the smart thing and stepped in.

“I am very sorry, but we are expected by the council.”

“Of course, don’t let me keep you.”, he winked at them, “I was told to meet you there, but I simply couldn’t wait to see you for myself. I heard so much about you, lady Mikasa, all about the barbaric society that you were raised in, all about the heroic deeds you’ve done in the war - I must say that I admire you, you are a hero.”

“T-Thank you.”

“And seeing you now, I do hope that you won’t be offended when I say that our children will be perfect, beautiful, and will indeed save Hizuru. Me and you, our dynasty will lead this country to a glorious future, and it will start by our marriage that I’m already looking forward to.”, he leaned even closer, whispering but they all heard the words anyway, ”Especially the wedding night, my dear fiancé.”

God damn it Daigo.

“That is very kind, but we have to go now.”, pushing herself physically between the smitten noble and Mikasa who was one bad touch from showing him what personal space meant, Kiyomi forcefully separated them, “Excuse us.”

Pulling the girl behind herself and hearing the footsteps of Eren, who luckily didn’t stay behind to gut Daigo, Kiyomi retreated to a safe distance before letting go of Mikasa’s hand. She turned to the girl, fists on her hips.

“How close were you to punching him?”, she asked.

“Very.”

A chuckle from Eren, followed by a muffled “Nice.”

No matter how old he got, Eren Yeager would apparently remain a suicidal blockhead. Attacking a noble in the palace was nothing but trouble.

“I can assure you that decking him would have done a disservice to whatever you are planning.”, Kiyomi deadpanned.

“Then I’m glad you were there with me.”, Mikasa latched on, “See? You are already guiding me, it will only get better once you can instruct me when I’m Shogun.”

Stroking her ego, huh? Well played.

“We should get going, the council is not known for its patience.”

Crossing one corridor and the next, Kiyomi slowly but surely led them towards the ruling chambers. Each and everyone was holding their breath – Kiyomi in her nervousness, Mikasa while she was reciting what to say in her mind, and Eren because his eyes kept going left and right and searching for a possible escape route if the plan went haywire.

With last few steps they were at their destination, a large door guarded by two men in ceremonial armor. Upon seeing Kiyomi they both saluted and were ready to open the entrance on her command.

“You ready?”, the old woman asked Mikasa, getting a shaky nod in return.

Eren wanted to hug her back then, stroke her hair and tell her that everything will be fine, but such an act would break whatever illusion he was hiding behind. Steeling himself against the mushy feelings in his chest, he remained still with back straight, the perfect image of a well-trained guardsman.

After a few more deep breaths Mikasa’s next nod became firm again, and Kiyomi deemed her ready to face the council. With a mumbled order to the men, the door creaked open and the trio stepped in, ready to lay their cards on the table.

#eremika #snk #fanfic

[carrisarune]

In Your Eyes

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Note: At this point, please expect at least a few errors as I basically dish these out as soon as I’m done even with a quick review. Editing of previous chaps may occur at one point though so there is that. I have to say a great thanks again to Bree and Preet for all their support and encouragement, you guys are amazing

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst @schnitzelbutterfingers @aestheticartsx

CHAPTER FOUR: NEW PEOPLE AND A NEW HOME

The next morning arrived and after a restless sleep between the not so comfy bed and trying to calm his raging thoughts, Rai was ready to face the new day. As he made his way to the staff entrance, he happened to catch Bryce playing basketball with some other surgeons. At one point, the ball rolled to Rai’s feet. “Well, come one then Hayashi. You gonna play, or you gonna send that back over?” Bryce called, clearly challenging the other.

Picking up the ball, Rai stuck out his tongue in concentration before shooting the ball. Somehow, rather than entering the hoop, the ball hit the support board, hit the ground, then bounced towards a bewildered Bryce, who caught it. A beat of silence came before Bryce, along with the other surgeons burst into laughter.

Bryce leaned against Rai as he exclaimed, “Man you’re a riot Rai” while the male sighed. “Me and ball sports never did have the best relationship” Rai mused. Patting him in consolation Bryce stated, “Hey, not everyone can be good at everything like me” before laughing as Rai bumped his hip in retaliation. After giving Rai’s hair a quick ruffle, Bryce went back to his game. A quick fix of his hair and walk later, Rai was in the changing room and getting ready for work.

He had just placed on his shirt when Sienna came in and announced her arrival with cookies. Upon hearing that, Rai perked and went over to request for some. As he stuffed some cookies like a squirrel, he missed Jackie question how Sienna was so chipper in the morning. He only looked up when he heard Sienna describe the apartment she found and Jackie being skeptical about it. Swallowing the cookies and wiping his mouth from any crumbs, he chimed in, “Well, we can always go together and make a run for it if it’s like some old killer’s den.”

Both girls laughed at that before Sienna informed them that there might be a chance they would need to sign today. Folding his arms, Rai gave a hum, “Looks like we’re gonna have to play gymnastics with our shift today then” causing the girls to laugh once more. The trio then headed to the atrium and met with Elijah and Landry. They discussed their thoughts on what the senior residents might be like when Landry pointed them out. Turning, Rai recognized one of them as Dr. DeLarosa and the other was a broad man with tanned skin, a neatly trimmed beard, and a stern looking face.

Rai quickly learned that the two were pretty much night and day in terms of demeanor as he joined the group and soon learned the stern looking man was Dr. Zaid Mirani. The moment they announced they would be distributing cases, Rai slid over to Dr. Ines’ side, deciding it was better to go to someone familiar. “Hi, Dr. Hayashi! Remember me?” she greeted and Rai grinned, telling her it was alright to call him by his given name. Frankly, the orientation she gave as she handed him his cases was best described as bubbly sunshine.

Once he had his cases in hand, he happened to hear Jackie finish her talk with Dr. Zaid. He blinked and thought, “(And I thought Uncle Greg was strict)” before meeting with Jackie. Apparently, Dr. Zaid was best described as an ass, and when Rai had told her what Dr. Ines was like, she gave a shudder before stating she preferred working with the ass to Rai’s amusement. Later on after they were set off to their cases, Rai found himself paged to meet Dr. Ines along with his group of interns.

It seems that they would be starting their rounds now and Dr. Ramsey would be joining them. At that announcement, it looked as if Landry would burst and collapse from excitement at the same time. Suddenly, Dr. Ramsey wryly stated, “Let’s see who the interns are going to kill today” and Rai froze. “That’s uncalled for” he muttered, his eyes icy and fists clenched. Somehow, Dr. Ramsey seemed to have heard him, “Something to say, Dr. Hayashi?” he asked, clearly daring the intern to speak up.

Ignoring the awed whispers from the other interns over Dr. Ramsey knowing his name, Rai squared his shoulders. A crackle seemed to spark between the two as their eyes met, “Yes, actually” he started, “It’s only the second day. There is no need to make, frankly, crass statements to test our confidence” tone cold, he stood firm, not backing down from Dr. Ramsey’s gaze. Dr. Ines anxiously looked between the two and tried to defuse the tension and move things along. Then, Dr. Ramsey asked, “Has your confidence been tested then?”

“No, doctor” Rai firmly stated and the crackling tension seemed to settle into a quiet rumble. Dr. Ramsey nodded, “Good. Because if I scare you, then you aren’t remotely prepared for what you’ll face on a daily basis here” then a glint entered his eye, “Actually, why don’t we start rounds with your patient?” he rhetorically asks. Rai had no chance to answer before the group was led to a patient’s room. The man sat up as they entered, “Uh, are my eyes going, or are they multiplying?” he asked.

Dr. Ramsey, who had moved to the side, answered, “Good morning, Mr. Knoblauch. They multiply. It’s horrible.” As he said this, Rai mentally pulled at his hair while screeching over the whiplash the man was giving him with his attitude. Outwardly, he was as calm as can be as he reassured the patient and introduced the patient, Mike Knoblauch, and his case. The moment he gave the floor to Landry, he could see that the male was nervous with Dr. Ramsey. It didn’t help that Dr. Ramsey gave a retort to Landry’s stuttering.

Catching his fellow intern’s eye, he mouthed, “You got this” and mimed taking a deep breath. Landry shot him a grateful look before continuing with his presentation. He still stumbled a bit, but managed to relay the rest of the patient’s details. The moment he finished and Dr. Ramsey gave a nod of approval, Landry mouthed his thanks to Rai. Then, Aurora spoke up from behind the group, questioning their seriousness over the internal bleeding found. Rai nodded in acknowledgement of the question and answered it with his assessment. Mike then asked how long he would be stuck in the hospital.

He was rather upset hearing it would take it a week. What’s more, he was angered at the prospect of the hospital profiting from his prolonged stay. Rai was quick to sympathise with him and explain that they had to be careful, urging him to think of his son should something happen. Mike grumbled but relented at that. They then continued on with their rounds and by the end of it, Rai felt like flopping on the ground for a break.

He barely heard Dr. Ines’ congratulations and Dr. Ramsey’s warning to the group as his mind conjured a miniature version of him flopped on a cloud. When Landry came over to thank him for earlier, he gave a small grin and a thumbs up. Just as he was about to go for a water break, he sees Dr. Ramsey beckoning to him. “Not you Rookie, you’ve got one more to present” he told the intern. Mentally, Rai wailed as alarms rang out, but nodded nonetheless and followed the man.

They enter a room where a woman sits up and smiles at them. Even with her arm in a cast, her smile managed to light up the room. With her gaze at Rai she stated, “Please tell me, you’re my new doctor.” At that, Rai gave a chuckle before turning to Dr. Ramsey for confirmation. Upon hearing what happened to the patient’s previous doctor; Rai’s mind provided the mental image of Dr. Ramsey literally kicking a faceless man in a golf outfit with a stethoscope out of the hospital. He had to bite the inside of cheek to stop from laughing before he presented the case as instructed.

When he grabbed the chart, he did a quick read and his brows furrowed. “Patient is Kyra Santana, twenty-eigth years old. She has a fractured radius in need of casting” he paused as he caught Dr. Ramsey’s assessing look, “But you clearly know that already so that means there’s more to this” he muttered before flipping through the chart and scanning it. Spotting the anomaly he declared, “The main issue isn’t the broken arm, it’s her cancer, you brought me here to see if I could detect a bigger picture” before fighting a flush as he saw Dr. Ramsey nod in approval.

“You’re not completely hopeless then Rookie” he offered before lecturing, “The real problem isn’t always obvious. If it was, they’d let any idiot become a doctor” ending with a snort. Rai tilted his head and looked at Kyra, “If she’s here for a treatment, then… where does the broken arm come in?” he wondered.

Kyra gave a grin before explaining how she had been on her way to a C.T. when she spotted an abandoned bike at the side of the street. She had apparently always wanted to learn how to ride a bike and took it as a sign. Problem was, she was worse at riding a bike than she thought she was and ended up wiping out. Rai gave a laugh at the, “Well, at least no one can say you don’t have guts” he told her. She pointed at him and exclaimed, “Right?!” before the two were interrupted by Dr. Ramsey asking Rai what the treatment plan was. “Well, I’m sure she already has a treatment plan so I’ll get to work on casting her arm” he stated before Dr. Ramsey nodded and told him to do that before leaving.  

Rai turned back to Kyra, "Alright then! Let's get that cast on you and send you for the scan. How's that sound?" He asked. “Tragic, for a first date” she responded and Rai barked a laugh. He ruffled his hair and told her, “An A+ for effort, would have worked if I didn’t bat for the other team.” Kyra gave a mock sigh and snapped her fingers, “Damn, they were right, all the hot guys ARE gay, taken, or both” she mused.

Rai gave a grin at that, "Ah, it usually depends, if it makes you feel any better, I don't really mind it” he consoled. A mischievous grin was his response, “Good. Then I’ll do it incessantly” she stated. Another laugh escaped Rai, “Just make sure you leave time to beat cancer” he joked to her. She seemed to dim at that and even tried to show a brave face by joking over living as much as possible with death near. Rai immediately corked that by encouraging her before urging her to give him her arm.

Once her arm was cast she thanked him by addressing him by his title before he told her to call him by his name. She grinned at that, brightening once more as she asked him to be the first to sign her cast. Considering what to write, Rai grinned before writing “Carpe Diem” and signing his name in kanji. Kyra peered at the characters and asked, “You didn’t write some weird phrase like they do with those character tattoos did you?” gesturing to the kanji Rai wrote.

Briefly adopting a look of mock hurt to make Kyra snort in amusement, Rai shook his head, “It’s my name” he explained, “My last name is written as forest while my first name is written as lightning” pointing to the respective characters. “Badass…” Kyra breathed before looking at Rai, “You know… I’ll be here pretty often, cancer and all, so…” her grin seemed to say it all. Rai gave an answering smile. “I’ll see you around Kyra, and hopefully with no more broken bones” he said as he left, laughing as he heard her call, “No promises!” when he stepped out the room.

Later as he was checking on other patients, he distantly heard the sound of something approaching. Due to years of learning when to dodge out of necessity, Rai had flattened himself against a wall before Dr. Ramsey even finished his yell of “Out of the way Hayashi!” and past him with several other staff wheeling a seizing patient on a gurney. When another doctor arrived to ask about the patient, Rai did a double take upon hearing him call Dr. Ramsey by his first name, Taking another look at the man, Rai blinked as he soon recognized him as Dr. Naveen Banerji; Dr. Ramsey’s mentor.

Rai knew that if he had a tail, it would be wagging wildly to match the stars in his eyes. “Trying not to fanboy there too hard Hayashi?” he heard a voice asks and turns to see Bryce grinning at him. Lightly smacking the surgical intern’s shoulder he huffed, “Jerk, we can’t all be as carefree as you” before sighing, “Man, I would have loved to see them in action.”

A mischievous spark entered Bryce’s eyes, “Who says you can’t?” he offered, raising his surgeon keycard. Realizing his implication, Rai turned to him with wide hopeful eyes, unintentionally giving the other male a puppy eye look. Bryce gave a chuckle at that before ruffling Rai’s hair and gesturing for him to follow. The two tried to not draw attention as they crept to the observation deck.

“I owe you one Bryce” Rai whispered as they settled in the room; “I’ll remember that” Bryce whispered back, a devilish grin on his face. Responding by sticking out his tongue at the other, Rai turned his attention to the O.R. As he mentally took notes, he heard Bryce murmur, “Where’s the fireworks? Are they gonna cut him open or what?” and he turned to give the surgical intern a deadpan look.

“Ha ha, always got to have the clever line don’t you?” he whispered. Bryce gave an unrepentant shrug, “Always” he whispered back, “But seriously, they’re standing around talking. Why didn’t you want to be a surgeon?” his question throwing Rai off. For a moment, Rai was silent, then he met Bryce’s eyes with his, “That’s… a story meant for another time” he murmured, a flash of sadness crossing his eyes as he said it. This seemed to surprise Bryce before he nodded in understanding and patted Rai’s shoulder.

