#my heart says yes but my understanding of this stupid game and its attitude towards rangers says no

[rohirric-hunter]

Other rangers I’m inordinately concerned for include that lady camped out just north of Dwaling. She’s involved in one quest where Calenglad asks her to send word if any Angmarim pass her on their way out of Evendim and she’s like, “Absolutely! I will absolutely do that. And then I will die in battle in a vain attempt to stop them from entering the Shire.” Like how is she going to handle the hostile takeover the Shire is about to undergo in a few months? Is she still alive?

#lotro #my heart says yes but my understanding of this stupid game and its attitude towards rangers says no

[echos-newlegs]

Can I request 8 from the list with Tech?

Stop Thinking

Ahh yes!

Tech x Reader: "No, no- I liked it."

Warnings: slight cursing

Tech licked his lips. Squinting with furrowed brows as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was feeling self conscious about himself, and it didn't help you and the others decided to head for 79s. A place full of regs.. Normal clones. Perfect clones. Clones you seemed to get along with as well as you got along with him and his brothers.

"Tech, you about ready?" Your voice called from outside the door, and he felt his breath catch. "I uh, yeah, one second." He called back. Running his fingers through his hair one last time. Then slipping out of the fresher. None of you were dressed fancy. You all had your blacks on and lower armor still attached. The others already waiting outside while you stayed back for Tech.

He looked over to you. You were seated on a chair. Fixing your boots, then straightening up when you saw him trail out. "You feeling okay?" You asked. Looking at his slightly distressed form. Hands trembling a bit. "Yeah, I'm fine." You frowned. You knew he wasn't, but you didn't try and press it.

You stood up, looking up to the taller male with a small smile. "Ready then?" He nodded. You opening the door and heading out of the Marauder. Closing the door behind the two of you. He was quieter than normal as the two of you trailing behind his brothers as they bickered and rambled.

You were concerned to say the least. "It's really nice tonight, " you tried to start a conversation and he looked over. Nodding a bit. He was thankful you were trying. His mind was wandering, degrading every little thing about himself. "It really is, the stars are beautifully aligned, too." He commented, and you smiled. Looking up as the five of you went to get a cab.

You and Tech had to take a separate one. The ride was quiet, but it wasn't awkward. You were relaxed and he felt a little better just with you. You never once treated him differently for being defective. You treated him with the same respect you did other clones. If anything, you were a bit nicer to him than most. Always holding conversations, smiling his way, or going out of your way to help him. It always made his day a little brighter. Especially on days like these.

"You gunna dance with me?" You asked as you both approached 79's. You've only danced with him once. It was when you were both pretty buzzed, he was actually drunker than you. Which was a shock, but you never forgot it. It was one of the best nights of your life, and by the way he smiled fondly and his cheeks tinted pink. You were sure he at least remembered a bit of it. "Sure," you giggled a bit at that.

You walked out of the cab. Tech waiting for you to catch up with him. Two of you walking in to see the rest of the gang towards the back where they normally sat. You were going to head back there, but was stopped by the 104th. "Y/n!" Comet and Sinker nearly screamed as they ran over to you. Making you smile and snicker. Giving Tech a small glance as if to say you would join him in a bit. It didn’t take him long to disband from your side and head for the others.

You could practically feel who you assumed was Crosshair glaring daggers into the back of your skull for the five minutes you were talking to the troopers. You were just catching up, it was harmless. Or at least that’s what you thought.

“Sorry, I’m back,” you spoke with a small laugh as you sat at the booth the bad batch took over as theirs. “Welcome!” Wrecker chirped. Shoving you lightly with a snicker, and you snickered back. Eyes moving to Hunter and Crosshairs. “What..?” You spoke with a bit of a frown. “Why were you talking to them?” Cross spat, and you sighed. “Cross, I used to work for the 104th, I’m not about to ignore them. How’d you feel if I got assigned another troop and I just straight up ignored you guys?” You spat back. You noticed Hunters expression changed. He seemed to change his view point on it all, but Crosshair just scoffed.

“We should just enjoy our drinks-“ “Can it, Tech,” Cross sneered, and his eyes moved back to yours. Leaning over the table, but you didn’t back up. “They’re regs, we don’t talk to them, what part of that do you not understand?” It was your turn to lean in now. Furrowing your brow. “What part of you don’t run my life do you not understand?” You snarled. Smacking your hands on the table and standing.

“Wait, where are you going?” Wrecker asked, and you didn’t even turn to answer. “The bar.” Tech sat there and sighed. Head in hands. “They mean no harm and you know it,” “Tech we know as good as you that you feel insecure when she talks with the Regs.” Tech snapped his attention to his brother. Frown forming on his face. Nostrils flaring, “You don’t know bantha shit,” he snapped, and headed off to the bar as well.

It was nights like these he wished he was normal. Kriff, he loved his brothers, but their attitudes were always too stern and glum. He needed change, so he decided to accompany you at the bar with Comet, Sinker, Boost, Wolffe, and a few other troopers.

You noticed him approaching, smiling, but then frowning a bit. “If you came to drag me back to the table I won’t. I’m not letting Crosshairs petty attitude ruin my night.” He shook his head, fingers fiddling with the armor on his thighs. “No, I came to join you, actually.” Your smiled returned. Shoving Comet with a grin. “Move over, Tech sits by me!” Comet grumbled a bit, but did as told. “Yes, Sir,” he spoke and you rolled your eyes with a toothy grin.

“Alright Tech, this is Comet, Sinker, and Boost, that over there is Wolffe.” Everyone but Wolffe waved. “Don’t let him scare you off, he’s actually quite enjoyable.” You informed Tech with a grin. Shooting Wolffe a wink, which made the commander roll his eyes. Lips curled just shy of a smile. “Everyone, this is Tech, a good friend of mine.” He knew it shouldn’t, but you addressing him as a friend and not a coworker made his chest bubble with joy. Smiling as the others waved and welcomed him.

You, Tech, and The Wolfpack all participated in some drinking games with one another. One of them was ‘take a shot each time you could make Wolffe roll his eyes, two if he rolled his head and eyes.’ Though after some time you all moved to a different one since the buzz was hitting and Sinker was singing ‘Sweet Caroline,’ in a near scream.

You were laughing and enjoying yourself, and Tech spent most of the time looking over and studying your face. The way your nose scrunched up when you scolded one of the troopers, jokingly. The way your eyes nearly closed when you were laughing at a joke. Or even just the way your smile never seemed to faulter. This is what he wanted. He wanted an environment like this. One with you happy constantly. Where you weren’t scolding his brothers for something stupid. Or even himself. He began to wonder if you should transfer back to the 104th, or another legion in general.

His thoughts got the best of him again. Zoning out as he played with an empty shot glass on the counter. Coming back to when you nudged his side. “Hm?” “You good, Tech?” You asked, and his eyes widened. Realizing he was zoned out. He nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah uh, yeah I’m fine. I just uhm.. need some air, is all.” He spoke, turning in the chair and heading off to the doors. You weren’t about to let this slide any longer.

You jumped off your stool, heading for the door with him. Catching it before it closed. The music still able to be heard outside the door once shut. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, watching him turn around with a near hurt expression. “Don’t lie, either, I know you aren’t okay, I’ve been working around you long enough to know that.” You spoke. Approaching him a bit closer. You watched as he caved in. You could see it by the way he seemed to slump forward. His light eyes seeming to shatter. Worrying at his bottom lip.

“Y/n?..” he spoke, and you tilted your head a bit. “What is it, Techy?” You didn’t use that nickname on him much. Mainly only for your ears to hear. You weren’t sure of it at first, but he seemed to take a liking to it. Tech closing his eyes and sighing at the nickname. Then slowly opening them again. “I don’t think you belong with us.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows. He could tell his words hurt you, and he knew they would. “What?” Your voice wavered a bit. “I don’t mean it in anything against you, Kriff. You’re absolutely perfect, but you just seem so much happier with the 104th.” He told you. “I want what’s best for you, and well,” he chuckled, beginning to pace in front of you. “Quite honestly we aren’t the best. We’re stubborn, hard to work with, and quite un-enjoyable half the times.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “And you think the Wolfpack is any better? Did you see Wolffe? His scold is worse than Hunter and Crosshairs combined, and he holds a grudge as long, and if not longer than all of you. Then Sinker? Boost? Comet? For stars sake they’re a handful, they’re crazy, and chaotic, and Tech. What I’m trying to say is every clone unit has its flaws. No matter what. Whether it be the commander, Captain, General, Arc Trooper, whoever. There’s flaws in everyone.” You told him.

He stopped his pacing. Watching you as you told your spew, “and honestly, Tech. You aren’t in the authority to tell me what is good for me. I enjoy you all, even if I disagree with you all at times. I don’t expect a perfect troop. We’re in a war for makers sake,” you spoke, and noticed him shift at the mention of the war. “I enjoy all of you. Tech.. I enjoy you.” His eyes lit up at that. Then he looked back down.

“I’m not like them though, I’m blind, I can’t see without.. Without these,” he tapped his goggles. “I’m tan, sure, but I’m lighter than even my brothers and.. I stand out, and I hate it, y/n,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. “I feel like I’m not good enough,” your heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at his words. Stepping closer. Pausing when he seemed to tense. Reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders as if to ground him as you looked up to him.

You just stood there, watching his eyes look over yours for a moment. Searching for an answer, like he always was. “Tech, stop thinking.” He furrowed his brow. “You’re overthinking all of this, you’re good enough, in my eyes you are.” You told him. Watching as he seemed to relax under your touch. Hands running up to rest on the sides of his neck. Thumbs rubbing his exposed skin. Making him shudder. “I don’t care if you’re different,or that you need glasses. Tech, you’re absolutely perfect to me. You’re brilliant, handsome, and a fucking badass.” You both snickered at that. Techs fingers tapping at his thighs.

“Thank you,” you smiled and nodded. “‘Course.” The both of you standing there for a second. Taking in the moment and the touch of one another. Then you made a move that you immediately blamed on the booze. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, and he froze up. Eyes widening. “Sorry I-“ you blurted, taking a step back. Pulling your hands from the base of his neck, but he caught them with his. His hands carefully holding yours. “No no- I liked it,” he assured, and you both smiled. Cheeks tinted pink. “Well..” you hummed, “you still up for that dance?” He chuckled and nodded. “Always.”

