#it's kind of a celebration before the carnival too and it kind of signals the end of winter and the coming of spring

[wingsofhcpe]

unironically love stepping out into the balcony on Tsiknopempti and just sniffing the air like a curious cat to take in the ✨️tsikna✨️

#explanation for my non greek pals: tsiknopempti comes from combining the words tsikna + pempti #pempti means Thursday and tsikna means the smoke & scent coming off of well-grilled meat. There's no single word for it in english iirc #so tsiknopempti is the last day when we can eat meat before lent starts (greek orthodox christian tradition) #(tho idk if other orthodox cultures have a similar thing.) #so we grill a lot of different kinds of meat to 'indulge in before lent' even if the average citizen only actually practices lent the week- #-before easter lol (me included oops) #it's kind of a celebration before the carnival too and it kind of signals the end of winter and the coming of spring #it's also kind ot a joke because unironically the entire city air gets a hit hazy bc of all the grill smoke. esp towards sundown #unironically EVERYWHERE smells like it lmao #although most of us in the city just order souvlaki & stuff from souvlaki restaurants instead of grilling #BUT my mum is grilling tonight ehe. #greek stuff

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Seven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so this chapter doesn't exactly have a hay bale maze but it has something even better :)

***

Being a legal consultant is surprisingly easy.

Years of studying business law in order to take down big corporations in the courtroom is now being used to help a big corporation— Nesta wants to be disgusted at the state of her morals. Fortunately for her, all the issues that have come across her desk so far are minor negotiation matters. The way Night Court Inc. is run is virtually perfect, and she almost hopes a blatant lawsuit drops into her lap just so she can give Rhysand and his sycophantic workers hell.

Though Nesta knows better than to dream big. This is essentially busy work that Night Court’s actual lawyers don't have time to do, but she's grateful for it either way. She's grateful for the man who got her this job even more.

When her car finally gets back from the auto shop one sunny November morning, Cassian suggests they go out to celebrate.

“Celebrate what?” Nesta says. “Not having to rely on you for rides anymore?”

“Exactly that.” Cassian grins and leans his elbow against the kitchen counter. “There’s a fall festival an hour north of here that pops up every year. There's good food and hot cider. Let’s go.” He nudges her excitedly.

Nesta narrows her eyes at him. “You’ve been planning this,” she accuses.

“I go every year,” he shrugs. “Come on, we have the whole day ahead of us.”

He makes pleading puppy eyes that have absolutely no effect on Nesta, but she doesn't want to hurt his ego by letting him know that.

There is nothing appealing to her about going out into the cold and doing autumn-related activities, so she surprises herself and Cassian both when she agrees to go. He rewards her with a wide smile and tells her to get ready.

Nesta feels oddly giddy afterward. She can't recognize the feeling, so she tamps down on it while she gets dressed and braids her hair.

Outside, her burgeoning smile drops when she sees Cassian getting the truck started. “I thought the point of this was that we could use my car now.” She gestures to her beat up blue sedan, a sad little thing parked next to Cassian’s fancy truck.

“Nes, if I thought your car could go anywhere near a mountain road without falling to pieces, I would get in it without hesitation.”

It's as close to apologetic sympathy as she’ll get from him, so she only grumbles a little before climbing into the passenger seat she's gotten all too familiar with.

The door slams as Cassian gets in the driver’s seat, and something on the dashboard catches Nesta’s attention. Reaching out, she picks up one of her coloring books and her zipper bag full of markers and pencils.

She glances at Cassian. “Is this for me?”

He looks up from where he’s buckling his seatbelt. “Oh, I just picked it up on my way out. Cell signal gets spotty the closer we get to the mountains, so you might get bored.”

Nesta looks down at the coloring book she's clutching, surprised.

“Did you want anything else before we leave?” Cassian says. “I can run inside and pick up some books.”

“No— no, this is good,” she says softly. She flips the page open to a fresh landscape scene, black on white lines staring back at her. “Thank you.”

She unzips her pencil bag with a new reverence, barely noticing as they pull out of the driveway and head for the highway leading out of town.

Nesta is intent on her coloring the entire ride, falling far too easily into that little bubble of her own mind where she forgets that other things and people exist. Cassian, unlike most people, doesn't seem to mind this. He's content with driving in the quiet, the only sound the soft crackle of the radio and the scratch of Nesta’s pencils.

She’s trying to get the blue shades of the lake just right when she feels the truck start to slow, and she looks up to see that they're in some kind of parking lot. Ahead, a market-carnival setup sits at the base of the mountains, and it sprawls as far as her eyes can see. “We’re here already?”

“Yeah.” Cassian glances at her hesitantly. “Is it lame?” He gestures to the autumn-themed affair, as if he’ll turn around and drive them right back home if it isn't to Nesta’s liking.

Nesta can’t pay the festival any attention yet. “I’m not done with this picture yet,” she says simply. She holds it up for Cassian to see, even though he probably can't tell that the mostly-completed picture is still missing a couple of details.

He just says, “We’ll wait till you're finished, then.”

She brightens with relief, and takes her time adjusting the colors of the landscape to her liking. As soon as she's satisfied with what she has, though, she throws her pencils and book down like they're on fire and grabs her coat. “Let's go,” she demands.

If Cassian is surprised at her sudden change of pace, he hides it well and follows Nesta onto the fairground. “Slow down,” he calls for her.

Perhaps the fall season isn't terrible, Nesta thinks as they buy warm candied apples. The air smells nice and the weather is brisk and Cassian stands so close to her that she never quite gets cold.

It feels almost like a date.

Nesta glances at Cassian from the corner of her eye as she chews on her apple. Wind ruffles his hair and his brown cheeks are flushed red, but he looks content. It's too bad they're just friends, because this would have been a nice date.

She has to stop her train of thought before she gets distracted by how Cassian’s hand isn't holding anything, and how her hand isn't holding anything, and maybe their hands should—

She makes a fist with her free hand and shoves it into her coat pocket. This is why she doesn't usually have friends, she remembers— because she can never stop hungering for more.

Nesta and Cassian’s not-date is spent with Cassian throwing his money at every other thing he sees on sale, and Nesta biting her tongue at the unnecessary waste of it all.

“Eight dollars for a cup of cider? Come on, you're being scammed.” Nesta pulls at his elbow, trying to lead him away from the drinks stand.

“But it comes in one of those cute little jars,” Cassian protests as he’s pulled away.

There’s a laughably small hay-bale maze that they complete in less than three minutes, thanks to Cassian being tall enough to see over the hay bales. Then there’s a ferris wheel that Nesta adamantly refuses to get onto, regardless of how high it goes or not. And then, without either of them noticing, the sun starts slipping behind the mountains.

With her arms full of bags of snacks and random knickknacks that she’ll never need in her life, Nesta finds herself back in the market area.

There’s a painting at an art stand that has caught her attention. Something about the brush strokes and choice of color palette… it reminds her of Feyre’s art style. Amateur, but warm and comforting, clearly made with love and dedication. She approaches the elder salesman carefully, only wanting a closer look at the piece.

It’s of a glittering forest in the peak of autumn, ruby and flame-colored leaves littering the scene. An unwalked pathway cuts through the scene, and a longing Nesta can’t place swells in her stomach.

“My daughter painted this one,” the salesman says to her, pride peeking through his voice. She glances up at the kind-faced man. “Only this one?” she asks. The rest of the paintings don’t have the same art style, Feyre’s style.

“Yes.” He places a protective hand over the canvas. “She’s still learning, but she’s got heart and potential. One day she’ll be a better artist than me.”

Nesta blinks at his words. “How much is it?”

“How much do you have?”

She looks down at her hands full of shopping bags and realizes not one of them is carrying her wallet. “Oh, I must have left my money with my—” She glances up then and looks around. “Cassian?”

He was just here with her. They were walking together and she took note of the pretty fairy lights that were starting to turn on, and then she saw the art stand. She scans the milling crowd for a glimpse of his face, but it’s five p.m. and fully dark now.

Unease starts to pump in her chest. “Cassian?” she calls again. She wanders away from the art stand, painting and salesman forgotten. Maneuvering her full hands, she wrangles her phone out of her back pocket and turns it on. Just as she suspected— no signal. Waving it high in the air doesn’t do much for her either.

Shoving her phone back in her pocket, Nesta takes a strained breath and resolves to keep looking. If she can’t find him, she can always make her way back to the parking lot—

Something shoves hard into Nesta’s back, and her glasses slip right off her nose in the collision. She feels a metallic crunch under her boot and gasps. Suddenly there are people everywhere, heading in the opposite direction that she is, and whoever bumped into her yells a quick apology that gets lost in the crush of bodies.

Nesta stumbles out of the crowd, blinking quickly. She can’t see a thing, and the fairy lights are now blurry orbs. “My glasses—” she says to nobody. She scans the flattened grass and dirt furiously, squinting until she gets a headache, but she can’t find them. “Shit.”

She ends up roaming out of the market area, finding herself back on the fairgrounds. There are a few tents around her, but they're empty and the noise has died down. She doesn’t know where she’s going.

At one point, Nesta simply drops her bags and keeps walking without them. She barely notices leaving them behind. The magic has drained out of the festival, and she just wants to find her way back to Cassian’s truck. If the ferris wheel is that way, then the exit should be that way… she thinks.

She looks around in the dark, frustrated tears rising at her inability to recognize anything. She's alone. She’s cold. She was abandoned.

Nesta doesn't know how long she stands there, hopeless in some deserted corner of the fairgrounds. She forgets what she's supposed to be doing, and just stands there staring at nothing. Escaping to a numbing void in her mind.

The desperate call of her name brings her back to earth.

Blinking, Nesta turns around to find a tall figure heading towards her. Cassian.

He’s holding something in his hand, she can tell, but he drops it when he sees her face and breaks into a run.

“Nesta!” Hard warmth crashes into her as strong arms grab her and yank her close. Her face presses into his chest, and hot tears fall despite the lingering numbness.

“Where did you go?” Cassian is demanding. “You had me so fucking scared—”

“I lost my glasses,” she says weakly into the wool of his coat.

“I know.” He goes from stroking her back to clutching her face. His thumbs rub at the wetness beneath her eyes, and finally she can see his face. He’s close enough that she can read every detail, their foreheads pressed tightly together. He isn't letting go.

She presses her lips together. “I lost you.”

“I know.”

In the next moment, Nesta feels everything all at once: Cassian’s heavy breath on her face, his fingers digging into her scalp, his hazel eyes looking relieved and apologetic and terrified at the same time. His heartbeat racing beneath her hands.

For the briefest eternity, Nesta and Cassian share the same mind. They are thinking the exact same thing.

There’s a moment of painful hesitation, where Nesta has the opportunity to pull away. She doesn't take it, and by then it's too late— Cassian’s mouth is on hers.

Oh. Oh.

Nesta buckles a little under the weight of his kiss, but he holds her upright with his grip. His fingers wind so tightly into her braid she worries he might undo the whole thing, but then she's tucking her cold hands into the warmth of his sweater and wow, what a wonderful end to a terrible night.

His lips break from hers for a breath, only to come in again and kiss her deeper this time. A helpless noise escapes from one or both of them. She’s unraveling with every stroke of his tongue, and she thinks distantly that if kisses were flavored, this one would be sweet enough to make her teeth ache.

It's over far too soon, with Cassian’s series of kisses slowing until they stop completely. He pulls back far enough that they both have room to breathe, and with oxygen comes sharp reality.

For once, Nesta has no words. Her thought process is a tape jammed on a few moments ago, so Cassian is the one that has to slowly drop his hands from her hair and clear his throat.

“Let's go home,” is all he says.

***

The drive back to the cabin is silent. Nesta puts her earbuds in and turns on music as soon as they get in the truck, and halfway home Cassian glances over and realizes she's fallen asleep.

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and it's a struggle to keep his eyes on the headlight-lit road ahead.

Losing track of Nesta with no way to contact her was one thing, but nothing scared Cassian more than when his eyes caught the metallic glint of broken gold rims in the trampled dirt of the marketplace.

After running from stall to stall searching for Nesta, only one man was able to give Cassian a straight answer. “She was looking at some art and then she went that way,” the old salesman pointed. “She seemed upset; I think she was looking for you.”

The pieces of Nesta's glasses sit in a bag in the backseat now, tucked alongside a canvas painting of an autumn landscape.

The relief Cassian felt when he found her in one piece, when she turned to him with the saddest eyes— he was more cemented in his feelings for her in that moment than in any late night he’d spent dreaming about her.

And when she looked at him like that, fighting not to cry… it was over for him. Weeks of restraint that he hadn't even noticed building up snapped at the last second, until he was kissing Nesta like it was his final dying wish. All of it, utterly over.

He glances over to her now, where she sleeps with her head against the fogged window, exhausted after the day she's had. His hands twitch with the temptation to reach out and touch her.

Gravel crunches as Cassian pulls up into the driveway, and he looks at Nesta again and sighs. He almost goes to wake her, but changes his mind at the last moment and gets out of the car instead. Circling around to the passenger side, he opens the door and carefully lifts her out of her seat.

Her head lolls against his chest, but she doesn't wake. Stress and high emotions have no doubt knocked her out for the rest of the night.

Realizing there's no way to unlock the front door while holding Nesta, Cassian has to circle around to the back of the cabin, entering through the open kitchen door and carrying her on silent feet up the stairs.

Once she's safely tucked in her bed, Cassian can relax his shoulders for the first time all night. Later, he sits down in the half-lit kitchen with Nesta’s broken glasses before him. The frame is split right down the middle, but he already knows Nesta won't allow him to get her a new pair. He’ll need wire and some pliers.

Tying his hair back, he settles down and gets to work.

***

a/n: i'm trying to apologize less for my work but this chapter is not only short and late but also super iffy in terms of writing quality 🥴 so im sorry. if my secret snowflake gift has anything to do with it part 8 will also be a little late (i'm looking for balance guys i really am).

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01

#a favor #ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

[justjessame]

Starting Over Chapter 42

Hungry.  That was the best description for me for the rest of the day. Thankfully, the folks down in Delacroix didn’t skimp on the food when it came to celebrating a hometown boy made Captain America.  

Before I got distracted by the food - I met up with Sarah and gave her the tube holding the print.  “I was going to get it framed, BUT -” She shook off the offer and carefully pulled the poster sized print out.  I’d worked on the image only slightly, highlighting the shield’s sheen and the way the boys’ youth and innocence seemed to shine just as clearly.  Smoothing it out on a cleared table, the other guests to the shindig as Bucky called it, came over to see what Sarah had.  

“Oh my,” I heard echoed, along with a few “Wow” gasps, and Bucky’s arms, now that he’d delivered the cake to the appropriate table looped around me and his head nestled on my shoulder.  

“Told you,” he murmured.  “You’re amazing,” I shook my head, but Sarah’s gaze, looking up from the print, told me he wasn’t the only one thinking that I had talent.  And hers wasn’t the only set of eyes that were taking note.  

I was asked, as I made my way toward the buffet, by almost every adult if I took portraits - family shots or even team sets.  Explaining over and over that I had only just started back up with my camera, but that I’d consider it, should we come back for another visit - eyes on the prize of FOOD, I kept moving forward, thinking that I’d promise damn near anything if I could just get a plate of -

“Here,” Sarah appeared with a fully loaded plate and a glass of iced tea.  I nearly hugged and kissed her. I was so damn happy to see it.  “If I left it up to the will of God, or the course between you and that table -” she chuckled and helped navigate me to a table that had Sam and Bucky - who was letting some kids use his left arm as a jungle gym - sitting and waiting.  “Bucky mentioned that you were a little hungry at the bakery earlier.”

“We missed breakfast,” I was trying to figure out how to hold my tea AND take a bite from my plate while we walked, but it was proving an equation too fucking difficult to comprehend.  “I woke up on the wrong side of the bed after my normal round of nightmares.”  I shrugged, trying to calculate how far the damn table was from where we currently were - did they move?  

“Uh-huh,” she glanced back at me, with a look that I knew from Mom.  One that clearly said, I don’t buy your bullshit for one instant Brooke Ashley and I’m going to explain the harsh truth very shortly, but it didn’t make a shit ton of sense coming from Sarah Wilson.  “A few more steps, Brooke, and you won’t have to try to balance the plate on the cup to take a bite.”  

I rolled my eyes, but felt hopeful and then we were at the table and Sam hopped up to help me when Sarah gave him some kind of silent signal.  Settled at the table, I watched as Bucky continued to let the kids ride him like a strange sort of carnival ride.  

“It took you awhile,” he smiled down at me as I unwrapped my plastic utensils and tried to decide where to start on the plate Sarah fixed me.  

“I had to rescue her,” Sarah offered, letting me fork a bite before my head or stomach could explode from need.  “Everyone wants to have Brooke take their pictures.”  

“Course they do,” Sam cut in, watching with interest as I ate like I hadn’t eaten all three cupcakes before we arrived at the party.  “Didn’t Bucky feed you this morning?”  Rude.  

“Sam,” Sarah chided her brother and I had a feeling she also kicked him from the way he gasped and jerked.  “Let Brooke eat, she’s hungry.”

“Very hungry,” Bucky offered, studying me with interest.  “Are you sure -”

I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop eating.  It was like I COULDN’T stop eating.  I was so fucking hungry.  And Bucky was being judgemental and Sam was being a dick - Ugh.  

“She’s just a little hungry,” Sarah reiterated, and Bucky looked at her and whatever expression he saw silenced him.  “Once you’re finished, Brooke,” I looked over to see her smiling softly at me.  “And I do mean, when you are FINISHED,” I smirked at the idea that she was going to let me eat my fill.  “I think you and I could use a little girl time, don’t you?”  I shrugged, if it meant eating in PEACE, I’d probably give her the keys to the car.  

I ate, and ate, and ate some more.  Bucky even went off and got me a piece of that amazing freaking cake we picked up on the way to the cookout.  A healthy slice too, even if he tried to hide a look that clearly showed he was trying to see where I was packing the food away.  

“Thank you,” I offered him my lips for a kiss, which he happily took - payment for the delivery of my cake.  “I love you.”  He was smiling when he pulled away. 

“I love you, too.”  The kids from earlier were back, with friends.  “And I’m being paged.”

“Go,” I pushed him away with a laugh.  “Now YOU’RE Coney Island.”  

Sam went along with him, leaving Sarah and I at the table with my cake.  I’d have thought with the plates of food, real food, I’d eaten I wouldn’t have room left for cake, but I did.  And possibly more than one slice.  

“You’re eating that cake with a look on your face like you can’t quite understand how you’re eating that cake.”  Sarah was studying me like she wanted ME to say something, but damned if I knew what.  “How long has -” she gestured at the stack of empty plates I had piled up under my cake plate. “THIS been going on?”  

“Eating?” Swallowing my bite, I took a drink of tea.  “Since humans came out of the muck, I think.”

She shook her head and laughed.  “Smartass.”  I almost glanced around for Bryn, but we weren’t in Brooklyn, we were in Delacroix.  “You know exactly what I mean, Brooke.”  

I sighed, and put my fork down - reluctantly.  “I woke up this morning, and I was fine.” Her eyebrow told me that Bucky had told her a different tale.  “OK, I was a hateful bitch from hell. I wanted to smother the birds and even Bucky’s lack of his own nightmares pissed me off.”  She nodded.  “I barely got through the shower to SHOWER -” her cringe told me how she could commiserate with me on that note.  “And then we made it to the bakery and -” I sighed, all that sugar and happiness.  “I was so damn hungry and that first cupcake,” my eyes went closed when I thought of the taste of it, so soft and sweet.  “Bucky got me two more, and milk.” Eyes open again - I rolled them to show how silly it was.  “Like I was being childish.”  

“Or maybe,” Sarah bit her lip, staring at me and my plates.  “Maybe WITH child.”  

Another snort and I was thinking that those plates were a prophecy.  “I CAN’T be.” Shaking my head and pushing my half-eaten cake away, reluctant as fuck, but needing to argue my case.  “I’m on birth control, Sarah.” 