Nodding his thanks, Rai turned his attention back to the diagnosticians, enraptured by the work they were doing. The different pieces soon came into place and Rai murmured out the problem and Bryce smiled, impressed. As the doctors finished up their analysis Rai murmured, “It’s no wonder they’re known as the best with skills like that” sighing in admiration. He then turned to Bryce and asked, “Is it okay if I ask why you became a surgeon?”

Bryce nodded, “Always liked fixing things. Appliances, stuff around the house, you know?” he explained and Rai gave a hum. He found himself looking at Bryce in a brighter light, “So you think people are like unique machines, sometimes needing a fix and with how different every person can be in different ways, fixing them is like… a new experience each time” he surmised and Bryce quietly exclaimed, “You get it!”

The surgical intern then perked when he noticed that the patient had been placed into his coma. He seemed to lean in closer for a better look, “They finally knocked him out? Nice. Now comes the cutting right?” he asked and Rai snorted. He knocked their shoulders together, “You’re incorrigible!” he muttered to him, nearly knocking Bryce over before they burst into giggles. At that moment, Dr. Ramsey glances up at the observation window. The two quickly duck down and with a pounding heart Rai hissed to Bryce, “Time to go.”

Bryce empathically nodded and the two quickly snuck out. Once they were back in the hallway, Rai gave a breathless laugh, “That… was great! Thanks again Bryce” he enthused to the other, grinning brightly. “Ah, as if I could say no to those puppy eyes of yours, and now you owe me one!” Bryce responded, cheekily pinching Rai’s cheek.

Playfully slapping Bryce’s hand away, Rai rolled his eyes, “Yes, yes, I’ll brace myself for whatever you got up your sleeves for me in the future, now shoo! We both got work to get back to. Bryce laughed before sneaking in a boop on Rai’s nose and running off with a wave. Giving another eyeroll, Rai went back to his rounds.

Later on, Landry and him checked on Mike and learned more details about him and even his son, they mulled over his condition. After considering all the possibilities and what they learned from Mike, the duo soon managed to find the problem. They soon relayed a treatment plan to the patient, with Rai assuring him that while it would take time and work, he would be able to get out of the hospital soon enough.

While the two did a mini (though slightly awkward on Landry’s part) celebration, they received a text from Sienna. Apparently the landlord had responded but if they didn’t go now, there was a high chance the apartment would go to someone else. Landry urged him to join Sienna and Elijah, stating that he would handle things at the hospital. After making sure it was really alright with Landry, he quickly set off.

It didn’t take long for the trio to be rushing towards the apartment building. Suffice to say, it was worth the rush when they were presented with the apartment. Just as they were imagining themselves in the beautiful place, the landlord, Farley, quickly dashed things down. Apparently a tech group had made a rather big bid on the place as well. It took some quick thinking but Rai managed to seal the deal once he and the others managed to convince the man they would be more reliable in terms of meeting rent and maintaining the apartment. Plus they sweetened the deal by adding in Sienna’s treats once a week.

Days later, Rai and his friends were happily settling into their new apartment when he realized that he had left his I.D. at the hospital. Well, it was lucky that it was only 10 minutes away now.

#open heart #oh fic #m!mc #m!mc x ethan ramsey #carrisa writes #in your eyes

[pauldron-pieces]

Perdita 'Aurelezra' Gentle's Backstory: From Elsewhere

Fandom: Dungeons And Dragons (5E)

Pairing: N/A, Perdita-Centric

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: This is a hypothetical narrative scenario featuring original characters in a world created by my Dungeon Master. As usual, this is non-canon and I own nothing aside from intellectual properties specifically attached to Perdita Gentle. This installment is mechanically unsound in a multitude of ways and ignores certain important lore facets.

Applicable trigger warnings are listed inside. Enjoy!

Taglist: @sporadic-fics and @cookiethewriter!

Inspired By: The Little Mermaid Score: Bedtime and sleepmakeswaves: One Day You Will Teach Me To Let Go Of My Fears

[Perdita Gentle is a Warforged celestial warlock utilizing the Pact Of The Bastion homebrew, and her appearance can be found here!]

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains multiple triggering scenes including vivid depictions of violence and brief mentions of character death. Stay safe!]

It came from elsewhere...

Amidst the hail of shooting stars peppering the landscape from the tail of the near-passing comet, something else arrived.

It was frail, fragile, spindly fingers clawing for purchase on the walls of the crater it emerged from. It did not make it much further than that, and it was discovered the following morning by two children surveying the damage in their family's garden.

Between the two of them, they propped it up, marveling at the chipped red gilding that coated its limbs. It stirred and they fled in a panic, running back towards the large house and calling for their parents.

×+×

Brand stared down at the crumpled mess of Warforged on his front terrace, an eyebrow raised. His two young children danced around his legs, alternating between pulling him forward and tugging him back. "This is the cause of all the fuss? This?" He asked incredulously.

"It moved by itself!"

"Aye, just as you move by yourself." The former captain commented dryly, ruffling his daughter's hair and utterly destroying the complex tangle of braids her mother had labored over. "You two lubbers have seen Warforged before, or have you forgotten?"

"Testin doesn't look like that!" His son protested. "Testin has a face!"

"You know how your hair is different from mine, pup? And how your sister's nose is less prodigious than this beak I sport? Warforged have such varied traits as well."

The head on the thing looked like an old Thanatonaut relic, just a smooth dome. It also bore archaic equipment for off-Flow navigation on the inside of its arms. Brand heaved out a sigh, smoothing a finger over his brown mustache in a meditative manner.

"Well, we can't just leave 'em out here. Ceere, have your mother ring Testin. And you, Kamer, are going to help me settle this poor rattler into one of our chairs out here." Brand rolled his eyes at how pale his son went, while Ceere stuck her tongue out at him. "Oi, chit, stop taunting your brother. Now shoo, and make sure your mother knows to tell Testin that it's important!"

×+×

Brand Gentle had made his fortune in his younger years as the eventual captain on a deep-space excavation platform. He had seen many odd things in his day, unearthed strange and unusual artifacts from times long gone by. Thanatonaut helms that predated mankind's fumbling into Flow travel, monoliths to terrible and forgotten powers; the refuse of man's advance into the stars.

Yet he had never seen anything quite like this. A Warforged birthed of a meteor, trimmed in battered red and gold like the veils of the Vespertine Order.

The former captain sat on his patio across from the mysterious Warforged, finally leaning forward in his chair after he collected his thoughts. "What is your name?" He asked quietly.

The thing ticked and whirred, and a hoarse voice answered, "I have no designation." A female voice.

Brand sighed heavily. He should have known it wouldn't be so straightforward. Beside him, Testin Awe cleared his throat. "Think back. Can you remember what happened before you woke in the Gentle's prize rose garden?" The hulking Warforged's tone was dry, blue eyes darting to Brand when he touched upon the sensitive subject. Brand was exceedingly protective of his roses.

More ticking. "Darkness." An odd shimmy of mechanics long unused as she tipped her head to the side. "I fell."

"I bet you did." Testin replied, then muttered under his breath, "Captain, she's battier than the Bakhroma Green."

Brand waved him off, giving the faceless Warforged across from him a tight smile. She cocked her head to the side again, and he got the unsettling feeling that he was being studied.

"I hurt your flowers. How can I fix them?" She queried.

Brand blinked. Testin, despite lacking an actual throat, seemed quite intent on clearing it today.

×+×

Calling her Perdita seemed to be a given. She was lost, constantly, wandering the grounds of the Gentle estate at all hours of the night and day. She had no physical needs, as was the custom of her race, so Brand saw no harm in her roving. She certainly didn't seem malicious, just curious in a blunt way.

Libertia, Brand's wife, took an odd shine to the spacey automaton. The former captain often found the woman chatting to her, trying to help her expand her ability for speech. Perdita was minimalist in her words, though she did eventually begin to speak more as the years passed.

Testin thought Perdita was a bit touched. "Still a little battle-rattle in that one." He had remarked privately to Brand, his craggy face oddly sympathetic for a Warforged. "Hard to shake sometimes."

Brand knew better than most folk that Warforged were more than adequate matches for their fleshy counterparts, and he took everything his old first mate told him as gospel. Testin was in agreement with Brand that the red and gold Warforged was decidedly not a threat.

"She just likes the flowers?" Testin asked suddenly one evening as he and Brand sat on the terrace. Brand nodded lazily, the smoke from his cheroot cigar twirling and arching through the air. "I don't get it, but...well, I guess you did have a penchant for gathering up the misfits." The gray-green Warforged allowed, his sidelong grin making Brand chuckle. "She's happy here, y'know. She mentioned it to me earlier. She thinks she's helping when you let her trim the bushes." His laughter was a rusty noise.

"She loves talking with Lib. Er, with may not be the right term. My wife could talk the legs off a table." Brand smiled fondly and Testin rolled those glowing blue eyes.

"Have you heard from Kamer at all?" The large Warforged changed the subject, frowning when the former captain sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not sure I should have sent him away for his schooling. What with the Empire gaining ground steadily, I'm uncertain how long the boarding schools will be safe."

"Hey, Kamer's smart. You know that. That kid won't get himself tangled up in anything. Besides, what the hell would the Empire want with a kid who's sole aspiration is to be an architect?" Testin tilted his head. "Now, Ceere-"

"Don't remind me, she's apprenticed to the Facturers now. Hopefully, by the grace of the gods, she'll put her tinkering tendencies to good use and stop destroying my beautiful skiffs." Brand groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"I mean, she's got great potential. Engine ripped itself apart in three different places."

"I'm well aware, you mechanical menace. It was my favorite Screamer class!"

×+×

Libertia was the one to suggest that Perdita consider taking up the habit of the Vespertine Order.

"You seem at peace whenever you come with me to chapel, Perdie." She commented one afternoon over tea. Brand raised an eyebrow at his wife, then glanced at the featureless automaton across the way. "Have you ever thought about joining the convent?" Libertia queried.

Perdita hummed thoughtfully. "I like the chapel. It's quiet. Makes me feel like I can stop moving." She offered a shrug. "I know I'm not...quiet." She was a much older model than Testin and her body tended to rattle or squeak at odd intervals.

"You don't feel like you can be still here?" Brand asked curiously.

"I am restless." The Warforged admitted quietly. "Some things help. The garden. The chapel."

Brand grunted, settling back in his chair and lapsing into thought. The Vespertine sisters were a formidable bunch, for all that they resided on this backwater planetoid. They seemed to have their proverbial fingers in a multitude of pies. He wasn't sure if he trusted them with his Perdie.

His mustache quirked up in a wry grin, realizing that he was thinking of the Warforged like she was one of his own children. "Do what you think is best, Perdie. Perhaps the quiet will help you sort yourself out. Gods know we tithe enough to the church, maybe in exchange for our continued generosity they'll accept someone a little less fleshy than their usual ranks."

He got the faintest impression that Perdita was beaming at him, her whole body haloed with a strange golden light. But Brand blinked and the light was gone. He shook his head at himself, vowing not to spike his afternoon tea so strongly next time.

×+×

When the Empire came to the planet years later, they struck without warning.

Evening prayer had just finished, the last fleeting rays of sunlight peering through the simple leaded glass windows of the chapel. Perdita sat docile in the pew, her head bowed beneath her veil.

"It makes me glad to know that you've found some sort of peace and purpose." Brand commented, the now-elderly man ambling up alongside her. "Never put much faith in this church business, myself. Give me the Flow and a nimble craft and I'm a content man."

"Captain." She inclined her head. She had heard his sentiment many times before.

"I'm surprised you haven't gone out to chart the world, my dear. Your cartographer's gear will get rusty!" The former captain teased, settling down into the pew and patting her arm. "Surely, the Vespertine sisters ought to be spread?"

"It is dangerous." Perdita sighed. "I am trying. The Ferrarium Empire-"

"Bah, belay that codswallop here." Brand groused. "Bunch of nobles in stuffed shirts with too many guns and not enough good sense. Stole my good boy away and turned him into a simpering buffoon." He bowed his head, touching his thumb to his left cheek and then his sternum. "Thank the gods his mother passed on before he made that terrible choice."

An odd whistling caught his attention, and Brand cocked his head. His hearing had been shot for years, maybe he was imagining the sound-

The windows abruptly exploded inwards as an impact rocked the ground. Sisters scurried this way and that in panic, their veils fluttering like butterfly wings as they ushered the last few stragglers out of the structure. Brand, his ears still ringing from the first bombardment, felt a second one strike outside. Perdita was stiff, unmoving in the pew, so he seized her hand and made haste for the doorway.

"Perdie, we cannot linger in this place!" He tried to snap her out of it, her deceptively-heavy form slowing their flight. "It's the Empire, Perdie, we have to--" Through the haze of dust rising, the former captain caught sight of a massive dreadnought's keel flying low overhead. Rage burned at his soul; why would they come here of all places? This was a planet of agriculture, not manufacturing!

Perdita tilted her head, and Brand knew that she must have noticed the ship. "What is that?" She asked, her voice ticking up slightly in query.

"That is something that should not have turned its eye upon us!" Brand snapped. "Why the devil would they-" There was shouting up ahead, and scattered pistol fire. "Martyr's malfeasance," the elderly man swore, "I ought to have known."

The Inquisitors had arrived, bearing overpowered arms and causing chaos as was their want. Brand managed to slip around the edge of the advancing line, searching the crowds for Testin's large form. His old first mate was nowhere to be seen and Brand's heart sank.

An Inquisitor loomed up out of the smoke in front of them, halting the former captain in his tracks. "Identify yourself, civilian." The armored man droned.

"Or what? You've already blown the chapel and convent to pieces!" Brand spat. "What could the Ferrarium Empire possibly want from a sleepy little colony planet?"

The Inquisitor's baton met the side of the elderly man's head with a dull thud, felling him with ease.

×+×

Brand started awake, hacking and wheezing as he inhaled ash. He sat up, ignoring the throbbing of his head. Where is-

"Perdita!" He yelled, struggling to his feet and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Perdie, where are you?"

The cobblestones underfoot had been broken and scattered by the mortaring, making the footing uncertain. The former captain stumbled forward over the rubble, continuing to call for the Warforged.

A shimmer of red and gold flickered through the hellish smoke up ahead, and he fancied it might be her habit. His suspicions proved correct as her frail form solidified out of the clouds of billowing dust and ash.

"Perdita!" Brand exclaimed gladly.