#bad batch x reader #star wars #star wars writing #the bad batch #the clone wars #writing #the bad batch tech x reader #tech the bad batch #bad batch tech #tech x reader

[flamingfalcon3]

Hello! I have finally finished the first chapter of my first Jori fanfic. I’m still trying to get a feel for the character interactions but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it! I’m gonna start posting to ao3 once i get that account set up (and figure out a title lol) but I might as well post the first chapter here! Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Jade knew her girlfriend was hiding something. 

Tori was not a hard person to read. Hell, the girl practically wore her heart on her sleeve. It was so easy to guess what she was feeling at all times that Tori had all but given up trying to conceal her emotions. 

So, when Jade noticed that Tori was a bit more high-strung and stressed than usual, it wasn’t hard for her to conclude that there was something on her mind. 

It also helped that Tori was an awful liar. 

“What’s up with you?” Jade asked casually during lunch one afternoon.

“Nothing!” the singer squeaked suspiciously. She cleared her throat and attempted to regain composure. “Nothing is up. Everything is great!”

Jade frowned slightly, not at all convinced, but decided just to drop it for the time being as the rest of their friend group arrived at the table. 

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sikowitz made them all tapdance while performing a scene to “demonstrate how important it is to stay in character no matter what the character may be doing” or whatever and then spent the rest of the class monologuing about how a squirrel got trapped in his bathroom. 

Jade sighed a breath of relief as the final bell rang and cut Sikowitz off just as he was about to go into detail about the standoff he had with the rodent. The only one seemingly more anxious to get out of the classroom than Jade was her girlfriend, who was out the door before the bell even finished ringing. Their friends glanced at each other in confusion. 

“Maybe she really hates squirrels?” Robbie suggested. The others considered it for a moment before shrugging and forgetting about it a second later, exiting the classroom.

Jade strode over to Tori, who was frantically throwing books into her backpack from her locker. Jade leaned back against the locker next to Tori’s while folding her arms across her chest. 

“You’re in a hurry,” the goth commented while watching the girl struggle to cram a science textbook into her bag. 

“Jade!” Tori jumped slightly, seemingly startled by Jade’s presence.

“That’s me,” she responded dryly. “Did you forget about our date after school today?”

The singer’s eyes widened in realization and her hand flew to her forehead as she let out a groan

“Jade, oh my god, I am so sorry! I completely forgot!” she confessed, clearly feeling guilty she had forgotten they’d planned to have sushi after school ended.  

“It’s alright,” Jade replied coolly, quirking the corner of her mouth up slightly to convey to Tori she wasn’t upset with her. “What’s got you in such a rush anyway?”

Tori paused for a moment, staring down at her converse.

“Oh, umm… I promised my mom I would help her with… something,” she mumbled.

“Something…?” Jade probed, hoping to get a little more context on what had her girlfriend so worked up. Tori, however, would not offer her any.

“It’s not important. I swear I’ll make it up to you,” Tori slung her bag over her shoulder before stepping towards Jade and planting a short but sweet kiss to her lips. She then turned and began walking towards the exit. 

“You better! I can’t have people think I got stood up!” Jade called out after her, earning a hearty laugh from her girlfriend as she left the building. 

The goth rolled her eyes, amused by Tori’s refusal to admit what it was she was helping her mother with. It must be super embarrassing or something. 

Jade was halfway through entering her locker combination when she remembered something that gave her pause.

Tori’s parents were out of town for the week. Trina had a showcase and they needed an excuse not to show up. Why would she need to help her mom with something if-?

Jade’s phone lit up with a message from Tori directed towards the group chat, asking if anyone could lend her $100 bucks. The goth furrowed her brows. Tori rarely asked for money, and never more than $10 dollars at a time.

Tori Vega, what the hell are you up to? 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All Jade could think about for the rest of the day was how strange her girlfriend was acting. She wasn’t responding to her text messages and apparently none of their friends had heard from her either. It wasn’t like Tori at all, and Jade’s curiosity was slowly turning into concern. 

She knew it was silly to be worried. Tori was a big girl, after all. Still, why would she need $100 bucks on such short notice? And what was with her skittish and secretive attitude? 

Maybe she was in trouble with someone. Maybe she needed to pay them money in order to keep them at bay. 

The thought was so absurd that Jade almost burst out laughing as soon as it entered her mind. This is Tori she was talking about. Miss “I have never stayed out past curfew” Vega. Not exactly the type to get tangled up in criminal activity.

Still, Jade couldn’t help but feel uneasy about Tori’s radio silence. It wouldn’t hurt to pay her a visit, right?

15 minutes later she was climbing through her girlfriend’s bedroom window, which Tori for some reason always kept unlocked. Tori wasn’t there, but her backpack was on her bed and her phone was on her desk. Jade let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as she sank down onto the bed. Not 10 seconds later she heard the sound of footsteps and the bedroom door creaked open. In walked Tori who jumped five feet in the air and shrieked upon seeing someone in her room.

“Jade?” Tori yelped. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my texts,” the goth deadpanned. 

“So you broke into my house?” 

“I didn’t break in. Your window was unlocked,” 

“That’s still breaking in!”

“Is it really, though?”

“Yes!” 

Jade was about to argue further when she noticed Tori was holding a grocery bag, and its contents looked quite heavy based on how far the bottom was sagging. 

“Whatcha got there?” She asked, gesturing towards the bag. Tori glanced at it quickly before fixing her gaze back on Jade. 

“Just some stuff for a science project,” she stated, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Tori,” Jade huffed. “We are in the same science class. We’re lab partners. We don’t have a science project.”

Tori stammered helplessly, trying and failing to come up with some explanation for what was in the bag. Jade groaned in annoyance, fed up with whatever game her girlfriend was playing.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me what’s going on! You know it doesn’t matter what it is since my opinion of you can’t get any low-” Jade was interrupted by a strange noise coming from somewhere in the room. She immediately turned to locate the source of the sound.  

Tori could only watch helplessly as the goth scoured every inch of her room before finally tearing open the doors to her closet. A tiny fuzzy creature emerged from the darkness. And then another. And then another. They kept emerging from the closet until there were seven tiny kittens of various colors and patterns wandering around the room. 

Jade slowly looked back up at her girlfriend, confusion written all over her face.

“How-how did those get in there?” Tori stammered, trying her very best to feign ignorance as all the kittens ran towards her meowing hungrily. 

Unfortunately her “very best” still wasn’t very good. 

“Tori, why were there cats in your closet?” Jade asked, still absolutely bewildered by the scene that was unfolding. 

The singer realized there was no way she could talk her way out of this one, and just gave her girlfriend a guilty look before opening her mouth.

“Remember last week when there was that sudden downpour in downtown Los Angeles?” Jade nodded. “Well, I was walking home from Nozu’s when I heard strange noises coming from an alleyway. I went to check to see what it was and-”

“Wait, you heard strange noises coming from an alleyway in downtown Los Angeles at night and you went to go check it out?” Jade asked incredulously. Jesus, Jade doesn’t know how her girlfriend has managed to survive for this long considering her self-preservation instincts were non-existent. Tori just rolled her eyes in response.”

“As I was saying, I went to go check out what the strange noises were and… well,” she turned to look at the kittens scampering around her bedroom. 

Jade brought her hand up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“So let me get this straight, you wandered into a back alley while it was raining and found kittens and decided the best thing to do would be to take them home?” Jade was still bewildered by her girlfriend. 

“Well when you put it that way it sounds like a stupid idea,” Tori blushed while avoiding eye contact. Jade sighed but took a step closer to her. 

“I mean, I always assumed you would be one of those lesbians who would have like ten cats but I thought that would start after you moved out of your parents’ house,” she smirked. 

“Hey!” Tori let out a mock-offended gasp while swatting Jade’s arm playfully. “I mean, I probably will have to move out once they come home and discover I’ve been hiding kittens in my room despite my father being deathly allergic to them.”  

Why was Jade attracted to such a moron? 

“Can’t you just give them to a shelter or something?” she asked gently. Tori shook her head softly.

“I thought about it but the pounds are apparently really full this time of year so there’s a significant possibility that they'll get…” Tori paused, unable to even finish the thought. “It’s just… they’ve been through so much in the short few weeks they’ve been alive and I can’t just abandon them now!”

Stupid Tori and her stupid heart of gold. The goth groaned and tilted her head back.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll help you with you’re dumb kitten problem,” Jade’s heart fluttered a little as she watched Tori’s face lit up like a christmas tree. 

“Really?” She gleamed. “How?”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who would be interested in adopting tiny kittens. Especially if you go into detail about their tragic backstory and stuff. People are suckers for that kind of stuff,” Jade stated. “You could like, advertise them on The Slap and try to get them adopted before your parents come back.”

Tori chewed at her bottom lip, contemplating Jade’s suggestion.

“That’s… not a bad idea. People advertise things on The Slap all the time,” she hesitated for a moment and her face fell. “Ugh, wait. Trina follows me. If she finds out I’m hiding kittens in my closet she’ll rat me out for sure.” 

Jade closed her eyes and sighed deeply. God, she can’t believe she was about to say this.

“I guess… I could… post about the kittens on my page, or whatever,” she grimaced. Tori’s grin got so wide Jade was concerned her face was about to split in half. 

“You would do that for me?” she exclaimed. “But, your reputatio-”

“My reputation died as soon as I changed my status to ‘in a relationship with Tori Vega’,” Jade snorted. “Kittens would be nowhere near as embarrassing as you.”

Tori was beaming at her girlfriend despite the insult, chuckling lightly as she wrapped her arms around Jade’s neck and peppering her face with soft kisses before finally connecting their lips. The goth let out a content sigh in the back of her throat and attempted to deepen the kiss while pushing Tori backwards to the bed. However, Tori hummed and broke the kiss leaving Jade more than a little confused. 

“Sorry, I-” the singer stammered. “I would feel weird making out in front of…” 

Jade quirked her eyebrows up in amusement.

“In front of… the cats?” she asked, barely suppressing a laugh. Tori nodded, cheeks red with embarrassment. Jade just chuckled and rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s. 

“Jesus Christ, Tori.”

#jori #victorious #victorious fanfiction #jori fanfiction #jade x tori #jade west #tori vega

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: A bit of relief for your troubled hearts -Danny

Words: 3,265 

Series Masterlist 

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘The Hurt Game’ -by The Script

Chapter Twenty-Three: Truce.