“And Bucky has the super-soldier serum running through his system, Brooke.”  She wasn’t raising her voice or pushing, she was simply stating the obvious.  “Do any of us know precisely what it does to -” she raised her eyebrows and shrugged and suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore.  “Are you alright?”

Was I?  Not entirely.  Shit.  I’d been so fucking smug.  

“Brooke?”  It was Bucky, who had to have built in a Brooke feels weird detector.  “Are you ok?” He was kneeling next to me and his left hand was cupping my face.  “You’re pale, doll.”  

“I think I should -,” but I didn’t actually get out what I SHOULD do, because I fainted. 

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #alternate universe #fluff #mention of smut #Family Fluff #FLUFF AND SMUT #humor #possible pregnancy

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

I just found out my tumblr account turned 2 today! So I guess to celebrate I decided to post a two-shot for you guys that I’ve been working on! This takes places a couple months after  You’re Taking Up a Fraction of My Mind, so Jason and Halley have been a couple for a little while now. 

Also for any new readers or anyone looking to catch up, here’s the link to my masterlist :) 

PART TWO

I'm Just a Shot Away From You pt.1 

           “So Bruce gave us tomorrow night off,” Jason’s smooth voice spoke.

           He had been sprawled out on the plush couch in his favorite corner of the Wayne Manor library. His back rested against the couch, one arm wrapped tightly around the girl cuddled up to him while the other held a book tightly in his grasp. As he finished speaking, the girl curled up into his side, half on top of him, looked up, her suspicions of him not being fully focused on the page in front of them confirmed finally.

           His voice had dulled as he read word after word as they had gotten so close to the end of their book, only having one more page to go until they reached the next and final chapter.  She watched as Jason closed the book, letting his finger mark their spot as he spoke again,

           “We should go do something,” He said, sounding confident yet pessimistic, like he was testing dangerous waters.

           The girl that was nestled against him shifted, scooting up and propping her head up with her hand, elbow gently resting against his chest. He frowned slightly when she moved, instinctively tightening his grip on her. His frown grew when she stood quiet, answering him with the look.

           He grew accustomed to that look over the last few weeks. It wasn’t that he was mad at her for pulling that face but he was mad that she had pulled that face. He understood why she was but he was in no way happy about it. It made him make a face of his own, glowering up at the ceiling, his glare almost as scary as Batman’s. Letting out a huff, he reached over to the coffee table, placing the book on top of it before leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms against his chest, breaking his hold on her.

           “Look, I know we agreed to keep this a secret but I don’t know, I thought we’d be able to go out at least more than once by now.” He explained, pouting.

           “I know, you’re right.” Halley relented, biting her lip and nodding in agreement.

           They’d been dating for a few months by now in secret, if you wanted to even call it that. Jason hadn’t officially asked her to be his girlfriend and she never technically asked him if he was her boyfriend. But after the night of the charity gala and sneaking out a few nights later to see a movie together, they both kind of wordlessly assumed that that was what they were, both being to awkward to actually saying it out loud.

           Along with that they also wordlessly agreed and saw eye to eye on keeping this thing a secret. Halley had been completely okay with it for a couple of reasons. One, she didn’t need it to be advertised; she hated the couples that over saturated their relationships in the hallways at school. And as much as she loved both Kori and Dick, they had no shame when it came to their private matters. Public displays of affection was something that intimidated her, still being a new concept in her life. And besides the intimidation factor, there was also a fear factor; she was afraid that it would all be taken away from her if she made her feelings for Jason known to anyone else besides him.

           She’d grown too really like Jason; she was happy that they were what they were to each other, never having or feeling this way with someone else before. She didn’t want to risk it all being ruined. In her mind, there was no way Bruce would be okay with it if he found out about them. He’d say it was a distraction and dangerous, an unnecessary risk to the mission. And she didn’t necessarily disagree with that either. She did find herself taking more risks while out at night, watching Jason’s back more than her own.

            It wasn’t also just that that made her think Bruce wouldn’t be pleased about. She wouldn’t even bring up the constant elephant in the room that was her father but there was also that along with how they lived right across the hall from each other; there was no way he or not to mention Alfred would find that appropriate. She couldn’t remember the last night she spent alone since they began to date. They hadn’t done anything far, Halley and even Jason nowhere near ready for that yet but she couldn’t image Bruce and Alfred would be happy with finding out about their new sleeping arrangements.

           They’d been careful, trying to keep it between the two of themselves; even with a few close calls here and there but so far the two hadn’t suspected a thing it appeared. But Halley couldn’t chance it, terrified that Bruce would send her back to Titan’s Tower with Dick if he found out.

           And then there was Dick, Halley remembered dreadfully.

           She defiantly didn’t want to push it with him for she knew he was on to them. Jason said she was being paranoid, that there was no way he knew, but Halley knew. Between the side glances he gave them during dinner, the constant joining them during their movie nights, and relentlessly butting in on any moment the pair had alone, Halley just had a gut feeling that Dick knew something was up. She was more than relieved when he left, being called away on a Titan’s mission.

            “Bruce gave us tonight and tomorrow night off so we could study,” she said, knowing she was just finding excuses at this point. “And we’re already not using the time to do so tonight and finals are next week.”

           “Fuck finals,” Jason whined, letting his head fall back. He was sick of the excuses and obstacles he faced. He was tired of their ‘date nights’ consisting of them either tucked away in the library until Dick came in to interrupt or being locked up in either one of their rooms re-watching the same rotation of movies. “We’ll be fine; I want to take you out.”

           “Okay,” She relented after a few moments of silence, feeling like a jerk as he sounded like he was pleading. She let her head fall to rest on his shoulder. “We’ll have to sneak out, probably wait until Bruce leaves for the night.”

           Jason smiled at her words as she spoke as hush as she could, as if she was afraid they’d be overheard. He reached down and grabbed her hand pulling it up so their hands rested on his chest. He gave it a tight squeeze. Alfred would be downstairs on monitor duty and together, between a highly trained assassin and the sidekick to the bat himself, they could easily sneak out.

           “There’s the carnival going on at Amusement Mile, let’s go do that.” Jason offered, shrugging his shoulders.

           “Sure,” Halley nodded. She’d been to a carnival once before, a circus as well, Dick having taken her for the first time about a year after she first moved into the tower. She really enjoyed it but had been too shy to admit it at the time. It would be nice to get to experience it again and this time actually be able outwardly enjoy herself.

           They sat in a peaceful silence for a few moments, letting their plans begin to sink in and a sort of relief wash over them. Jason was in no way a sap but he was still just a kid and he couldn’t not want to go out with the girl he’d become so infatuated with over the last few months. He was still trying to process how it even happened, the feelings for each other suddenly sprouting out of nowhere.  Jason thought back and couldn’t pin point the exact moment he started feeling the way he did about her, he only knew that it seamlessly clicked the night in his room when they should’ve been downstairs playing happy family with Bruce.

           He felt a grin on his face as he looked down at their conjoined hands, finding himself leaning up too place a kiss on the side of her forehead. His smile grew and an eyebrow cocked when she looked up at him with her cheeks growing red, like they had so many times lately. He moved his head back up wanting to connect her lips with his but the sound of a door opening stopped him.

           “Halley? You in here?” Dick called out as he entered the room.

           “What is he doing back here?” she quietly pulled herself away from Jason, both teens gapping with widen eyes. She kept herself low as she could to keep themselves still hidden.

           Jason rolled his eyes in anger; of course this was his luck.  Jason was about to pull himself to sit on the opposing side of the couch to make as much space from her and him as possible but an idea crept into his head. He tugged on her hand, pulling her to follow as he slide off the couch, ducked down to the floor and crawled away from their spot.

           He put a finger over his lips, his signal for her to stay quiet and trust him. As they heard Dick’s footsteps coming towards their spot they easily snuck their way up through the opposing isles of book shelves and desks. They took cover behind a bookcase as they saw Dick’s feet from underneath pausing, obviously listening and looking for them when he got no response.

           Dick knew they were in here; they weren’t in either of their rooms or in the living room. He’d just arrived back from Jump City, happy that the mission ended earlier than expected. He was going to see if Halley wanted to go grab dinner with him so he could fill her in on what was going on back with the Titans, Alfred also asking him to check in on her and Jason’s studies. He felt his eagerness to see her ease into annoyance, knowing that she was mostly held up somewhere with Jason and not in fact studying; he was frustrated that she was still clearly keeping things from him.

           He’d caught them one night, making his way to Halley’s room in order to check on her after a rough night of patrol. She was fine but Dick felt himself still worried after seeing her being slammed to the ground after being thrown across the docks by Bane. He heard the crunch her body made at the impact and saw her eyes blacking out. She’d been down for the rest of the fight, but once Bane was subdued and on his way to Black Gate, she was swearing that she was fine, just a few bruises.

           He noted Jason growing sloppy during the rest of the fight eventually breaking off and making sure she was okay before Dick could. He was thankful for it but there was something that caught his eye, distracting him and almost making him Bane’s next victim. Jason had ran his fingers through her hair and caressed her cheek, a gesture Dick thought was odd for friends so when he reached Halley’s room to find it empty, he immediately faced Jason’s door. He hadn’t been bothered to knock, reaching down for the doorknob and slowly twisting.

           They’d forgotten to lock the door, allowing him to see them tangled up in Jason’s bed, the TV still playing but they were both out like a light. Dick felt heat rise up from his stomach, wanting to scream and yell but something stopped him. Halley hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about whatever this was and he knew by storming in and causing a scene would just push her farther away from him than she already was. So he quietly closed the door and had kept his mouth shut since.

           Halley wanted to laugh as she thought of Dick’s frustrated face that he must have been wearing right now. He walked further into the library until he was standing by the couch in their previous spot. Jason jerked her hand forward, now seeing the opportunity to make a quick dash for the door while Dick was now the furthest away from it. She nodded, following him as they took off, making sure their footsteps were light as a feather as they hurriedly walked out of the room and out into the hallway.

           Once in the hallway they took off into a jog, their hands still holding tightly to each other. They headed towards the side of the manor that was never really used, taking cover in one of the first rooms they found, locking the door behind them. Halley put her ear to the door, checking to see if she heard Dick following them and smirked when she knew that Dick hadn’t.

           As she was at the door she let her hand fall from Jason’s, who was now pouting because of it. She chuckled slightly at his look of abandonment and moved back towards him. Wrapping her arms up around his neck she smiled up at him, her eyes almost glossy and heavy as a reaction to him looking at her straight in the eyes. She felt her breath hitch, feeling herself leaning forward to capture his lips, hiding from Dick now being the furthest thing on her mind.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd as Robin #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson fanfic #Dick Grayson x batsis #batfam x batsis #batman fanfiction #Batsis #batboys x batsis #dc comics fanfic

[procrastinatorimagines]

New Traditions

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow

Character/s: Mick x Reader, The Legends

Warning/s: *a lot of googling so sorry if I got it wrong*

Word Count: 1,428

Request:  hi, could you do a x reader oneshot on where the legends try to cheer the reader up after she found out that her favorite festival "Uncle Billy's Day" was canceled (in Altavista, va), by throwing her a festival on the waverider (with games prizes, and her favorite sweets: Deep fried oreos, Sho cones, and Funnel Cakes). including the reader and mick getting together and sharing their "First Kiss" (after mick was caught flirting with the reader)!

Summary: Reader’s feeling down after her favourite festival is cancelled, but Mick helps make it a day to remember, in more than one way...

“What are you moping about?” Mick Rory asked, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you slide your pancakes around with your fork absentmindedly. 

“Huh?” You looked up to see him regarding you carefully, equal parts curious to know why you were down, but also clearly not prepared for an emotional conversation. “I’m not moping,” you told him a little defensively.

“Yes you are,” he replied gruffly, heading more into the kitchen, “it’s weird, you’re usually more annoyingly cheerful.” He approached you at the table and knicked a pancake off your plate, shrugging and looking at you as if to say, if you’re not going to eat it then I will. 

You glared at him as he took a seat to eat your food, folding your arms and leaning back in your chair. He stared back at you unblinking. “Fine, you really want to know what’s wrong?” You took his grunt to mean yes as you continued. “My favourite festival was cancelled back home, Uncle Billy’s Day.”

“Why does your Uncle Billy have a day named after him?” Mick asked through a mouthful of food.

“No, not my Uncle Billy, Billy Lane, he founded my home town, Altavista in Virginia. The festival is an old tradition celebrating the businesses and people that make the town so great,” you explained, “great music, great food, great atmosphere...”

“That’s it?” He asked when he realised you were done, “you know we’re on a time ship right, just take the jump ship and go meet your uncle, simple.” 

“He’s not my-” you realised that that was one part of the conversation that wasn’t going to stick with Mick, so you let it go and said, “-look, it’s not the same, though that does sound like a cool idea, but I just wanted to spend the weekend with my family, you know? Normal people stuff, eat some food, go around the market, watch the fireworks... You just- you don’t understand, it doesn’t matter.” 

You reminisced about the many years spent visiting the festival with your family, this would be the first one in as long as you could remember that you wouldn’t be able to go to.

“What’s there not to understand? You don’t get to spend the day you wanted with Uncle Bill and your family,” you rolled your eyes but he didn’t seem to notice, “family’s important to you, I know that, doesn’t mean you have to spend the whole day moping though, frowning will give you wrinkles.”

With a sigh you pushed your plate away, with Mick willingly taking it off your hands and grabbing your fork. “You know what? Forget I said anything, I’ll be in my room.” You headed out the door, Mick watching you leave out the corner of his eye.

-

A few hours later you were blasting music out your headphones and flipping through an old family photo album. You loved being a Legend, and you wouldn’t change that for the work, but you missed the simplicity and normalcy of your life back home, the traditions you had with your family, and not being about to go to Uncle Billy’s Day with them was making you homesick.

You were so lost in thought that you missed the knock at the door the first time, but pulled your headphones down once the banging got louder. Heaving yourself out of bed you opened your door to reveal Mick, looking rather embarassed as he gestured for you to follow him. “Need you on the bridge.” Was all he said.

“Okay, yeah,” you followed after him, unsure why he looked a little fidgety. You’d never seen him actually look nervous before, but he kept glancing back at you as you headed towards the bridge, what was going on?

You realised, however, when the door opened, to reveal the rest of your crew shouting, “Surprise!” Around the room were tables of food, music playing, as well as various games and decorations.

“What’s all this?” You asked in surprise, looking from Mick, who avoided meeting your eyes, to the rest of the crew. 

Nate replied as Behrad passed you a plate with a slice of funnel cake on it. “Well Mick mentioned you were a little down today because you couldn’t spend the weekend at your festival with your family, so we thought we’d bring the festival to you.”

“Yes we’ve got party poppers, streamers, and the most sickeningly America desserts you could ever imagine,” Constantine chimed in, glancing suspiciously at the deep fried oreos on a tray. You grinned as you looked around.

“Well don’t just stand there, come on!” Sara grabbed your free arm and pulled you into the room as you looked around at what they had done for you.

“You guys did all this?” You asked in equal parts gratitude and disbelief.

“Yeah well, you couldn’t be with your family at home, so we figured this was the next best thing,” Charlie patted you on the back.

“Thank you,” you told them, taking a bite of your cake and smiling widely.

“It’s Mick you should be thanking,” Ava replied as Mick shuffled awkwardly in the corner, “it was his idea.”

“Really?” You turned to face him and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, well, you looked miserable, it was annoying so...” He shrugged, grabbing a beer and from an ice box next to a sno cone machine and heading to grab some cake, not giving you time to thank him properly. Emotion wasn’t really his thing, but it made you heart flutter that someone would care enough to do something like this, this was a big gesture coming from Mick.

“Well, what are we still standing around here for, let’s get this party started!” Sara cheered, “we couldn’t really get the carnival here so we’ve improvised some drinking games and added prizes to them.” You looked to where beer pong was set up at the side.

With a grin you put down your now empty plate and took a paddle, with Nate excited grabbing the other one before anyone else could. “This is going to be so much fun,” he said and you agreed. 

This may not be how your day was supposed to go, but they’d made their own festival for you to make you feel more at home, and it was absolutely perfect.

-

The day was getting on and your sides were hurting from all the laughing, games and sweets, so you went to take a breather out in the hall while the others played some variation of Heads Up.

To your surprise you found Mick out in the hall, helping himself to the oreos that had somehow gone missing earlier. “Hey, you done already?” He asked, looking to from where he was sat against the wall. You slide down to join him and helped yourself to some more food.

“Just taking a minute, why aren’t you joining in?” You asked him.

“Not really my scene,” he replied, having another sip of his beer. “I’m just glad you’re enjoying it.”

“It’s better than I could ever have asked for,” you told him, noticing the corners of his lips twitch up into a smile. “Thank you, really, you didn’t have to do anything of this.”

“Team effort,” he said, looking to see you staring back at him. You put a hand on his arm.

“But it was your idea, you’re kind of the only one I told about today, so thank you for making it possible,” you noticed that he’d gone pretty still under your touch, eyes not leaving you as you felt yourself leaning in a little. “Thank you for caring, Mick.”

You could see his eyes glance down between your eyes and your lips, leaning in a little too but letting you take the lead as you planted a light kiss on his lips. He seem practically frozen in place as you drew back, unsure whether you’d been reading the signals right. But the shock wore off of him quickly as he pulled you back in with a little more force, kissing you properly - you’d definitely not been reading those signals wrong.

Your hand when from his arm to his collar as you pulled him into you, not wanting the moment to end as you both lost yourself in the kiss. When you eventually broke apart to breath you smiled at him, noticing the soft and caring look in his eyes. 

“Sorry this wasn’t the day you had planned,” he mumbled, face inches from yours.

“That’s okay, today was a good day.”

#mick rory #legends of tomorrow #dcs legends of tomorrow #arrowverse #mick rory imagine #legends of tomorrow imagine #dcs legends of tomorrow imagine #mick rory imagines #legends of tomorrow imagines #dcs legends of tomorrow imagines #imagine #imagines

[voltrontranscript]

VLD S8E8: Clear Day

Season 8 Episode 8: Clear Day

Transcribed by @dragonofyang

Summary: The crew on the IGF-Atlas spends some time on planet Drazan during Clear Day to unwind, meanwhile Allura stays onboard and discovers that nothing ever truly disappears, and that there is power still that can turn the tide of the war.

[Google Doc]

Allura: Tavo, I want to thank you for speaking with me.

Tavo: Forgive me, Princess Allura, but we don’t have much time.

Allura: I’m sorry?

Tavo: Please. Once Honerva discovers I’m speaking with you, it will be over.

Allura: Slow down. What are you trying to--?

Tavo: Listen to me. Now that she has Lotor, she will use him to destroy everything--

Allura: Tavo! Wait! I feel something.

Sam: Get them out of there! Reverse the magnetic polarity once the room is cleared. The impulse prism might just stabilize the foreign object.

[Scene change to Sam and Allura observing the dark entity in its container.]

Sam: This unit uses the ship’s crystal to energize the optronic vacuum casing. It was designed to contain diseases, but it should suffice until we find a more permanent solution.

Allura: Thank you, Sam. That thing, it was as if it was communicating with me. Whatever this is, it might be how Honerva connects to the Alteans.

Sam: Perhaps you should get some rest. It’s best if everyone stays away from this until we learn more about… Allura?

Allura: You’re right. Best to stay away.

[Scene change to the IGF-Atlas bridge.]

Garrison Officer: Captain, I’m picking up an abnormal signal from planet Drazan in the zeta-three sector.

Shiro: Open a hailing frequency. We need to find out what’s going on.

Veronica: Copy.

Shiro: This is Takashi Shirogane of the Voltron--

Burr: Well, if it isn’t the Voltron Coalition. And here I was thinking you were afraid to show your face after ruining the last Clear Day.

Coran: Yes, sorry about that. That was--that was on me.

Shiro: We noticed a lot of activity on your planet’s surface. Are you in danger?

Burr: Opposite! We’re celebrating Clear Day!

Coran: Hang on, isn’t Clear Day four movements from now?