She turned slowly at the sound of his voice, that damned veil still flapping fitfully in the turbulent air. Beneath the gauzy shroud where her domed head was, the former captain saw something blaze to life. Eyes, hundreds of them, glowing through the fabric. Brand stopped in his tracks, uncertain of what he was seeing. That blow to the head must have rattled him, now he was hallucinating!

Her hand pressed to her chest over the long habit. "I am the bastion." Perdita said calmly, as though they weren't being bombarded by low-flying aircraft. "I am Vespertine, I am Alizarin, I am reborn. My name is Aurelezra, and I fell to defend."

A shell plummeted from the sky and with a single motion, she obliterated it. One moment it was there, the next, she simply pointed at it and a shimmering golden manifestation that resembled an enormous rose blossom appeared directly in its path. The shell struck it, the impact sending foiled shrapnel flitting listlessly to the ground.

Brand was wholly bewildered. The only other time he had witnessed such power was when-

The thousands of eyes swiveled to stare at him, blinking rapidly. Brand swallowed hard. "What did those blasted nuns do to you, Perdie?" He asked, his voice so low he wasn't sure if she would hear it over the pandemonium.

Perdita tipped her head to the side, those eyes writhing and teeming nauseatingly over one another, flickering through the habit in a way that made Brand exceedingly glad she was wearing it. "I am the bastion." She repeated. She sounded hideously serene. "I am Alizarin."

Rifle reports barked through the air and Perdita turned towards the noise, setting off over the debris with sure steps. "Wait, Perdie!" Brand protested, fumbling after her as best as he could. "Perdie, are you mad? These are Inquisitors, you can't just..." He trailed off as he watched her simply walk through the line of gunfire. "Or perhaps you can." He muttered.

A strange golden haze shone around her body and every time a bullet struck the haze, a malevolent eye roiled to the surface to fix the attacker with a blazing stare. More shells rained down and each one was foiled or thrown off-target by shimmering, sunset-hued roses, blossoming riotously to life in midair like some grand fireworks display at a midsummer fair.

"Captain!" That was Testin's voice, thank gods. The elderly man turned this way and that, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally spotted the towering mass that was Testin.

"Testin my boy, you're a sight for sore eyes!" Brand said with a wry grin, taking in the small cluster of nuns that were teeming anxiously in the shadow of the massive automaton. Among them was the Mother Superior, her black veil a stark contrast to the usual red. "You've got some explaining to do, woman! What the hell have you done to my Perdie?" Brand thundered, itching to shake her until her teeth rattled.

"Sister Perdita has spent many, many hours reading the scriptures and studying our texts, Captain Gentle." The woman replied, almost infuriatingly calm. "She was brought to this planet for a specific reason."

"What are you on about? Look at her! It's like she's possessed!" The elderly man shouted.

"She has become more, Captain. A vessel for something that we mere mortals have only glimpsed. Alizarin, the Red Saint."

"There's a thousand blasted eyes all over her and she's sending out starbursts of roses that intercept cannon fire!" Brand roared. "I'll only ask once more, what have you done to her?"

"She willingly accepted this power, Captain. I suggest you calm yourself. I know you do not believe or trust in the power of the Red Saint, but Sister Perdita does." The matron retorted haughtily. "And when Libertia was alive-"

"Keep my wife's name out of your mouth." Brand snarled, his hand instinctively twitching down towards his hip for the piece he had carried in his younger years.

"Easy now, Cap." Testin intoned, raising a hand. "Easy."

"You planned this from the start." Brand accused the woman, a sick sense of realization blossoming in his gut. "You put the idea in Libertia's head, didn't you? Why Perdie?"

"Warforged make excellent vessels." The Mother Superior said simply.

Testin rumbled in threat overhead, one large hand settling heavily on the woman's shoulder. "I suggest you choose your next words very carefully." The Warforged paladin's tone was one of extreme irritation. "Unless you'd like to find out how bad of a vessel I can be."

"She has become a warlock of exceptional power." The woman hurriedly continued. "The Red Saint is pleased with our offering, and he will-"

"The Red Saint, aye? Unwilling martyr himself." Brand scoffed. "You've gone and turned my girl into a nightmare for the glory of that flayed demagogue."

"A nightmare that can go toe-to-toe with Inquisitor gunsmithing." The Mother Superior shot back smugly. "You knew as well as I did that it was only a matter of time before the Ferrarium Empire turned their gaze to the Fringes. Their grasping for resources is ceaseless."

"As interesting as your bickering is, we're wasting time." Testin growled, gesturing vaguely forwards. "She's gaining on their dreadnought. We following her?"

×+×

Everything was so loud.

"It is time, Aurelezra." His voice was like smoke, like whispers. He drew her attention upwards to the ship, He guided her hands as she wove the spell and He found her the suitable target. "They will not take this planet. They will never take again."

Perdita nodded shakily, power dripping and sparking from her fingers. "Never again."

"You have done well, Aurelezra. You easily outstrip the mortals." He praised as she raised her hands. "I shall do such wonders through you."

×+×

Without warning, a bolt of red light shot from Perdita's hands and arced up at the command ship. Testin swore loudly, the Warforged's face twisting into an approximation of a grimace. "Oh, that's not good." He said hoarsely, leaving the cluster of nuns behind as he moved forward.

"What, what's happened?" Brand asked frantically, trying to keep up.

"That was something that uh, I wouldn't have used. A little too spicy for me." The Warforged grunted, readying the hand cannon integrated in his left forearm. His heavy, elephantine feet easily crushed the rubble beneath him, clearing the way for the former captain. "If everyone on that ship isn't dead after that spell hits..."

"What?" Brand gasped.

Testin shook his head mournfully, not finishing that trail of thought. "We need to figure out where the ship will go down. Figure out whether we can break it apart ahead of time or whether your Perdie has a few more Red Saint tricks up that veil." Testin's sigh was heavy. "I'm sorry, Captain."

The command ship began rapidly losing altitude, listing slightly to the right. Perdita pursued it doggedly and Brand watched her raise her hands again. "Perdie!" He shouted, heartened when she paused. "Stop, Perdie!"

"Stay put!" Testin yelled, then said, "Cap, either get onboard or get left behind, we don't have time for your old bones."

Brand growled something uncharitable about his former first mate, then swung up onto the pro-offered arm.

Testin sprinted forward, easily catching up to the waifish Perdita and grabbing her around the waist with one massive hand. "I'd like to shake the marbles clean out of your chest right now, but we don't have time for me to be pissed off at you." Testin snarled at her, still at his full sprint. "You got anything else in that arsenal of yours, or are you gonna' let that ship crush someone's farm?"

"I can do it."

"What, exactly?"

Perdita pointed upwards at the ship and simply said, "shatter." A massive golden rose exploded into being on the keel, blowing a hole in the hull the size of the town square. Splinters and beams rained down, Testin barely managing to dodge a few of the larger chunks.

"Martyr's malfeasance, you're a menace!" The larger Warforged said in disbelief, the cannon in his left arm whirring to life as the ship sank within his range. "I mean, keep it up, but saint's blood you are an absolute terror." His cannon glowed, shoulder tight when he fired and sent the projectile rocketing upwards to erupt in a radiant blast. "Not fancy, but any port in a storm." He huffed, trying to chamber another round without releasing Perdita.

"There's so much." Perdita was shaking in Testin's grip. Molten gold trailed from her fingertips and every eye that shone through the veil was wide open.

Brand clambered across Testin's shoulders, the elderly man reaching out so he could grab one of her hands. "Listen to me, Perdie." He said loudly, trying to make sure she could hear him over the rapidly-approaching creak of timbers and warning system alarms. "You've got some kind of hellfiring power now, right?"

Perdita nodded slowly. "He's so loud." She breathed, and Brand knew with crushing certainty that she wasn't talking about himself or Testin.

"Aye, I'm sure he is. But if he wants to have you as his vessel, he needs to understand that you're the captain." Brand reasoned fiercely. "You bite back at that freeloader and you tell him you're the damned captain, you hear me girl?!"

×+×

I'm the captain.

Perdita clung to the thought, staggering through the red haze of her subconscious.

I'm the captain.

Alizarin nodded in acquiescence. "That you are, Aurelezra. For now. For this moment. What will you do?" He chuckled. "You are unfamiliar with such power. You have already overdrawn yourself. What will you do, Defender?"

It doesn't matter whether I'm tired. I'm the captain. Me. Not you, she thought stubbornly.

×+×

Perdita clawed her way up Testin's arm to his shoulder, the larger Warforged rumbling in confusion. "What the hell are you doing now?"

"I'm the captain." Perdita said sharply. Blast after golden blast was flung by her hand, the ship groaning under the assault. Timbers cracked and creaked like the ship was caught in a ferocious gale. "I'm the captain!" She yelled, "I'm the captain!"

The dreadnought rent itself apart at the scuppers with one final impact, briefly looking like the massive ribcage of some eldritch horror. The engines tore free of their mooring, the shriek of metal heralding doom for the trio as they plummeted downwards. Testin tried to backpedal, but he had built up such a head of steam and the engines were so enormous-

Brand fumbled to catch Perdita's hand once again, closing his eyes as he heard Testin grit out what he assumed was his final swear.

Looks like I'll be home soon, Lib.

"A Bastion for my faithful." That was not Perdita's voice. It was barely a whisper, smooth as silk and light as a favorable breeze. "Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have seen my power once before. Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have survived my power once before. Blessed shall you be, Brand Gentle, though you do not believe."

A golden dome sheathed the triumvirate of individuals, millions of eyes scattered across it opening and closing at random. Brand gripped Perdita's hand as tightly as he dared, uncertain if he was the only one seeing this...wonder.

"Fear not, Brand Gentle. She will not be harmed."

The dome vanished and Testin fairly seethed with curses, the gray-green Warforged reeling back a step from the flaming wreckage of the engine that surrounded them. A neat circle had been sheared out from the dome, the edges still molten and smoking.

"That's it. Whatever's gotten into you, I'm tearing it out of you!" the paladin announced, grappling Perdita around the waist again. "Send that cosmic bastard back to the Deep Reef where it belongs, I-" He paused when she went limp in his hold, lowering his glowing right hand after a moment. "Uh...Perdie?" He asked warily, shaking her until she rattled. "Perdie?"

"I'm the captain." She responded, her voice reedy with exhaustion. Perdita reached out to Brand, and he carefully laced his fingers through her own. "I-I'm the...captain..."

"Aye child," Brand murmured, "that you are."

×+×

The whole colony banded together to scuttle the dreadnought's bones. The Vespertine sisters made themselves marvellously useful when it came to putting the dead to rest.

Most of the ship's crew had been slaughtered by whatever Perdita had done with that spell, and the few left alive had perished on impact.

Testin had grunted in satisfaction as he surveyed the red veiled sisters scurrying to and fro in the wreckage. "I think your Perdie just fired the galaxy's largest warning shot."

"Aye." Brand had agreed wearily. "Now all that's left to see is whether the Empire will take notice."

"Their dreadnoughts aren't usually...destroyed, Captain. Once word gets back to them, all hell's going to break loose." The Warforged predicted grimly, his arms folded over his chest. "You'd better make sure she clears atmosphere before they come back around."

"I don't think I could make her stay!" The former captain chuckled. "She's always been on the move, Testin. High time she did something with all that energy."

×+×

"The Gotengo has been moored for years, Captain. You think it can still hold up?" Testin mused, poring over the old schematics.

Brand sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "It's the finest craft I have at my disposal, dusty or not. And she'll need something nimble if she's planning on trekking out there through the blockades." He meandered to the window of his study, staring down at his rose garden without actually seeing it. "I've already gotten in touch with Squire Deering, and he claims he's found a slew of candidates for her crew."

Testin snorted in disbelief. "And you trust that penny-pinching miser? Guy probably trawled through three different wharfside taverns and asked for able-bodied seamen."

"Deering may be a...bit tight fisted, but he's a good man. I have great faith that when Perdita arrives, she'll be shown nothing but courtesy." Brand assured the gray-green Warforged, stroking his mustache.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I distinctly remember that waistcoat-wearing ponce saddling you with a ship that had a rotted out mainmast." Testin deadpanned. "What did he blame it on? Moths?"

Brand coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Regardless, he will treat her right. Warforged or not, she's the captain."

"A new Captain Gentle." Testin shook his head ruefully. "Never thought I'd see the day. Bodes pretty shit for the Empire, if you ask me."

"All I hope is that she and that blooded saint first mate of hers give them hell."

#perdita gentle #captain perdita gentle #dungeons and dragons 5e #dnd writing #dnd 5e character #dnd warforged #dnd warlock #celestial warlock #dnd npc #dnd backstory #warlock backstory #dnd character #dungeons and dragons #she's been retired but I love her #my lil captain #pact of the bastion #warlock pact

[the-regal-warrior]

Stay Close to Me: Chapter Three

I know I made you wait a little for this, but I think it’s worth the wait! As always, shout out to @nalgenewhore for all the help she’s given me with this story. I also want to thank each and every one of you who has interacted with this story in any way. All your likes, reblogs, and comments really do make my day!

Summary: Elide and Lorcan are best friends who happen to be sleeping together. It’s a perfect friends with benefits situation. Or, is it? Will they catch feelings? Will they date other people? Read on to find out!

Warnings: NSFW, obviously. And language, also obviously. Seriously, if either of them offend you, this is not the story for you.

.

Forty-five minutes after Elide’s date was meant to start, Lorcan was still sprawled on his bed, although he’d managed to shed his clothes. He had one hand under his head, the other wrapped around his cock even though he knew his chances of getting himself off were slim. 

Despite trying as hard as he could to push thoughts of Elide from his head, the image of her showing herself off in that absolutely wicked lingerie kept popping into his mind. The thought of all her curves on display in such beautiful wrapping had him hard and dripping precum in no time.

Deciding to take advantage of the opportunity that presented itself, he began stroking his cock as he pulled images of his latest tumble with her into his head. However, his imagination was a cruel thing, and the beautiful images quickly turned into a faceless stranger wrapped around Elide, her eyes blown wide with lust as someone other than him pounded into her.

It had continued on like that for the rest of the afternoon, and Lorcan knew that he wouldn’t be able to find release no matter how hard he tried.

He’d just resigned himself to taking a cold shower when his phone started buzzing. Picking it up and answering without looking to see who was calling, he practically growled, “What?”

“Lorcan?” the voice on the other end questioned, and Lorcan felt his heart stop as he realized it was Elide. “Can you please come pick me up?”

Lorcan was on his feet and pulling on his jeans before he’d so much as blinked. “Elide, if that asshole did anything to you, I swear to the gods…”

“No, Lor, it’s not that. He just - he never showed up and I’m upset. Please just come get me.”