It was chaos after Emily and Sirius broke the news about the baby. 

The adults got closer to Emily and the young ones attacked Mel with thousands of questions. She tried to answer as best as she could knowing as little as she did. Then, after a few minutes, Sirius spoke again.

"Okay, okay!" He said loudly. "There's still one more thing we have to do! Mel, come here..."

Mel approached them, Sirius went to the pantry and came back holding a very large and thin box.

"Bet you were wondering where our Christmas present was," He smirked.

"Oh!" Mel chuckled. "I thought the whole news about the baby had distracted you from getting one, didn't think much about it..."

"Well, the baby was unexpected," Sirius admitted, his eyes hinting at something that he was very careful not to show in public. "But we would never forget about you! Especially after the news of you getting a place on the team!"

"Beater, no less!" Emily beamed. "You have it in your blood, Mel. I was so happy when I found out..."

"We also realized you didn't have a proper instrument to beat them all," Sirius smiled. "So here it is. I had to nag your mother until she let me use my vault to get it. Consider this my gift to you after fourteen years of nothing."

"You didn't," She said breathlessly.

"Open it!" The twins urged her.

Mel ripped the paper and dismantled the box with trembling, anxious hands. A brand new firebolt laid between the mess, begging to be used.

"Bloody hell!" She exclaimed, then looked up at Sirius and her mother. "Are you trying to win me over? There was no need to buy me a broomstick, you're family already!"

Sirius let out a joyful laugh. "Make sure you win in your future games or I'll regret buying you such a broom..."

"Mel's a great player," Ginny assured them, her eyes glued to the broom. "You're going to let me try it, Mel? You have to!"

"Of course I will!" Mel smiled. "Thank you so much!"

"Oh don't thank me, I wanted to give you a simple broom, but Remus and Sirius pestered me until I let them buy this one."

"My uncle?" Mel looked at the man standing in a corner of the room. "But you already gave me a present!"

"I didn't help them with money," Remus brushed it off. "I was the one who went to the bank and got it, Tonks helped me get the broom. Would've been suspicious if a man like me entered and bought the most expensive one in the market."

"It was the biggest pleasure to get that for you, Mel," Tonks admitted. "When I saw Harry's I fell in love with it, and yours is just as breathtaking!"

At the mention of the boy, Mel realized he'd been quiet the whole hour. She looked around the room and managed to get a glimpse of his figure as he left the room.

She made up the excuse of wanting to go and put the broom away herself, so the rest of them let her do it while they set the table to have dinner and Mel abandoned the kitchen, the firebolt firmly held with both her hands.

She found Harry on the second floor as he was leaving the bathroom, his face wet and the tips of his hair sticking to his forehead. He stopped as soon as he saw her. Mel looked down at her new broom and spoke timidly.

"I don't know if I'm a good player, but I promise as soon as we go back I'll practice tons..."

Harry looked down at the broom and then up at her face, a tense smile appearing on his features.

"Brilliant!" He said, using his fake joyful voice. "That's great, really... you... you're a fast learner, you'll be fine— Congrats about the baby," Harry cleared his throat, eyes darting from her broom to the walls. "You're about to find out how it feels, then..."

"What?"

"Having a family," He explained, "when we were twelve you told me you were curious about the things you were missing— Well, now you'll be able to find out..."

Mel was abruptly aware of how much she'd gotten living in Grimmauld place, and how much Harry had lost since June. She had forgotten about that conversation until now. Harry didn't mention the rest, the part where he'd said something about them being family, always together.

It felt like decades had gone by ever since that night at the burrow; but to her, it hurt just the same.

"Of course," He continued coldly. "I also remember saying that you didn't have such an awful life to start with, and that's still true. You got a place on the team, a sibling, a dad," He grimaced when he said it, but continued anyway, "lots of friends... a boyfriend—"

"Don't start this now."

"I'm not trying to start anything," He pushed, "I'm trying to make you see I wasn't wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"It was me who was holding you back," He said with conviction. "I tried to tell you last June but you ignored me— I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, honest— I'm... I'm happy that things went well for you in the end."

What caught her off guard was the tone of sincerity on his voice, there was no double meaning to this, no hidden insults between the lines. Harry was truly trying.

"Thank you," She said. "I don't think you were holding me back, though. We were kids, and it was just the two of us for a long time... I understand why we acted the way we did. We were afraid of being alone."

"But you're not anymore. Alone, I mean."

"Neither are you."

"I s'pose not," He lowered his gaze. "Still... I think it'd be better for everyone if I were... you know..."

"Well, that proves that growing doesn't necessarily make you smarter," She replied, a small smile playing on her lips.

Harry didn't smile back, but her calm attitude seemed to edge him to continue.

"You have to know— What I said the other day..."

"You didn't mean it?" She offered tiredly.

"No... I mean, not all of it," He frowned. "When Sirius said Erick reminded him of his young brother I... I thought that Sirius was going to replace me, or something stupid like that— And I got angry at you because you convinced him to bring him here..."

This was the most Harry had talked to her in weeks, she found herself unable to move until he finished his speech.

"But I was ungrateful. You saved me, Mel. I made you feel bad about helping me because I was feeling awful about having to steal parts of you... but you have to know I was lying."

"What's the truth, then?"

"The part about you not being fully honest," He sighed. "Honestly, Mel, how did you think I was going to react? You liking Fred, befriending Erick...  I would've helped you, and I wouldn't have worried about Fred because in the end you—" His voice faltered, "in the end you chose me."

She didn't know if this was the best moment to be talking about it, but she was sure that she didn't want to leave the conversation unfinished. Mel dragged him inside her room, leaving the broom on the bed and taking her time to gather her feelings.

"I guess I was afraid you would push me away," She started. "You were my only friend for so long— and then the world got wider so quickly— I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and ending up alone in a place I didn't know... I tried so hard to be the perfect friend that I ended up being... not me."

"But you were a good—"

"My point is," She interrupted him, "I had good intentions, but I did it all wrong. We both did."

"Yeah," He kicked a piece of wrapping paper that was near him. "I guess that sums it up."

Mel moved towards the door, but she didn't leave.

"I was being honest when I said I did it all for you, but I also did it for myself. I wanted to prove that I was a worthy Dumbledore."

"I think you've done a good job so far..." He admitted. "Truce?"

Mel hesitated, she was feeling lighter now, but their relationship was far from okay, she was certain that they would find a way to continue arguing about stupid things, but now the air felt less charged. Yes, Mel was sure that she wasn't crushing on him anymore, but she was also convinced that she wasn't ready to start over.

"I think it's too soon," She started carefully, "because... well... I still look at you and wish I could throw something at your face."

The corners of his mouth went up, but only slightly.

"I don't want to hate you," Mel said quietly. "And even though none of us wants to listen to Dumbledore, we should probably stick together if we want to get rid of Umbridge. So as long as you promise that you won't rat me out, or underestimate my decisions, I promise I won't be a git to you. Deal?"

"I think it's a good way to start," He nodded, staring at her with a bit of his old softness back.

Mel turned to leave the room, but before she could close the door behind her, Harry called her name one last time.

"If we don't find a way to really fix things..." He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. "I should probably tell you that I was also lying when I broke things off. I said I didn't like you," He laughed bitterly. "But I did. I really, really liked you."

Kreacher appeared in the attic, but there was something about the way he would carry himself around the house that made her feel he was hiding something. He wasn't as grumpy as before, and sometimes Mel would catch him staring eagerly at Harry as if waiting to see him burst into flames.

As the holidays came to an end, Sirius grew a bit grumpy, he was still happy about the baby, but more often than not he would retreat to spend the afternoons alone. Her mother confided in her one morning that there had been a huge fight between the two adults when they first found out about their kid.

Having a baby wasn't ideal during these times, it was dangerous. Sirius went mad, saying he wasn't father material and they couldn't, by any means, carry the pregnancy to its end.

Emily was tired of putting her life on hold. She'd been waiting for her whole life, she was ready to move on. She wanted to have the baby. Mel had never been destined to be an only child and now she had the opportunity to fix that, and with a wonderful man. It wasn't perfect, Sirius had tried his best to convince her, but Emily had made her mind.

Mel felt silly about not thinking of all the risks. She'd been so excited about the idea of a family that everything else had just stopped existing; but she also believed that her mother had lived through enough and, at the same time, she hadn't lived at all. If this baby meant fulfilment for her, then Mel had no objections, and she would do her best to protect them.

Snape visited on the last day, saying he wanted to talk to Harry. 'Dumbledore's orders' he'd sneered. Erick stayed in the drawing-room, he didn't want Snape to see him. He claimed it had nothing to do with feeling embarrassed about his situation, but at the end of the day, he was a Slytherin living with Weasleys, a Potter, a Black traitor and a Dumbledore. Snape was known to be unfair, and Erick didn't want to lose Snape's favour.

The twins teased him endlessly, Mel could see it was annoying and a bit contradicting for them, have taken a liking to a person with such high esteem towards Snape. What they didn't understand was that Erick didn't appreciate Snape, he just wanted to keep his good reputation going. Which was a clear confirmation that Erick would go back to Hogwarts.

"What made you change your mind?" She asked him.

"Well, you know the day we went to visit Mr Weasley? I went to the bathroom and I ran into one of my father's friends. He's a healer at St. Mungo's."

"Do you think he told them?"

"They haven't said a word to anyone," Erick said. "I lied and said I was leaving a donation my Grandad had left for the hospital. He gave me his condolences and didn't even ask how I was there on my own leaving money when I'm underage— I suppose he doesn't even know I'm sixteen."

"What are you two whispering about?" Fred jumped over the couch and sat next to Mel.

"You think your parents are going to pretend you switched schools?" Mel asked once they explained everything to their friend.

"I think they would if I don't show up at school..."

"But you're going back," She smiled. "I know that look, you're already making plans..."

"Well, if my parents are the cowards I know," He started, his mind doing quiet calculations. "That means they won't try anything while I'm there, and my Grandad left me a considerable amount of money, but I can't use it until I'm seventeen—"

"Which you'll be next week," Fred replied. "Does that mean you're still rich?"

Mel hit his chest lightly. "That's none of your business!"

"I don't have half of my school stuff anyway," Erick scoffed. "I left all my books and robes back home..."

"What's up?" George walked in. "Why aren't you trying to listen to whatever Snape is telling Harry?"