Burr: Time dilation, you snarflaf! It’s right now. So unless you’d like to waste more of my time, I need to get back.

Shiro: Are you sure hosting a celebration is safe? This sector has seen a lot of hostile activity lately.

Burr: Oh, here we go. I knew this was coming. In fact, I just told my wife. I said to her, “Just you wait. You don’t know them the way I do. They promise to show up. You tell everyone that Voltron is coming to Clear Day. Everyone gets excited. Then Voltron never arrives, and you’re left with your top two paws stuck in the rocks!”

Shiro: We don’t wanna ruin your holiday, but we’re concerned--

Burr: We’re having Clear Day, and that is that! If you’re so worried about our safety, then how about you show up and provide security? Free of charge!

Shiro: Veronica, make an announcement to the Atlas. We’re going to Clear Day.

[Scene change to Allura’s quarters, where Lance and Allura are cuddling in bed.]

Lance: Are you sure you don’t wanna head down to the carnival? I’m pretty sure the Swathian Meerakeet won’t try to eat us.

Allura: I’m sure. I haven’t been feeling well, especially after what happened to Tavo. I need to rest.

Lance: Right. Well, I could stay here with you, keep you company if you want.

Allura: Please, go have fun. Maybe you can win me a prize. Something sparkly?

Lance: Yeah, okay. Winning prizes is kinda my specialty. I am a sharpshooter, after all.

[Scene change to several ships flying to the surface of Drazan.]

Shiro: I want you all to enjoy yourselves today. The celebration ends in five vargas. It’s important to remember that while the Atlas patrols the skies, we are the eyes and ears on the ground looking for any suspicious activity. These people are relying on us.

Coran: I pulled some strings and got each of you ten complimentary Clear Day tokens. Use them for games, foods, rides--

Pidge: Where’s Allura?

Lance: She’s going to stay back and rest. I just need to find something to bring back for her.

Pidge: That’s nice of you, Lance. I’ll help, too.

Hunk: Me three.

Keith: Let’s remember why we came here in the first place: to provide security for the event.

Pidge: Right. Well, I better go find the arcade and make sure it’s safe, yeah!

Lance: Uh, me, too!

Hunk: Me three!

Coran: Uh, wait for me!

Shiro: Keith, relax. Go have fun.

Keith: If we’re not here for protection, then what are we even doing here?

Shiro: Morale on the Atlas is low after what happened on Oriande. Who knows? A few hours at the carnival might just give us the boost we need to get back on track.

[Scene change to Allura laying in bed.]

Allura: Lance? What are you doing here?I thought you were going to the carnival.

Dark Entity (as Lance): That’s a beautiful flower. Where did you get it?

Allura: Colleen gave it to me. It’s a real juniberry flower. I assumed they had gone extinct.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): You should know better than anyone, nothing ever truly goes extinct. It’s good to see you again, Princess.

Allura: How? How did you get in here?

Dark Entity (as Lotor): You know, the ancients believed that all of life began with a single juniberry flower. I thought you’d be happy to see me.

Allura: What are you doing here? I demand to know!

Dark Entity (as Lotor): You and I desire the same thing. We both seek to destroy Haggar.

Allura: Haggar? Haggar is no longer. She’s Honerva now.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): True, though I could rename this a highlands poppy, you and I would both know what it truly is. The witch may change her name, but she will always be a witch.

Allura: Be that as it may, she’s too powerful. There’s nothing I can do to counter her abilities.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): You are mistaken. Everything you need is here.

Allura: How?

Dark Entity (as Lotor): This entity holds the power you seek. It is an ancient form of energy that predates time itself. It hails from the Quintessence Field. Entities like this gave Haggar the ability to conquer worlds and control the universe for ten thousand years. She recognizes the strength it provides her, and she uses it. If you can become one with the entity, then the powers you gain can defeat the witch.

[Scene change to a vision of Altea.]

Dark Entity (as Melenor): Allura.

Allura: Mother!

Dark Entity (as Melenor): I am so happy you’re here. You have arrived just in time.

Allura: Just in time? For what?

Dark Entity (as Melenor): To save us. Only you can protect us.

Dark Entity (as Melenor): I am so proud of you.

[Cut to Allura waking up in bed.]

Allura: It--it’s okay. It was only a dream.

[Cut to Pidge in the arcade.]

Arcade Game: I’m Coran, Coran, the non-truth telling man. Pick up that mallet and bomp me on the cranker before I can tell you a lie. Bomp me enough times and you’ll win a great prize!

Pidge: Yeah-ha-ha!

Arcade Game: Ah! No! Come on! See here! Stop it!

[Cut to a big-top tent as Shiro enters.]

Burr: Well, look who decided to actually show up.

Shiro: Good to see you, too, Burr.

Burr: Couldn’t help but notice the Blue Lion ain’t here. That’s fine. Can’t expect Voltron to completely follow through on their promises.

Shiro: What’s going on over here?

Burr: That’s the arm wrestling contest. It ain’t for people like you.

Shiro: Why is that? Because of my arm?

Burr: No. Arm wrestling is for the young and strong. You’re old, like me. Those kids would break you in half, mechanical arm or not.

Shiro: Is it too late to sign up?

Burr: Mm, I’m sure we could work something out.

[Scene change to a screaming Drazan on a stage.]

Host: Nice job, Glurry. Very respectable scores. Not bad at all. Now for our next contestant in the yalmor calling competition, please welcome Corin!

Coran: Right, then. Just do what Pop-Pop taught you to do.

[Scene change to Hunk sampling something on a stick.]

Keith: Look, guys, I just wanna know if you’ve seen anything suspicious.

Drazan Girl: Well, there is one weirdo who’s going around and bothering people about if they’ve seen anything suspicious.

Keith: Okay, that’s a start. Did you get a good look at… It’s me, isn’t it?

Hunk: Hey-o! Whatcha doing, Keith? Making new friends? Sweet. You know, it’s good to see you finally letting your guard down.

Keith: I wasn’t making friends.

Ride Operator: Next! Come on, you’re holding the line up! Let’s go!

Hunk: The line? Line for what?

Woman: Yeah, get out of here!

Man: What’s taking so long? Move!

Hunk: Oh. Uh, no, no. You don’t understand. I don’t like rides.

Ride Operator: Then, why were you in line?

Keith: We didn’t know it was a line!

Ride Operator: Likely story. Keep your hands and feet in the mouth at all times. You use ‘em, you lose ‘em. Have a blissfully burrowful time.

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] We burrow every day! Underground is where we stay, waiting for the time to say, “Clear Day, Clear Day!”

Hunk: This is awesome!

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day! What do we say? Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day!

Hunk: Huh?

Ride Operator over PA: Sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll get this thing up and running in a tick. In the meantime, stay in your burrow buggy. And remember, have a blissfully burrowful time.

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] What do we say? Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day! What do we say? Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day!

Keith: I gotta get out of here.

[Scene change to the arcade where a Drazanite child receives a purple lion toy.]

Drazan Child: Oh!

Lance: Voltron doesn’t have a Purple Lion.

Game Operator: Wanna play? All you gotta do is throw one of these rings onto one of them sticks. Win one for your special someone?

Lance: You got any Blue Lions? I used to be the Blue Lion’s Paladin and now my girlfriend is, so it’s--it’s kind of our thing.

Game Operator: Oh, is that right? Let me see. I happen to have a one-of-a-kind, collector’s edition blue mechanical flying feline.

Lance: Perfect! How much? They only gave us ten of these token thingies.

Game Operator: Oh, wonderful! Ten tokens is exactly how much it costs to play the game!

Lance: Did these rings shrink?

Game Operator: Oh, no, friend. They just look smaller in your strong, muscular hands.

Lance: Hm.

Game Operator: Oh! So close. Care to try again?

Lance: Oh, this game is rigged! And I don’t have any more tokens.

Game Operator: Well, perhaps we can make a deal.

[Scene change to Pidge at a counter with a mountain of tickets in front of her.]

Pidge: What’s the best prize you have?

Prize Counter Girl: Every prize is the best prize, and everyone goes home a winner.

Pidge: Okay, but say I was giving the prize to a princess.

Prize Counter Girl: For a princess? Behold.

Pidge: I’ll take it!

Prize Counter Girl: Sure, but you’re gonna need about twice as many tickets as this.

Pidge: But I don’t have any more tokens.

Prize Counter Girl: Well, in that case, you could get one of these shovels and use it to dig your way out of the hole you find yourself in.

Pidge: I’ll find a way to get more tickets.

[Scene change to a shooting game where the MFE pilots are playing then to the arm-wrestling contest.]

Shiro: May the best man win.

Alien: Who are you calling a man?

Man: Alright!

Man 2: Yeah!

[Cut to the Holts at a photo booth.]

Pidge: Dad, I ran out of tokens!

Sam: Well, that’s what happens when you waste it all on--

Pidge: Dad!

Sam: Okay. How much do you need?

Pidge: How much do you got?

Colleen: You’ll have to earn them. I want a family picture.

Pidge: I’ll take the picture, but I pick the costume.

Colleen: I get to add one accessory and you have to smile.

Pidge: Half-smile.

Colleen: You’ve got yourself a deal.

Photographer: Say “Clear Day”!

All: Clear Day!

Colleen: I want another picture. Katie isn’t smiling.

Pidge: Sorry! Gotta go do paladin stuff!

[Scene change to the dark entity’s holding chamber.]

Allura: It’s been here the entire time.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): Everything you need, the ability you’ve been seeking, within your grasp. Go ahead, Allura. Free it.

Allura: I can’t. I won’t.

Dark Entity (as Lance): It won’t do any harm. The entity will help you. It will save all of us.

Dark Entity (as Lotor): Take it.

Allura: No. No. This is not real!

Dark Entity (as Melenor): Only you can save us all. Release the entity.

Dark Entity (as Melenor and Honerva): Come home to Altea.

Dark Entity (as Honerva): Join us.

Lotor: Follow me!

[Scene change to Hunk and Keith in the ride.]

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] We burrow every day! Underground is where we stay, waiting for the time to say, “Clear Day--

Ride Operator over PA: Looks like everything is in order. We apologize for the delay. Again, have a blissfully burrowful time.

Keith: Finally.

Mechanical Drazanites: [singing] Clear Day, Clear Day, Clear Day! What do we say? Clear Day, Clear Day--

Keith: That’s it! I’m getting out of here. You coming?

Hunk: Can we come back when the ride gets fixed? I wanna see how it ends. Aw, man. Alright, wait up! Oh… where are we?

Emcee: Ladies and burrowmen, this is it! Only two remain in the yalmor calling competition. Who will be our champion?

Keith: Is that Coran?

Coran: She’s done a twist on the Flogarian technique. She’s good, really good.

Emcee: Wow! A blagmore and two durgises. That score is gonna be hard to beat.

Center Judge: Just gorgeous.

Emcee: Three blagmores! The top prize for the best squoozle of the day goes to Corn-man Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe!

[Cut to a close up of a Blue Lion plush.]

Lance: And that’s the last one.

Vendor: Here you go.

Coran. Nice plushie!

Lance: Nice trophy!

Pidge: Look what I got for Allura. I bet she’s really gonna dig it.

Keith: Where’s Shiro?

[Scene change to the arm wrestling competition stage.]

Burr: Ladies and burrowmen, are you ready to crown an arm wrestling champion? First up is our challenger, former Paladin of Voltron and the current captain of the IGF-Atlas. Hailing from some tiny planet no one has ever heard of. It’s Shiro! And our reigning champion, who needs no introduction, let’s hear it for the Warden!

Warden: You!

Burr: Friend of yours?

Shiro: Not exactly.

Warden: You and your little friends took away my livelihood.

Shiro: You held an innocent person prisoner to help the Galra Empire. I’d gladly do it again.

Warden: Look, I know I did some bad things. The truth is, I thought you guys ruined my life, but, really, you saved me. After I stopped working for the Galra, I was at a low point, but then I found arm wrestling, and it helped me realize what’s most important in my life. Win or lose, thank you. Now, let’s put on a show!

Coran: Rip his arm off! Rip his arm off!

Pidge: You got this!

Warden: You’re alright, Shiro.

[Scene change to Allura, laying unconscious in the room where the Dark Entity was being held.]

Sam: Allura! Allura, are you okay?

End.

#vld #voltron #transcript #allura #shiro #pidge #lotor #coran #lance #keith #hunk #burr #tavo #honerva #melenor #dark entity #colleen #sam #veronica

[dearlazerbunny]

Not So Bad After All

Pairings: Takashi Morinozuka x Reader

Genre/Ratings: G; descriptions of a panic attack

Words: 2200

Summary: Requested by anonymous; who wanted secret-boyfriend-Mori to come to the rescue during a panic attack (and Tamaki’s reaction at discovering the secret couple). There’s dancing, y’all, that’s all I’m gonna say. 

“Okay,” you murmur to yourself, low enough so that the hordes of people around you won’t hear. “This isn’t so bad, right?” You glance around at the students darting between booths of cotton candy and carnival games, laughing as they pull friends by the hand through the crowd to their next big adventure. It smells of popcorn and sugar, and brightly-colored stuffed animals sway in the spring breeze and catch your gaze. It’s a chaotic but cheerful scene, and despite your hesitation the atmosphere does tug at something light in your chest. “I’ll just find the boys, say hello, then look for quietest corner to hide in…”

Easier said than done. The receiving line to see the club- they’re holding court in the center of the fair, surrounded by twinkling lights and lush landscaping- is miles long, with dozens of girls clamoring for a spot in line closer to their idols. Luckily, you catch Haruhi’s eye and she smiles and waves you over to a little side area that doesn’t have any foot traffic. She nudges Tamaki and says something in his ear, then leads a few others over to you while the ever-popular king keeps the rest of the crowd occupied.

“Hey Y/N!” She waves, her smile bright. “We thought you weren’t gonna make it!”

“Y/N-chaaaaaaan!” Honey’s small self elbows through the throng and tackles you in an enthusiastic hug, making you laugh and ruffle his hair. “I’m so glad you’re here! Did you see the cotton candy? It’s shaped like flowers!”

“Hi, Honey,” you giggle. “Yes, I saw the fairy floss, and it looks bigger than your head.”

He grins. “That’s the best part!”

“You’ll get sick, Mitsukuni.” Mori taps his cousin on the head, then lifts him onto his shoulders. “Remember what happened last time?”

“Um…. No?”

You snort. “How convincing. Do I want to know?”

“Noooooo, nope, no you do not.” Haruhi is adamantly making the abort mission signal. “So, what are you going to do first?”

“Mmmm, not sure. Maybe the bumper cars? As long as it isn’t the Ferris wheel I’ll be fine,” you joke. You are really not a fan of heights.

“Haruhiiiiiiiiiii? Where is Haruhi? Is she lost?!”

Said girl in question rolls her eyes at you dramatically. “Senpai calls. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

“HARUHIIIIIIIIII-”

“Calm down, Tamaki, I’m coming!”

You have to smother your giggles with a hand over your mouth as you watch an exasperated a Haruhi storm back over to the group. “She’s got him bent around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

“Thoroughly.” Mori turns his attention back to you, and you can’t help but take in how handsome he looks with the lights glinting in his eyes and the rare chance to see him out of uniform.

“Hi,” you say shyly, reaching up in your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Busy night?” He makes an obviously unhappy noise of agreement. “I’ll wander around a bit and meet back up with you at the end, then? Don’t eat too much candy,” you gently rebuke Honey, pinching his toes. He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

The pair eventually get back to their hosting- though not before Mori returns your kiss- and you watch them go a bit sadly. Mori loves his friends and likes his hobby, even if it does take time away from you. Winding through a busy carnival does sound romantic after all- he’d probably win every prize in the booth for you if you wanted. The thought makes you smile.

“Y/N! Hey!” You turn and just as your classmate Ann makes her way towards you. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” You give her a wave. “Just killing time. You?”

“Well, I was trying to get Hikaru’s attention, but considering I’m still here alone you can see how well that’s going…” she sighs, annoyed. Ann’s been hooked on the twin for months now, and it’s times like this you’re glad nobody knows about you and Mori because you just know she’d try and use you for an in with him. “Anyways. You here with anyone? Wanna be fair buddies?”

“Ummm…” it wouldn’t be your first choice, but Ann is harmless most of the time… “sure, why not?”

“Cool!” She gives you a wide smile. “I know exactly what I want to do- the Ferris wheel! Come on!”

Your eyes widen as she grabs your arm. “Oh, no, um, I’m probably just going to stick to the games-”

“Oh come on, Y/N, don’t kill the mood. It’ll be fun!” You squeak as she yanks you towards the ride, unable to get yourself out from her grip.

Despite every excuse you can think of- why don’t I just wait for you here? I can go get us some food! I heard Hikaru was hanging out by the ski ball- you’re somehow ushered into an incredibly rickety looking basket that’s swinging from rusty hinges. Ann is excited, talking a mile a minute, but you feel like you’re holding your stomach in with your hands. The clang the metal door makes as the operator locks you in sounds like a death sentence.

“Ooooooo, here we go!” The cab lurches forward and everything in you lurches with it, slowly pulling the two of you skywards.

“Oh god oh god oh god-” you’re frantically mumbling under your breath, trying to keep yourself together, but you can feel your heartbeat beginning to race and your fingers fumble nervously for some sort of purchase. “I don’t- can they stop the ride? I need to get off now!”

“Whoa, hey, Y/N- are you okay?”

“I can’t-!” The words choke up your throat, and pretty soon a full fledged panic attack is hovering just in the brink of your vision. Everything is too hot and too bright and too loud and you can’t breathe at all- the ride lurches as you halt at the top of the wheel, and a shriek escapes from you before you can hold it back- loud enough to make Ann jump.

“Jesus-! Okay, just, just calm down okay? It’ll be over soon, everything is totally fine, okay?”

You try to listen to her words, hands pressed to your face in effort to stop tears from rolling down your cheeks, but your breathing is still achy and off-tempo. The whole way down is a nightmare, every little shake of your seat setting off a torrent of new anxiety. You’ve practically leapt from the ride before it even touches down; stumbling down the steps and into the crowd with a red face and and shaky hands. Even worse, everyone is looking, watching you completely freak out, and you can’t get yourself to stop-

“Y/N.” Mori appears in front of you, tall enough to block out some of the blinding lights. “What’s happened?” You shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. “Breathe. You’re safe.”

He keeps talking, just like he has every other time he’s helped you through a panic attack. It helps to listen to his voice; ever calm and unruffled, a cool contrast to the thoughts in your head racing a million miles a minute. He takes your hand as well, rubbing small circles with his thumb. “Y/N? Dance with me.”

You look up at him, choking back tears. “Mori- you- we can’t-”

Protesting doesn’t stop him from gently tugging you closer. You slip your arms around him almost in relief, letting yourself rest your forehead against his chest. His own hands drop to your waist, an incredibly familiar gesture that instantly slows your heart to a more manageable level.

It’s a callback to your first meeting- some gala so many years ago- where the long and formal night was starting to wear on your nerves something fierce. Mori had been kind enough to talk to a complete stranger, to joke with you and bring you a drink when you were clearly in no place to get one yourself. When he’d asked you to dance, you’d marveled that on the ballroom floor with his hand on your waist was the calmest you’d felt all night. Ever since, the two of you would ask each other to dance- to make the other take a break from homework, to celebrate a victory or cheer up after defeat, or just to make each other laugh. And at times like now, when the only thing that will get through to your overwhelmed senses is the feeling of his heartbeat as he sways with you back and forth.

“What are they doing…?” Tamaki comments, seeing the two of you dance quietly amidst a bustling walkway. You’re drawing some looks, but neither of you seem to notice- lost in your own world. “He’ll ruin the mood! This is not what we’re doing today, Mori-senpai!!”

“Is YN-chan okay?” Honey says worriedly, noting your red face.

“Let’s leave them alone. We’ll figure it out later.”

“But- but Haruhi, my carnival!”