He’d pulled his shirt on and had his feet in his boots before she’d even finished talking. “I’m on my way,” he said, pulling his leather jacket around his shoulders. “Where are you?”

“The Staghorn Pub.”

He was in luck - she was only a couple blocks away. “I’ll be there in five minutes.” 

Lorcan was out the door and in his truck by the time he’d hung up, just barely slamming his door shut before he was tearing out of the parking lot. 

He felt like he got stopped at every red light on his way to Elide, nothing but concern for her racing through his mind with every second he wasn’t at her side. Logically he knew that Elide was more than capable than taking care of herself, but she’d sounded so upset on the phone and he hated the thought of anything hurting her. 

Finally pulling up in front of the pub, he caught sight of Elide standing by the door, and he felt his heart start racing as he took her in. She was wearing a dress that was all lace over her stomach, the pleated leather skirt falling halfway down her thighs. He practically groaned at the sight of her legs encased in black fishnets and her hair falling in perfectly styled waves around her breasts. She’d completed the look with her signature black leather jacket and her Doc Martens. 

She was perfect. And the guy who’d stood her up was an absolute dick. 

Leaning across the cab, he pushed the door open as she walked up to his truck, her eyes downcast as she climbed in. Meeting his gaze, they stared at one another for a couple seconds before Elide was pulling him to her, her lips meeting his in a bruising kiss. 

She tangled her hands into his hair as she pushed her tongue into his mouth, a moan rumbling from her throat when his tongue brushed hers. Lorcan wrapped his arms around her waist, his broad hands making soft passes up and down her spine as she clung to him.

Eventually, Elide broke the kiss, burying her face in his neck. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I just - kissing you always makes me feel better.”

Lorcan pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and another one to her forehead when she pulled back to look at him. At the little whimper that escaped her at the second kiss, he pressed even more to her face - her temple, her cheek, her nose, her jaw - until she relaxed under his touch. “Whatever you need, El. Whatever you need - just tell me and that’s what I’ll do.”

“Can you just take me back to your place?” she whispered, her fingers tracing patterns along the back of his neck. “I want to get out of these clothes and I can’t be alone.”

He nodded at her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before beginning the drive back to his apartment.

~*^*~

By the time Lorcan had pulled into his parking spot, Elide had managed to calm herself down, although the obvious feelings of rejection that came with being stood up still stung. She was still sitting in the truck even after Lorcan had jumped out, and he came around to her door with a concerned look on his face. 

“El?” he murmured as he pulled her door open. “You okay?”

She nodded, sliding over on the seat enough that Lorcan could lift her out of the truck. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding herself against him even as he set her on the ground. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Anytime,” he murmured, hugging her tightly as she rested her head against his chest. “Let’s go get you changed, huh?”

Elide nodded again, grabbing his hand and letting him pull her toward his apartment. Once they were inside, he followed her into his room, eyes roving over her appreciatively as she turned to face him.

When she arched an eyebrow, he merely said, “You look really beautiful, in case no one’s told you that today.”

“Thank you,” she grinned, slipping her jacket off her shoulders and tossing it on his desk. The rest of her clothes quickly followed, until she was standing before Lorcan clad in only that dark red lace.

He could feel desire shooting straight to his cock, but he did his best to control his urges - even though Elide did not make it easy. Smirking at him, she turned her back on him and bent over to dig a pair of leggings out of his bottom drawer, her ass on perfect display for him.

Lorcan managed to keep from jumping her, even when she turned around to shimmy into her leggings, her tits practically spilling out of her bra with her movements. As soon as they were on she was reaching for the hoodie hanging over the back of his chair. It was an old football hoodie from when he was in high school, and the sight of his last name printed across her back and the way it fell low enough it could be a dress did bad things to his self-control.

Pulling his gaze from her before she could noticed he was staring, Lorcan took a seat on the edge of his bed. Elide was busy tying her hair up in a messy bun on the top of her head, and he used the brief moment of silence to find a way to take her mind off of what had happened. 

An idea hit him just as she turned to face him, and Lorcan grinned up at her. 

Elide just offered him a shy smile in return - no doubt due to the disappointment of being stood up - before she climbed into his lap. Her legs wound up slung around the outside of his hips, and she pressed a quick kiss to his jaw as she wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair. 

“Lor,” she murmured, her face buried in his neck, “if I want you to just sit here and hold me all night, will you?”

He began running his fingers up and down her spine, the action soothing her as he held her against him. “Of course I will - if that’s what you want, of course I’ll do it. But I had an idea of something that I think might cheer you up.”

She pulled her head up to look at him, curiosity lining her features. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “But it’s a surprise, so you’ll just have to trust me. You up for it?”

Elide thought for a moment, leaning in to rest her forehead against his. “Only if you promise to stay close to me during whatever your surprise is.”

“I promise, love. I won’t let you go. Now go put your boots on.”

~*^*~

By the time they arrived at their destination, Elide was practically bouncing in her seat. Lorcan had taken her to Fields of Terror, which was a haunted corn maze and one of her favorite places to go. Though she’d already been there several times this season, the actors switched things up every couple weeks, so it was a new experience every time. 

Pulling into a parking space, Lorcan turned to face her. “So, I take it you like your surprise?”

“I love it!” she squealed, leaning over to kiss his cheek before practically jumping out of his truck. Elide could hear him laughing as he climbed out of the truck, but she was too excited to care. As soon as he rounded the front of his truck she grabbed his hand and began pulling him toward the entrance of the maze. 

In no time at all they had filled out all the necessary release forms that stated they were okay with being grabbed by actors and being separated as part of the attraction, and they were both fitted with the appropriate wristbands. Though the woman had offered to explain how the attraction worked, Elide just waved her off - she’d been here so many times over the years that she had everything memorized. 

The first half of the maze was guided by one of the actors, who would lead them deeper into the maze, stopping at different haunted settings along the way. At some point the actors might choose to separate groups, and then they would eventually “abandon” groups in a little clearing that served as the entrance to the second part of the maze. That part was just a typical corn maze, which groups would have to find their own way out of. 

They joined the queue of people waiting for a guide to lead them into the maze, and Elide turned to face Lorcan with a huge smile on her face. “I love my surprise,” she whispered, tangling her fingers with his. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he murmured, pulling his hand from hers so he could pull her into his chest. His hands settled on her hips, and Elide hummed as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She was glad to have him with her - he’d always been such a reassuring presence in her life. 

After waiting for over half an hour for a date who’d never shown up, Elide was glad of the steady comfort he offered her. Even if the only reason she’d gone on the date was in the hope of getting over her growing feelings for the man currently holding her against his chest, the pain of being rejected still lingered. 

Her feelings for Lorcan had been growing over the past few months they’d been sleeping together, and she knew she needed to do something about it before she slipped up and told him something she’d regret. When a guy in one of her classes had asked her to dinner, she figured it was the perfect opportunity to find a way to put aside her feelings for her fuck buddy and best friend. Though she didn’t have much in common with her date, she’d figured it was a start.

While Elide had been thinking over everything, they’d somehow moved to the front of the line, and it wasn’t long until a man dressed as the ferryman of the Underworld appeared in front of them, beckoning them to follow as he made his way into the maze. 

As their guide led them from one attraction to the next, Elide found that Lorcan kept his promise. He kept their hands tangled as they walked, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of her hand and his fingers occasionally tapping against her thigh. Whenever they stopped to watch one of the scenes play out, he would tuck her into his side, whether with an arm around her waist or her shoulders. Once he’d even placed himself behind her, both arms around her waist with his chin resting on her head.

It was as they were leaving a scene depicting the entrance to a haunted wood, their guide leading them down a path lined with signs declaring they were headed toward a circus, that another figure appeared at the end of the path. As it grew closer, Elide realized it was a clown, his normal makeup made grotesque to match the theme of the maze. 

Their guide stepped out of his way as he approached, the clown’s eyes sweeping down to check both of their wristbands before fixing his gaze on Elide, a smile growing on his face as he selected her as his target. A sinister laugh breaking from his throat, he wrapped one hand around her wrist and began pulling her toward a path that was hidden in the corn. 

Though she’d expected to be separated - it was pretty normal for groups to be split if they’d agreed to it - she still felt the separation from Lorcan more than she usually would have. She kept one hand extended toward him until the clown led her around a bend and he disappeared from view.

Not usually one to be scared or mind being on her own, Elide found she couldn’t wait to get back to Lorcan.

~*^*~

Lorcan paced back and forth in the little clearing, his eyes never leaving the path opposite the one his guide had led him down. He knew Elide would be coming down the other one, he just didn’t know when. Though he knew she could handle herself, and was more than likely having the time of her life, he couldn’t help but worry. 

Elide had specifically asked him to stay close to her tonight - it was the only condition she had for going out at all. Hell, she’d just wanted to stay in and have him hold her all night, and he’d promised he’d stay close if she went along with his surprise. 

Lorcan was in the middle of internally berating himself for being so stupid when he heard footsteps coming down the path. He caught a glimpse of Elide nodding at whatever her guide said to her before she was practically sprinting toward him, something like relief shining on her face when she saw him.

“Lorcan,” she cried, crashing into him with enough force that he had to take a step back to stay on his feet. She slipped her arms around his waist, sliding them underneath his leather jacket and his tee to press her fingers to his skin, basking in the feeling of having him close to her once again. His arms came around her shoulders, one hand tangling in her hair as he held her close to his chest. 

“El,” he breathed, burying his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry, love. I promised to stay close to you, and I broke my promise.”

She breathed deeply against his chest, the sound of his heart calming any lingering anxiety she’d had at being separated. “It’s okay, Lor. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I never would’ve agreed to being separated if I didn’t want to be.” Elide pulled back enough that she could look into his eyes then. “Though I’m definitely glad to be with you again.”

“I’m glad you’re back, too,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on her forehead before turning to lead her into the second part of the maze, one arm still wrapped around her shoulders. 

As they began working their way through the tangle of paths and dead ends, Elide began playing with Lorcan’s fingers where they hung off her shoulder, occasionally pulling his hand up to her mouth and pressing kisses to it. Every time she did, Lorcan would squeeze her shoulders, causing Elide to hum contently as she was pulled closer to him. 

They came to a crossroads, and Lorcan turned to the path on his right, happy to just wander through the maze with Elide by his side. He’d barely managed more than a step in his chosen direction, however, before she was tugging on his hand. He turned to face her, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. 

She giggled at his expression, reaching up with her free hand to soothe the furrow in his brow. “You’re going the wrong way,” she murmured, gesturing back to the path to their left. 

“Oh, am I?” he questioned, tapping a finger against her nose. “And how exactly do you know that?”

“There might be a slight chance that I have this entire maze memorized.”

“Is that so?” He turned her to face him, an idea already forming in his head as he slid his thigh between her legs. “So, does that mean you know how to find us somewhere we can be alone?”

Elide groaned at the deep growl of his voice, biting her lip to keep back another one when he began rubbing his thigh against her pussy. She nodded, not trusting herself to remain quiet if she opened her mouth, and then gestured for him to follow her. 

His thigh slightly damp from the effect of his words on her, Lorcan just smacked her ass and followed her as she led them through several twists and turns. His original plan had just been to make out with her for a little, but the feeling of her dripping sex against his leg had given him an even better idea. 

It wasn’t long before Elide was leading him down a dead end, pulling him into the uncut corn at the end of the path, not stopping until they were deep enough that no one could see them from the maze. Before she even had time to turn and face him, Lorcan pulled her back flush against his chest, one arm banding around her waist as his other hand came to rest on her throat. 

“Lor,” she whimpered, rubbing her ass against the growing hardness in his jeans as he slid his hand from her waist to cup her over her leggings. 

His fingers trailing lightly over her, Lorcan leaned in to whisper in her ear. “So wet for me already and I haven’t even touched you.” Pressing two fingers down on her clit, he drew another whimper from her lips. He tightened his grip on her throat, cutting off the start of a moan as he restricted her air supply. “Try to stay quiet for me. Can you do that?”

Elide shook her head - as much as she could with his grip on her throat - and rocked her hips against his hand.

He squeezed her throat one more time before sliding his hand over her jaw and using it to cover her mouth. “Guess I’ll have to help you out.”

She pressed her lips to his palm as a silent thank you as she relaxed against him. He pressed a kiss to her cheek before returning to the matter at hand. He slid his hand inside her leggings, palming her once over the sinful lace that covered her already dripping folds before dipping his fingers beneath them too. 

Knowing that he couldn’t take too long lest someone stumble across them, Lorcan pressed him thumb to her clit as he worked two fingers inside of her. “Such a tight little pussy,” he crooned, her walls squeezing his fingers as he pumped them deep inside her. 

Elide shuddered against him, her moans vibrating against one hand as her hips rolled against the other. Twisting and curling his fingers, Lorcan drove them deeper within her walls as he searched for that one spot. 

He knew the minute he found it, since she nipped the skin of his palm with her teeth in an effort to keep from crying out in pleasure. Chuckling lightly in her ear, he continued to work his fingers over that spot, flicking his thumb against her clit in time with each thrust of his fingers.

Lorcan was relentless, never slowing or faltering, and he knew that Elide was desperately close by the way her walls fluttered and spasmed around him and the sound of her needy moans muffled by his hand. Deciding not to tease her any longer, he took the skin of her neck between his lips, sucking a dark bruise onto the pale expanse of her throat. 

He scraped his teeth over the mark, and that seemed to be her undoing. Elide screamed into his hand as she came undone, her walls clenching down on his fingers as her orgasm tore through her. Her hips reflexively rolled against his hand, her body seeking out more pleasure even as she shook with the force of her release.

He worked her through the entire thing, fingers stroking over her walls lightly until she stopped shaking in his arms. When she’d finally relaxed, he pulled his fingers from her flooded pussy, lifting them up as he pulled his other hand off her mouth. “Clean up your mess, baby,” he told her, nudging the fingers that were coated in her juices against her lips. 

Groaning low in her throat, Elide sucked his fingers into her mouth, her tongue sliding between them as she licked her fluids from them. It didn’t take her long to clean them entirely, but she continued to suck on his fingers anyway, enjoying the low moans she was pulling from his throat with every swipe of her tongue.

Eventually Lorcan pulled his digits from her mouth, burying his hand in her hair and turning her enough to seal his lips to hers in a searing kiss. She gasped into his mouth, moaning at the feeling of his tongue flicking against hers. 

When he pulled away, Elide was staring up at him with a blissed out look. Smirking down at her, he reached down to smack her ass once again. “How about I take you home and fuck you like I wanted to last night?”

Moving her hand between their bodies, she reached down to cup his cock through his jeans. “That sounds like the best idea you’ve had yet.”

.