"Because Snape's vague all the time," Mel rolled her eyes. "We won't find out anything."

"Erick is thinking about going back to school," Fred told his brother. "But he's whining about not having robes and equipment."

"Why do you want to go back?" George made a face of disgust. "You got away! You can do anything you want!"

"I can't," Erick raised a brow. "I need to finish my studies if I want to fulfil my goals."

"Well, we can give you our old books," Fred shrugged.

Erick's eyes analyzed the boy's face carefully. "What?"

"I'm pretty sure that the books you guys are using are the same we used except for Umbridge's..."

"But you don't have the books here, do you?"

"Of course not," George snorted. "But we can ask our mum to send them once she's back at the burrow."

"Hermione and I have plenty of spare supplies," Mel smiled. "Ink, parchment... We got you, Prince."

Erick stared at them unblinkingly, his brow furrowed.

"Why are you helping me? I understand it coming from Mel, but why are you two helping me?"

George laughed, and that only confused Erick further.

"You're one of us now, aren't you? If you want to go back to school, you'll go back on both feet."

"Not that we understand your undying love for homework," Fred shivered, "but you've helped us before, this is the least we can do, mate."

"See?" Mel beamed. "You don't have to worry about anything!"

The concept seemed to blow Erick's mind, he'd spent so many years doing everything alone that the Weasleys' support was overwhelming. He wasn't easy to break, but she definitely saw something threatening to ruin his reputation of tough, cold Slytherin peering at the corner of his eyes.

Shouts coming from the kitchen brought all of them back to the present.

"Well, look at that," George said reproachfully. "It seems that something interesting did happen."

The four of them left the room in a hurry, on queue, the front door opened and Mr Weasley and Tonks walked in, but the latter left a second after she made sure Mr Weasley was safe and sound on the main hall of the house. Mrs Weasley, unaware of the fight happening downstairs, came to welcome her husband. Ginny, Hermione and Ron all three appeared at the top of the stairs as well.

The small group shared an anxious look and Erick asked quietly.

"Should we tell them?"

"Er..." Fred pointed towards his parents with a tentative smile. "I think they're about to find out..."

They were walking towards the kitchen, closely followed by the kids. The twins, Mel and Erick accompanied them as well, eager to see what was going on.

"Feels good to be back!" Mr Weasley was saying loudly as he moved forward. "Cured! Completely cured!" He pushed the door open and revealed the scene ahead.

Turns out not only Snape and Harry were there. Sirius and Emily had stayed in the room and now Sirius was pointing his wand at Snape, Harry was standing between the two men, his arms stretched out to keep them apart while Emily was standing across the table not knowing what to do. The four of them stared back at the group of people.

"Merlin's beard," Mr Weasley said in shock, "what's going on here?"

Mel realized Erick was still beside her and she pulled the twins to stand in front of him, completely hiding his figure. Snape lowered his wand and put it away, he walked past, failing to notice the hidden person between Fred and George. He turned around one last time to look at Harry.

"Six o'clock Monday evening, Potter."

Sirius had a murderous look on his face, Emily walked up to him and snatched the wand out of his hand.

"But what's been going on?" asked Mr Weasley once more.

"Nothing, Arthur, just a friendly little chat between two old school friends..."

Emily clicked her tongue but sat back down and said nothing, leaving Sirius' wand on the table.

"So... you're cured?" Sirius smiled tensely. "That's great news, really great..."

"Yes, isn't it?" said Mrs Weasley. "Healer Smethwyck worked his magic in the end, found an antidote to whatever that snake's got in its fangs, and Arthur's learned his lesson about dabbling in Muggle medicine, haven't you, dear?"

"Yes, Molly dear," Mr Weasley replied quietly.

Harry explained to them shortly what had transpired between the two men, Snape was there to tell him about his future occlumency lessons, but in the end, Snape had found Sirius' weak spot and pocked it until Sirius got tired, it was obvious that he was fed up with how everyone was doing something but him. Harry also mentioned that Snape somehow knew about Emily's pregnancy.

"It got out of control after that," Harry made a face. "Snape said that Sirius and Emily were being irresponsible, he said they hadn't grown up if they were having a baby during these times... He told Emily she should've known better... the way he said it made it sound like she was left to watch after a wild beast, and he hinted that Sirius' baby was bound to be the same..."

"What a rat," Mel growled. "Who does he think he is?"

"A big fat git," said Erick.

The group of friends turned to look at him in surprise.

"What? He's a prat, everyone knows that!" He raised a brow. "Don't look at me as if you've never said it!"

"You know, Flint?" Ron replied. "Maybe you're not as annoying as I thought."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee​

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

[razorblade180]

Looking Back

[Lasting Embers au spoilers]

A constant in life is that life is constantly changing; a concept known to any huntsman that were worth their salt on the battlefield. As well as anybody who chose a dangerous life style. For Adam, it was the second constant in his life. The first was the stary void that dawned over him with its trillions of stars. It might be the only real perk of night watch. It was his turn to keep an eye out for any enemy that could’ve been following him and the rag tag fever dream of a team he found himself with. When Jacquelyn told him life is a story that goes the way each person decides, he never imagine somehow he had written a story that would lead him to helping members of team RWBY, their families, and his as well. Crazy for sure but hey, crazier had happened. This didn’t even make the list.

Yang approached him from behind with two mugs in her hand. The both of them were ordered to watch the forest clearing from the tree line. Ruby was dead set on making sure the two of them were in sync enough to fight together if things got hairy. Yang could think of a million other ways to spend the night but she wasn’t about to complain and handed him the coffee.

Yang:One coffee, black. If you’re going for something gross to keep you awake then I understand.

Adam:I told you black so you couldn’t slip anything in it.

Yang:....

Adam:Joking, I wasn’t serious. Mostly.

Yang:Your humor is more bitter than your drink. *sips* you should try to be more grounded.

Adam:That was terrible. We can’t both be bad at this or I might die from boredom alone.

Yang:Stabs to the chest didn’t end you. I doubt puns will. I’d be upset; could’ve gotten rid of you a long time ago if they did.

Adam:What can I say? I’m one lucky bastard.

Yang:I’ll say....

The blonde bruiser sat down with her head supported by her hands. Being here was awkward, too awkward. Neither of them really continued speaking. One watched the fields whil the other star gazed. Adam would sometime steal glances at Yang’s arm before going back to mapping out the sky. Yang let out a long and over the top sigh. At this point, talking to Adam couldn’t be as unbearable as saying nothing.

Yang:We should play a game.

Adam:What?

Yang:You heard me. It’ll pass the time. Besides, I’m positive Ruby will keep sticking us as partners if we don’t even pretend to get along.

Adam:Who’s pretending? I made my peace with my thoughts on you a long time ago. If I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have entertained the thought of looking over your daughter for over a decade.

Yang:Hmm is that right? Well, can’t say I’m not entirely over that hump.

Adam:This makes the fourth of fifth time you’ve told me that. You need new material. Freeing Jackie, me, when I showed up at your home, the train ride; I get it. Messaged received.

Yang:Tsk, no need to sound smug about it.

Adam:I’m not. I just don’t see a reason for you to state the obvious. You don’t forgive someone who shouldn’t be forgiven. What, are you upset because people like your sister don’t share the sentiment?

Yang:Why bring Ruby up and not Blake?

Adam:Like I said, stating the obvious. How are you two though? You’ve had plenty of time to properly bury that hatchet.

Yang:We’re just fine. Even before this whole cult shit.

Adam:Good. It’s already insane you two “killed” me and didn’t get together. I’d feel some type of way if you weren’t even friends. Talk about a let down.

Yang:You’re the reason- ugh, why the hell am I even trying to hold a proper conversation with you? I might as well pull my hair out...

Adam:....The hate game.

Yang:What?

Adam:It’s the game I wanna play. You and another person take turns talking about something you hate about the other.

Yang:That....sounds so stupid.

Adam:That’s the spirit, I’ll go first. You’re really loud all the time. Ever heard of a inside voice?

Yang:That’s rich coming from the screaming goat. All you ever did was scream Blake’s name.

Adam:All you ever did was scream in general. I hate how you always seem to butt into everything. It’s one thing to help a friend but you like act like you have a right to have an opinion on people you know by association.

Yang:I don’t need to know much about a terrorist to know you’re terrible.

Adam:I hate how you haven’t realized this is the first time you’re judging me by the crimes I committed for the first time, instead of claiming I was nothing but fake towards Blake and Ilia.

Yang:....

Adam:Everything is personal with you.

Yang:Says the hypocrite.

Adam:I won’t deny that. You feel better or you got more on your chest?

Yang:We’d be here for years if I said it all.

Adam:Then say the important ones I know you wanna say. “I hate that you’re still alive.” Or is it “I can’t stand your dismissive attitude?” The fact anybody like me was given a second-

Yang:I hate that you’ve spent more time with Yujin than me...

Adam:Oh....hmm. *lays back*

Yang:Got nothing smart to say, jackass?

Adam:Hey if you raised my kid with me barely around, I’d hate you too. Can’t fault you for that one.

Yang:It’s a twisted joke really. So many people to look over her from afar and it’s you. What was Sun thinking?

Adam:We were under staffed and things got ugly really fast. Decisions had to happen quickly. Plus the threat was clearly too unknown and dangerous to half ass anything. They killed two of you after all.

Yang:It would be wise to keep that incident out of your mouth. Ruby might tolerate you but that’ll change before I can even lift a finger.

Adam:Now you’re warning me? I thought your sister stomping me out would make your day.

Yang:Dude...shut up.

Adam:....What happened to your uncle and friend was terrible, sorry.

Yang:Ugh, even you saying that feels so wrong.

Adam: Please, thank you, and I’m sorry aren’t that hard. It’s not even new. The white fang wasn’t all snarls and chanting like you think. For awhile I pretty calm there.

Yang:The key word being “awhile.” You murdered your own.

Adam:Yep.

Yang*grits teeth* That’s all you say? People keep saying you’re different left and right and yet you don’t seem even a little regretfull. You’re sipping coffee and staring at the stars as if you hadn’t spent most of your life ruining other’s! What part of that sounds like a change of heart!?

Adam didn’t break his attention away from those stars. If he did, Adam would’ve no doubt seen how irritated Yang was. Her eyes burned red as she waited for an answer. Yang’s coffee was even boiling.

Yang:Well?