“Tamaki I swear to god-”

…

When the crowds clear and all the girls have gone home, the eight of are you are left at a picnic table to watch crews of servants effectively bundle away the tents and booths. Honey is drowning in several newly-acquired plushies, the twins are devouring leftover food, and Kyoya is marking figures in his journal with a pleased expression on your face. You’re sitting next to Mori, probably closer than you should, but your nerves are still frayed. Haruhi is on the other side of you, occasionally sliding you worried glances. “So, um… is everything okay, Y/N? You seem a little…”

“Weird. Were you crying earlier?” Hikaru asks with his usual tact, words garbled from the popcorn in his cheeks. Haruhi shoots him a glare.

“Oh, um…” you fumble over an explanation until Mori subtly bumps your knee with his, grounding you. “I had a bit of a panic attack. A friend got me on the Ferris wheel and heights are…” you shiver a little. “But, um. Mori helped me, so. I’m better now.”

“Oh yeah, we saw that. Were you dancing?” The redhead raises a cocky eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

“Yes, care to explain?” Tamaki pipes in, his arms crossed and brow furrowed. “I thought we agreed that the theme was to be upbeat, casual, and fun! Dancing was not on the schedule!”

Your cheeks flame. “It’s just- something we do, sometimes.”

“Oh, because it’s a crime to dance with your girlfriend now?” Haruhi defends you with a nudge to your shoulder. “Geez, Tamaki, lay off.”

“Wha- G- Girlfriend?!” Tamaki sputters. “Mori-senpai does not have a girlfriend!” You look at the blonde skeptically. No, you hadn’t told them, but you thought they would’ve figured it out by now on their own… Mori seems to be thinking the same, giving you an amused glance. Haruhi is similarly looking at him in open disbelief, a gaze that says how thick can you be; Honey is giggling behind his hand, and even Kyoya raises a pointed eyebrow. Tamaki stares at all of you, not getting it. Then, very deliberately, Mori takes your hand in his and tangles your fingers together, right in front of the boy’s face.

“MORI HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Kaoru almost chokes at his sudden change in volume. “Geez, boss, settle down!”

“But- but I- why did no one tell me? Who knew of this… this conspiracy!?”

Now even you have to hold back a laugh- Tamaki being ridiculous never fails to make you smile. You raise the hand not attached to Mori, and you can hear Mori’s laughter rumbling in his chest as he raises his as well. Honey sticks his bun-bun’s pink furry paw in the air, Haruhi holds up two fingers with an amused smirk, and even Kyoya puts a slender hand in the air.

The twins, for their part, just glance at each other and shrug. “We could’ve guessed.”

“Wha- you knew? And you kept it from me?” He rounds on Kyoya, his violet eyes wide and brimming dramatically with unshod tears. “But why, Kyoya-senpai?”

“Well, they asked me to, for one,” Kyoya says in his dry sarcasm. “I believe they were afraid you’d react along the lines of-” he gestures at Tamaki. “This.”

“That is hardly fair! As leader of this club I should know everything that goes on! I should-” he goes on, whining and pleading and arguing at Kyoya who very pointedly keeps a straight face and nods at the appropriate times while his best friend continues his rant.

“Well.” You glance at your boyfriend. “I suppose that worked out, then?”

“Something like that,” he agrees. He still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Just for the record,” Haruhi leans in. “I think the dancing thing is cute.”

You shove her away, embarrassed, as the twins let loose some cat calls and Honey claps enthusiastically in agreement. “You guys are the worst,” you grumble, but you give Haruhi a smile anyways as you lean into the kiss Mori presses to the top of your head.

A/N: I had to throw in the “Mori, this is not what we’re doing today!” line XD 

#mori x reader #mori x you #takashi morinozuka #ohshc mori #OHSHC #ohshc fanfiction #ohshc fic #ohshc fluff #reader insert #tamaki suoh #Kyoya Ootori #ohshc honey #ohshc hikaru #ohshc kaoru #haruhi fujioka

[fc5holidayexchange]

FAR CRY 5 HOLIDAY EXCHANGE 2019 FIC

‘Camp-Out’

Jacob Seed, Deputy Ophelia ‘Finn’ Finnegan/Grace Armstrong, Cheeseburger; Finn gets to have a little chat with her second-favourite sniper. 

@smithandrogers

(from @seedsplease) I hope you enjoy! Happy holidays!! 

___

His first mistake had been assuming the camp was empty. 

A single tent - unassuming in the mountain wilderness - did little to set a red flag for Jacob Seed as he approached the lakeside. He’d been trekking for some time, it seemed; a dirtied pack was safely slung over his shoulder and his rifle was snug in his hands as he took his leave from the main trail. 

Maybe, if she cared enough, Finn might’ve wondered why he was so comfortable on his own in the middle of a warzone. There was something inappropriate about it, she supposed; the thought that someone might be most at peace in an environment of violence was disconcerting. But as she watched him settle his pack to the ground and glance out over the eerily calm lake waters, she wondered if his peace wasn’t caused in spite of his solitude, but rather because of it. 

Finn didn’t really let that thought linger long, however; it was difficult to entertain that wormhole when she was busy slamming the butt of her gun into the back of Jacob Seed’s head. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time he woke up. 

Finn had a merry little fire going. Normally, she might’ve been concerned that the smoke would be a homing signal, but she knew the cultists seemed to revel in burning anything they disliked - people included - and her one little smoke trail would barely stand out in the mountainside. 

Her newest companion groaned as he stirred, and she busied herself with the packet of not-quite stale chips while he gathered his surroundings. She could almost pinpoint the exact moment where he figured out what had happened. His head leaned back and a grimaced huff tugged at his lips. 

“Morning, Seed,” Finn said, her expression juxtaposed by the strange image of her holding a proud chip up in her hand. “Hungry?” 

He was silent and stared down at her offering as though it were little more than a bug. 

“Tempting offer,” he said, with more than a hint of dryness. 

If he was attentive, she knew he’d see the way her lips quirked. 

“No?” She shrugged and took a bite. “More for me, I guess.” 

Finn cleared her throat; patting her thighs down as she stood and glanced towards the lake. The sunset was casting a warm shade of light; orange like the campfire that was sparking merrily at her side. There was still a chill in the air and an autumn breeze ensured that an impending winter was never held entirely at bay. 

“Nice view up here, huh?” She said, mostly to break the silence but also to ease into a subtle interrogation. 

She could feel the burn of his eyes on the back of her head. She straightened her shoulders - a bulwark in defence - and turned slightly to flash him a smile that barely reached her eyes. 

“You know I’m just filling the void here.” Finn held her hands up, not a surrender but a placating gesture. Be the good cop, she thought with a fierce determination.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he was testing the strength of the rope that she had bound his hands and feet with; he was pulling from both sides and trying to stretch it to a snap. 

“It’s not much use,” Finn said, mostly out of kindness. “I’m handy with rope.” 

Jacob huffed, but she saw his hands go slack in their bonds and rest back against his thighs. 

“Tie men up often, do you?” He asked; his voice a drawl with a hint of something Southern. 

She couldn’t help a bark of laughter. 

“Not just men,” she replied dryly, unable to resist the quip regardless of whether it was true or not. 

He raised an eyebrow but she heard his quiet chuckle. 

Finn glanced to the side where the man’s pack lay. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she’d rummaged through it; she’d hoped for plans or blueprints of his bunker, but of course, that would’ve required the universe looking on her favourably. If there was anything she’d learned since she’d followed her homesick heart back to Montana, it was that the universe had more than its fair share of humour. 

“Got a lot of food in there,” Finn observed with a shrug in the direction of the pack. “Did you make it yourself?” 

The man watched her closely for a moment; shrewd but unresponsive. She felt a strange prickle at the back of her neck; a primal instinct that told her she was being judged by something very dangerous. Her shoulders subconsciously straightened; making her broader in a way to show the predator that she was most certainly not his prey. 

“That’s not the question you want to ask me,” Jacob finally said, voice low. He gave a half-smile, but there was little mirth in his eyes as he continued. “Go on. I might even give you an answer.” 

She wondered if she ought to stay silent and deny him the satisfaction, but she gave in. 

“Were you tracking me?” She asked, expression unreadable. 

“Yes,” he replied directly, not missing a beat. 

She pursed her lips. 

“Why?” 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Because none of my men would be able to.” He looked at her with something that might’ve bordered on grudging respect. “You know your way around here.” 

Part of her wondered if it was wrong to preen at his words, but it was nice to feel recognised. It reminded her of the first time Grace had complimented one of her kills; the praise from the sharpshooter had given her butterflies, but it felt almost wrong to celebrate a death.

She shook her head and swallowed the dryness in her throat. 

“Were you planning to kill me?” Finn asked, voice hard. 

“Nah,” Jacob replied, surprising her. “Don’t want you dead.” 

“Why?” 

He hummed, leaning back into log she’d placed him by. 

“Why, indeed?” He asked, and she knew that his forthrightness had reached its limit. 

She wanted to scowl, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing a crack in her composure. 

“You gonna kill me?” Jacob asked; expression still coolly smug in a way that might’ve been frustrating if she didn’t recognise it as a mask. 

She didn’t reply; walking over towards the tent where her sleeping bag was rolled out and ready. It was crinkled and a little slippery, but it had been a lucky score from the remnants of the ransacked general goods store. 

“I think you want to,” Jacob continued, voice low and disturbingly close to a croon. “I know you’ve stashed my rifle somewhere; wouldn’t it be poetic for the soldier to die by his own weapon?” 

Finn paused, hand hovering over a rugged blanket. Her fingers shook slightly, and she cursed herself for being so affected by his words. She knew he was projecting and she knew he wanted to unnerve her; to learn the cracks and weaknesses in the armour before they came head to head. 

She snatched up the blanket; straightening up and crossing quickly to his side. 

“For you,” Finn said, not rising to his bait while she covered him with the blanket. “It can get chilly out here, and I don’t exactly want you in my tent.” 

He inclined his head; a small quirk to his lips conceding her point. 

“And yes,” she said, giving him a smile that was slightly too sharp. “I have your rifle. Hope you don’t mind if I take the ammo though; I know a sniper who’d make better use of it.” 

There was a brief moment of silence, and she thought she saw something like careful consideration in his eyes. 

“Armstrong?” Jacob asked, raising an eyebrow. Her silence told him what he needed to know, and he hummed. “She is a good shot. Saw her in action once.” 

Finn frowned. 

“In the military?” She asked, racking her brains to remember whether Grace had mentioned anything like that. He snorted. 

“At a fucking carnival, actually,” Jacob replied, an amused crinkle to his eye. “But you can see the skill in someone anywhere if you’ve got an eye for it.” 

“And you do,” Finn concluded for him, somewhat dryly. 

His lips twitched upwards slightly, and he dipped his head in a lazy nod as an answer.

Finn paused, giving a careful glance back towards her tent. She’d thought to interrogate Seed and leave him in the morning to be found by his cultists - giving her plenty of time to scurry her way back to the valley and the arms of her sharpshooter - but she found herself rather intrigued by the conversation. She believed they’d clash eventually, but for now, it was rather interesting to hear what he had to say when he wasn’t spouting mantras. 

She tugged on an oversized jacket and made her way to the opposite side of the fire. The man watched her carefully through the smoke but didn’t say a word. 

“You know, you kind of remind me of Grace a little bit,” Finn said. “Don’t think she’d like me saying it, mind you. You’re both so focused; so desperate to have an enemy.” She stopped and pursed her lips. “But even after everything your family’s taken from her, Grace decided it’s better to have something to live for, too.” 

“What makes you think I don’t?” He replied, surprising her. 

“You see it. The way she talks, the way she fights. She has everything to live for.” She paused and a hardness came over her expression. “You and your family seem to hurt everything you touch. I almost think you want the world to die. You can’t blame me for thinking you’ve got fuck all to live for.” 

His face was unreadable across the fire, but the prickling feeling on her neck returned as he stared at her. For the first time in their conversation, Finn realised she’d touched on a nerve. 

“I took an axe to a farmer’s head when he hurt my brothers,” Jacob told her, eyes sharp and voice low enough to be a warning. “Don’t go making assumptions about things you don’t know shit about.” 

She narrowed her eyes, a primal part of her wanting to rise to the warning; to bare her claws and challenge him for the audacity of telling her what to do. But the frustrating part of her - the part that wanted to believe in the good of everyone - saw only a brother refusing to let anyone think he didn’t love his family. 

Maybe she could’ve pushed and poked this bear, but she didn’t have the heart for it. 

“Then I guess I’m still right, aren’t I?” Finn finally said, shrugging as she tugged the jacket tighter around her chest. “You’re not too different from Grace, in some ways.” 

He hummed and leaned back, eyes surveying. 

“Well, aren’t you smitten, Deputy?” 

Her cheeks heated, and she hoped the fire disguised it. 

“Oh, we’re definitely not going there.” Finn shook her head and gave a small huff of laughter. 

“There’s no need,” Jacob replied, glancing upwards as an amused little smile pulled at his lips. “Don’t worry; your secret’s safe with me.” 

She snorted. 

“Sorry if I don’t believe that.” 

He cracked a grin, the corner of a canine flashing. 

“Not much of a gossiper, myself,” he replied. “That’s more John’s area of expertise.” 

She could believe that, and she was about to tell him so when there was a rustling from the bushes behind her. Jacob’s expression became deadly serious, but he frowned when he saw her lack of response. 

Finn had recognised the heavy plods and merely raised her eyebrows at Jacob Seed. He frowned; half suspicious and half disturbed. 

“Deputy, I suggest you grab a weapon,” he muttered, glancing over her shoulder. “There’s a bear.” 

The aforementioned bear rounded the campfire logs and promptly slumped down at Finn’s side with a huff. 

“Yeah,” Finn replied to Jacob, smiling innocently as she reached out to scratch under the bear’s collar. “What of it?” 

She almost wished she could take a picture of the priceless expression on his face. 

____

The morning came with a brisk chill, and Finn was sure to keep the fire fed even while she packed away her camp. 

Jacob Seed remained seated by the logs; watching her movements carefully as she prepared to leave. 

“There’s one of your patrols nearby,” Finn said, fastening her gear to her back with a grimace.

She pulled out a flare and winced as she shot it into the sky; leaving a trail of a red beacon above her head. 

Jacob raised an eyebrow. 

“Not gonna leave me to die, Deputy?” He asked, and she wondered if he was surprised. If he was, he didn’t know her well enough. 

“Nah,” she replied, sniffing as she glanced over to the path she was about to set off on. “Not really my style.” She pointed towards a nearby overgrown patch of grass. “Your rifle’s over there. I’m still taking your ammo, though.” 

He hummed but didn’t say anything. 

She took a deep breath and clapped her hands together with an air of finality. 

“Well, I’d best be off,” Finn said, peering down at the man. “Gotta reach the Henbane by evening.” 

It was a lie, and a flimsy one, at that. 

“Say hello to John for me,” Jacob replied dryly, calling her bluff. 

She huffed and rolled her eyes as she turned away from him; walking steadily back onto the trail. Within moments, she knew she wasn’t visible to him anymore. 

There was a rustling off the path, and she looked to the side to see Cheeseburger rubbing his shoulder against a nearby tree. Apparently, bears got itchy when they were made to wait for their deputies. Finn cracked a smile and called for him as they set off; trekking through the trail she knew would lead them to the valley’s border. 

It was well past midday when she finally found herself stumbling down by the river. She was close enough now that she barely hesitated to grab the radio at her hip and turn to a familiar frequency.

“I got you a gift,” Finn said by way of greeting. “Oh?” Grace replied after a beat.

Finn reached up to pat the side of her pack; feeling her stolen goods with pride. 

“How’d you like some new ammo?” She asked, a trace of mischief in her tone. 

“Been shopping have you?” Grace asked wryly, but Finn could hear the smile in her words.

“You could say that,” Finn replied, unable to help her grin. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get there. I had a bit of a camp sleepover with a ginger cultist.” 

There was a pause, and Finn could almost sense the surprise from her girlfriend through the static. 

“Hope you know what you’re doing,” Grace said, with the hint of a sigh. “Surprised you didn’t try and recruit him.” 

Finn knew Grace loved her bleeding heart, for all she pretended otherwise. 

“Nah,” Finn replied, looking towards the valley with a soft smile. “I like my sniper better.” 

#deputy oc #jacob seed #grace armstrong/deputy #cheeseburger #gift: fic #fc5holidayexchange #smithandrogers #submission

[squidpro-quo]

Rain

AN: This time I took the prompt more literally, but I’ve always wanted to have an outside pov of the main three. Inspired by the thought of Zen, Obi and Shirayuki becoming myth and legend someday, and perhaps what comes of that

The rain misted down in between the carnival’s stalls, turning the streets into a vaporous maze and leaving people as hazy outlines in the twilight. Miya clutched her scarf close to her chest, hunched under the small awning at the side of a wine vendor’s cart as she peered into the night in the vain hope that her parents would come within view. 

A rattle of metal came from behind her and she startled away from the noise and further towards the bustling thoroughfare. On so many occasions her mother had drilled it into her head that if she were ever lost, it was better to stay still than to go running on the chance that she’d stumble onto them with sheer, dumb luck. But the shadows behind her felt like they were growing deeper, coalescing into a solid form and the thought chilled her more than her sodden cap ever could. What could she do if something attacked her here? The night felt hostile now, gone was the merriment of the festival still going on only a few feet away, without her parents it  felt like a screen separating her from them. 

“What’s a little miss doing back here?” The voice was smooth and low where it echoed out of the darkness, forcing Miya to squint to try and see anything beyond a silhouette. She froze, surprised that she didn’t feel any further fear at the approaching figure. Perhaps it was because she’d heard the story, known the occasion, but had never thought to believe it. But that was not important, she had a chance now. 

“I lost my mama,” she finally whispered, her back to the light as the shadow crouched down in front of her and reached out a hand. It was solid, the fingers callused where they brushed the leaves from her shawl with a gentle motion. The figure’s clothes were dark as the night, clasped with a pin as bright as a star in the fabric of the sky while his eyes glowed like a cat’s. 

“I have a friend who can help, alright? Visit the lights at the end of the row, he’ll show you the way.” His smile was crooked, but the kind that cut through fear and let someone in on a joke, and she knew that it was right. 

By the time she turned at the corner of the stall, to glimpse one last look, the shadow had disappeared, taking his nightcloak with him, as silent as they say.

She followed the row of vendors down to the quay, where the lights were so bright her father had said they could be seen all the way up at the castle. The passersby stopped and stared, faces turned up to the floating candles and glimmers of reflection from the colored glass lanterns moored to the ground. It was dazzling, capturing even the most determined of festival attendees to stop and watch a while. The rain dampened it not at all, only lending another surface for the sparkling vista to dance in, each flame protected against it while it shone forth. 

Miya wasn’t able to resist either, faltering in her steps and forgetting the shadow’s voice for only a minute as her eyes filled with the glittering light. But as she turned to point one out to her mother, she remembered the absence and began to run, hoping to make up the time lost by a hurry taken now. Her haste made her reckless and she stumbled into a lantern, knocking a panel free and leaving her with pain blooming across her finger. 

“There now, are you being chased?” This voice was milder, but nonetheless mischievous, and a hand on her shoulder kept her from falling to the muddy ground. 

Miya’s breath caught in her throat, in part from how close she had come to sprawling in the street and because she had never thought it could be true. Surely, one was a lucky chance, two was a miracle. 

She looked behind her and saw eyes as bright as the lanterns, a brilliance lying across his shoulders and cascading towards the ground like a waterfall of snow, cloak dissolving in shining sparks  before it ever reached the dirt beneath his shoes. 

“Your friend sent me. I’ve lost my papa. I forgot for a moment and…” She stared at the beads of red blossoming from her finger to mix with the fine rain coating them both. Although, for her companion it seemed to be drawn in to form a faint aurora of mist about his outline, washing his edges as he let out a slight laugh. 

“He sent you, did he? Don’t worry, I know who’ll be the perfect one to bring them back to you. And to mend that cut of yours.” He crouched, the luminous gaze upon her with a kind glow. “Go along until you smell sweet, hot cider. She’ll be there.” 