@highqueenofelfhame @city-of-fae @musicmaam @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @tacmc @tangledraysofsunshine @lordof-bloodshed @how-to-be-a-bad-ass-be-me @nalgenewhore @bookrebelwordwarrior @sleeping-and-books @froggy-waddles @photofeesh @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @belamoonbeam @mis-lil-red @tardis-23 @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @nuclearplanets @pilesofriles @randomtogacotar22 @joyceortiz13 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @tswaney17 @booksandskates

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#stay close to me #sctm #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elorcan #throne of glass #tog #my writing

[65binary]

You want fic requests? I dare you to write the scenario I'm telling you about on Discord (this is totally not because I want to see your interpretation, nope not at all) ~Stormy

seasoned wtnv fans excuse the probably ooc bullshit I’m at ep 40 and don’t know Carlos that well. Here’s some drabble I finished impulsively, ft. Jake and Emmy, the placeholder ocs for Carlos’s team of scientists. 

“Hey Emmy?” Jake asked, fiddling around with field equipment. 

“Yeah?” The lab assistant called out. “Did Carlos restation us again or something?” Carlos had a tendency to reassign Emmy to different points around town often, without any concern for how she would get there or the mortal danger she would face along the way. 

“No, no. Nothing like that. Did you hear the radio today?” Over the past seven months, Jake and Emmy had found out that aside from Night Vale Community Radio, there was very little to do. But oh what a community radio station it was; Cecil, known as the Voice of Night Vale while he was on air, was entertaining to listen to on his own, but his massive crush on Carlos Almost every day, as soon as the team sent in their news, Cecil spent fifteen minutes fawning over Carlos’s annoying scientific phrasing, or daydreaming about his hair.

“So, he’s listened to it yet?” Emmy asked excitedly.

“No.” Jake hmmphed.  “But he needs to.”

***

“Why do I need to?” Carlos sighed. “Some of the tests we’re running are very sensitive, and if you want to prove that the house that doesn’t exist doesn’t exist we can’t have any interference.”

“But it gets boring at work!” Emmy complained, and Jake noticed the slightly strained tones of her voice. Emmy was a good actress, but Carlos was better at stoically shutting down any attempts to make work any less dull, and the two of them spent the next fifteen minutes trying to convince Carlos to finally listen before abandoning their futile attempt. Whatever. 

***

That lasted for three months now, Carlos thought as he came home for the night. Jake and Emmy had always been a little more lax about mingling with the test environment, but the real chip on their shoulder about listening to Night Vale Community Radio didn’t bode well. Well, Carlos didn’t need it in his life; he had his journals, the books he had brought, and at the end of the day listening to the overly cheerful banter of talk show hosts just made him annoyed. 

Still, none of that helped when the power went out due to something Carlos would no doubt have to investigate later, and the little portable radio on the counter of the apartment Carlos rented seemed to be staring right at him. Or maybe it actually was; you could never tell these things in Night Vale. 

Slowly, careful not to disturb the faceless old woman he was pretty sure was snoring, Cecil got up off his bed and walked over to the radio. It clicked on with a satisfying little noise, and Carlos started adjusting the knobs. 

After three stations of screaming and one of a little girl singing in an eldritch tongue that made Carlos’s head feel woozy, he finally reached the frequency for Night Vale Community Radio. 

“I am myself an aficionado of the theater, having once played the role of Pippin in a high school production. The musical being produced was actually South Pacific, but our director had a real flair for experimental theater, and felt the addition of characters from other famous plays would spice things up. He also hid dangerous traps all throughout the set in order to keep us on our toes. Oh, it was a wonderful couple of months, preparing for and performing in front of parents and friends, and those of us who were left at the end of it felt like we had truly been through something, something we would never forget, not even in the middle of the night, staring blankly into the darkness, sweaty, pallid, trembling...”

Carlos had to admit that he was a bit confused. This was what passed as normal in Night Vale, sure, but why were two of his team so insistent on Carlos listening in? Night Vale Community Radio had nothing in store for him. At least Cecil didn’t use the fake-smile, overly happy tones of most radio announcers, and instead sounded tired but… focused, somehow? After a few minutes, Carlos admitted that he liked the sound of Cecil’s voice filling up the room, monologuing equal parts the news script and whatever came to mind. 

Carlos took another look at the radio, and decided that he probably wouldn’t tell his team about it; after all, it wasn’t that big a deal.

[incorrectmidc]

A Love Like This

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. I hope everyone is doing fine despite this ongoing pandemic. I’m here to post an excerpt from a fic I was planning to do about Ikemen Sengoku’s Oda Nobunaga and my MC, Shimizu. I have the plot finished but never got to writing most of it. I’ve done random chapters lol and I DON’T KNOW IF I’VE POSTED THIS ONE HERE OR NOT. IF I DID, PLEASE DISREGARD THIS ONE. XD This is a reincarnation AU btw.

Title of the fic: A Thousand Years Chapter Title: A Love Like This Pairing: Oda Nobunaga x MC (Shimizu, in this case)

“Oh, you’re back,” Ieyasu said flatly when he saw Shimizu enter the office the next morning. She was carrying three thick folders, which piqued the curiousity of the platinum-haired male.

Shimizu frowned in confusion at Ieyasu’s words. “I work here…?” she said, though it came out as a question. And why is Ieyasu in the production department this early?

“I thought you would’ve called it quits and resign after that tantrum you threw yesterday,” Ieyasu said, not one to really filter his words. He didn’t even bat an eye when Shimizu glared at him.

“I didn’t throw a tantrum!” she exclaimed indignantly. If you’d ask her, what she did was reasonable. After all, someone needed to teach that high and mighty Oda Nobunaga how to be humble and how to respect people, especially those of lower status than him. “If you don’t have any business with me, Ieyasu, can you go lecture someone else please? I’m actually super busy today.”

Ieyasu’s curiousity returned when Shimizu began to flip open one of the folders. The plan to actually lecture her was forgotten when he asked, “What are those by the way?”

“The company’s history,” Shimizu replied as she scanned the first few pages, noting how old the company was. “Mitsunari lent it to me. If I’m going to work here, I need to know and understand the company fully to be able to produce the best designs.” And what’s the best way to do it than to have a history crash course, right?

“You’re surprisingly diligent,” Ieyasu commented, expecting to get another rise from Shimizu at his words. However, he got concerned when she didn’t respond to him. Instead, she was as pale as a sheet as she stared at something on the folder. “Shimizu?”

“Ieyasu,” her voice was a bit shaky when she called his name, which got Ieyasu more concerned. What’s the matter now? “W-What is this?” she asked as she showed him the thing she was staring at earlier,

The platinum-haired male’s brows furrowed when a familiar face greeted him the moment Shimizu handed him the folder. “This is the Oda Group’s lucky charm, Bearsace. It’s been with the Oda family since his great great grandfather’s time and has brought countless fortune to them so it’s a treasured possession. You didn’t know that?”

Ieyasu’s tone was mocking, trying to finally get a proper reaction out of Shimizu but the woman wasn’t listening anymore. The name “Bearsace” triggered something in her mind – a scene – something that she doesn’t know what to make of.

It was her, standing in front of a man dressed up in the full regalia of Japan’s ancient warrior garb. She watched as the faceless man searched her purse, finally pulling out a fluffy white teddy bear. “What is this?” he asked, deep voice achingly familiar that it sent shivers down her core.

“That’s Bearsace. It’s a teddy bear. I designed it.”

“A teddy bear?” the man repeated the words that seemed to be foreign to him. He continued to stare at the stuffed toy, one hand brushing on its ear while the other took hold of its paw, moving it up and down.

“—izu!”

“Shimizu!”

“Huh!” Shimizu gasped when she finally felt Ieyasu shaking her lightly. Looking up, she was met by worried green eyes. “What—”

“Shimizu? Why are you crying?” a familiar voice that wasn’t Ieyasu’s suddenly asked, effectively cutting Shimizu off. She then felt calloused hands cup her cheeks, making her look up at the newcomer. “What’s wrong?” Nobunaga asked the moment their gazes met. His brows were furrowed and he was gazing at her with eyes filled with worry and something else that she couldn’t give a name to.

Despite being rough, Nobunaga’s hands were gentle and warm, and it made her tingly all over. Her eyes then widened when his words finally registered in her mind. “I… I wasn’t crying!” she exclaimed as she pushed away from him. Hastily wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she threw Ieyasu a glare when she heard the latter snort. “A dirt just entered my eye.” Nobunaga was looking at her skeptically so she racked her brains for anything that would take his attention away from her sudden crying. She doesn’t think she could explain to him why she cried when she didn’t even know the reason in the first place.

And what the hell was that random scenario? Was it real or was it just a result of her watching too many historical dramas?

“I didn’t know your family’s lucky charm is a teddy bear, Nobunaga,” she said out of desperation. The room fell silent at that before Ieyasu coughed loudly.

“I remember I have to meet Masamune for coffee today,” the platinum-haired male said before he turned to leave. “I’ll see you later, Nobunaga.” Then with that, he hastily made his escape.

Traitor! Shimizu glared at the door Ieyasu just exited, silently cursing the other man for leaving her alone with Nobunaga. She knew, after the first time they’ve met, that she should never be left alone with Nobunaga for the man makes her feel all sorts of contradictory emotions and it’s driving her crazy. “So—”

“This was given to my great great grandfather by his first love.” Hearing Nobunaga talk about love with that gentle expression in his usually cold eyes was something Shimizu never thought she’d see. “Bearsace was made by her.”

“They didn’t end up together?” Shimizu found herself asking, her eyes never leaving Nobunaga’s handsome face. She was practically savouring the gentle look she was seeing right now, carving it to memory.

“No.” The gentle look was still there but there was now a hint of sadness on Nobunaga’s face. Shimizu felt something tug at her chest at the sight. “Things happened and they had to part.”

The two of them went silent after that. Shimizu stared at the picture of the teddy bear once again, feeling something familiar with the stuffed toy. “He must have loved her so much then.”

“Definitely,” Nobunaga’s tone was unmistakably serious when he answered. Shimizu looked up at him again and her heart skipped a beat when she saw that he was staring at her intensely with those beautiful reddish-brown eyes of his. “She was his greatest love, and he vowed that he would find her again, even if it takes him a thousand years or more.”

#Ikemen Sengoku #A Thousand Years #A Love Like This #Oda Nobunaga #fanfiction #reincarnation AU #excerpt

[camistired]

the peculiar one

chp. 3 // welcome to river-hell

not edited

january 23, 2019

word count: 3138

song: antidote by faith marie

one / two

-

I couldn't sleep. The feeling of dread washed over me, making my eyes stay stapled open as I lay on my back. The soft sound of the TV show I was watching on my phone bounced off the walls but never met my ears. All I could think of is what will happen in the few hour ahead.

I didn't hate school, surprisingly. I do excellent in my class besides the two I seemed to take a little longer to comprehend. It was the people at the school that made me feel this way. The whole group of people that I knew to be there, it all just seemed like a scene from 'Heather's' or 'Mean Girl's'.

Either way, I was not willing to be Cady or Veronica in this situation. I turn over to see my phone had turned off. I got out of bed and walk over to my bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet to grab my sleeping pills. I take one, seeing as I already took my dosage earlier and it was still not even working. I lay back down and eventually lost myself in a dream world. And a strange one at that.

I open my eyes to see myself in a basement of sorts. I gag as the smell of blood and rotten blood fill my nose. I look around to find an empty chair, ropes loosely hung around the back of it. I hear the faint sound of crying making me turn to see a woman with her head hung low.

When she looked up, her face was impossible to identify. It's as if the world scratched out her face to show absolute nothing. Her cries seemed to echo off the walls louder. Footsteps slowly made their way down, only to be met with another faceless person. It's as if the world didn't want me to see that these people were out there, somewhere, in the world.

The womans cries and got louder and louder, my ears ringing as it seemed to get to a pitch only a dog could here. Than it all just- stopped. The cries were gone, the scratches on their faces seemed to be changing hues every second, and the room slowly turned into nothingness.

My eyes pop open as I stare at my ceiling. The only words coming to mind were; what the fuck? Obviously sleep deprivation and my imagination are never a good mix for dreams. I look over at the clock on my wall to see it's only 6:17.

I groan inwardly and have up on sleep. What's the point? I'll have to get up in an hour anyways. I sit up and decide to rewatch 'The Breakfast Club'. It's genuinely one of my favorite movies from the eighties. Hell- one of my favorite movies in general.

I sat silently as I watch the opening as I relate to certain things and people. Obviously I relate myself more to Allison, being a bit of a basket case myself, but I can easily put myself in the others perspective. I also silently wish I could have a group of friends like theirs. Seemingly strangers with nothing in common, to all of a sudden be close to the hip and making jokes about each other's difference's. Who wouldn't want that?

I eventually get lost in the teen drama that I didn't even notice the sun rise or it being nearly an hour an twenty minutes later until my dad knocked on the door and peeked his head inside my room.y head popped up and I lock eyes with him, smiling softly. I pause movie as I focus on his words, unfortunately only catching the end of his sentence.

"- So with that being said, are you excited for your first day of high school?" he asked and all I can do is nod.

"Yea, I am. Who knows, maybe my nerves are just everywhere for nothing?" I try to be optimistic about today, but I'm just uneasy.

He smiles assuringly and giving me a thumbs up before turning out of the room and leaving, closing the door behind him. I quickly hop out of bed, and decide to pull on just some black jeans and a green t-shirt. I lace up my boots as another knock was heard, but this time by the window. Luna hissed from under my bed, making me chuckle.

I stood up and see Jughead by my window with a goofy smile on his face. I roll my eyes and open the window for him, "There's a front door you know."

"I know, but where's the fun in that?" He responds, climbing through my window with ease.

I roll my eyes, grabbing my glasses and sliding them on my face. "But if you use the front door, it doesn't look like I'm trying to sneak you into my room."

"You know a couple years ago you would have said something different." He chuckles at me as I stick my tongue out at him.

"That's then, this is now." I grab my backpack and pet Luna as she jumps on my bed.

Jughead went to do the same but instead he only got hissed at. He immediately retracts his hand and I laugh softly at the scene before me. "Don't take it personal, she doesn't like people."

"She likes you." he points out, heading towards the door. "I swear it's like somehow, someone was able to put your personality into a cat."

"Well I'd like to meet that person one day and thank them." I cut in front of him to head downstairs. I'm immediately hit with the smell of food. I sit my bag down at the leg of the dark wooden table. I grab a plate and grab a bit of everything that was available. I sit down at the table and start eating.

"You know not to expect this everyday, right?" Lila tease as she sits down across from me with her own plate of food. I nod to her as I continue to eat.