Adam:Regretting doesn’t bring them back, or the most heartfelt apologies. It just stirs anger. You wouldn’t feel better about your arm if I apologize.

Yang:So you choose to not even try.

Adam:No, I’ll just convince Jacquelyn to get the relic of creation whenever we eventually go to Atlas.

A perfectly good cup of coffee falls out of Yang’s hand. Did she hear that right? Adam just said he planned on creating an arm with a relic, for her!

Adam:What? It made me an eye. Making an arm is far less complicated than that. I’d say that would be better than any words I could say that you wouldn’t believe anyways.

Yang:....It’s your turn again.

Adam:Ah, let’s see. Well, if I were to be honest I guess...it really bothers me how similar you are to your daughter.

Yang:The hell does-

Adam:Let me finish before you break my ribs. That kid of yours pretty feisty and passionate about so many things. She bugged me to help train her until I finally said yes. Yujin gets frustrated easily and gets really sensitive about certain maternal subjects; yet it isn’t like she doesn’t want to avoid those conversations altogether. Seriously, your daughter is a little bit of a mess, but a fun mess. That bothers me because for a split second I can’t help but wonder that maybe if you and encountered each other on the same side in the beginning...maybe we’d be decent acquaintances or something.

Yang:D-Did you just say what I think you just said.

Adam:Who knows? I suck with words. I’m gonna rest for a little bit.

He turned his back to her to avoid eye contact. Yang couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. Was he embarrassed? Did he actually try some roundabout way of saying she was a good person? If only Blake was here for that. She would’ve flipped. Yang looked up the sky then back at the field; still nothing. When her guys went back to the stars it was curiosity.

Yang:Hey, were you staring a constellation in particular or something?

Adam:You can see Capricornus well from here. I joke all the time with Jael about that one since she’s into a shark faunus. Looking at it made me think about her is all.

Yang:Jael is your second daughter right?! I can’t believe I didn’t know that. I remember the first one for sure.

Adam:You were a little preoccupied to notice anything regarding Jael. Her and Yujin share a birthday.

Yang:No foolin!? Well how about that.

Adam:Yeah, life sure does like it’s jokes. I get a lot of flack if I’m not around for one’s birthday. Jael will get pouty and your daughter gets fussy. “You promised!” I’ve heard that too much.

Yang:Hehe, Jin might get that from me. It’s natural for your kid though. I know I wanted my dad around for mine. Even when I grew up and acted like I was too grown to really care, I wanted his birthday breakfast. Your kid looked like a real beauty.

Adam:Thanks, definitely got that from her mother.

Yang:Haha, don’t feel bad. Seeing Yujin with short hair made me think Jaune had another younger sister I just never met. His genes are way too strong.

Adam:Trust me, I’ve seen her with long hair and in the middle of a fight. I might’ve called her your name a few times.

Yang:Oof, that must’ve pissed her off.

Adam:No....she was actually surprised more than anything. Yujin never hated you Yang. Despite how she acted whenever your name was mentioned. I think she just wasn’t sure how to feel about you besides feeling lonely. I’m not any better with Jael. You wanna talk regrets, I don’t think I spent enough time with her the way I should’ve. Hopefully I’m wrong.

Yang:It’s very telling that you don’t regret your past but you regret something like that.

Adam:My past is terrible and dark, but it led me to my wife and kids. It feels wrong to regret it, so I’ll just accept it and carry on. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever have time to live in the present.

Yang:Geez, ever the drama queen. Though I can see a little bit of that view point. Still a spit in the face to people and yourself if you asked me.

Adam:The world thinks I’m dead and has made their mind up about me a long time ago. I go around taking down other terrorists and orginizations to keep them safe as a way to give back. I don’t owe the world anymore than that. I’m simply a remnant among Remnant. My regret is my kids have me as a dad. A kid should be able to talk about their parents and be proud.

Yang:Can’t argue with that. At least you stayed and are apart of their life. I can barely say that.

Adam:Helping save Remnant from another shadow war is a pretty strong excuse. Especially when the group has actually killed your family members. You’re just protecting them. Jaune and Yujin understand that.

Yang:....I hate that you’re not as terrible anymore. Reasonable you is too...

Adam:Reasonable?

Yang:I really hope I don’t have with this for another ten years.

Adam:I give it two, tops. You have a maiden with you this time and me. I’ll just hit you so you can get stronger and wreck shop.

Yang:Hit me and I hit you.

Adam:I’ll block, now we’re both wrecking shop.

Yang:Jacquelyn must have the patience of a saint to deal with you.

Adam:Yep, she’s pretty great. Saved my life, saved my soul. Couldn’t ask for more. You two would probably get along.

Yang:Nah, we worked together once. Wasn’t the best experience.

Adam:I was kidnapped and you were both pregnant. I’m not the smartest person but I’m positive that was a recipe for disaster. She thinks you’re cool, really respect your virtues. Sometimes it feels like she’s quoting you unfortunately.

Yang:Oh, glad I left a good impression. Maybe I can have her whisper regrets into your ear. Seriously, I regret things like lying to Ruby about tiny things yet you don’t really regret anything?

Adam:My regrets take place before the white fang. They remain in the work camp I escaped from. It’s funny, Yujin reminds me of my little sister, Eve.

Yang:Are you telling me that you, Adam, had a sister named Eve?

Adam:When you live in a place devoid of hope or faith, you cling to it in any way can. So my mother named us to help maintain hers. Probably had something to do with the loss of our father. Can’t say, never met him.

Yang:What was your mother’s name?

Adam:Don’t know. I called her mom and the gaurds called her by a serial number. Even that’s a little hazy. Anyways, sis got caught in an mining incident; mother was gunned down because I furious at a gaurd that stopped me from saving Eve.

Yang:Wow that’s umm, heavy stuff. Is that how you...*point to face*

Adam:Yeah, called it my punishment for disobeying. As far as regrets go, it would’ve been nice to be a son and brother; one that got to actually have proper meals.

Yang looked at Adam stare deeply into the void of space. It was strange. Yang has never seen Adam look mournful before. His eyes seemed to get more lost in thought by the second. A part of her felt....sorry for him.

Yang:I’m sure they’ve watched over you since day one. Who knows? Maybe they’re the real reason you’ve survived so long? If I know a thing or two about little sisters and mothers, they’ll never let you rest until you clean up your act, hehehe. Ruby can vouch for that. I bet both of them would be proud of your end result.

Adam:That’s funny. It kinda sounds like you just tried showing me compassion.

Yang:Pfft, I think you may have brain damage you didn’t know about.

Adam:Oh it’s possible. Neo and Mercury have put me through some shit.

Both of them laughed and continued to chat aimlessly, unaware that Ruby and Raven were watching from their own vantage point.

Raven:Well look at that? Maybe the gods haven’t abandoned us if people like those two can chat like that.

Ruby:Looks like our colorful team has gotten a little more stable. Now if only Weiss can get used to Nora’s snoring.

Raven:That’s seriously on your to-do list?

Ruby:I refuse to lead my team poorly this time around. I’ll do whatever I can whenever I can.

Raven:Qrow and Oscar would be proud to see you back on your feet, the right way this time.

Ruby:Can’t mourn forever. This is the mission to end all missions. I’m going full throttle...

#rwby #rwby au #yang xiao long #adam taurus #raven branwen #ruby rose #rwby lasting embers

[themangoyogurt]

Between 29th and Astoria: The Appetizer

Chapter 5

It was always the same story after a night of hard drinking - waking up with regret, plotting your own death, and revisiting misdemeanors committed under the influence of alcohol. To make matters worse, you had fallen asleep on the commute resulting in missing your stop. By the time you went above ground, back down on the other side, and hopped on the right train - you were hopelessly late.

Not only that, but you had been drunk enough to make stupid life decisions such as feel up your freaking boss, but not blitzed enough to have forgotten what had happened. You stepped off the executive elevator and onto the forty-fifth floor completely ready to die of embarrassment.

Only, you didn’t.

Ren’s door was closed, but you heard gentle murmuring behind the glass. His morning conference call must have begun earlier than scheduled. At least that took care of any awkward A.M. confrontations. If you had any doubts that your job was on the line though, they were immediately cleared as you stepped up to your little glass fortress.

Sitting neatly in the center right between your monitor and keyboard was a cup of coffee. A sticky note was stuck to the sleeve with two sentences scrawled in surprisingly beautiful penmanship.

“May I suggest a different addictive substance? Perhaps one that won’t kill you?”

The smell of hazelnut and spice wafted up from the lid, enveloping the area with a warm scent. The caramel liquid inside was still hot, and burned deliciously as it was consumed. Seeing that he bought you coffee, perhaps Kylo’s hypocrisy regarding smoking could be ignored. For now at least. You reclined into the leather seat underneath and began your typical morning rituals.

The computer fired on with a half-hearted beep. Next, physical memos were sorted as the screen slowly loaded. Some papers were shuffled into the trash. Others were filed away for later use, and a select few were organized into a folder to hand off to Mr. Ren. As soon as the monitor pinged to life, e-mails were next on the list. Similar to the memos, you organized and sorted the digital mail. Once in a while, you’d be interrupted by a phone call.

Most of the time it was a frantic Mitaka in search of one thing or another for Hux. The poor man was clearly stretched far too thin, and you always spent the latter half of your conversations giving the assistant a pep talk. By the time everything was catalogued and dealt with, it was usually lunch. That was almost always taken alone at your desk. First Order certainly didn’t encourage friendships, that much was for sure. If you were lucky and Mr. Ren had an outside appointment during the hour, you were able to eat elsewhere. Even then it wasn’t very exciting. You’d usually just grab a sorry excuse for a salad from Hale & Hearty, and eat it in the break room.

Today was different though. Twelve o’ clock struck, and Mr. Ren emerged from his office. Dark hair coiffed backwards, he slowly ambled towards your desk. Your name slid from his lips like oil and you looked up in surprise.

“Mr. Ren! I thought you had a lunch appointment today.”

He tapped his fingers along the smooth surface of your desk and nodded. Reaching over, he plucked your purse hanging from the back of the chair. Smiling, the man responded, “Yes, I do. You’re my appointment.”

You mouth slackened in surprise, and Kylo smirked at your reaction, filing away the image along with others he had collected over time. Twirling the leather strap of your bag in one hand, he turned on his heel and marched over to the elevator. You immediately jumped up from your chair and hurried a step behind the man.