Miya nodded, dumbstruck, and it was only when he gave an encouraging nod that her feet regained their steadiness and she struck out for the food quarter of the festival’s vast spread. This time, she didn’t look back, knowing he and his moonbright cloak had vanished already. 

She had grown hungry and tired by now, pushing through the crowds and craning her neck above the high shoulders for any sight of the barrels that always signalled the piping flood of cider that she’d so loved to sip with her parents. In the midst of the damp night and the scores of people, she had doubted she would be able to pick out the smell of it without being up close to the counters, but she could no longer doubt it when the aroma wafted over her and she felt safe. Pausing by the fountain in the center where the crowd’s eddy pushed her, she slumped onto the rim and wondered how she would pick out anyone in such a rush. 

“Ah, why are you hurt and alone, dear?” The voice was as sweet as the cider’s smell, and just as warming to hear. Two hands cupped her own, the feeling akin to when she’d her fingers through the summer-ripe grass, and the woman ran her thumb over the cut with a soft sigh. Her cloak was as red as her hair, flowing like the leaves in autumn over her knees and the relief Miya felt was enough to make her cry. She could go no further, her parents felt as far away as the castle and she could only take comfort in the woman’s firm hold of her to keep her upright. 

“I c-can’t find my parents,” she confessed, one more time, looking into the woman’s apple-green eyes and searching for the promise of the end as she’d been taught would come. 

“You have found me, and I assure you they will find you too,” she said, tucking Miya’s hair back under her scarf and kissing her forehead with the softest touch. 

As soon as Miya closed her eyes at the gesture and opened them again, she saw her parents from across the fountain, searching the crowd with frantic expressions. She bounded along the edge as fast as she could, skirting the crowd until she flung herself at her father’s legs. 

“Miya! Where have you been? Oh thank the stars.” Her mother leaned down to sweep her into a hug, even as Miya couldn’t find the words fast enough to express what she’d been through.

“I met the Red Dawn and the White Moon! And the Dark Night, they all led me back here!” She pointed across the fountain, but in her excitement she’d forgotten what had happened before and the woman and her dawnfire cloak were gone. As was the cut on her hand. 

“Darling, I know I’ve read that story to you too many times but this is just a festival for them. You can’t expect to meet them, we must celebrate them ourselves!” Her father hoisted her onto his shoulders, perhaps to give her a view to distract her and perhaps to keep her from being lost to sight again, but all the same, Miya didn’t let the banners of red, white and black distract her from the truth of what she’d seen that night.

#answeek2019 #answeek #day2 #i thought i wouldn't have time to write this today but whew #i imagine them as a triad of mythical figures #not quite sure if they straddle the line into deities yet but certainly their stories are repeated enough that they come and visit #one night a year #to see what's become of their story in their absence #rather gen this time even though i still love the ot3 #my writing

[reylofanfictionanthology]

THE REYLO FANFICTION ANTHOLOGY ST. VALENTINE’S DAY LOVE FEST

This year, to celebrate St. Valentine’s Day, we wanted to show the Reylo Writing Community a little bit of love by hosting a Reylo Fanfiction St. Valentine’s Day Love Fest.

We will accept recommendations for this project until the end of February.  You can find details about how to submit a recommendation to the project here.

LOVE FEST LIST #5/?

REYLO COMMUNITY RECOMMENDATIONS

Starlight, Your Memories by NatMatryoshka

Summary: "Ben Solo was ten years old when, in the outskirts of the capital, a little girl was born. Her parents called her Rey and, after she was old enough to walk, they left her in the care of Master Luke Skywalker and vanished without a trace soon after. No one knew who they were, or why they chose an odd hermit as guardian of their only daughter, but many could smell the scent of cheap wine in the father’s breath: they were two derelicts, and maybe they had realized in time they couldn’t do anything good for their daughter. Rey was a Sensitive, just like Ben. The Force had entwined their lives a long time before."

Recommendation by @the-witch-of-the-web: “Because it has a wonderful fairytale vibe to it, and the author is great at portraying the inner turmoil and subtle feelings of the main characters. The style is great, considering they're not a native English speaker, and I'd really love to see more recognition for their stories. This one in particular offers a unique and amazing storyline, I also love the way they describe the locations in which the story takes place.”

Tokens by Trish47

Summary: A year after Leia's death, Rey invites Ben to Endor to make his peace.

Recommendation by @ceallaigheirinn: “This is truly a beautiful piece in its quiet agony wrapped in comfort. The detente was perfect with its shared promise to each other as they part. I am a sucker for remembrance fics, and this one is perfect.”

I don't want (to set the world on fire) by OccasionallyCreative

Summary: Rey goes on a mission to answer a distress signal on a Force-sensitive alien planet and finds something that might just save her if it doesn't lead to her ruin.

Recommendation by @apisa-b: “This canonverse story pulls the reader into a fever dream, in which the Force is kind, but at the same time monstrous in how it imposes its will.”

Nothing but Themselves by Knight_of_Cookies

Summary: Sometimes what you ask for is not what you actually wanted. Rey wanted a family. Kylo wanted Rey. Now an adopted father is dead and Kylo is captured for it. Kylo is Rey's prisoner, and her family does not take such a death lightly. Vengrat'tua. There will be vengeance. Pirunir Sur'haaise. Make him pay for what he did.

Recommendation by @persimonne: “The writing is something very different, direct and "cinematic": while reading images pop directly into your brain and they're so vivid! The plot features prisoner!Kylo vs Rey living with a brand new adoptive family and working as a mechanic.”

echoes (again) by reflectionslie (fallsink)

Summary: again and again, she slips from his grasp like moonlight (reincarnation au where ben seeks her through their past lives and maybe, just maybe this time this time will be the last) [prev name: it goes round and round (everything falling)]

Recommendation by @politicalmamaduck: “It is so beautifully written and such a gorgeous take on the idea of soulmates and reincarnation, so perfectly suited to Reylo. If you loved the art Anthology's 25 Lives Project, this is definitely the fic for you--it takes the same poem as its inspiration and theme!”

The Tale of Blue Ben by flypaper_brain

Summary: Some escaped goats and a chance encounter land Rey in the middle of a fairy tale. She is the happy ending. And she is not alone.

Recommendation by @leofgyth: “Ben is a dragon! He's heartbreakingly wonderful. And Rey is a witch, a competent witch. And there are goats. And a spell to break (maybe more than one spell). It's just very sweet.”

RFFA WRITERS SELF RECOMMENDATIONS

The Water Packed my Pockets Full of Stones by LilibethSonar

Summary: When Finn turned the car she saw Ben in the rearview mirror. Standing by the house, unmoving as if he wasn’t… alive. She didn’t cry on their way back to the bay: lichens and rocks outside her window were really picturesque, that’s all. When Rey saw the ocean again, her emotions ebbed. The sight of the Marauder calmed her completely, taking away her uncertainty. The truth was bitter; he brought it on himself.

“It's the first long-ish fic in English that I've written and finished. I had so much fun writing it, and I hope that reading it can bring someone joy. Also, worldbuilding.”

In Un'Altra Vita by NatMatryoshka

Summary: "Sometimes, after hundreds of failures you finally get something precious, don’t you believe it?” Rey, a reporter, falls in love with Venezia and its Carnival. Ben Solo, a photographer, starts to dream about a mysterious boy and a world he doesn't know. Maybe their souls are more similar than they think.

“I loved to write about Venezia and its Carnival. It's one of my favourite places to visit and its magic fills every corner: I thought it was the perfect place to set a Reylo fic about dreams and alternative realities. I loved to travel through Venezia with my imagination, I hope readers would love to do it, too!”

Scars by punkeraa

Summary: a smuggler!Ben x jedi!Rey AU Certain scars run deeper than others, leaving behind marks on the soul, irreversibly altering the person forever. Ben Solo drinks to drown demons he'd rather run away from than face head on, a traumatic event in his youth that still tightly grips him sixteen years later. Rey scavenges, starves, and suffers at the hands of Unkar Plutt in the Jakku wasteland waiting for her mother, anchored to the sands with a promise and a half forgotten tune. When the drunkard and the scavenger cross paths, their scars refuse to be ignored any longer. With an enemy lurking in the shadows and ready to strike, they must work together to confront their deep seated fears and grow beyond. A story about wanting revenge. A story about running away and not dealing with one’s trauma and pain. A story about acknowledging one’s anger while actively dealing with the painful scars life inflicts upon us.

“i love this fic because it was born out of intense trauma as a way for me to deal with it. it's a smuggler!Ben AU but (i believe) pretty different from most of the ones out there. in this story, Ben is an alcoholic suffering from PTSD after watching his parents murdered in front of him as a young child; he wants to run away from his trauma and drink himself silly rather than confronting the pain. Rey is stuck on Jakku b/c she's afraid of being truly on her own and would rather deal with Plutt's abuse than leave in case her mother actually comes back. this is one of my more inventive stories, introducing a new villain as well as Rey's mother. both of these characters represent halves of my own trauma and how i dealt with it, and their journeys in the story somewhat mirror my own non-linear path towards healing. there's a trigger warning for alcohol abuse but that's pretty much it. i've poured a lot of myself into this fic and would just like if others can read it and see what they think”

Serendipity by Ceallaigh

Summary: When she had decided to start shepherding the Adept, Rey had made a vow to herself to help them all—even those imprisoned by their own internal darkness. Camouflaged with the cuff, Kylo would never know that Hux’s war dog was closing in on him until it was too late. That was one death she didn’t want weighing down on her conscience. She’d had the opportunity twice to kill him, but she was still convinced his life was not hers to take. The Force still had a plan for Ben Solo, that she was certain, and securing his safety was just as important and making sure the little girl she sought made it off world and survived as well.

“I’m a sucker for the Ben Solo I’m exile genre, and this is a riff on self-imposes exile/on the run. This inenof the first fic I have completed where he truly is starting to see himself more as Ben Solo and not Kylo Ren. It was a prompt fic, and I adored the prompts! Saw it as a chance to work with a new character and to do some world building!”

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #valentine's day love fest #rffa writers #mod post #photo edit #love fest list

[rchvnt]

                     hshqtask030  //  INDIA-RAJASTHAN.

(   i. dheem ta dare   // ii.  albela sajan  // iii. baawre    // iv. tu hai   // v. chale chalo  // vi. taal se taal (western)   // vii. dhakka laga bukka  //  viii.  dil se re   //  ix. gallan goodiyaan   )

okay so AS USUAL, india is complicated af, so i basically put all the more “traditional” music at the start and it gets progressively more modern and “fusion”-ish towards the end. god i thought this would be easier for me than sweden, but no this was worse. at least i had my friend helping so there’s more info. also disclaimer, i don’t know what rohan actually likes to listen to in his downtime aside from a couple of these so bear with me. the only reason why i have so many tracks is bc i have been accumulating these over the course of 2 years rip, i actually whittled them down so it wouldn’t be too crazy.

i.  dheem ta dare  ||  so this is a quintessential classical piece that every indian trained in classical dance or has witnessed it will know and enjoy. if you listen closely you might wonder what language the dude is singing. it’s not a language at all. see for western music you have ‘ do re mi fa so la ti do’. indian classical music have the exact same notes, but pronounced as ‘ sa re ga ma pa da ni sa’. the key difference here is that indians also have verbal representation of the beat, like the drum beats. it’s called a tala, and instructors use this to signal the strength and vigour to which a dancer will perform a given step, like a composer. so what the guy is singing is a mixture of the musical notes and the beat verbals. 

this piece is meant to herald newcomers to a kingdom or a space or at the start of the show. it is meant to be energetic, but also elegant and majestic. it’s also the kind of thing performed when foreigners or potential in-laws arrive to a compound for the first time. there is a gift-exchanging ceremony, and a display of everything that palace/compound has to offer. 

ii.  albela sajan   ||  this is also an old classic, reimagined for a somewhat recent movie, without making it too modern because the music director wanted to retain the tradition and the old rajasthani elements in it. 

these lyrics basically welcome a spouse or a loved one home, exalted with pomp and celebration. it must be noted that there are both male and female voices in the chorus because rajput men were not the only ones who travelled in the old days.

iii.  baawre   ||    i couldn’t find a better quality vid of this, but watch it if you wanna see hrithik dance :P. so this is also distinctly rajasthani. the whole thing was composed and filmed to depict an amplified vibe of a typical rajasthani carnival, its colours, costumes and rajasthan’s emphasis on circles. my favourite part comes in at 2:45, the melody gets stuck in my head.

see lyrics + translation here.

iv.   tu hai   ||   this is a love song. ignore the weird tribal dancing it has nothing to do with the song because the music is modern, but used for like... a period film? if you do watch the video, rohan’s mom makes an appearance throughout, (esp @ 1:06). also rohan actually likes this song... probably. he dedicates it to his plants.

the most repeated verse (the first one) translates to: 

you are, my entire world me and my entire love are only for you you are, like each and every colour in the world like a melody in the everlasting breeze it’s only you, only you

but i feel like it’s significant to rohan because of the last verse

Even after coming close, why are you still silent? Tell me this at least, who are you to me? My eyes are speaking even though I'm silent Listen with your eyes and you'll know who I am

v.   chale chalo   ||     if i were a filmmaker and i had to shoot the first impression of rohan’s family + rajput extended family. with their staunch grace, their might. their determination. their extremely well-built demeanours, their inner strength. their family culture, the forebodingness of it all (in a good way), this would be it. it starts out so hard-fisted, and then the softer instruments come out in between, and you see the art in that, before rolling into the main theme again. it pushes on. there is hopefulness too (04:35), the last one and a half minutes emphasises the whole rajasthani thing about circles again bc that’s the part they circle the lead dancers while spinning. it is a SIGHT to behold. 

the lyrics are super accurate and empowering too see the translation here

vi.    taal se taal (western)   ||  this is a western fusion mix with a folk song. this is basically here because rohan actually listens to it. his sister performed a classical fusion dance to this once when they opened one of their palaces in udaipur for the people to watch. it was electric. his jaw dropped. people kneeled when she was done. this is a custom. if it was just an ok performance they would have just clapped.

there is only 1 verse repeated which is translated: 

My heart is restless My eyes are looking at the path My heart is restless My eyes are looking at the path My life is a chaos There is no tune nor rhythm Please come my beloved, come, come, come Harmonise your rhythm with my rhythm vii.  dhakka laga bukka  ||  might sound like soldiery rajput music, but it’s not, it’s not rajasthani, just a general indian modern song. it’s about anarchy even though the lyrics don’t explicitly state it. it’s about youth taking a terrible situation into their own hands instead of waiting for solutions to happen. of fighting a rigged, corrupt system. it’s about rohan and his crew and what they do. it’s about helping people, not a country. rohan listens to this when he’s trying to focus on something or when he’s working out.

viii.  dil se re   ||   if from the vibe alone you can guess what this is about you get a prize. an actual prize. as in i will make you something. FIRST PERSON TO GET IT RIGHT. ANY TAKERS? ( and to the person who already knows, you don’t count. )

ix.  gallan goodiyaan   ||   ok i put this here for a bunch of reasons. this is an accurate representation of MODERN indian celebrations, like not everything is traditional and archaic. they do have parties on giant yachts, and they do have loads of fun and there are other ethnicities there too. and this is genuinely how they would dance to celebrate at an engagement party or post traditional wedding ceremony reception party or whatever. like this is not exaggerated, indian parties are wild af, i’ve been to one of these, it was for a wedding... it’s... insane. and i died.

my favourite part about this whole video is that it was filmed with a SINGLE camera in a SINGLE take. imagine how much every single actor and extra rehearsed to get it right so the cheering at the end was not acting, it was real. 

lyrics + translation here BONUS: this is totally irrelevant but i just really like this song , 

#hshqtask030 #if i can write an essay for this why can't i finish my family task?????? #if ya'll actually listen to each song + read each desc u deserve a cookie #this took me 3 hours wow

[ppeacherine]

Fairs and Fairs (Suzaku, Rolo [CG])

I wrote 5k words on on a rarepair from a show I haven’t watched in literal years.

I’m so good LMAO. Mostly a rolo-perspective third person because I feel more comfortable writing him versus writing Suzaku, oof.

“I don’t think you trust me, Lord Kururugi,” Rolo says coyly, narrowing his eyes and leaning back against the make-shift counter of fold-up tables for the carnival tent. A reckless use of his Geass for certain, but Suzaku nearly jumping out of his skin in surprise was worth the risk of reprimand. It wasn’t like he hadn’t used it for worse— “Coming to campus like this…”

“R-Rolo! Damnit, don’t—” Blinking quickly, he snatches a napkin from the table and covers his over-full mouth of funnel-cake samples. Knight of Seven dies by cake while in disguise, god, he turns on heel to glance about the fairgrounds… but, as expected, no one has noticed they lost any time at all.

The tent staff are just as confused at Rolo’s sudden appearance, but he’d played the part of mouse for so long they’d assume he was already there. It wasn’t like he stood out in a crowd anyways, or that people were prone to noticing him for being anything that wasn’t being Lelouch’s younger brother… which, the thought brings Suzaku’s brows down.

“Shouldn’t you be with… Lelouch…?”

“He’s back at the apartment,” a nonchalant answer with an equally nonchalant shrug that puts a frown to Suzaku’s face, “So I thought I would… ah, hmm, make an appearance for student council?” Rolo’s tone is too sweet, his eyes too big, and he slinks past the Knight of Seven as if his being here were the most innocuous thing in the world.

Turning to reluctantly follow after the younger man, Suzaku calls after, “Doing what? You’re supposed to keep him under surveillance–this isn’t really--”

“He’s puking, probably,” he must have sensed Suzaku’s eyes bug, and he casts a flat look over his shoulder in response while ferreting them through the crowd, “He has the flu. He’s not in danger. I gave him medicine. I’ve already taken care of everything, including scheduling an appointment for him to get a shot next season,” he recites it like a laundry list, obviously tired of playing keeper.

For a moment, Suzaku almost mentions that such a thing was Sayoko’s responsibility, but—that’s hardly the present they live in now, isn’t it? He goes still for a moment, a gaggle of students pushing past his shoulders. Here he was, on the Ashford University campus, and… everything was so wrong.

He was wrong, really, wearing shades and a coat he hadn’t pulled out of his closet since the last outing with Euphie. And now…

“Lord Kururugi, you’ll catch flies,” Rolo offers primly (receiving another grimace).

He takes a few wide strides to close the gap, grasping the smaller man’s bicep to push him through the crowd, “Don’t call me that out here. I’m pretty sure everyone knows Lelouch’s younger brother isn’t really best of friends with the Knight of Seven,”

“Right. That’s Lelouch’s--” Reflexively, Rolo’s hands fly up to catch Suzaku’s as the other reels. The locking of fingers about wrists, a tangle of initiation-versus-counter, pushes them haphazardly through the crowd. Rolo’s been in enough fights to know it isn’t worth resisting someone with this much strength over him, though. He ragdolls.

A girl snaps watch it, and the darling Knight of Rounds gives her an immediate apology—

Before slamming Rolo against the brick wall of one of the craft sheds. Now, they’re parallel to the crowd. Festival goers pour through the cobbled, blossom-laden main street to their left, the tents forming a makeshift alley about the shed that ensures their spat-slash-rendezvous remains unseen from the student gawking.

The Britannian gives a small wince before levelling his gaze up at the other. Unflinching, really, and it reminds Suzaku of the way his officers used to look at him as a recruit. The way the captured Black Knights turned their eyes at him, full of scorn and betrayal.

“Your mouth is new, Rolo,” Suzaku’s lips part one more time, only to purse tightly as he relaxes his grip on Rolo’s blazer.

Although his hands are unable to move away entirely. They’ve been pinned underneath Rolo’s own, and he only cocks his head to the side, as if this were a natural arrangement. This is the way one was meant to talk to their superior officers.

At this proximity, Suzaku wonders if Rolo has ever worn an expression that didn’t look like a wounded animal attempting to hide its injuries. Everything about him is soft, and maybe those eyes are just wide enough, empty as they appear under duress, to uncomfortably remind him of Euphemia’s.