"Can I at least expect this every now and then?" Jug ask as he sat down next to me. His tone was teasing, but I knew he was almost completely serious.

"Sure Jug. Just let me know when you decided to move in with us and when you decided you get to choose what's for breakfast." Mar joined the teasing as she sat down next to Lila, who was stifling her laughter while also trying not to choke on her food.

"Okay, would you prefer a day or week's notice before I start to move in?" He asks his cousin after swallowing his food. I let out a small squeal while trying to stifle my laughter, only to cough as I choked on my food.

I heard a burst of laughter around me, only making me laugh more after I stopped coughing. After everything has calmed down, Jughead, Daniel, and I headed off to school. Daniel actually met up with a friend of his half way there, so now it was just me and Jug.

The silence between the two of us was a bit tense, but not knowing from what we didn't act on it. We slowly approached the school, the tension only seemed to be rising. Maybe I was the only one to truly acknowledge it causes when we walked through the doors of the school, he smiles as if nothing was wrong and offered to take me to the office to get my stuff.

I trailed slightly behind him as he lead the way to the office. The tension still there but than again it seems like I'm the only one to truly notice it.

Mabe it's just my nerves? That'd make sense, right?

I got my schedule and Jug offered to show me to my locker. I thought about this tour around Riverdale High, but I decided not to attend seeing if I needed directions, I'm sure Jug wouldn't mind showing me.

We had a few more minutes before class started so me and Juggie just stayed by our lockers – which were right across from each other's. We talked as if whatever I thought was wrong, wasn't wrong. It was if I imagined it all, and maybe I did. However, I felt much better now than I did walking to the school.

And before I knew it, class had started.

☾

I wasn't sure how I ended up where I did. I had lost Jughead a while ago, so now I'm sitting next to Archie with Daniel sitting behind me with his friends. Students were told to go to the gymnasium for something about a school dance that I honestly don't know of I cared about or not.

I look up front to see Cheryl standing at the podium, staring at the crowds of teens.

"Let's have a moment of silence for Jason." The room falls silent. I look up around, seeing if I can find Jughead, only to make eye contact with him as he shifts before looking back at his laptop.

"Thank you for that moment of silence. Many of you were lucky enough to have known my brother personally. Each and everyone of you meant the world to Jason. I loved my brother. He was and always will be my soulmate. So I speak with a confidence only a twin could have. Jason wouldn't want us to spend the year mourning." I make eye contact with Jug once more, after he finishes rolling his eyes.

"Jason would want us to move on with our lives. Which is why I've asked the School Board to not cancel the Back-to- School semiformal." The room erupts in cheers as I look over at Archie as he maked eye contact with a younger teacher.

"But rather, to let us use it as a way to heal, collectively, and celebrate my brother's too, too short life on this moral coral. Thank you all." Cheryl finishes as everyone seemed to clap. I watch as Cheryl walka away, letting everyone clean out the gymnasium before lunch started

☾

I sit under a tree at lunch time, surprisingly, not with Jughead. We got seperated as everyone was piling on top of each other to get out of the gym. I was looking down, drawing, as I heard someone approach me.

I slowly look up and my eyes meet with an unfamiliar brown pair.

"Hi. I'm Veronica Lodge. And who might you be?" She introduces herself, smiling brightly down at me.

"Uh.. Alexandria. Nelson." I reply, timidly. I knew who she was and who her parents were. It's probably weird that I know so many things about these teens parents, and they don't even know the half of it.

"That's a pretty name," Her smile never fell, in fact I'm pretty sure it grew when I hummed a small 'thank you', "You're welcome. Anyways, I saw you over here alone and wanted to invite you to come sit with me and my friends."

I look over at the table she was sitting at and see that Betty and Kevin staring over at us before I look up at her again.

I'm probably about to make a big mistake..

"Sure. Beats sitting here alone."

I gather my stuff and follow her back to the table with Betty and Kevin. I wave slightly as I sit down and take my sketchbook out again, and decide to continue some old family pictures.

There was an awkward silence, that I was blind to Betty and Kevin sat shifting from my presence at the table. Veronica glared at them as she probably thought that I didn't notice. However, I did notice but didn't show it.

Someone cleared their throat and I look up to see it was Veronica. I sit up straight and place my pencil on the table, turning slightly to look at her.

"So. I have a few questions. If you feel uncomfortable, you don't have to answer."

I nod slightly. She seems nice, nothing like her supposed manipulative father that I've heard about.

She smiles slightly and looks at my book, "So.. You're an artist?"

I nod once more,  "Yeah, I guess. Right now I'm just drawing an old picture of my mom bwck when she was in high school. It just helps keep my mind of things."

I slid my book towards her and show her the picture I'm recreating. I'm currently on the details, already having the main base line work done.

She nods  before grabbing the photo and analyze it, before putting it down and points at my mom, who was in the middle between my dad and Alice.

"Is that your mom?" She asks hesitantly. Noticing her being tence about asking the question, I just smile softly.

"Yeah.. That is."

"She's very beautiful."

"Thank you." I sigh slightly, "Her beauty ran throughout her. She was kind to everyone.. She thought everyone deserved a second chance.. Hell, push your luck, you may even got a third. She protected the ones she loves. Sometimes I don't even know how I could be someone better than her."

I shake my head as I stare at the picture. I feel tears welling up in my eyes as I stare at her. Ehat sucks is that she could be dead somewhere and we wouldn't even know. She's been gone for years, and no one knows what could have happened.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Veronica panicked as she saw the tears fall down my face.

I shrug it off, wiping the tears away, "You didn't do anything. You have no reason to apologize."

I take the picture from her and place it back in my sketchbook.

"Thanks for inviting me, Veronica.. But I think I've over stayed my welcome." I glance over to the two looking at me before I say my goodbyes and got up to go hide somewhere.

I walk into the building and I find yhe music room empty. I look around before walking inside, closing the door behind me. I place my stuff by the door – after I grab my notebook – and go over to the piano, running my fingers over the keys. I sit down on the bench, sitting my notebook out in front of me.

I slowly start to play the piano as everything slowly started to become natural again. I smile softly before closing my eyes as I let my hands run over the keys.

"Finding refuge in my own lies.. ‘How are you?’ ‘I'm doing alright’.. Small talk is a great disguise– just let me be, just let me be.." I sang softly as I played the notes on the piano, "Empty thoughts start cloud my mind.. Am I only living, living to survive? Shake it off, but I lost the drive– just let me be, just let me be.. Let me be o-kay.

"No knows what goes on up inside my head.. There's a new kind of poison and it's starting to spread. No knows what goes on up inside my head, they don't think I need help but I'm scaring myself.. I just want be okay.. I just want to be ok."

I lost myself in the song, I didn't even notice the door open to whomever noticed me singing.

"All the voices in my head are coming to life.. They're getting louder and I'm, I'm terrified..! How do you tunf tom your own mind? Is this what I've become? Take back, what have I.. done?"

I didn't even noticed that I've started crying until a tear fell on my hand. I pull my hands away from the keys to wipe my face, chuckling to myself. I let the room become quiet before clapping was heard from behind me. I instantly pop up, making the bench fall at my sudden movement, as I look into a familiar pair of bluish green eyes, making my releax a bit.

"How long have you been there?" I ask, immediately fixing the bench before grabbing notebook and shoving it back in my bag. Jughead smirked teasingly.

"I didn't know you could sing." He dodge the question, looking at me sling my bag over my shoulder.

"You didn't answer my question, Jones." I pressed as I look at my shoes timidly. Anything seemed more interesting than the teasing male in front of me.

"How have I known you for years, but never realise you could sing?" At this point, he seemed genuinely confused. He was no longer teasing, but seemed more disappointed in himself for reason.

"It's something I did to help calm my nerves for a short while. As well as playing the piano." He nods and wraps a arm around my shoulder, "Let's go get this day ocer with."

☾

"So, Pop's?" Juggy asks as we walk along the bleachers outside. It was after school hours, it was still open due to after school activities. We just decided to stick due to pure boredom.

"Jug, you practically live at Pop's. You can wait another thirty minutes." I tease him as he groans playfully, making me laugh softly.

"Hey, Alex!" I hear someone call. Me and Jug turn to see Ronnie waving her down, in her new Riverdale Vixens cheer outfit, next to Betty, who is also wearing her outfit.

"Ronnie. Hi! What's up?" I call back, using my hand to keep the sun out of my eyes.

"Are you coming to the semiformal?" She asks, curiously.

"I dunno! School dances aren't really my thing!" I reply, squinting my eyes as my hand doesn't do much protections for my eyes.

"What do you mean? From what I heard, you're last school dance was probably a school Christmas party!"

"She's got you there." Jughead mumbles in my ear, making me elbow him in the stomach. "Ow!"

"C'mon! You can even bring mister Jason Dean behind you!" She points over to the beanie clad boy behind me.

"I'll think about it! I'll let you know my answer later!"

She nods before walking away with Betty. I turn to continue walking with Jug.

"Another school dance. Maybe this one can make up for the Valentine's Day one." He jokes.

"Is it wrong I wanna go?" I whisper, hoping he wouldn't hear, but he's right next to me, so of course he does.

"No. It's not." He stops and turns to me, "Let's make a deal. If I go with you to the dance, we have to leave early and go to Pop's."

I nod, "I'm ok with that."

He smiles as I smile back. He wraps his arm around my shoulders as we walk towards the actual school building, going inside to end the school day.

#riverdale season one #riverdale #jughead jones x ofc #jughead jones #original female character #veronica lodge #betty cooper #kevin keller #cheryl blossom #angst #fluff #slow burn #mutual pining #archie andrews

[chiefnooniensingh]

I Won’t Hesitate (For You) Chapter 6

Chapter 6: I can’t breathe (until you’re resting here with me)

In this chapter: We get a peak at the night of the murder. In the present day, things kick into high gear and Alex faces a few of his own demons.

a/n: This is one of my absolute favourite chapters. I reread this so often after finishing it just because I love it so much. I hope you'll like it as much as me!

As always, a special thanks to Aileen (@acomebackstory), Callie (@callieramics), @hm-arn, @royalshadowhunter, @ladymajavader and May (@merlinss) over on Tumblr for their continued support and cheerleading. I don't know if I would've finished it without you guys!

The title of last chapter was Linger by The Cranberries, guessed by hmd23! Congratulations!

Can anyone guess this week's title and performing artist?

Also on: ao3

other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

20th of October, 1953, somewhere between 3am and 5am.

Alex eyes snapped open. His heart was beating faster than it should, and for a moment he didn’t understand why he’d woken up feeling startled. Then it came back to him.

He’d been sure he’d heard someone yell out. The sensation had permeated straight through his uneasy dreams and had startled him awake. He scrambled for his pocket watch. 4:31am. Why in the world would anyone yell out in the middle of the night?

Half-groggy, but on high alert, Alex stumbled out of bed, his bad leg protesting heavily to the sudden weight put on it. Limping heavily, he made his way to the door, opened it a crack and peaked out. The corridor was dark and empty, the long-since extinguished lamps swaying lightly with the train’s movements. The certainty that he’d heard someone in distress fading with every passing second, Alex looked up and down the carriage. He looked down the long end, just in time to see a small figure slip into cabin number 4.

Perhaps that was all he heard; someone visiting the bathroom.

Deciding that his traumatized brain made a case from something that wasn’t anything, Alex closed the door, crawled back in bed and soon went back to sleep.

Present day, 21st of October, 1935

“Alex! Come in!” Maria DeLuca had opened the cabin door at his knock and her worried frown quickly changed to a lovely smile as she realized who was at the door. “My mother is resting; it’s been a very tiring day.”

Alex stepped inside the cabin, and indeed saw Mrs DeLuca asleep in her bed. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Ms DeLuca,” Alex said in a soft voice, as he took a seat next to the window. Maria took the seat next to him. “But I have some questions that I need answered.”

“Of course,” Maria said with a kind smile, “ask away.”

“Do you and your mother have identification on you?”

“Naturally.” Maria rummaged underneath her mother’s bed for a while, and produced two sets of identification papers, which he handed to Alex.

Alex copied all of it down in his notebook. “Maria DeLuca, 22 years of age, resident of New Orleans. Occupation…singer?”

“Quite famous, too! I’ve even got a record deal coming up! People line up for blocks to hear me sing every Mardi Gras.”

Alex nodded, slightly impressed. He resolved to look up some of her music upon returning to America. “Your mother’s name…Margaret DeLuca, resident of New Orleans, retired.” Maria nodded as she took the papers from him.

“I’ve seen her looking varying degrees of ill. Is there something wrong with her?”

Maria’s smile vanished abruptly. “We…we don’t know. She’s starting to lose bits of memories. Some days she’s as sharp as she used to be, then the next she’s convinced Rosa Ortecho is standing next to her, having entire conversations with her.”

“Your mother knew Rosa Ortecho?”

Maria nodded, tears filling her eyes. “The poor girl. My mom was the Ortecho’s house maid until a few weeks before the kidnap. My dad had gotten very sick and we had to move closer to a hospital that could help him, you see. When my mother read of the case, weeks after her body had already been discovered, something broke in her. She was still my loving mom, and she took good care of me even after my father died, but there was always a kind of sadness surrounding her.”

Motive, Alex wrote down, but in his mind, he doubted it. Mimi DeLuca was barely strong enough to lift a hand of cards, let alone plunge a knife into a man’s chest. Still, it was pertinent information. “How is it that you came to be on this exact train, the same train that the murderer was on?”

Maria looked desperately upset. “I don’t know! I’ve been trying to figure it out myself. The only logical answer is some cruel twist of fate!”

“And you don’t think you or your mother…?”

Maria’s dark eyes suddenly flashed angrily, and Alex saw, for the first time, that he was better off not underestimating this woman. “Are you suggesting I or my mother had anything to do with this horrid business? Because my mother is sick enough as it is, and planning a murder is certainly not on the top of our priority list!”

“Of course. I’m sorry I asked.” Maria kept her eyes narrowed at him for a while, and Alex felt another possibility for friendship slip away from him. But he wasn’t here to make friends, he reminded himself. He had to solve a murder. Whatever it took. “Where were you around 3AM, miss DeLuca?”

“Asleep. My mother woke at around 4 to request a glass of water from the conductor. I woke up briefly because of the scuffle, then fell asleep again. We did not hear about the murder until we arrived at the scene after everyone was already awake. I did not commit this murder, Mr Manes,” Maria said fiercely, “and neither did my mother. Frankly, I’m insulted you find us capable.”

Alex rose to his feet, having gathered all he needed right now and cast Maria a sad look. “Ma’am, in my line of business, I’ve learned that everyone is capable with enough motivation.”

With that, he left.