He brought you to a swanky restaurant somewhere uptown. Just like at the club last night, you felt incredibly out of place. It was the type of establishment you’d only read about in magazines alongside the words “so-and-so celebrity spotted at”. It certainly wasn’t the kind of venue a failed photographer turned personal assistant ate at. And it definitely wasn’t the kind of place a boss should be taking his assistant just for kicks.

Regardless, Kylo still placed a warm palm on your lower back and ushered you through the large doors and into a marble waiting area. The hostess immediately recognized the raven-haired CEO and lead the way to a private dining area secluded in the back.

The lithe blonde’s eyes darted between the two of you and then to Kylo’s hands before asking, “Mr. Ren, would you like me to check your - uh - friend’s bag?”

Oh my God. Kylo Ren was still holding your purse.

Your face colored in embarrassment as you thought about how this woman probably checked Birkins worth six figures. Your little flea market find of cracked leather definitely had no business being checked anywhere. Panicking, you snatched the purse away from your boss and awkwardly tittered that you’d be fine holding onto the handbag.

Did the woman just give you a look of sympathy?

If she kept up that attitude, you’d give her something to be sympathetic about. Your eyes squinted ever so slightly, and Ren let out a snort. He waved the hostess away and pulled out your chair before settling in across the table.

“If you’re ashamed of your purse, you could always buy a new one.”

“Excuse me?! Just because I don’t enjoy being judged, doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of my purse! And what do you expect me to do? Go out and buy a Chanel with the zero dollars in my savings account?”

Kylo’s head tilted backwards as he chuckled, “You looked ready to choke the hostess with your mind.”

“My purse has character. Something she wouldn’t understand,” you pouted.

“Yes. I’m just finding out about how much character you possess.”

Heat spread across your cheeks and your face bloomed pink at your boss’s teasing. Fiddling with the hem of the tablecloth you whispered, “I’m so sorry about last night, Mr. Ren.” He dismissed your apology with a wave of his hand and chortled, “I’ve seen Phasma do worse on a better night. Don’t worry about it.” He slowly drank in the sight of your flushed skin and the way your lashes shyly fluttered at his words. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

Thankfully the waiter arrived, and provided some relief as he went over the tasting menu. Who on earth ate five courses at twelve thirty in the afternoon?

Apparently, Kylo Ren did. The man didn’t even flinch as the waiter rattled off various dishes and accompaniments. You blushed again as Mr. Ren ordered a whiskey neat for himself and a gin and tonic for yourself. He ignored your protests that it was too early to drink, and opted to lean back and watch your fruitless objections with mirth.

“Are you done?”

Your ears turned red, and Kylo grinned with his full set of teeth. He was beginning to discover a new hobby - making his assistant blush. Once again, the waiter came to the rescue as he set down a white oval porcelain dish with two oysters perched atop a hill of ice with caviar scattered about. Ren expertly fed himself the appetizer and watched you struggle in amusement. Compared to Ren’s effortless elegance, you looked like a pelican choking down sardines.

He quietly placed a palm on the table and asked, “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do after work?”

An eyebrow raised on its own as you studied Mr. Ren with some suspicion. Just a few days ago, this man was one missed memo away from flipping over your desk and booting you out the door. Now he wanted to know what you did for fun? As if sensing your apprehension, Kylo teased, “Isn’t this what friends do? Get to know each other?”

The memory of Kylo’s massive hands gripping your slight wrists was enough to make you gag on your drink. Were gin and tonics always this difficult to stomach?

Clearing your throat and wiping the edges of your lips, you replied, “Well. Honestly, I go to work so early and stay so late...there isn’t really much time for me to do anything. My friends are pretty understanding though, so we spend most of our time at my apartment or theirs. We - uh - you know, talk. Sometimes we play board games or just watch Netflix. We do other things together, too.”

Kylo arched a brow and joked, “You do ‘other things’ with your friends? How conveniently vague.”

Coughing again, you sputtered, “No! No. I mean, we’re all single, but we don’t - you know - do weird things. Uhm, Rose is a mechanic and she works on these crazy fancy private planes that come in and out of the city. Sometimes her clients invite her to cool things, and I’ll get to tag along. Poe has a really sweet job, and he’ll hook us up with tickets to events, too. And, uhm, Finn also works at Poe’s company, but only part time. But he’s trying really hard to be an actor and he just wrapped up a really great show. We’ll go see him in different performances, and it’s really fun!”

Kylo ran his bottom lip along the edge of his glass as he took in your response. The name “Poe” sounded oddly familiar to him. It was a rather archaic sounding name that not many in your age group had. He’d have to look into that later, rather preferring to settle on one key fact he was surprisingly happy to learn - you were single.

“What about you, Mr. Ren? Do you have any hobbies? Or - uhm - date?”

You were going to be the death of him. If he could die via cuteness, he would choose you every time. He watched your throat bob as you swallowed, almost as if you wished you could push the words back down. He thought for a moment: no, what he did with the fairer sex certainly wouldn’t be considered dating. As for hobbies?

“Sure. I enjoy calligraphy. It’s a nice marriage of art and the written form. I also like taking my cars out to the speedway from time-to-time. As for dating? No. I wouldn’t say I have the time to date...per se.”

You nodded along, thinking the entire time that Mr. Ren sounded lightyears above you. Of course someone like him wouldn’t play fucking Cranium in his free time. You continued to eat and chat until the meal wrapped up. Kylo was even suave enough to take care of the check while he got up to use the restroom, saving you the embarrassment of having to act like you could even afford to split the $700 bill.

Walking out the door, you stopped to turn to the man. Rocking a bit on your heels, you meekly murmured, “Thank you, Mr. Ren...”

“What was that, little mouse? I didn’t quite catch that.” A quirk of his lip indicated that he was teasing you again.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, “Thank you, Mr. Ren. For the meal. And the conversation. I - uh - quite enjoyed spending time with you.”

He gave you a warm smile. The most genuine one you have yet to witness. He carefully patted your back - high enough to be professional, but low enough to leave you confused.

Looking up into the sky, he replied, “I’m glad. Perhaps we could making spending time together a habit.”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #reader insert #modern au #B29&A

[clearlyswagmentality]

MAfias Sweet revenge Pt2

I was faced with his silence, as he faced away. So i yanked his hand, earning a blisfull shout in pain, and used his fingerprint I.D. Once open i let him go and walked off, going through his phone.

“Let us see... what do we have here... Aha! Dad! Lets see if your as stupid as you seem” after a few rings a familiar voice came through, and i looked down in disdain “Really, Really! What idiot records his father, your father down as dad! You do realise your a Mafisos’s Son right!”

“WHO IS THIS!” I heard Medichi shouting from the other end ignoring the anger, as i changed the call to video call

“MAX! How many times have I told you not to leave the house without my permiss- LUIS! THE FUCK! WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS PHONE!” I grinned excitement buzzing through my vaines

“HI MED! What no greating your dear friend, oh how it pains my heart! Despite bing your friend and having not seen each other for so long, have you not missed me-”

“-STOP WITH THE MIND GAMES YOU CRAZY BITCH! TELL ME WHERE MY SON IS!!!”

“AHEM- As i was saying before you so rudely interrupted me... LONG TIME NO SEE! What have you been up to! other than sending your pets to kill my family today, and losing your precios son, no pun intended by the way, he’s still alive. Oh and heads up If i see anyone near the vacinity of this area after 3 hours starting now I wont hesitate to play football with a certain someones head. CAPISH! Though i dont thing his head would be round enough, so i might need to cut of an ear or two, you understand right Med-”

“SHOW ME MY SON!”

“OKAY! OKAY! Wow attitude much, you should learn some manners from your son, he knows how to beg and say please when he want ssomthing, He knows who has the upper hand” I whispered towards the end as i flipped the camera to his son. who was panting for breaths in a weakned state, his eyes fluttering as he struggled to stay awake. Medichis reaction only had me laughing as i crouched by his son letting him see his sons face up close, when the boy suddenly slumped losing conciseness.

“MAX! MAX! CAN YOU HEAR ME! MA-”

BANG!

His eyes bullged wide as he woke back up screamin in pain

“You ungreateful brat, answer your elders when they call for you” I snickered

“I WILL KILL YOU! I SWEAR TO ALL RGARS ABOVE! ILL KILL YOU IF YOU HURT MY SON!” I rolled my eyes at his stupidity, like father like son i guess, just as i was about to answe him his son butted in

“DAD! DA- AAAAAAAAH!” 

“Shut up when your elders are talking” I grit out as i stepped on his leg, right on his bullet wound

The action causing Medici to shout profanities from the other side, I muted myself and called a man over, whispering to get the family out of here as quickly as possible and that my cousins could stay or leave if they wanted to. He nodded acting my orders out in an instant.

I turned my attention back to the boy who was poorly attempting to push my foot off him, I unmuted myself and stepped hearder letting his father hear his pain. 

“Oops.” I removed my foot making the boy slump down in exhastion, and Medici went off again 

“-YOU! IM GONNA RIP YOU APPART IF YOU HEART HIM”

“How stupid are you Med! I already have, now shut up before i kill him right before your eyes...” I watched through the screen as he fell into silence, I could feel the anger rolling off hime even from here.

“Now what would happen if my dear Med, found his youngest sons head dilivered to his doorstep? What would happen If i sent him a present filled with my love every day? Guess what could they be?” 

I looked down at the boy, who could only look at me in cold sweat

“DONT YO-”

“-SHUT THE FUCK UP MEDICHI!” I shot his son once again, this time in the palm

“That was your clue boy, now GUESS.”

“I-I dont know”

“One piece of you every day... with a handwritten note and a special picture of me posing with you, or at least whats left of you every time, special fan sevice, I would never do this for anone else Med and you know it right! Oh the pain he’ll be experienceing, even imagening it brings me happiness.”

“Y-You cant, if- if you do that, you’ll cause an all out war between our familiess” I raised my gun and shot. him again, this time the oposite palm which was covering his abdomine. I flipped the camera to myself.

“MAX-”

“That one was for you Med. I dont understand you dumb your son could be” The abrupt action cutting him off “Does he not realise that we’re already in a war! Especialy since you started it!”