“…Let go of me. Please.”

There’s no backtalk (pleasant surprise). Rolo releases his grip and quietly fixes his jacket. He’s unperturbed by the violent turn, and it leaves Suzaku wondering what in god’s name made him that way.

(not that he has to reach too far to guess)

“Your temper is new, Suzaku.”

Maybe if they weren’t who they were, maybe if it wasn’t now, the retort would be funny. It would be bitter banter between friends that look like not-quite friends to the uninitiated. The sort of attitude Lelouch gave Milly at her reckless behavior as student body president (and at her attempts to wrangle him and Shirley together before senior year).

But it wasn’t, and it couldn’t be. He knew coming here was a mistake, during the university’s cherry blossom celebration nonetheless, but nostalgia and melancholy and loneliness brought him here.

And it’s that mixture that keeps Suzaku locked uncomfortably in place. There really wasn’t any salvaging this interaction (and frankly, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. Rolo was strange to put it lightly. At least, Rolo Haliburton was strange. Rolo Lamperouge was a different persona entirely, and it sours his stomach) but...

“I’m… sorry. It’s, the whole thing has me on edge. Lots of people… This wasn’t easy, Rolo,” He takes a step back to clear the air, and still the rise in his pulse.

Rolo seems unconcerned with the apology. He’d probably received half a dozen like it in the past, but Suzaku pushes the thought to the back of his mind, “Just, don’t call me anything regarding the Knights of Rounds here. And… I don’t want to—”

“Hear about Lelouch,” Rolo finishes definitively, “Understood.”

A beat, and then his voice lilts in a way that might have Shirley or Milly tripping over themselves at the sheer sugar intake of cuteness, “Ah, Suzaku, are you going to go back to the fair, then? Besides, I’m sure big brother—”

Suzaku drowns out the rest, staring in shock, awe, and more than a touch of horror. Lelouch was good at theatrics and making a show of things – Zero was ample proof of that – changing from one charismatic persona to the next. But this was… this was something else entirely.

Rolo Haliburton was strange, but Rolo Lamperouge might be worse if he keeps this up.

He’s not like that all the time is he?

There’s a nagging curiosity in Rolo that wonders why Suzaku is here as they walk. Part of him believes it’s a matter of trust or disrespect, like he’d mentioned before: that Suzaku didn’t believe some pretty, boyish assassin would be able to maintain a demure enough front to repress Lelouch’s memories of Nunnally and keep an eye out for red flags that said Zero was back. That he saw Rolo as a threat to the mission, or worse, a threat to Lelouch, given Suzaku’s obvious prickly (yet very protective) disposition toward the topic. His ultimate orders were to kill Lelouch if Zero awakened, anyways, so maybe it was to – god forbid – stop him from doing so.

Still, a Knight of Round should be prowling Pendragon, or by now, the battlefields in Europe. A knight that knew about Geass, furthermore, should not be this close to the University. The Emperor (or maybe even V.V.) would have better use for them than this, so Suzaku must be on leave of some kind.

It was completely beyond Rolo. To have the ability to just… stop, let alone do what he saw as essentially shirking duty.

He gives Suzaku a sideways glance, ill-timed since their eyes catch and Suzaku bizarrely turns away with the makings of a blush on his face.

This was another aspect of Suzaku he could not make heads or tails of in their interactions. Certainly, Rolo had been taught to use proximity and emotional plays to lull targets into a false sense of security, but small hiccups in their (few) interactions had led him to believe he didn’t really need to try with Suzaku.

It was like he wanted to believe Rolo wasn’t an assassin. That he was just some melancholy-but-very-sweet university freshman. That Lelouch wasn’t even part of their main reason for meeting, and Rolo hadn’t fished him out of prison in a foreign state.

Maybe Suzaku was just very awkward, and this was his default state of being. Or, maybe he was being too critical of someone who was obviously not meant for more delicate works of subterfuge. Considering his rough reaction to a bit of cheek regarding his old relationships, Suzaku was someone who was led more by their heart than their brain.

There was more there, too. The fact that he apologized for being rightly offended at Rolo’s toying was strange.

“Have you—well. No, that’s probably assumptive-“

He widens his gaze, attempting to cover up that incredibly telling, pursed look he got on his face when analyzing someone too hard, “hmm?”

“I just wanted to know if you’d been to a cherry blossom festival before. Or, any festival… They told me you were from—you know. But they’d never given me any other details.”

A turn of his head signals his confusion at the cautious phrasing, and he pockets both his hands, “No. There’s been a few on campus, and Milly – not Lelouch – has begged me to go,” a heavy sigh before he says more concisely, “I don’t like crowds.”

I don’t like being smothered, as wonderful as the positive attention from Lelouch was. It was fake. It was empty. It didn’t mean anything to or for Rolo.

“…This is your first one? Ever?”

Another shrug, and Suzaku finally forces his knees to unlock from their shock to catch up again, “Wait, come on. Let me get you something. This one is my favorite, anyways, and after earlier…”

He wishes he could say he’s seen enough romantic comedies to know where this is going. At some point there would be a large stuffed animal involved, if he remembers correctly. But he didn’t need Suzaku’s help to win a balloon popping game to acquire a stupidly overfluffed monkey, or lion, or whatever they had in stock at university knock-off fairs. Nor did he have any interest in acquiring them.

But he hasn’t seen enough. At least, he hasn’t seen any that involve knights and their traumatized best friends. Nor did they involve assassins, undercover agents, or other obviously dangerous motifs.

Really, he’d only seen one romantic comedy at Shirley’s insistence, but he can’t regurgitate that information quickly enough to stop Suzaku from pushing them onward. Rolo Lamperouge was bashful, but Rolo Haliburton, at this moment, was tongue-tied into a state of bewilderment.

They’re just flowers. Pink flowers.

They sort of reminded him of Euphemia li Britannia’s hair in the back of his mind as he tries to quickly pull up a mental file on how he’s supposed to respond to such a social cue.

Yes, he looks up at Suzaku as the other maintains a polite sort of bodily-shield to keep them motivating through the crowd of petal-enraptured students as pink twisted through the air like confetti.

Suzaku was someone that was led more by their heart than their brain.

What a shame.

“…Lor—Suzaku. I don’t know how to eat this,” he says numbly, staring at the multicolored, circular treats stuffed on a stick like a pastel aesthetic corndog. An inspective squeeze tells him it’s too sticky for his personal taste, and if he were more considerate as a person he might feel bad for the briefly dejected look on Suzaku’s face.

“It’s just like eating anything else on a stick. You… Just put it in your mouth,” and because he really has to sell it, “it’s sweet, it’s good, and no viewing is complete without hanami dango.”

He refrains from pointing out that this stand – and the bench near it – are the furthest possible things from the row of cherry trees on the main drag. All they’re viewing is other people viewing the blossoms. That, and the crushed, wilted remains of what petals have blown too far away from the road.

“Just putting it in your mouth isn’t advice that should be dispensed… liberally,” Rolo returns plainly, disregarding Suzaku in favor of reaching to peel one of the – no, he raises a hand to prevent Suzaku from once again invading his space (which only slows him momentarily).

“Haha, well, I mean, yes! But, hang on, you picked it up upside down,”

“This is really complicated for a rice ball,”

“Not a rice ball. Rice flour. Pounded. My freshman year here – well, sophomore too – I helped make some,” Suzaku says warmly, finally tucking into his own treat, “Still have all my fingers intact,”

“Piloting would be hard without all of them, yes,” the dango is gummy in his mouth, and a mixture of good manners and self-loathing stops him from spitting it out. It’s not overly sweet, but it’s not bland either. He can’t place it, exactly, and the proper way of eating it reminded him of the tanghulu he’d gotten on the streets during missions in China.

He ate that the wrong way too, in hindsight—carefully picking it apart to put the pieces in his mouth.

By the time Rolo is on the final one, despite still trying to pinpoint exactly what flavor it is, he’s decided he likes them.

Suzaku gets them two more, looking considerably more delighted with Rolo’s company.

“Did the swim club get stuck doing something… awful again?” Suzaku asks, tilting this way and that to better peer into the tents. He hadn’t seen any glimpse of what was arguably the most popular club on campus (he’s sure there’s only one reason for that, and unfortunately it wasn’t because of Shirley’s phenomenal butterfly stroke). Ordinarily they’d be on the center stage, but it’s weirdly empty. That sinking feeling hits his stomach again.

“Mm? No, they’re… Managing one of the game tents,” Rolo gestures in some general direction, grabbing Suzaku before he can wander too close, “You can’t be seen here. Not by them.”

Right… Well, there had to be something they could do other than eat. Not that the food was bad (as bad as it was for their stomachs), but an Ashford University fair wasn’t complete without a nightmarish free-for-all of a game. Maybe Milly had finally toned it down some? He smiles at the thought, glancing away and—

Rolo knows what he’s spotted before his mouth opens.

Damn you, Shirley.

“Oh! Over here,” not that Suzaku is waiting for Rolo to follow after him, “That’s cute, they even have stuffed mascots.”

The stand is simultaneously identical to those around it, and yet very different. The colors are a typical mint green and pastel pink (how they afforded to color coordinate an entire festival is beyond Rolo. He assumes the alumni must be beyond loaded), a few streamers hanging down over the “counter” that was placed in front of a board of similarly colored balloons.

He knows where this is going. It doesn’t need to go there.

Right when he gets ready to activate his Geass, one of the Student Activities Council members throws their arm around his shoulder and disrupts the whole process. “Rolo! You actually made it for once, that’s—guys this is a miracle, look at him,” they pull away, doing some overly dramatic gesture that for some stupid reason requires them to do what Rolo can only describe as an upside-down dab.

“Oh! And who’s hiding behind those glasses, huh?” Mia asks, running fingers through lavender hair before turning her sly squint to Rolo, “boyfriend?”

God. He can’t believe Suzaku is laughing at this. He also can’t believe his face hasn’t somehow turned inside out with the sheer amount of concentrated sourpuss contained within. He’s only rescued by the third tent attendant – this one he doesn’t recognize from any particular club – “If it Is, let’s not terrorize him too badly. That’s just mean.”

“Y… Yes. How—how well have you been doing?”

“Aw, come on. You don’t ask about the bottom line during the festival, council-boy,” Mia sets her hands on her hips in a mock-haughty fashion, “But! If you really gotta know, it’s been slow.”

“Nobody here has enough hand-to-eye coordination to win one of the big prizes. But hey! Free stuffed animals for us,” the SAC member makes pistol fingers, just as Suzaku opens his mouth despite Rolo’s efforts to will him not to.

“That bad? I think I might be able to take a few off your hands,” Anya or Gino might like one, at least. The mascot of the university was��� strange – some sort of lion-mermaid that didn’t have any official name as much as the entire student body called it “The Cryptid.” Supposedly, it was from Milly’s coat of arms, but it was just as likely she’d picked the first unsettling mythological creature she’d saw on Google.

He missed it here.

It’s a dart game, and once the two men are situated side by side to compete (with the trio of tent runners watching in eager anticipation) Suzaku tries to make small talk.

“Could you clean this place out?”

“Absolutely. It’s… It’s not hard,” Rolo glances at the other students, torn between which persona he’s supposed to be using. A loud pop takes him out of his thoughts, and with a grimace he reluctantly joins in the turn-taking, “You only have to aim, inhale—exhale, throw.”

“Oof, remind me not to cross him,” and Suzaku smiles at the spectating words as much as he frowns on the inside. Every time he began to believe he was just a guest on the campus, that they were all just regular students, he remembers reality. They’re all stuck in a dream-like haze where their memories have been permanently altered, and his hand falls from its ready position.

Even he wasn’t free from the vice-grip of Geass, deep down. Try as he might to resist it. Try as Euphie might—

By the time he’s left autopilot, Rolo is holding a stuffed creature only a mother could love and regarding him with what isn’t quite contempt – but what definitely isn’t fondness. “You missed the last three.”

“I did? How—” he could take a running leap at someone and kick them head on, but he couldn’t throw darts without concentrating?

“Don’t worry about it! You still get… goodies!” Mia’s enthusiastic voice cuts in, presenting Suzaku with a hand-woven bracelet adorned with an Ashford University crest charm, “not as good goodies, but, you get goodies.”

The skin on his palm crawls while he looks down at the small accessory placed into his hand. He needed to get rid of this before—

“Ah, Mia, he’s,” Rolo huffs, “don’t tease him too badly. He’s my guest, after all. But—oh, Milly needed me for something, I just remembered. I’m, I’m really sorry, you guys,” He looks so sad at having to leave for his made-up appointment while gently ushering Suzaku away.

Once they’re out of sight and earshot, Suzaku asks to exchange gifts. By now, he’s decided that Gino would definitely prefer the stuffed animal over Anya. It’s what he focuses on to keep his thoughts straight. Rolo seems indifferent to the exchange.

At least until Suzaku gently ties the bracelet around his wrist with a beaming smile and a thank-you.

“So they… Really don’t notice any difference…?” Suzaku asks hesitantly, patting the stuffed mascot situated on the bench between the two of them on the head. To have replaced someone to one person is simple, but to replace someone to an entire campus? That was harrowing, and it made his blood run cold to think the power of Geass was immense enough to drown the memory of so many individuals.

(Not that he could be so surprised. Euphemia had committed unspeakable horrors against that same power.)

The gazebo is quiet, and most of the students have headed back to the dormitories or campus apartments for the evening. The grove here was oak and maple, the architecture a redux of the Britannian capital. For a moment, Suzaku is so displaced with the chilled feeling he almost believes he’s back at the gardens in Pendragon, and Rolo’s quiet voice pushes him out of his stupor and puts his mind solidly back into his body.

Rolo doesn’t think Suzaku wants the answer, worrying his index and thumb nails together.

“No, they don’t. If I don’t act out of character for their perception of Nunnally, they don’t notice. There are no emotions to trigger for most of them. Lelouch…” he pauses, reading Suzaku’s expression before he continues, “… You saw what happened with Julius Kingsley. No Geass is infallible. If I were to act too uncanny, then Lelouch’s subconscious would rebel,”

“He would remember Nunnally. Would he remember everything else?”

Ripping away Lelouch’s sister, relocating her to the relatively safe hand of the emperor… that was removing Lelouch’s motivation to become Zero. But wouldn’t that be enough? He has to wonder where the desire to be Zero ended, and where it began. If it was all for Nunnally, then wouldn’t it repeat with Rolo?

But then, he supposes Rolo Lamperouge doesn’t want distant dreams like peace or harmony for that reason. He wonders if Rolo Haliburton would either.

“Mm. The Geass would come undone entirely,” Rolo says simply, continuing to pick at his nails.

They sit in a more comfortable silence than the last, at least until Suzaku offers Rolo his coat against the encroaching night air. Spring here wasn’t terribly warm, and the nights were worth putting at least a light coat on. The breeze had cooled considerably during sunset, and Suzaku tells himself he’s being polite against further uncomfortable recollections of his last serendipitous encounter with someone.

“…How old are you?”

God, why did he say that?

Suzaku sputters for a few seconds, trying to repair what he perceives as damage (and what Rolo perceives as nothing) as he fixes his blazer, “I mean, you don’t look older than Nunnally and she was a year ahead because of her test scores. So, a Freshman in college when she was just a senior in high school-“

“I didn’t go to school.”

“Ah… I, I’m sorry--? No. I am sorry,” he reaffirms, expression steeling to better fit the symbol he was to the populace. The Empire used everything, and it spared nothing and no one, and… He knew that. He knew that when he had to put Lelouch on his knees before the emperor – twice – but he’d never really encountered what happened when the hand of Britannia (the hand of Geass) was all someone knew.

But he knows it’s wasted, and Rolo doesn’t care anyways. He doesn’t know why he continues, then. It’s desperation, something that might want validation or miserable company. The same parts of him that chastise his every past action and failure, and the same parts that drive him to crave revenge as much as he is disgusted with his being for wanting it so badly.

It’s an admission, one he hasn’t heard himself say for a year.

“I… wanted to change that. When I became a knight – when I joined the military. To change the way things are, and the way they would be,” he folds his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees and denying Rolo any glimpse of his face to make out his intentions, “I don’t think it takes extremes to make the world better. I think benevolence is stronger than Zero – than Lelouch – thinks.”

He swore Rolo had used his Geass to escape, the silence after his confession was so thunderous and overwhelming. He’s ashamed that he’d vilify himself out loud like it would change anything he’d done. Why now, of all times, was he so overcome?

His hands rake through his hair, cradling his head from his bent over position.

“I didn’t want to do it just for one person, not like Lelouch, but when I finally met someone I could change it for, to change it with, I—”

A light hand on his shoulder stops him, and his frazzled state has him afraid to look up at Rolo because he knows there’s tears and he knows it’s all about Euphie, the massacre, the betrayal, everything.

But he does. He turns his green-eyed gaze to Rolo’s cold silence. He flinches as the hand leaves his shoulder, only for fingertips to lightly graze the firm line of his jaw, a thumb to gently stroke over the hollow in his cheek. Instinct tells him to lean into the touch (that’s what he’d do with Euphie, and this is wrong) but he refrains out of shock.

Rolo knew something about proximity and lulling people into a false sense of security – it wouldn’t be a violation of the mission to prevent his superior from having some sort of neurotic, trauma-induced come apart. That wouldn’t do, especially not on the campus. It would jeopardize everything, and Rolo has never failed a mission.

Suzaku can’t do anything except wait with his heart in this throat. He’d admitted to the Emperor what his motivations were, what drove him. An accusation of treason didn’t scare him.

It was the idea of being rejected on a base, empathetic level. His left hand shakily wraps around Rolo’s wrist, now trapping them both in a moment that seemed to stretch indefinitely.

Rolo doesn’t know what Suzaku wants to hear, not exactly. He could make a damn good guess, but what someone’s heart truly desired was lost on him. He doesn’t know the nuances of empathy, or consideration. They were all ripped from him while he was young.

“…I’m sorry.”

To Lelouch. To Euphemia. To Nunnally, it’s for them, Rolo thinks, and he looses his hand just enough from the grip to brush away the one tear that had escaped. His mind is still sifting through words, trying to puzzle together the right things to say—

“I’m so, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want… None of this was supposed to be this way,” a pressure on Rolo’s lower back ushers him forward, and he remains still (gentle, demure, calm) as Suzaku’s forehead presses against his abdomen, as his arms wrap around his waist, “I wish she could be here. I wish I could have shown her—”

He considers using his Geass to buy himself time, to escape before this leaps from a recollection to a living memory, but…

“I can’t change anything. I couldn’t change anything,” the growing dampness in the fabric of his blazer tells him Suzaku has given up on damming his feelings, and hesitantly Rolo slips his hands around Suzaku’s shoulders, “We should all be here, together, not… Not like this…”

Rolo doesn’t count the seconds of his moment, as he’s prone to do for his Geass.

He hopes he won’t regret it later.

“Stop sneaking onto campus, Kururugi,” this time, Suzaku is expecting the sudden appearance, and he tilts his chin up with an unbegrudged smile. He pushes his glasses further up his nose, leaning back against the wall of Waterford Hall while students filed by with buzzing excitement to the “dead day” festival – because clearly what students needed on their day off to study for finals was something to distract them from studying for finals. “You’re making this difficult.”

“I was feeling nostalgic. Besides, I had to talk to the dean of admissions,” for once, he’s got the one-up on Rolo… although now that he’s focusing on him in proper, he can tell the younger man is hiding something behind his back.

“You’re coming back?”

“It seemed like… It was something I needed to do. It’s—” He inhales deeply, and briefly, concern flutters across Rolo’s face, “what Euphie would have wanted. And it’s the least I can do for her, right?”

Rolo knows Suzaku doesn’t need his agreeance on this, but he nods his head.

“… A-anyways, before this gets… so did you have something to report? I can meet you later-- or were you just trying to sneak up on me again?” He tries to peer behind Rolo, get a glimpse at whatever he’s playing keep away with, and—

He’s gone.