En route back to his own cabin, with every intention of having a lie down for a while, to really mull this case over, he ran straight into Michael. “Hey, you okay?” Michael asked once more, looking concerned this time.

I swear, Alex thought privately, this man is going to give me a whiplash. “This case is giving me a headache,” he said, instead.

“Can I help?”

“That’s very kind of you, Michael, but I – ” He was cut off by a sudden loud squealing sound, a violent lurch as the train suddenly braked hard and another crash as it came to a sudden stop. Alex, already very unsteady on his feet, fell right into Michael when the train started to brake, and the force of the crash caused them both to tumble to the floor. The noise was deafening, and instinctively, Alex buried his face in Michael’s chest and covered his ears. It was excruciating to listen to the screaming of the breaks, the thudding of luggage falling over all up and down the train and then the frightened yells and screams of the passengers.

And suddenly he was on the battlefield again. The air smelled of gunpowder, blood and death and everywhere around him, his brothers were dying. Alex was barely 20 years old and not in any way, shape or form prepared for the violence that was an actual war. Clinging tightly to his weapon, he waited till he heard the enemy’s fire subside, then emerged out of the trench and fired at his faceless foe. The more people died around him, the more he realized how futile it was. How many men had laid down their lives for the simple fact that the US government wanted control over Nicaraguan waters? But it was too late to turn back now. If he stopped shooting, he would die. And he did not want to die. He came up from the trench once more but had miscalculated. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, his knee in tatters and every nerve aflame. Michael’s face floated in front of him as he screamed in agony. “Alex,” he said softly. Alex smiled and reached out. “Alex. Alex!”

“Alex!” he heard Michael yell, and he felt two warm hands grab his face and pull him up. Alex gasped for breath as if he had been drowning and the reality of today came back to him in an instant. He wasn’t at war. He was on the Orient Express, which had apparently just crashed, and he was in Michael’s arms once more. Though nothing romantic was about to happen, for Michael was looking at him in alarm, scanning his face for injuries. Alex automatically did the same. Other than being severely startled, having had a pretty serious flashback, and having developed an even worse twinge in his leg, Alex didn’t think he was injured. Michael looked shaken, but otherwise unhurt as well. “You okay, love?” Michael asked softly, running his thumbs down Alex’s cheeks. Alex nodded.

“What the hell was that?” he said, his voice extremely shaky.

“I think we crashed. Come on, let’s get you up.” Michael helped Alex to his feet slowly, and when Alex put weight on his leg, it hurt less than he had expected. Thank goodness.

People were coming out of their cabins, looking ruffled and wide-eyed and some of them spotting some minor bruises or a split lip. Everyone seemed unharmed otherwise.

Michael looked at Alex again. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex murmured, who still felt pretty shaken up, “I just…had a flashback.”

Michael’s eyes flashed with understanding, and without hesitation, he dropped the tiniest of kisses on Alex forehead. Just a brush of the lips, but Alex felt it and a warmth surged through him. “After this is over, we’re going to have to catch up,” Michael said with a half-smile. Alex nodded in agreement, not voicing his very real fear of having to put Michael in jail.

Jesse Manes came bursting in through the door, looking quite the worse for wear, his mouth bleeding profusely. It looked as if he had slammed his face into something as the train crashed. “Is everyone alright?” he asked to the crowd in general, and, not waiting for an answer, he continued, “I need Dr Vale!”

Kyle came hurrying forward with his med kit, looking harassed. Behind him, Ms Beth’s arm was in a bandage. Raising an eyebrow at Director Manes’ less than impressive visage, he opened his case and rummaged in it. “Hurry up, won’t you?” Director Manes snapped, obviously forgetting he was not in the army anymore.

“Dad!” Alex said loudly, as Kyle stopped what he was doing and looked up slowly.

“Excuse me?” Kyle said softly.

Jesse Manes stilled, only now realizing his mistake. “Oh, I am so terribly – ”

“Mr Manes, you might be the Compagnie director, but these people are your passengers, who have paid for your services and your hospitality. Now I understand this day has been stressful, but I will not permit anyone to speak to me in that tone. If I hear you speak to me or any of the people on this train in that way again, I can guarantee you will never find work this side of the pond again. Do I make myself clear?”

Alex’s mouth dropped open, and he felt Michael’s shoulders shaking with barely controlled laughter even as he was still supporting Alex. There was a very tense silence, in which Alex watched his father go through several emotions including ‘murderous’ before landing on forced remorse. “Of course, Dr Vale. I forgot myself, my apologies. It’s been stressful, as you said. If you would be so kind, would you mind helping me stem the bleeding?” He was still bleeding rather profusely, and with the public dressing down he’d just received, he made a very pathetic sight indeed.

“That was the best thing I have ever seen in my entire life,” said Alex in a low voice and Michael snorted.

“Karma is a bitch,” Michael muttered, causing Alex to cough out a laugh. He looked at Michael, those piercing brown eyes filled with mirth, and felt his heart skip a beat. The man was still holding him upright, even though Alex was sure his leg was able to support his weight.

Just like 10 years ago, Michael was there to catch him if he fell. It had taken them a shockingly small amount of time to fall back in sync with each other. Alex opened his mouth, unsure what he was going to say but wanting to talk, to touch, to really reconnect with Michael…but suddenly the outer door burst open and Beth screamed. Cold air blasted into the train, snowflakes bursting in from the cold and a large shadow exited the train into the snowy wild.

Without thinking, Alex took off.

“Alex, no!” he heard Michael yell from behind him, but Alex scarcely heard him. He was only vaguely aware of his leg protesting to this sudden sprint so soon after having taken the brunt of a very violent fall, but Alex had only one thought. Someone was running. The murderer was trying to escape.

It was freezing cold outside. Alex spared a glance to the front of the train, and his heart sank. They’d been about to pass through the Simplon Pass, but an avalanche had blocked the entrance; the Orient Express had rammed straight into the thickly packed snow.

They were stuck.

Alex’s gaze snapped around to the back of the train, where the escapee was still running. They were clothed in a big coat, making it hard to make out who this was. Alex tore after them, just as Michael jumped out to keep everyone else in. “Alex, be careful!” he yelled.

Alex called upon all the speed he’d built up in the army and sped up. No matter why this person was running, Alex couldn’t let them get away. “Stop!” he yelled, but it was useless. The wind was whistling around them both, and he only barely heard himself.

His knee protesting violently, Alex gave it everything he had and saw the distance between him and the escapee closing. The snowy landscape was hard to traverse, and they could barely see five feet in front of them, but Alex noticed the distinct change in landscape a few feet to the right; a ravine. And the other person was drawing very close to edge, Alex could already see snow beginning to crumble underneath their feet. “Careful!” he yelled. The other heard him, looked around, and lost their footing. “NO!” Without hesitation, Alex leaped for the person and pushed him away from the edge. The man – for Alex’d seen the glimpse of a beard – fell backwards, safely away from the edge, but Alex was less lucky. The snow was slipping underneath him, carrying him ever so slowly towards the edge. Oh, for the love of… He felt one foot already passing over the edge, and panic leapt into his throat. I don’t want to die, Alex thought frantically, as Michael’s face flashed before him, and he tried to scramble back up the slight slope.

“Mr Manes!” he heard, and the man jumped forward, trying to catch his hand. Their fingers touched, slipped and Alex began to slide in earnest.

“NO!” Alex was surprised that the yell hadn’t come from his own throat, but behind the man appeared Michael, like a god damn angel send from heaven. “Alex!” Michael lunged and grabbed Alex’s hand, just as Alex tipped over the edge. They both yelled in fear, but Alex felt a yank on his arm. Michael had gotten hold of him and had stayed his death a little longer. Not that it helped. Alex felt himself slowly falling again, and he saw the snow underneath Michael shifting again. Michael was slipping as well.

I’m gonna die, Alex realized. And he was taking Michael with him.

“Let go, Michael!” he yelled in a panic.

“No!” Michael looked panicked himself, but his grip remained firm as he tried to find footing. “And don’t you dare let go, Alexander Manes!” Then he directed himself to the guy behind him. “Grab my god damn legs!” he bellowed.

Alex couldn’t see what was happening. He stared up in Michael’s eyes, sure that if he was going to die, those were the last thing he ever wanted to see. “Michael,” he said softly, as he felt no change in his slow descent, “Michael, please.”

“NO!” Michael yelled, his voice cracking. “I’m not letting you go again, Alex! I don’t look away!”

“Michael, please!” Alex said, tears threatening in the corner of his eyes. “Please, don’t do this!”

Michael’s eyes were blazing with fury. “If you go, I’m going with you!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic, you two!” a third voice added, and Isobel Bracken-Evans’s face appeared over the edge. “We got you, we’re pulling you up!”

And miraculously, even as Alex hardly dared to believe it, they suddenly began to rise, Michael disappearing back over the edge, but never letting go of Alex’s hand. Alex’s free hand grabbed the edge when he could reach it and two pairs of hands appeared to grab hold of his arm.

Isobel and Kyle were there, pulling him up, while Mr Otto was pulling on Michael’s legs.

His heart pounding, Alex was pulled back on solid ground, away from the edge. When finally, finally, they were safely away, he collapsed, gasping with adrenaline, against Michael, who caught him and wrapped his arms tightly around him. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” Michael muttered against Alex’s temple.

Alex could only clutch to Michael’s jacket tightly, pressing his face in his chest as he tried to stave of the beginnings of a panic attack. All the horrible things that could’ve happened were flashing before his eyes. His own bloody, mangled body two hundred feet below on the snowy plains. Michael’s broken, lifeless body next to him.

“Michael, are you okay?” Alex barely registered Isobel’s soft voice as he inhaled Michael’s scent in an attempt to calm himself.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Other footsteps. Several shocked voices as they took in the scene before them. Alex aware that he and Michael were being far too affectionate around a far too unfamiliar crowd. But he didn’t have the strength to push away and stand up. He’d been at death’s doorstep. And he would’ve never gotten a chance to tell Michael all he wanted to – to make up, to apologize. Ten years, wasted, because they’d been so scared and cowardly.

“Michael.”

“I got you, private,” Michael whispers softly, his hands stroking Alex’s back. “You’re safe, you’re alive, I got you.”

“You really wouldn’t have let me go?” Alex finally gasped out, looking up at him. The world was slowly coming back into focus, and Michael was at its centre.

Michael smiled and the last bit of panic faded from Alex’s system. “I never look away, Alex. I told you before. I just found you again. I’ll never let you go again. And if that means following you over the edge of a damn cliff, so be it.”

“Jesus, Michael.”

“What the hell happened?!” Another voice joined the murmurs and Alex and Michael both looked up, the spell between them broken. The world was freezing again and he was alive and there was still a murderer in their midst and his father just appeared, looking disgustedly down at Alex and Michael. Alex could only imagine that he looked like his father’s worst nightmare; broken, teary-eyed, in the arms of another man. If only Alex could bring himself to give a fuck.

“Alex almost went over the edge,” Isobel said, stepping in front of Michael and Alex with her hands on her hips. “Michael saved him. They’re catching their breath.”

Jesse Manes blinked in surprise. “Did they at least catch the person who ran?”

The silence became rather frosty, a very impressive feat seeing as it was snowing. “Yes,” another voice said, “they did.” Everyone turned around. Arthur Otto stood next to his daughter, who was holding his arm and looking extremely stern. “Why did you run, papi?”

Jesse Manes didn’t wait for an answer. “Only a guilty man runs! I always knew to never trust your kind and I was right! I’m going to make sure you never see the sun again, you murderous spic!”

Alex was on his feet at once. The exhaustion, the pain in his knee, all but forgotten. “Shut up!” he yelled. Jesse became very still, a stance Alex still recognized as a first sign of trouble. “You are not in charge of this investigation, Mr Manes! I am, and you will not threaten anyone on this train while I am in charge, or you will be very sorry indeed!”

“How dare you speak to me in that tone?!” screamed Jesse Manes, getting into Alex’s face, any sense of where he was and who was surrounding him forgotten. Alex didn’t back down. “I am still your father, you ungrateful, arrogant piece of shit, and I will have respect!”

“Respect is earned, and you have done nothing in my entire life to earn it!” Alex yelled back.

“You have never done anything to warrant giving you respect!”

Dr Kyle stepped forward, looking extremely angry. “Your son is a decorated war hero!”

Jesse Manes didn’t even seem to hear him, he just raged on, with the air of a man who was finally letting out what he’d been holding back for years. “You didn’t even have the decency to be normal, you had to be a fucking faggot to boot! You are disappointing, disgusting, despicable – ”

It happened in a flash. Alex was pulling back his fist to plant it firmly in the face of the man who called himself his father, but Michael had beat him to the punch – literally. Alex hadn’t realized how strong Michael had become in the ten years since he last saw them, but Jesse Manes went down with a single blow. Alex was convinced he saw a tooth flying. “You can no longer speak to Alex that way, not as long as I have anything to say about it!”

Jesse Manes looked shocked at this turn of events. He was cradling his jaw and Alex was looking forward to seeing a bruise form there in the next few days. He looked up at Michael, his eyes flashing with the same hate he always reserved for Alex. “My, my, you’ve finally learned to throw a punch. Lucky for you I didn’t get your good hand last time, huh?” His eyes flicked down to Michael’s left hand and Alex saw it spasm violently.

“You’re a fucking child,” Michael spat, his voice dripping with disgust and hatred. “You think respect and control come from violence. Yet these people, the people Alex is investigating for murder, respect him more than they do you. You are nothing. You have always been nothing. The only difference was that you were stronger than either one of us. That has changed. Touch either one of us again, and you will be very sorry indeed.” He stepped forward, his fist raised, and Jesse Manes flinched violently.

“Michael!” Max Evans stepped forward, looking stricken. “Enough, man. He’s got the point, I think.”

To Alex’s surprise, Michael dropped his fist, his fingers unclenching, a sharp breath exploding from him. Then he turned to Alex. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, then immediately felt his knee give out. “On second thought, not so much.” He buckled and Michael caught him effortlessly. “Alright, now that that’s dealt with,” Alex said, casting a disdainful look at his father, still bleeding on the ground. “Mr Otto, I would like an explanation, if you please.”

Mr Otto looked extremely white from all the excitements, and his daughter nudged him hard in the ribs to get his attention. “Oh! Ah. Yes. Of course.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, when the train crashed, I knew it was my only chance to get away…”

“Aha! See, escaping the scene of the crime…!” Jesse Manes began.

“I swear to God, one more word out of you…” Michael snapped, who did not finish his sentence, but Director Manes got the point. He lapsed into grudging silence.