“LUIS!-” 

BANG! I shot his upper shoulder

I flipped the camera back to his son

“It’s been nice taling to you Med! Hope we get to do this more often! Its the most fun I’ve had in years”

BANG! This time i shot him in the chest, laughing as he tried hard to breath with a punctured lung

“I’LL KILL-”

“Yeah, Yeah you’ll kill me and yada yada ya” I rolled my eyes and helled the gun to the boys forhead “Say bye” I smiled as the boy screamed for med and I

BANG!

“MAAAAAAAAX!!!” I wiped the blood stain off the phone and turned the camera to me, MEd was staring at the screen in shock, “Expect some presents from me, soon dear friend”

“I’l-”

Annoying, The smile on my face slipped off, as my mood darkened. I switched the phone off just as the boys body hit the ground, and threw the phone on the ground shooting it several times, incase it had been wire trapped.

“Give me a knife” I knelt down and raised his pointer finger and cut it of, then ripped a piece of his bloody shirt and placed the finger in it, pulled out my phone took a selfie with it and the lifeless body and sent it to dear Medici

“Parcell to be collected soon, adress will be sent shortly”- Sent

I then wrapped the shirt around it and passed it to one of our men, “They probably still have cameras watching their old yard, deliver this, you know throw it into the porch in a big red box, and return with no injuries”

“Yes Boss!” 

“Put the body in a fridge somewhere and preserve it” I watched as they carried the body and left

The gang stood behind me staring at me with fear and pride. I looked down atmyself and realised my once white shirt,, was soaked in blood, with a few pink patches, the blood of my uncle, mine and probably a few bastards was most probably on my face too.

I walked towards Luke my oldest cousin, and took a napkin out of his front suit pocket, which was still reasonably clean with a few splatters of blood. And i wiped my hand, I looked towards my uncle who was laid on the ground with alex staring down at him witha blank expression.I suddenly stumbled and watched as my vision blured, but my stubborness let me take a few more steps each step dragging more than the last, as pain gripped onto my mind before i started to fall forward, my eyes fluttering shut with the sound of my name being shouted echoing through my mind, my eyes trained on my uncle as my vision blured with people running, probably in panic. A tear slid down the side of my face, as i accepted the darkness with open arms. Hoping I’d meet him soon...

********

Maybe ill end it here or not...dunno

#sad story #short story #mafia #action #pain #revenge #sweet #death #sad #story #prompt #exciting #funny #crazy #grief #guns #blood #tears #part2 #Mafias sweet revenge Pt2

[theangrypokemaniac]

@nyarthsis

If Team Rocket 'always had a heart for unpopular Pokémon', that's an admission their Alola catches aren't particular loveable creatures, so I'm not thinking anything too controversial.

You're saying they take pity on the animals no one wants, as in it's normal for me not to find them adorable.

Some Pokémon, such as Lucario, become fan favourites without the advertisement of a regular role the anime. With Wobbuffet, Bewear, Stufful, Mareanie and Mimikyu, do people like them for themselves, or because of their association with Team Rocket?

I think its the latter. I can't imagine there would be such interest in them were they to be owned by a Twerp or appear as a one-off. Really then, it's not what or who they are, it's to whom they belong that matters.

Alola has really devalued catching. Rather than be true to the source material, so battering a Pokémon into submission, as Ash did with Bulbasaur, Primeape, Muk, and many others, now you have to ask their permission!

Bewear didn't even get that. She hung around for no reason, and her 'friend' Stufful was belatedly tacked on. I see why those two were left behind, as Team Rocket had no right to take them elsewhere.

In terms of welfare, Mimikyu and Mareanie are better off staying with them, free and safe, rather than locked in the insalubrious depths of H.Q., but then it never bothered the writers sending previous Pokémon into an uncertain future, so what difference does it make now?

It can only be that, like their predecessors, there is no intention to ever bring them back, but unlike the rest, the fans can't even be allowed the vain hope of a return, not with this rather awkward disposal.

It's feasible that Jessie and James could call their base and request old monsters to join them, but it's difficult to imagine they'd fly across the world to Alola, wander through the woods, pick 'em up and go all the way back again. Why make parting so final and irreversible?

It does imply that Game Freak don't like them, so why should I?

I keep noticing this fickle attitude. A new era starts, we're expected to fall instantaneously in love with every element, beg for more and yet more. Then, once the next region arrives, this adoration asked of us is meant to evaporate and immediately transfer to the next batch.

Well why start to like them, if eventually the makers don't care, to the extent you wouldn't even know previous Pokémon had ever been alive?

Have you heard one mention of Seviper, Yanmega, Dustox, Cacnea, Carnivine, and Mime Junior since they left?

Why were they happy to chuck Wobbuffet after Sinnoh, yet fetched for Kalos?

How could Team Rocket live without it for an entire generation but suddenly it's indispensable again? What do you imagine the rest of their Pokémon felt about that?

Have Jessie and James wondered allowed how Arbok, Weezing, Lickitung and Victreebel are doing?

What of the last two generations?

What is this nonsense where every character is so detached from the past?

Supposing I was to force myself to appreciate them: since they've gone, never to return, I'd be dissatisfied with the show, thus no better off than I am now.

My feelings don't run on a switch. I can't find myself besotted one minute then dump the object of affection without a second thought, just because Nintendo want it from me.

Even if I had a more positive opinion of the current interpretation, there's no benefit to becoming involved when it's all so fleeting.

Mareanie is ugly, with three teeth. I think he's a sea anenome, so ought to be more attractive, but it's covered in nipples instead!

It looks like a bonsai tree growing breasts, reminiscent of the hideous content lurking within an Hieronymous Bosch painting.

The idea that all Mimikyu copy Pikachu, the most famous Pokémon, when in their world it's nothing special, is too stupid for me to accept. How could that be coincidence?

It's referencing reality, acknowledging the real world's view of Pikachu as the star, so if it's breaking the fourth wall, it invites disbelief.

Wobbuffet does sod all. It's a complete dead weight and has no attacks. Yet it's the one to survive generation after generation. Where's the logic in that?

I suspect his popularity rests on being there so long he's considered part of the furniture, the sole catch in which you can invest an emotional connection whilst fairly certain he'll remain around.

By now it ought to have developed some semblance of a personality, but it's as faceless as ever. Other Pokémon that have been and gone had a bit more about them, but Wobba's so bland no one can summon the energy to write him out.

If he went, what would you miss? Breaking out of his ball and hissing 'WAAAAAHBUHFEH'? Is that so integral?

I have several objections:

What is it meant to be?

Why does its tail have eyes?

Why is that never mentioned?

Is it a sort of quadruped, or has it only one foot with four toes, arranged like the bottom of a medical walking stick?

A lot of my reactions to Pokémon are influenced by encountering them in the games. With Wobbuffet, I remember first coming across it in the cave near Blackthorn City, and just as you're winning the fight, it pulls out Destiny Bond and suddenly you're both down.

When you finally get one, it's tricky to train. You have no choice but to guess whether the opposition will launch a physical or special move, and mostly you get it wrong. He never learns anything else and doesn't evolve, so it's that forever.

Persevering with Magikarp is worthwhile, but what's to be gained from taking any time out to fight with Wobbuffet?

The anime eliminates this problem. You're aware of the nature of the approaching onslaught because you can see it coming, and the opponent said it aloud.

In this context Wobbuffet should be the most powerful Pokémon in the universe. Come on, it can deflect every attack!

Is it? No. It has a successful defence about once a generation, and still loses the battle. I can't say if it's worse to be utterly pointless, or to not fulfil one's potential.

I resent it muscling in on the motto, as if it's considers itself of equal rank to Meowth. No it's not!

When I was young, there was a tendency for magazines to refer to Team Rocket as a duo. Meowth was judged to be in the same position as Pikachu: a main character yes, and valuable enough to be accorded the privilege of liberty, but still very much owned by people.

You would see references to Jessie and James as his Trainers, though how they assumed this worked went unexplained. Even if shared, one had to have to caught him, thus be his proper owner.

Later on this developed into them being three equal members, and the term 'TRio' emerged, but now, although perhaps not officially recognised, there's an attitude of treating them as a quartet.

It's just wrong! Wobbuffet's not been around since day one. He didn't join Team Rocket voluntarily because he had nowhere else to go. It was a choice made for him by his original Trainer, so out of his hands, or rather his flippers.

If he was an independent Pokémon who just tagged along one day, that would be different, but it belongs to Jessie. Promoting one of hers means James is lesser, and no longer equal.

In each generation Team Rocket catch at least one local Pokémon, but as Wobbuffet's there, it ends up with Jessie having more on her side than James, and I dislike the imbalance. Plus the one he does get is violent.

It can't be solved by giving him another new one, as then he's captured two in the region, and she has only one, so again it's skewed.

Whilst Wobbuffet does count in numbers, he's not on the level of the rest, who fight regularly. He's both there and not simultaneously.

I'm still irked the way Lickitung was ejected to make room.

It was the best Pokémon they ever had! It took out Pikachu, Vulpix and Bulbasaur with one move! It would've won those Princess Dolls for Jessie if the writers hadn't changed the rules so that Lick only affects those of sound mind!

It was as if they realised their mistake too late, and so Lickitung was featured less and less to avoid it dominating a fight, then hurriedly traded away for something reliably feeble.

The following analogy you may not understand, but I think it fits rather aptly:

There's a game called Final Fantasy VIII. One of the side quests involves you racing through a castle under a time limit. If successful, you are rewarded with Odin as a Guardian Force, which is a deity that will provide a defence.

Unlike others, he is out of your control, but every so often, as you enter battle, he turns up and annihilates your opponents. It's very welcome.

Unfortunately this game was programmed by bunyips, who clearly didn't want the last section of the game to be accidently easier for you. Oh no. If you're progressing, it ain't gonna be through luck, or turning the console on and off until he arises.

Therefore, towards the close, you come up against ex-friend Seifer. Odin is fixed to rush to your aid, but when he does, bloody Seifer slices him in half, horse and all!

He killed Odin, the ancient King of the North! The Lord of Valhallah! The Father of the Vikings!

It's not normal fighting death, it's irreversible. He's gone for good.

After this Gilgamesh introduces himself as a replacement. He too will randomly appear and set about the enemy.

The problem is that whilst Odin destroyed monsters unfailingly, with Gilgamesh it's a rarity.

He uses four swords, and which you get is also a lottery.

One is the same as Odin's, two deal average damage, but not death, and the worst one depletes 1 HP, so it might as well not have bothered.