No, this was not okay – he whirls on heel to his right, where Rolo has somehow (Geass, he internally grumbles) materialized beside him with a skewer in one of his hands, laden with strawberries and a thickly crystallized sugar coating.

“I asked Milly to search around for other street food vendors, and one of them happened to be something I recognized from older missions,” Suzaku plucks the bamboo skewer delicately away, raising an eyebrow, “the Directorate is a secret, obviously,” he situates himself against the wall beside Suzaku, prying off a sugary strawberry and popping it into his mouth, “but I spent a lot of time in Northern China.”

Suzaku has to wonder if that’s Rolo’s way of opening up to him, after… after their last encounter. He twists the skewer, “I see… It’s not poisoned?”

“No,” Rolo gives him a sideways glance, mumbling around the fruit in his mouth before he swallows, “I have nothing to gain, anyways,”

Now, a grin crosses his features, “Any advice?” at least there was something light hearted he could recall from… the last time he’d stopped by here unbidden, and the grin is dissolved by laughter at the response he receives,

“You just put it in your mouth.”

He admonishes Rolo for not warning him that the sugar would break in a fashion that was very likely to cut his mouth.

#momowrites #code geass #suzarolo #suzaku kururugi #rolo lamperouge

[siren-dragon]

Carnival Games (Ardyn Izunia x Reader) drabble

Here is a little fic I did for @rosecoloredkay, who wanted a fanfic fluff centered around the Chocobo-Moogle Carnival. Here you are my dear! :D

We’ll be arriving to Altissia shortly.”

“Woohoo, finally!”

You watched Prompto dance about in excitement on the deck of the ship, the exuberant blonde causing a laugh to bubble from your throat.

The Royal Retinue were a common sight within Hammerhead, especially at Takka’s diner where you worked. You still remembered when you first met the four boys; painstakingly pushing a dead car toward the garage before collapsing on the driveway in exhaustion. Curiosity got the better of you and so you decided to offer them four Jetty’s sodas to combat the sweltering heat of the Leide Desert. And after Prompto’s exaggerated words of thanks, alongside those of Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis; you had become a dear friend.

Currently you were joining them on a short trip to Altissia once more in celebration of the Chocobo-Moogle Carnival. It came only once a year and this year, Noctis had managed to procure tickets. Unfortunately, Cindy was too busy to attend, so it left just you and Cid joining the four. Well, more so you; since Cid was likely just heading to Maagho for a nice drink with Weskham.

“Is this your first time to Altissia, (f/n)?” Ignis asked.

“No, I’ve been once before with my parent’s years ago.”

Prompto grinned, 1′though this is your first time to the Carnival, right?”

“Uh huh. And I’m glad that you guys invited me, thank you.”

“No sweat. Plus, it’d be a shame to waste a ticket,” Noctis smiled.

Gladio smirked, “and we couldn’t very well say no to our lovely Culinary Goddess.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Ignis replied.

You laughed, “don’t worry Ignis; no one can compare to you.”

“You are too kind, (f/n). Though don’t sell yourself short, you are skilled in your own right; as is Takka.”

“Thank you Ignis.”

The boat shifted to the left, causing you to look up and watch as the Gates of Altissia came into view. Towering statues of angels loomed overhead like hooded judges, watching every arrival and departure from the Walls of Water. The yacht sailed past the checkpoint and into the main harbor, where the Moogle-Chocobo Carnival had completely undertaken Accordo’s capital.

Balloons filled the air as banners waved through the wind, confetti falling across the city like sprinkles upon a cake. All around people laughed and smiled, wearing silly costumes as they danced and cheered. You grinned brightly at the colorful sights while Prompto practically jumped off the boat to reach the festivities faster.

“This is amazing!” Prompto cheered, quickly pulling out his camera to snap photos of the newly decorated Altissia. “They even have a prize counter!”

“It says here that you must collect tokens to exchange them for rewards.”

“That doesn’t sound too difficult-" You paused, a trinket catching your eye enough to silence your train of thought.

It was a large chocobo doll that sat amongst the enormous pile of moogle, chocobo, and cactuar plushies that took up almost an entire shelf. However, this one was different from the standard canary yellow and was pitch black instead, with a small satchel of Gyshal Greens hooked over it’s body like the festival’s mascot: Chocobro. You grinned at the sight of the doll, knowing that you have already set your sights on the unique plushie.

“See something you like, (f/n)?” Prompto teased.

“Well whatever it is, we’ll need to scrounge up some tokens.” Noctis said, “let’s get a move on.”

“You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up later. Don’t do anything stupid.” Gladio answered before disappearing into the crowd with a lazy wave farewell.

“He’s probably going to hit on girls again.”

Noctis shrugged, “just Gladio being Gladio.”

“I suppose I shall take my leave as well. If we are to be staying the night, it would be best to have accommodations. Take care you three, and try not to cause a scene.”

“Alright, see ya later Specs.”

Prompto sighed as Ignis walked off toward the Leville, “I guess it’s just the three of us. You okay with that (f/n)?”

“It’s no trouble. Besides, I’m sure Gladio and Ignis would enjoy a small break.”

“Heh, guess you have us there. Now come on, let’s hunt down some tokens!”

Together the three of you traversed the entirety of the carnival, stopping to see every attraction and event that littered the streets (and canals) of Altissia. After having to drag Noctis away from the fishing minigame, where he was bragging about the giant grouper he had just caught, the three of you counted the tokens collected and made your way to the prize counter for a small reward. Noctis immediately picked up a new lure, while Prompto decided to grab the Choco-Mog Decal; eager to put it on the Regalia despite Noctis’ protests.

You laughed at the antics of your two friends before reaching for the black chocobo doll, only to have your hand encounter another.

“Excuse me, but I believe this is mine.” A smooth voice, almost like a fine silk, purred softly.

You followed the arm up and brought your gaze upon the man standing beside you. He was incredibly tall, clad in a dark grey trench coat that seemed to exasperate his height. Steel-toed boots and green pinstripe trousers led up to a ruffled dress-shirt, accented by the vest he wore. A dark-grey and black hood was draped across his shoulders with a red-orange scarf tied about his neck. Though the most curious features he had was his wine-colored hair and golden eyes; which were currently staring at you with a look of mild interest.

“I’m sorry sir, but I’m afraid I claimed this prize first.” You replied boldly, unwilling to part with the doll you had worked so hard to get.

“If I recall, my dear, our hands met at the same time.” He chuckled, as if he found your words particularly humorous.

“Yet mine happens to be under yours, meaning I touched it first.”

The main smirked, “if that were true, you would already have the doll in your hands. And yet, here we are.”

“Oh, you smug, little-”

“Hey (f/n), did you find a- Wh-What the hell are you doing here?!”

“My, my, a pleasure as always your Majesty.” The man bowed politely to Noctis, causing the black-haired prince to fume in anger.

You frowned, “Noctis, do you know this man?”

“Tch, you could say that….”

“Really your Majesty, your words are quite hurtful.”

Prompto gulped nervously, “what are you doing here, Ardyn?”

You turned back to face the magenta-haired man. So, his name was Ardyn….

“Enjoying the festivities, of course! And I was just about to acquire a lovely prize too. Now, if I might have the doll, my dear.”

“How about you just leave us the hell alone, Chancellor,” Noctis snapped.

“It’s okay Noct, we don’t need to cause a scene.” You spoke calmly before turning to face Ardyn once more. “Alright, I can see you are not likely to be swayed so how about a deal.”

Ardyn quirked an amused eyebrow at the fuming prince before his golden gaze focused onto you. “How about we race on the track for the doll; first to the finish gets the prize. Also, you will have to promise not to bother Noctis and Prompto during the festival-”

“And if I win, you will accompany me for the remainder of the day Miss (f/n). Without the company of your…friends.” Ardyn finished with a sly smirk.

You blinked in surprise; not expecting him to wager such an offer. Behind you Prompto and Noctis seethed, ready to tell off the older male for even making such a suggestion. But then again, you really wanted that chocobo doll; and it would be nice to wipe that smug smirk off his face…no matter how cute it was.

“It’s a deal.” You replied, offering your hand.

Ardyn took hold of your hand gently, giving it a single shake before moving his lips to your hand and placing a chaste kiss upon your skin. “Shall we then?”

You shifted atop the chocobo you had chosen for your race, a simple yellow that reminded you of Prompto. Meanwhile Ardyn had decided to choose a bright magenta bird that seemed just as flamboyant as it’s rider. Wiz stood on the side with Prompto and Noctis, both of which were cheering you on quite loudly; much to Ardyn’s annoyance. You waved back to your friends before gripping the reins tightly, eyes focused ahead as Ardyn and you waited for the signal. The bell soon sounded, signaling the start of the race and off the two of you went.

Immediately you clicked your heels against your chocobo, urging the large bird to sprint faster. Ardyn frowned as you took the lead, snapping the reins to follow you. You grinned brightly as you guided the chocobo up the stair case and down across the floating platforms that dotted the entire harbor. A few feet away lay the finish line, with Prompto and Noctis cheering you on like a pair of mad men.

Just a bit more and then I’ll- what the?!

A shadow passed over head and you watched as Ardyn flew over head atop his magenta chocobo, landing right in front of you. He gave you a devious grin before cracking the reins in his hands and sending his own mount sprinting forward and over the finish line. You mumbled a curse under your breath as you crossed the finish line right after in second place.

“A good race you two, you sure know how to handle them birds.” Wiz complimented.

“Thank you, Wiz,” you answered back as you dismounted before turning toward your competitor.

Ardyn grinned like a coeurl that caught the chickatrice, “I believe a deal is a deal.”

If Noctis’ and Prompto’s glares were fatal, Ardyn would have been dead twice over.

“Do be careful Miss (f/n), or your ice cream will ruin your dress.”

You blinked in surprise and moved your hand away, saving your dress from a melted ice cream stain in the process. “Oh, thank you….”

“You seem distracted, my dear. I do hope I am not boring you.”

“Erm…..” you glanced at the large, black chocobo within Ardyn’s arms with a look of sorrow. It stung quite a bit to have lost the prize you wanted, but a deal was a deal. And while you were a bit nervous to be alone in the presence of the Chancellor of Niflheim, you decided to make the best of it. After all, you did come to the carnival to have fun; and a lost bet was not going to stand in the way of that.

“Not at all. Actually…I owe you an apology Chancellor.”

Ardyn blinked in surprise, “might I inquire why?”

“I promised to enjoy the Carnival with you, and I keep my word. I do not wish to ruin a joyous event for either of us because my pride was injured in a race. So…shall we get going? There is much to see” You beamed happily, offering him your hand.

He remained silent for a few seconds before a small smile tugged at his lips, “that sounds like a marvelous idea, my dear.”

Together the two of you journeyed through the rest of the attractions that Altissia had to offer. You laughed as a Moogle claimed Ardyn for him to dance with it, wishing you had a camera for a photo. Meanwhile Ardyn managed to show off at the Whack-A-Cactuar game within the coliseum, making you look rather silly having missed the elusive cactuar several times. But you did manage to wipe the smirk off his face when you tried your hand at the shooting range.

“Here you go, and enjoy the festival!” the prize attendant chirped happily, handing you a Choco-Mog hat; complete with a bobbing jewel on top.

You placed it atop your head and spun about, “what do you think?”

Ardyn bit his lip, as if he was trying to prevent himself from laughing. “A wonderful addition, my dear; but I’m afraid it does not match your wings.” He said, gesturing to the yellow chocobo wings you wore on your back.

“A good point…I guess you’ll just have to take it then.” You grinned, placing the hat over his wine-red hair.

He wrinkled his nose in distaste, flicking the plastic jewel. “Well played my dear.” Ardyn groaned as you begun to laugh.

As the sun began to set and evening came, you made your way out of the coliseum with Ardyn beside you as he hummed a cheerful tune. You stopped walking when the Leville was within view, causing Ardyn to stop a few feet away. The large stage that sat within the water was all alight, readying for the fireworks show to begin. “Chancellor Izunia, I-”

“There is no need to be so formal Miss (f/n); please, call me Ardyn.”

“Ardyn…thank you, I had a lovely time.”

He smiled, bowing deeply. “It was a pleasure, my dear.”

A whistle sounded through the air as the first firework was launched, sending showers of blue, orange, white, and yellow lights into the sky. You watched in awe as the evening sky was illuminated with various colors and shapes. Slowly you shifted your gaze to the man beside you, watching as he observed the show with rapt attention. Gently you allowed your hand to take hold of his own; the action causing him to tense. Yet as your hand settle within his grasp, you felt Ardyn’s hand tighten around your own, causing a dusting of crimson blush to brighten your cheeks….

   Later that evening, as you exited the shower within your small suite, you heard a knock at the door. You hurried over and saw no one there, before looking down and gasping in surprise. Sitting upon the floor was the black chocobo doll you had lost that morning…with a note beside it. Quickly you pulled the plushie into the suite and placed it upon the bed and opened the note.

Upon the pristine, white stationary was a collection of numbers, and one simple phrase: Another time, perhaps?

You bit your lip to hide your giddy smile, wondering if the Chancellor would enjoy an Assassin’s Festival as much as a Chocobo-Moogle one.

#ffxv #fanfiction #my writing #ardyn izunia #ardyn izunia x reader #oneshot #chocobo-moogle #carnival #fluff

[tri-point-bruiser]

💑 or 🖤 , your choice. (Mutants in NY)

💑 for a first kiss.

Raph wasn’t sure what had possessed him to go to the carnival. It was supposed to be a celebration for the uniqueness of mutation. Mutants were encouraged to create crafts and sell wares, while others were supposed to help provide education and facts. It was a little silly and sometimes slightly missed the mark, but it wasn’t mean. They tried hard to make sure that it was a positive experience for everyone and humans were welcome to join in the festivities.

Of course that didn’t mean people weren’t problematic. Anyone caught causing trouble were shut down quickly and quietly. Once it was realized that their nonsense wasn’t going to be catered to and they weren’t even allowed to cause a scene, many anti-mutant types left it be.

While it was nice to see so many mutants in one place. Raph and his brothers still worried. Of course, it was important for them to participate in the festivities and make sure people saw them. It was a little weird being local celebrities. Mike was enjoying the hell out of it and Raph was just rolling his eyes. Particularly hard after Mike had talked Raph into joining him in the kissing booth to raise funds for mutant charities.

Mike loved the attention, but Raph wasn’t as thrilled. He mostly did cheek pecks or quick kisses on the lips for those that were insistent on it not being on the cheek. He smiled as a human woman stepped forward, she had cat paint on her face and was kind of adorable. Said her name was Alice and seemed so shy asking for that kiss.

Well Raph couldn’t help himself as he leaned in and pulled the shy girl in for a soft kiss. It was slow, tender, and gentle. He pulled back when he felt her lean into it more, not wanting it to seem like he was giving special treatment. He chuckled at how flushed she was. “Yer cute ya know.” With a little wink at her he watched as she shuffled off looking just a bit dazed.

{{This one is a sort of continuation of the first one. More like a second meeting}}

🖤 for a forced/harsh/firm kiss.

Raph was laughing loudly as he sat in one of the larger booths in the bar. Mike was a riot to drink with and his buddies had been providing Raph with the distraction he needed. Glancing around the bar Raph noticed someone that looked kind of familiar. He waved the girl over and she looked a bit nervous when he did. Her hesitation had Mike teasing him.

“C’mon bro, the poor girl isn’t interested in your ugly butt.”

“Mike, have you looked in a mirror?”

“Sure have brah, and we all know who the attractive one is, one guess and it ain’t you!”Raph pushed Mike away by the face. It looked rough and Mikes friends looked a bit nervous. It was just how the brothers played. They were physical and knew each others limits. Raph shook his head and looked at the girl who still looked nervous and waved her over again. This time she actually walked up to the table.

“Sorry, but, don’t I know ya?” Raph could not place it but she seemed so damned familiar.

“Alice, we met at the carnival..  Um. I had cat face paint?” She was quiet, shy, and it clicked for Raph instantly.

The girl from the booth. Raph was grinning and noticed that Mike took the hint and left with his buddies. “Have a seat, if ya’d like?” Raph was happy she sat next to him and they began talking.

It was late, the bar was closing and Raph offered to walk her home. He had enough to drink that the walk would do him some good and she didn’t seem to be faring much better. Thankfully she didn’t live too far and the managed to make it to her building with only a few stumbles, Raph running into a street sign and trying to start a fight with it, and Alice tripping over her own feet and Raph catching her.

Once at her building Raph, hoping he was reading the signals right, went in for a kiss. While he had intended to be gentle, the kiss was rough, more forceful than he meant it to be. He had her up against the wall of the building, his lips pressed hard to hers as she held onto him. Thankfully he stopped himself before going too far.

“Sorry.. I uh… sorry.. I hope I didn’t hurtcha?”

She looked a bit dazed but otherwise alright. A few awkward goodnights and goodbyes and Raph turned to make his way home.

#secretlyapallascat

[miissmr]

Fake It ‘Til You Make It

An anon requested a one shot that was Riley-centric based on the song Fake Happy by Paramore, but with Lucas catching on at the end. So, here it is. 

Word Count: 3,496

trigger warning: possible depression

It’s the gang’s senior year of high school, and that meant all the senior activities to come—the senior prom, the senior carnival, the senior lock-in, and so much more. Everyone was excited. Everyone that is beside Riley.

She couldn’t explain it and she couldn’t understand it herself, but Riley felt nothing. She wasn’t excited for her last year of high school or anything for that matter. She wasn’t anxious or nervous. She wasn’t scared. She felt nothing. And, when she wasn’t numbed to the world, sadness came rushing over her.

Riley tried her best to hide whatever it was she was feeling because she didn’t actually think she had a real reason to feel what she was feeling. She had parents who would go to the ends of the world for her, the best of friends anyone could ask for who loved her, a roof over her head and a warm bed to sleep in at night. Some people would call her lucky, yet an agonizing feeling of emptiness swallowed her whole. The feeling had first crept in weeks ago, and she just wanted it to go away. She wanted to stop pretending that she was still smiley Riley, but sometimes you need to fake it until you make it, right?

The group of friends is now months into their senior year, and no one had caught onto how Riley has truly been feeling. But, she couldn’t blame them—she was giving them a performance. Every day that they all met at Topanga’s after school to do homework she’d laugh like nothing was wrong, and every day at school she’d walk with a pep in her step and a smile on her face.

On the weekends, if her friends made plans, Riley would tag along. And, just like any other time, she would pretend she was happy, but, after a couple of hours, Riley would say she was tired and excuse herself for the rest of the night. And on the nights Riley didn’t feel like being fake happy, she’d make up an excuse and stay in her room.

Pretending to be happy was exhausting for Riley. Every night, after spending the day laughing and smiling, Riley cried. She didn’t know why she was crying, but when she started, she couldn’t stop. The only comfort she found was in a specific song that she played every night humming softly to it while she fell asleep.

♫ If I smile with my teeth Bet you believe me If I smile with my teeth I think I believe me ♫

♫ Oh please don't ask me how I've been Don't make me play pretend Oh no, oh what's the use Oh please, I bet everybody here is fake happy too ♫

The day of Riley’s eighteenth birthday finally came, but all she really wanted to do was stay in her room with her door shut, her window curtains draw closed, and her earphones in shutting out the outside world. However, she should have known that wasn’t what was going to happen when she heard a loud knock on her window early in the morning.

She slowly sits up on her bed facing away from the window. She takes a deep breath and tries her best to be happy. She’s supposed to be anyway, right? It’s her birthday, and she’s Riley.

Riley drags her feet across her bedroom floor to her window and draw opens her curtains, and she sees her blonde blue-eyed best friend smiling at her with happy birthday balloons.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RILES!” Maya yells as soon as she wiggles her way inside with the bundle of balloons struggling to fit through the window all at once.

Riley laughs, and for a second, she even has herself believing she is really happy. “Maya, shh!” Riley wonders if Maya had noticed that she hasn’t called her peaches in months. “It’s seven in the morning, and everyone is still asleep.”