“Yes, to get away. But not to flee the scene of this crime.” He looked at Alex intently. “I did not murder that man, Mr Manes. But I overheard your father talking to one of the other staff one day…said he could only suspect me, as I am the only person who could’ve done it; the DeLuca women and Beth being too weak, and Dr Kyle having taken an oath. I ran because I knew if it was up to Jesse Manes, I would be convicted on the word of a racist white man. And I’d rather live out here in the middle of nowhere than go to prison as a Latino man.”

Alex sent his father an absolutely hateful look, but his father seemed unremorseful in his racism. Alex could murder him. “Alright, everybody inside, to the dining carriage. It’s getting too cold out here. Dr Kyle, if you would escort Mr Otto.”

Everyone started towards the train, leaving Manes in the snow. Michael supported Alex all the way, and Alex was glad off it. His leg was aching worse than ever, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to put his weight on it for a day or so. Michael carried him singlehandedly up the stairs and into the carriage, and they laughed about it for a moment, before continuing to the dining carriage, where it was, mercifully, warmer.

Beth was standing next to her father, her arms crossed, looking extremely cross with her father. “Alex!” she said, when she saw him, waving him over. He and Michael made their way to their table. “I want to apologize for my dad. He shouldn’t have run. He panicked, thinking Jesse Manes had maybe called in the cavalry to arrest him.” Next to her, her father nodded.

Alex sighed. “Look, I get it. My father is…yeah. But I have to consider all the facts…”

“Mr Manes, I swear my father couldn’t have done it. I was with him all night – ”

“Beth – ” Max Evans tried to step in, but Beth continued, without missing a beat.

“– after I came back from Max Evans’ – ” Alex registered Max relaxing slightly, “ – I was reading some medical journals for most of the night and checked on my father periodically because he has heart issues, and my father was asleep until we were awoken by Isobel, I swear!”

Alex glanced from her to Max for a second and saw their eyes jump to each other for a fraction of a second. Something was going on between the two of them, but Alex couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Beth’s story only barely held up under the lightest scrutiny. But even if she wasn’t telling the truth about seeing her father, at least her and Max’ story seemed to match up. And that covered her for the murder. His head was aching. He pinched the bridge of his nose and lights swam behind his eyelids. That couldn’t be good.

“Alex?” he heard Michael whisper.

“Mm,” Alex merely muttered. “Alright. Well, it seems that we are stuck here for a while. Nobody leaves this train without my supervision, is that clear?” Everybody nodded mutely. “Michael, can I have your master keys?”

“What, why?” Michael asked, looking startled.

“Because I’m the only one not a suspect in this case so I need those keys somewhere I can keep an eye on them, please, Michael.” He didn’t mean to sound desperate, but his vision was getting blurry, his head throbbing more and more by the second. He had to lie down, and soon.

“Alright,” Michael acquiesced, looking startled and handing over the keys. Alex limped towards the outer door, locked it, and put the keys in his pocket.

“Go to your cabins, everyone. I need to rest, and we’re not going anywhere for a while.”

People moved past him, murmuring and shooting him concerned glances. Michael stayed close to Alex, looking concerned. “Michael, can I speak to you for a moment?” Alex managed to say through gritted teeth. Without waiting for an answer, he limped towards his cabin and entered it, Michael following close behind.

“What is it – ?” Michael began, but it became very clear what. Alex nearly collapsed and it was all Michael could do but to catch him. “Wow! Alright, I got you, private, I got you.”

“Can you help me?” Alex asked, his voice weak and trembling. “I don’t – I don’t think I can – u-undress mys-self.”

“Of course, Alex. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

He helped Alex to his bed, set him down and started undoing the laces to his shoes. Alex slumped against the back wall, his eyes closed. Michael’s hands were gentle as he helped Alex out of his shoes, his socks, his pants and shirt. At any other time, the atmosphere between them would be charged, but Alex was near in a coma and Michael understood exactly what Alex needed. He helped him into his pyjamas. His soft touches lulled Alex into something resembling sleep and he felt warm and safe for the first time in a while.

“Alex,” he whispered, and Alex forced his eyes to open a fraction. “Lay down, love.”

With gentle pressure from Michael, Alex managed to swing his legs onto his bed and rest his head on his pillow. A very ungentlemanly groan passed his lips as his entire body began to ache into the mattress. Suddenly, Michael’s hands were on his bad leg, rubbing it softly, warming the aching muscles in his calf and knee. Alex hummed appreciatively and closed his eyes again. He slowly felt his body relaxing into Michael’s touches. His body was exhausted, the adrenaline from nearly dying finally wearing off and he was sure he was asleep. That is, until he felt Michael’s hands leave his leg and his lips against his forehead. “Sleep tight, Alex.”

Alex’s hand shot out, grabbing Michael’s arm as he made to leave. “Please don’t leave,” he muttered. His eyes opened slightly, looking up at Michael through his eyelashes. Michael’s face was soft, and a small smile played around his lips.

“Alright, Alex.” Michael shed most of his uniform, leaving him only in his boxers. Then he climbed into bed, settling himself behind Alex and slinging an arm over him. Alex’s eyes closed again, and he burrowed himself against Michael’s chest. Michael’s arm tightened around him, pressing a kiss to the back of Alex’s head. “Go to sleep, Alex. I’m here.”

Alex dropped to sleep faster than he ever had before.

#malex #malex ff #malex fanfic #rnm ff #roswell new mexico #Alex Manes #Michael Guerin #a disaster bi and a chaotic gay #what could go wrong #otp:I Don't Look Away #motoe au #my malex ff #only got 2 comments on my last chapter and i didn't write this to make anyone happy but also #i love comments

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

I wasn’t gonna just find out about Cecil’s engagement ring and not do anything with that information.

Here’s the post if anyone’s not sure what I’m talking about. Fanfic under the cut. 

Carlos isn’t sure what engagement customs are like in Night Vale, so he asks Janice on one of the weekends while she’s over at their house. 

“Oh, it’s just like everywhere else, I think, just a ring, and you go down on one knee, and - OH MY GOD UNCLE CARLOS ARE YOU GOING TO PROPOSE TO UNCLE CECIL?”

“Shh!” Carlos exclaims, glancing back through the screen door from the porch. Cecil is in the kitchen, making dinner, with his cat-ear headphones on; judging from how he’s dancing, his music is probably turned up too loud to hear. He’s so cute. 

“Sorry!” Janice leans closer, conspiratorially. Her eyes glitter. “But wait, are you? Are you going to propose to Uncle Cecil?!”

“Yes.”

Janice shrieks, wheels her chair forward to where he’s sitting, and throws her arms around his waist. “Oh my god! Oh my god, Uncle Carlos!!!! I’m so excited! Have you bought a ring yet? Have you decided when you’re gonna ask him?”

“Not yet.” Carlos glances back into the house. Cecil is spinning around to whatever music it is he’s got on; his pink fishnet skirt swishes over distressed neon yellow tights. When he sees Carlos he grins and then goes back to dancing. “I want everything to be perfect, you know? And I know, scientifically speaking, nothing can ever be perfect, because life has so many variables, and so by that logic no engagement ring can be perfect, because engagement rings are made out of metal and minerals and honestly? Minerals are very unpredictable, as elements go. But I would like it to be almost perfect.” 

Janice nods understandingly. “Well, maybe I could help you. He’s covering the morning show tomorrow, right? We can tell him you’re taking the day off work to bring me to the mall. We can say I need new sports gear” 

“You didn’t mention that you wanted new sports gear.”

“No, I’m sorry. That would be our ruse. We’d really be going to buy a ring.” 

“Oh!” Carlos nods. “Yes, okay, that makes sense.” 

And they do their niece/uncle secret handshake, the one they’ve been perfecting for months now, even though, scientifically speaking, nothing can ever be perfect. 

The Night Vale Mall has three fine jewelry shops: Jared’s, Kay’s, and Renaldo’s. The owner of Jared’s, who is named Yuzuki, shows them fifteen different rings, but Janice shakes her head at all of them. “These are too plain,” she says as she wheels aggressively through the aisles of display cases. “Uncle Cecil is not plain.” 

“He’s really not,” Carlos agrees. Just this morning Cecil left for work in a black jumpsuit, white pinstripe pattern belt, and matching green beret and combat boots, with rainbow lipstick. “This is fashion, honey,” he’d said. 

The owner of Kay’s, who is named Paul, offers Janice and Carlos a suspicious looking red drink from a vial. It turns out that the Kay’s had been renovated so that it was now a meeting place for a new blood cult. 

They finally find a ring at Renaldo’s, where the owner, Katherine, suggests a specialty cut diamond shaped like a beaker. “Because that’s your thing, right?” they smiles. “You’re a scientist? I listen to your boyfriend’s show every day. This one is somewhat expensive, though.” 

“That’s okay,” says Carlos. 

“Money is no object,” adds Janice. 

“Well, technically, money is an object, because in its physical form money is formed out of matter, and matter is -”

“Do you want to add engraving, Uncle Carlos?” Janice suggests, throwing him off of his scientific explanation. He decided that yes, he did want engraving. 

Katherine designs a prototype on their computer and shows it to the two, saying that the ring would be ready to pick up in two weeks. Carlos watches nervously as Janice snaps a picture. “Doesn’t Cecil follow your Instagram?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m posting this on my Finsta.”

“Your what?”

“My Finsta. You know, you have your Rinsta, which is your normal account, and then you have your Finsta, which is your more secret one for friends, and then you have your Ginsta, where you post visual sacrifices to the various gods.” 

“Oh.” He’s still not sure, but she assures him that Cecil won’t see the picture. She captions it, “Took my uncle shopping”, with the wedding ring emoji, the winky face emoji, and then the radio star emoji, which is a gravestone that reads “killed by video”. 

Cecil may not have seen the picture, but by the end of the week it seems like everyone else in town has. When he buys coffee in the morning, the barista winks and asks, “Sooo, any updates yet?” and pumps her eyebrows in rhythm with pumping syrup into his latte. When they go for walks, he notices people concealed in the bushes with binoculars looking at Cecil’s left hand. In the middle of the night when he gets up to go to the bathroom, there’s a note taped to the front of his shower curtain written in blood that reads, “Hey, if you’re looking for a romantic place to propose, I’ll give you a 15% discount. -Gino.” 

As always, though, Cecil seems totally oblivious. “Hey, look at that!” he says, pointing to the sky where a secret police plane has written, “PROPOSE TO HIM ALREADY”. “Sheriff Sam is trying to help someone propose! Aw, that’s so sweet. Sam always has our town’s best interests at heart, huh?”

“They sure do,” says Carlos, sweating.

The town continues to drop hints - dropping them on his front lawn, out of the sky when he goes outside, and one day one falls from the ceiling and lands on his head while he’s braiding his hair. “I get it, Faceless Old Woman,” Carlos grumbles. “The ring hasn’t come in yet.” 

“I am eager to attend your wedding,” hisses a voice from the shadows. “I will steal an exceptional bottle of wine for you as a gift.” 

Finally, finally, he gets a text that the ring has come in to Renaldo’s for him to pick up. He’s not quite sure how he’s going to propose, but he thinks that once he has the ring, some inspiration might strike him. 

Cecil’s show starts at four o’clock. He’s anxious about the broadcast today, since developments with the most recent town-threatening entity have been escalating. “It’s important that I update the town,” he says. 

“It’s also important that you keep yourself safe,” Carlos tells him as he fixes the crooked bow tie around Cecil’s neck. It has a pattern of slices of pizza dancing with french fries. “I want you home tonight. Please don’t get hurt.” 

“I’ll be careful, bunny. I always am.” 

You never are, Carlos thinks, but he just says, “Okay, babe. I love you.” He kisses Cecil’s forehead. 

He drives over to pick up the ring. It comes in a little velvet box that fits perfectly into the pocket of his labcoat. He chooses purple for the box color - it’s Cecil’s favorite. The ring looks even better in person than it did on the model, with the fractal diamonds glinting in light. He admires it for a moment before snapping the box shut and sliding it into his pocket. “It’s perfect,” he tells Katharine. “Thanks so much.”

“Best of luck!” they exclaim. 

He doesn’t think he’s going to propose tonight, but just in case, he goes home early and makes a nice dinner. Time passes as time always passes in Night Vale - slowly and quickly and strangely. He finishes dinner, but since he’s not sure when Cecil’s going to be home, he turns on the radio to see where he is in the broadcast. 

There’s nothing. Just static. 

Panic wells in his throat. He rushes to the counter and yanks his phone off the charger, goes to his contacts list with trembling fingers. Cecil’s number goes straight to voicemail. He tries the radio station’s phone number, and that goes through, but all he hears on the other side are dull crashes and distant roaring. 

“Cecil? Cecil, are you there? Cecil!”

Nothing.

He’s shaking now, trembling from head to foot, and he knows he can’t drive in this state, but he’s rushing to the door anyway, grabbing his labcoat off the back of the chair. Cecil has to be okay, he has to be, he -

The door flies open from the other side and Cecil stumbles in. He’s covered in dust, his bowtie is askew, and there’s a reddish-brown stain along his bare side under his crop top. Which is soaked in that same color. 

“Sweetie!” Carlos shrieks. He grabs Cecil in his arms fretting over the injury. “How are you hurt? Oh no, where did I put the rubbing alcohol? Are you hurt somewhere else?” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Cecil catches Carlos’s face. “Honey. Carlos. Breathe, you’re hyperventilating.” 

“I was - I was so worried about you -” Carlos sobs and hugs Cecil tight. “Fuck, Cece, don’t ever do that again!”

“I’m sorry!” Cecil hugs him back. “This isn’t blood. We had a false alarm on that recent threat and Station Management came out of their office. I spilled my strawberry-banana-spinach-passionfruit-cherry smoothie in fear, though.” 

“Oh my god.” Carlos buries his face in Cecil’s neck. “What would I do without you?” Many people, in this case, would say “What am I going to do with you?” and say this in a subtle way of not communicating what they are actually trying to communicate - which is that they do not want to be without the other person. Carlos doesn’t like indirect communication, so he says, “What would I do without you?” 

“Well, you’ll never have to be without me! Oh, and Carlos?” Cecil pulls back from the hug a little. “Do you think we can get the smoothie out of my crop top?” 

Carlos laughs. A small sob comes out, too, one that was in the back of his throat. “Yes, baby, I think we can get the smoothie out of your crop top.” 

Those first few words stick in his head, though. You’ll never have to be without me. 

He can feel the weight of engagement ring in his pocket. He thinks he might be taking it out of that pocket soon. 

#i've wanted to write a fic about carlos's proposal for SO LONG #i really hope you liked it #welcome to night vale #carlos the scientist #cecil palmer #cecilos #janice palmer #podcasts #fanfiction