Maya’s eyes widen. “How is everyone asleep?! It’s your-“

Before Maya can finish her sentence, Riley’s parents and her brother come rushing in. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RILEY!” Auggie, and Mr. and Mrs. Matthews shout, and again, Riley laughs—only she knows it isn’t real.

After everyone hugs Riley, they ask her what she wants to do for the day. “Actually, I was hoping that we could have a quiet night in, if possible.” She looks at them waiting for them to object, but they don’t. She thinks about asking if she could just spend the day alone, but she didn’t want to push it.

“If that’s what you want,” Riley’s mother says, and Riley nods.

Maya groans. “Fine, but I’m taking you out for breakfast then to the mall to buy you a new outfit, and before you say no, you don’t have a choice. So, get ready.”

Riley playfully rolls her eyes. “Okay, but can you all get out? I need to shower and get dressed.” She really just needed a minute to sulk to herself. She needed a minute on her birthday where she didn’t have to pretend.

Once the four of them leave the room, Mr. Matthews turns towards his wife. “Do you think we should cancel the party? She did just say she wanted a quiet evening in.”

Maya laughs. “Please. It’s Riley. She loves birthdays, and hers is no different. I’m sure she only said that because she didn’t want to feel like an inconvenience to us. Riley deserves this party, so it’s still on.”

After a day spent having Maya drag her from store to store, making her try on one outfit after another, and having to fake laugh and fake smile, Riley was happy the day was finally coming to an end. Riley still didn’t understand why Maya made her wear her outfit out of the store.

“I hope you had fun today, honey,” Maya says as they reach Riley’s front door.

“I did. Thank you, Maya.” Riley waits for a second and hopes Maya will finally catch on that she has once again used her name—the way she has the entire day, the way she has for months—instead, of the nickname that Riley had given Maya in the first few minutes of their friendship. But, Maya doesn’t say anything

Riley searches through her bag and pulls out her keys trying her best to ignore the sly smirk that crept on Maya’s lips. When the two girls walk inside, Riley is relieved to find the room dark hoping her parents and Auggie went out for a quick errand and that would give her enough time to try to get rid of Maya and run to the comforts and her room. She lets the smile that she’s been forced on her face fall letting the darkness shield her face.

“Why is it so dark in here?” Maya reaches for the switch by the front door, and Riley turns around to stop her, but before Riley can do so, she hears voices behind yell SURPRISE!

Riley sees Maya smiling at her, but the only thing going through Riley’s mind is the word pretend—and that is what she does. She turns to face everyone and laughs and covers her mouth with her hands in a surprised manner, and she sees everyone smiling at her. She should feel happy at this moment, and for a second, she does. However, it fades away, but she won’t let anyone in the room know that.

She skips around the room, and she understands why no one had noticed. She feels different on the inside, but the way she is acting like nothing has changed. Sometimes when she catches a glimpse of herself smiling or she hears her laughter it fools her into thinking she is truly happy, but the numbness and the sadness tell her otherwise.

“Happy birthday, Riley!” She hears as soon as she is surrounded by her close five friends, and each one of them takes a second to hug her as tightly possible.

The party continues. Everyone sings happy birthday to Riley. She opens her gifts. She chats with everyone who came to celebrate with her. Most importantly Riley makes sure the smile never falters from her lips.

Hours tick by, and now she was counting the minutes until she says goodbye to everyone. She was happy that Maya had an early shift at the bakery, and that meant she couldn’t stay the night. At least, she would have some time alone on her birthday the way she wanted.  

“Before the night is over, we have one final surprise for the birthday girl,” Maya starts. “So, Riles, will you come sit down?” Maya gestured to the sofa and Riley does what Maya asked. “We,” she gestures to Lucas, Zay, Farkle, and Smackle who were standing behind the couch, “went around and asked everyone to say something about you. Whether it was a memory, something nice, or whatever they felt like sharing. Anyways, we smashed everything together into a video.”

Maya looks at Farkle, Riley assumes signaling him to start the video. Farkle moves to the TV in front of the living room and pushes a couple of buttons on two different remotes. The video starts and Riley listens to all her parents and friends speak about her.

She listens to some of her classmates and coworkers speak mostly about her happiness and smile, and how she’s always skipping around making sure everyone around her is okay.

Her parents are next, and they talk about the day she was born and how proud they are of the person she is turning out to be. Zay speaks about the time he and Riley made cookies together after getting the recipe from his grandmother because she felt horrible for eating his cookie. Smackle speaks about Riley’s always bubbly personality, and how it can make anyone feel welcomed the way it made Smackle feel the first time she entered the group of friends.

Farkle addresses Riley as one of his two ex-wives, which earn laughs from the room. He speaks about her kindness for others, and her heart made of gold. He also shares a memory about the first time they went to the planetarium, and Riley couldn’t stop talking about Pluto. Maya starts by saying how much she loves Riley, and how it was Riley who brought the sunshine back into her world, and with that sunshine, it allowed hope to grow.

Finally, it’s Lucas. Everyone in the room can see how nervous he was in the video. He tells everyone how Riley skips through the halls, and how she can make anyone smile just by being herself. He finishes by saying that he’s lucky to have met Riley.

Riley is waiting to feel butterflies in her stomach, a feeling she misses more than anything, but they don’t come and she can’t understand why. He’s always been able to make the flutter come alive, and she knows how she feels about him. But nothing happens inside of her.

As the video comes to an end, it fades into a montage of friends and family saying happy birthday to Riley, and for the first time in a really long time, Riley feels truly happy—until pictures start to show.

At first, there are candid moments of Riley sincerely smiling and laughing, and she finds tears start to build in her eyes.

“Aw, Riles!” Maya plops herself next to Riley once Maya notices the tears.

Maya thinks the tears are from happiness, but Riley knows better—she feels it. She misses feeling happy she misses smiling. Riley is too scared to blink because she knows once she does that the tears will start to fall down her cheeks

She continues to watch the video, and Riley notices something that struck her to her very core. The pictures start becoming less candid moments of her smiling, and more moments of her posing in pictures with friends or family. She notices her smile in the newer pictures, and she notices that those smiles never once reaches her eyes.

She quickly glances around the room wondering if anyone noticed, but no one does. Everyone has smiles on their faces while watching the screen, so she does what she does best—smile and pretends to be happy.

After everyone leaves, Riley helps her parents clean up before rushing to her room. This is the place she really wanted to spend the entire day. She closes her door and changes out of her new outfit and quickly slides on a pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt.

She saunters to her desks and slowly opens her laptop ready to find comfort in her music, one song specifically. So, she hits play and walks to her dresser to grab her brush. She stares at herself running the brush through her hair and let the lyrics run through her body and starts to sing along.

♫ I love making you believe What you get is what you see But I'm so fake happy I feel so fake happy And I bet everybody here Is just as insincere We're all so fake happy And I know fake happy ♫

It begins soft and the voice is low, and anyone who first listens to the song will think it’s just another slow sad song, but it changes.  

♫ I been doing a good job of makin' 'em think I'm quite alright But I hope I don't blink You see its easy when I'm stomping on a beat But no one sees me when I crawl back underneath ♫

The message of the lyrics doesn’t change, but the tempo does. It’s no longer slow, and one might even find themselves dancing along to it forgetting the words and solely focusing on the music. Riley thinks it’s genius. The catchy sound of the music can distract someone from truly hearing the lyrics—just like her smile can distract everyone from knowing the truth about how she feels.

The chorus is just about to begin, but she stops herself when she hears a quiet tap on her window. She turns her head and sees Lucas staring at her. She places her brush on the dresser and moved to let him in.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Riley asks once Lucas is inside her room.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I…I needed to talk to you about something.” He had noticed something at her party, and he had no idea how he missed it.

“Oh, okay. Let me just turn off my music, and we can talk.” Lucas nods, and Riley walks across her room hurrying to turn off the song, not that she’d think Lucas was actually listening to the lyrics. She just wanted to keep it to herself—but it was too late. He heard, and the words were ringing through his head.

Truth be told, he was outside Riley’s window for a minute before he tapped on her window. He listened to her sing. He saw the connection Riley felt with the song, and what he really noticed was she didn’t smile once.

“So, what did you need to talk about?” Riley turns to face him to see him sitting at the foot of her bed, so she slowly walks and takes the spot next to him.

Lucas looks down at his hands and slowly releases a deep breath before looking at Riley. His green eyes meet hers, and he’s looking for the brightness. But, he doesn’t see anything. How has he been so blind?

“Are you okay?” Riley can feel the caution in his voice. She hadn’t been asked that question in months. Her eyes scan his, and she can see them pleading with her to tell him the truth. Nevertheless, she doesn’t.

She laughs half-heartedly. “What? Of course, I’m okay. Why would you ask?”

His eyes don’t leave hers. “Because at your party…with the video and the pictures at the end…it just, it felt like something was off.” He had been the one to provide most of the candid pictures of Riley. Whenever she’d start laughing too hard or she’d get lost in her own thoughts a small smirk found its way to her lips, Lucas was there to capture the moment.

However, it wasn’t until Farkle asked for pictures of Riley for the video that he noticed he didn’t have any recent pictures of those candid moments. He’d been too busy with football and trying to improve his college applications to notice, and he was beating himself up for it.

The entire time the pictures were showing he saw the light slowly leave Riley’s bright eyes. It wasn’t until it was right in front of him that he noticed something was wrong. Lucas wanted to talk to Riley immediately after her party, but she was quick to politely push everyone out the door. He tried to go home and forget about it, telling himself he was overthinking things, but he couldn’t. Her eyes were haunting him every single time he closed his. He knew something was wrong.

“Really?” Riley looks away from his eyes and begins to wring her hands. “I thought the video was lovely.”

Lucas nods. “It was, but something was different. Riley, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, Lucas,” Riley says still looking away from him.

“Are you happy?” Her eyes shoot up to look at him, but she doesn’t say anything. So, he continues. “I know we decided to just be friends, but I want you to know that you can tell me anything. I’m here. I’ll listen.”

Riley takes a shaky breath, and she parts her lips but stops. She knows if she starts to talk she’ll cry. No one had asked her if she was happy, and she wanted to scream she wasn’t. But, she couldn’t. If she did, then she wouldn’t hold the image of smiley Riley, so she lies.

“O-of course, I’m happy.” Her voice breaks at first, and Lucas furrows his eyebrows.

“Really?” She nods. “So, the song you were listening to and singing along to didn’t mean anything to you?”

Her eyes widen. “Yo-you heard me singing?”

“I did, and I’ve known you long enough to know by the way you were singing that the song means something. So, please, Riley, talk to me. We’ve always been good at talking.”

Her eyes swell with tears, and she blinks trying to push them back, but that only sends them rushing down her cheek. Lucas waits for Riley to wipe her tears away, but when she doesn’t, he doesn’t hesitate to.

Lucas cups Riley’s face between his hands. “Riley, please talk to me. I’m begging you.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she sobs. “I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel happy. I don’t feel anxious. I don’t feel scared. I feel nothing. I feel empty.” Lucas slowly drops his hands from Riley’s face, and instead, takes her hands in his. “And when I do feel something, it’s this searing amount of sadness. It swallows me.”

Tears race down her cheeks, and Lucas releases his hands to wipe them away, but returns them to holding Riley’s hands.

“I-I sometimes don’t even want to leave my room let alone my bed. I shouldn’t be feeling like this, but I ca-can’t control it. I didn’t want to b-bother anyone. I’m supposed to be happy. I-I’m supposed to be the happy go lucky one in the group. I’m supposed to keep everyone’s spirit up. I-I’m supposed t-to be the one that smiles themselves to death, but it hurts to have to pretend to be happy when I haven’t been happy in months,” Riley stutters through her tears, but Lucas understands every word. He lets go of her hands and wraps his arms around Riley.

He can feel her trembling against his chest as she sobs. How did he not notice something was wrong with her? How did he not notice the smile that he saw every day was fake? Why did it take him so long to figure this out?

Riley slowly pulls away from Lucas. Her bloodshot red eyes meet his now glossy green ones. “What’s wrong with me, Lucas?” Riley cries.

Lucas tenderly brushes the hair covering Riley’s face behind her ears. He can see her eyes, and this time he’s studying them. Her brown eyes are pleading with him for answers, and he wished he had them for her. “I…I don’t know. I wish more than anything I had an answer for you, but we can get you help. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Hearing that she didn’t have to pretend anymore threw Riley into another fit of sobs. Her secret was out. She didn’t have to be fake happy anymore, and for the first time in months, she felt something different from the two feelings she had grown accustomed to for the past several months. She felt relieved.

#anon i hope you like this #i wasn't too sure about the trigger warning but i thought i'd add it just in case #i also hope the lyrics fit in okay #i hope it's angst enough #i think it is kind of a #rucas fanfic #possible depression #riley matthews

[trueheartedcenobite]

The city of your Carnival wasn’t so far away from the old hive’s shore that you couldn’t still hear the soft murmur of waves in the labyrinthine corridors, like that tale of putting your aural caverns up to an empty shell to hear the sea (yeah, you heard it, but mostly because that was all you ever heard around you and putting a shell to your ear didn’t quite sound so different).  Sometimes, on particularly clear nights while scaling the taller towers to pass on orders or messages or packages or who knows what between signalers or saints or superiors or who knows who, you could still catch a sight of the moons gleaming upon the horizon’s surface (Like.  If you were at any distance tall enough, would you still be able to see that shine?  Motherfucking wonders of the world).  The inland-rushing breeze would carry that familiar scent of salt, unless a coming storm or whim of the wind shifted the air to come from some other direction.

Typically then, among the smells of fresh rain and lightning in the heavy, thick humidity, it smelled of smoke those nights.  

Not the nice sort, like the incense clouding up the holy halls deep in the confines of the citadel real ethereal looking, trailing off artful lines that go twisting through the air and up into the arched ceilings.  Less sweet on the sniff node, and though faint, the scent was rich and deep, and a touch artificial, like throwing plastic on the flame.  Common was the word rebellion, spit out like a curse and unfunny to the whisperers like some malicious prank.  Gossip was nearly just as common as worship here, but those nights, the balance tended to get almost sinful until High Brother called to Court the matter.  You didn’t witness much of those affairs.  Those were for the most crackerjack of carnies.  The best of sharp eyed laughsassins, the staunch subjugs, the voracious fortune killers, and the foxy fucking funambushlists.

The rumors--rumors?  Maybe to the likes of you, sure--

The news of all discord struck deep into the pushers of trolls for some fuckin’ reason was straight from the source legit.  Woe had inflicted the land.  Poor motherfuckers.  And all your siblings wore all these twisted faces at the fact (contemptuous looks, but to you, sneers looked so similar to sadness).  Fellow congregations in cities beyond yours couldn’t be fixing up those places back to its miraculous self.  Couldn’t all get showing those down and out sorts the magic of the world.  Faithful seeking sanctuary from such uproar came crawling up to your Carnival, pleaded cases with High Brother, and understood their failure.  They gained place in the citadel, which was all merry to you.  Injured, in all cases, unable to continue the holy crusade of maintaining the peace and prosperity.  They carried messages of their own, informing the church of the state of affairs where they come.  Most always the tales were victorious.

“The unsightly scum are few and far between.  The littlest factions that are easy to put down, the merest tantrums.  But they have ideas in their nugs that aren’t so easily dispelled by persuasion alone.  Ideas that persist past the due decision their thinkers be done with thinking them.”

In the full pews, a sight you think would appear similar to the old days when numbers of all ages would stay here to protect the city, you all murmured prayers of strength and solidarity to your siblings still guiding the woebegone to salvation, and you’d give a few thoughts of your own to the wretched who lost their ways.You couldn’t understand such upset out there, beyond the sparkling colors of stain glass and comfort of solid stone painted up fine with the numinous colors.  Life was a gift, all experiences treasured and for a grand purpose yet to be revealed.  Life surprised you in that righteous way, and you couldn’t get greedy after those miracles lest your want give you the unexpected results in punishment.

Clowns come spreading other stories, too.  Some nasty cobalt no one’s stars have so alligned to challenge yet, but cobalts are the the chaotic romping kind of trolls, if you had any thought to voice on the matter.  The one sort of sympathy you can give is condolences for a lost mate, and you were surprised with bringing those looks to the faces of your siblings when telling that history (you didn’t realize crippled trolls were dead trolls walking--er, rolling--and none of your siblings helped you know, so you stayed so blissfully ignorant).  It isn’t often to get a mood out of a clown, you’ve seen.  Seadweller all salty at the shores, too, but you didn’t really know how a seadweller could be anything but salty.

You sure try to lift your siblings’ spirits, though.  Like, as though you could be getting them up as high as to pass a prayer right into the ears of the messiahs themselves.  Yeah.  

So you take what burdens off them you can (since you’ve already learned not to be offfering your pie without a real misunderstanding ringing their souls wickedly choked with offense), for the familiar faces common in the crowd you know from your sweep already living here, to the new designs of sisters and brothers just coming onto this grand stage.  Tires a brother doing the good work, but it makes them all chill and it makes them all smiles for the most part.  

Not right now, though.

You got stuck staring out the window at this little wisp of a tree trying to grow in a crag on the sill.  It’s one of those clear nights, where you were catching a glimpse of that multicolored shine on the horizon before this wee critter swayed into your vision and, huh. You know.  You’ve never actually witnessed a full grown tree, or those forests you once read Tavros saying Terezi lived in.  Just the sprawling space of sand and sea, and beyond the dunes, marshes, and beyond those, some grassy plains, and beyond those, the start of hiveland being built up around the Carnival.  And you never traveled to see beyond the tops of those dunes; you weren’t supposed to venture far from your lusus.  You knew how it was with family.  Maybe you could ask at High Brother whether you could venture back for a visit to the old goat, but he was an intimidating one. 

You hear your name sharply break the quiet up here, but your reaction must not be quick enough because you get a few shakes to your nug from a hand high up on your horn.  Sponge sufficiently rattled, and now a few pages of the packet you were bringing up to the signalers loose from your hands, skittering down the stairs, you spy upon the preying eyes of the sister of planetary coms.  

“Hebetude.” Your other name, whatever that is, is full of annoyance.  You’re quick to present what papers are still in hand so as to appease her.  “These were asked for a quarter clock ago.”  

You don’t have much to answer for that besides, “Time’s just a funny fickle thing.”  Some nights you had too much of it, minutes ticking by between seconds, and some nights it seemed to float off out of sight like a balloon lost to a windstorm.  Hand on the stairs railing, because funny shit happened while you were on stairs with some funky humors pushing at your balance, you go retrieving the lost articles.  You’re not really supposed to look at them, but Conscription and Ascension are noticeable words to your eyes.

“Ships be coming?” And when you look up to hand off the last, you know your words were not welcome and you wouldn’t be getting any gift of tasteful sopor for your efforts.  That was, as far as you knew, a grand happening, and an occasion open to some celebrations with reunited friends and friends that would be departing to wherever the fates may choose.  

She seems to consider you deeply, in a way that makes you feel like the target of a sea bird aiming a real good spear.  “Not here,” she finally voices (conceding to herself, if that’s all he knows, he’d stir unnecessary hype with a mouth that runs like water), “Not quiet yet.  But I can’t wait for when they do to see what they’ll do with you.”  

Its a spare sheet you find fluttered way down at the foot of the stairs once you make a quiet retreat from that keenly disapproving stare that describes a shipment of captured psions from a hivestem compound north of the bay, and a yet uncovered dual-eyed yellow individual with a group who managed to slip away.  Describes, too, an early draft plan forming to nip away at the rebelling numbers on planet and divert their “excessive energy” to more disciplined purposes. Too free an environment, it says, where childish insolence can ingrain in an individual despite their sweeps.

You’re quick to deliver the paper back up the plentiful stairs, and while you try and say you already promised a favor for another brother, she hands off some new task for you to do first.  “Punctually, for messiahs’ good graces.”

#plot #ic drabble #((nitpicking at this point and sometimes its just gotta be #wow i havent para'd in a while