Not only does it arrive but a fraction of the time, but it's in a fraction of those times that it's of any assistance, which is something of a comedown.

Lickitung is Odin: didn't see it often, but it tore the place apart!

Wobbuffet is Gilgamesh: once in a blue moon it provides rescue, but it's on a lot lower percentage than it's predecessor.

It's difficult not to be disappointed.

#team rocket #wobbuffet #mareanie #mimikyu #bewear #stufful

[anditendshowyoudexpect]

There remains a stigma attached to the word ‘breakdown’, when actually it’s a very legitimate response to life in the early twenty-first century. We are not designed for the non-stop world we live in, the pressures put upon us, and those we bring upon ourselves. For young people, especially, those pressures are becoming ever more intense. Social media, the battle for jobs, the speed with which we judge – it’s a lot easier for kids now to be made to feel inadequate in so many different ways. I worry about what any child picks up in their subconscious just through their daily interaction with the world. Societal pressure has got worse for children, and I hope my own experiences will make me better able to help my children tread that difficult path.

*

Billie was magnificent as Rose. I knew she was good at the time but looking back now I can see her absolute brilliance. It reminds me how much we loved working together, which is palpably obvious on screen. Actors work at chemistry; it doesn’t just come with a snap of the fingers, but we were fortunate enough to have something there from the start. We were also professionals and knew how to achieve on-screen banter. What truly amazes me is I know how nervous Billie was at the start. She thought I was some big serious performer and she didn’t have the belief in herself as an actor. She proved herself, of course, to be way better than any of the rest of us. Her luminosity on screen comes from herself, not those around her, and instinctively she made Rose exactly the person she should be. When Doctor Who won a BAFTA for Best Drama, it was Billie for whom I was truly delighted. The reception she got when the show was screened made any lingering reservations on her part about her ability evaporate. It was admirable in her that she had zero arrogance that she could do it. The work she has done since has shown her to be worthy of every accolade that comes her way.

Watching our characters now reinforces what I concluded at the time: Russell enjoys writing more for women than he does for men. If so, I’m glad – there’s been a lot of writing for men. Rose arrives on screen fully formed, one of the strongest female characters of any show of any year, painting a solid line leading directly to Jodie Whittaker. If you think about it, the relaunch in 2005 was actually the chance to create the first female Doctor. Why not do it then? Perhaps, really, we should be looking back on Billie Piper not as Rose but as the Doctor.

*

The attitude exists that, in the relationship between producer, director and actor, they are the adults and we are the children. I agree, actors can behave like children, they can be spoilt – but not this one, and not a lot of others I know. A working relationship can’t operate on a basis of master and servant. If a director, or anyone else on set, comes in and has bad manners, then chances are they’ll hear from me.

This idea that actors can be manipulated and pushed around to suit the agendas of others irritates me. On Shallow Grave, prior to the shoot, myself, Ewan McGregor and Kerry Fox lived in a flat together for a week. We rehearsed, read scenes, and got to know each other. I considered it to be a budgetary and practical arrangement, but after the film came out Danny talked about it as being a social experiment, which I objected to because to me it was like the director playing God. If Danny wanted to conduct an experiment to gauge our reaction and interaction to one another, he should have told us. Had I known, I would doubtless have gained something from the situation. Danny, I expect, would argue otherwise, that the actors wouldn’t get it. Well, I’m more intelligent than that. As it turned out, Danny’s plan was counterproductive because all it did was give myself, Kerry and Ewan a week to realise we didn’t like each other very much and didn’t get on. We had entirely different backgrounds, approaches to acting, and sensibilities. All three of us were also very, very ambitious and insecure with it. Danny would probably argue that that tension then manifested itself on screen. I think that’s bollocks. This idea of pitting one actor against another is dangerous, manipulative and patronising. The film would have been better without all that nonsense.

I’m not alone in feeling dismayed at misplaced directorial interference. Anthony Hopkins once arranged for the cast of Frankenstein to go for a Chinese meal during rehearsals. Anthony received a message from Francis Ford Coppola: ‘Francis doesn’t want you to go for a Chinese meal,’ it read, ‘because he feels it would break the atmosphere.’

Anthony Hopkins’ reaction was simple – ‘Bollocks, we’re going for a Chinese meal.’

*

In a way, Let Him Have It was an example of the British film industry bowing to American values. I hate Forrest Gump. I would like to burn every single copy of that film for the way it treats both mental health issues and women. A sexually free female character who ends up with AIDS? That tells you everything. I wanted to make an angrier, more polemical, more complicated film about a young man who deserved more than just to have the label ‘simple’ pinned to his lapel.

*

That presence, that intensity, that some people, not just Peter, have identified again comes from growing up, like most working class children, with the institutional message, ‘You’re stupid’, as did my father, as did my brothers. If you’re working class in this country, you may be able to shovel shit or push a trolley, but, ‘You are thick. You do not emote.’ ‘You are thick. You are not worthy of a decent education.’ Those central messages of unworthiness become so ingrained that they are self-perpetuating. Come up with a big word and not only are you mocked – ‘Oh, where did that come from?’ – but you mock yourself. So yes, I am intense, and that’s because there’s a lot of fierce concentration on trying to be articulate, rather than that laid-back public-school attitude to intellect that some people seem to have.

*

My dad had definitely shared with me a very visible masculinity. His appearance and actions shouted standard maleness, but the way I viewed him was different. It seemed obvious to me that, at his core, causing his outward behaviour, was a great femininity and vulnerability. My view of maleness was formed from how tyrannical my dad could be and yet how gentle. Through him, I learned to accept that the two things could coexist. I too have a masculinity allied to an intensely female side. Perhaps the difference is I’m aware of it. Dad, I think, found his sensitivity a source of conflict. For many years, I was the same. I resented it. I resented the part of me that made me different. If you are a late-twentieth-century male, traditional working-class, you are not going to like that side of yourself. I wanted to be black and white. I didn’t understand that it is the sensitive side that offers true insight in life – intuition and empathy.

*

Similarly, there’d be no bunches of flowers from Dad – none of that – and he didn’t like dancing – he was too self-conscious, too embarrassed – so Mum would always dance with somebody else.

I once went into my mum and dad’s room and saw a book, The Sun is my Tormentor, a Mandingo-esque novel of love and adventure, by Mum’s side of the bed. Seeing my mother in middle age and her desire for romance moved me deeply. It made me cry. I felt for her emptiness and also because I knew there were greater romantic novels that, because of her conditioning as being unworthy of such literature, she perhaps felt she couldn’t venture into.

*

We wrapped the production on Friday, had a party, and then on Saturday morning I’d arranged to go to Old Trafford with my dad. I was really looking forward to it – and he turned up with the season tickets from two years before. I’m disgusted with myself thinking about it now, but I gave him a bollocking. I was pissed off because I couldn’t go to the game. More than that, though, I was pissed off because he had dementia. That is shameful on my part, but genuinely that is the case. Maybe that shame is something others in the same position will recognise, an occasional presence of a selfish internal voice, one that so desperately craves ‘normality’.

I put my anger at his illness down to coming straight off the back of Flesh and Blood, with its fictional narrative so unflinchingly similar to my own non-fiction life. Amid that emotion, present as he always was whenever me and my dad knocked heads, was that little boy who was frightened of him. I definitely harboured residual anger towards him, a straight reflection of the anger he’d exhibited towards me. Sounds harsh, but he was getting back the temper he taught me. I was in control now. I’m not proud of that, and I’m not saying it’s right, but that’s how I justified it to myself.

I looked into his eyes and could see him trying to process what was going on. He was staring at the season tickets, semi-computing that they were the ones from two years ago, while trying to work out what the situation meant, and what should happen next. For ten seconds, my peripheral vision was blacked out, blinkered. All I saw was this big, fierce bird-like face looking around lost in confusion. I put Dad on the bus home, the route being familiar to him, and walked away. I rang later and explained to my mum what had happened. And then I started crying. I cried for four hours. That night I had a date with my girlfriend. I told her about it and cried all over again. I broke my heart like I’ve never broken my heart since. That moment of seeing his confusion had left a mark – not a bruise, but a deep, lasting weal. Until that point, I’d understood intellectually that my dad had dementia because we’d been told. But emotionally I hadn’t understood it at all. And then there, in the street outside Old Trafford, I’d been given a window into somebody going mad. Becoming demented. That’s the truth of it – demented. It’s a shocking word. We used to talk about demented dogs, and we shot them. When we say dementia, there’s no hiding the truth. It means people are demented. We can dress that up however we want, but there’s no denying the naked reality beneath. That day I had been presented with the stark vision of a man floundering in a maze of his mind’s own making. Not knowing who and where he was. And I’d just been horrible to him. And he was my dad.

*

Esme asked me the other day, ‘Daddy, do you like Mummy?’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘when me and Mummy met, we fell in love and had you. Having two children very quickly is hard on parents in a relationship and then Mummy and Daddy started to not like each other. Now, Esme, as you’ve seen, we are trying to be friends.’

As a child, I would have liked that level of honesty and candidness with my parents, but it was no more part of Ronnie and Elsie than it had been their parents, and so on and so on before. I completely understand that the openness switch was neither at their fingertips nor was it socially reinforced. Emotion could hold a working-class child back, make them unready for what was to come – what they were for. I am thankful to have been given the opportunity to have a more grounded relationship with my children. Before Albert and Esme, playing football, wrestling, doing a crossword or mock-boxing with my own dad were the happiest things I could ever imagine in my life. They go right to the heart of me. Now, I have a new happiness with my own children. And it is a happiness born of honesty.

The blight on that happiness is that I don’t live with them. I know I’ve yet to come to terms with that fact. This book will help, the increasing distance from the hospitalisation will help, but it’s something that will always hurt inside. The legal system could certainly help deliver balance for parents and children involved in separation and divorce. Hopefully, we are in the dog days of the Victorian view of men and women and their role in their children’s lives, which has led to institutional and historic bias. In the twenty-first century, an authentic emotional relationship can come from a man as much as a woman.

*

I wanted to throw a spotlight on the generations, the millions and millions, for whom ‘success’, defined as anything other than the basic survival of themselves and their family, was a concept of which they were denied to the extent that they were chained, leg, wrist and neck, to an institutionally blessed mindset of zero expectation. To those in charge of those institutions, the working class is as it describes. A production line of workers, nothing more, nothing less. People? With character, hope, intelligence, ambition? Forget it. Get back in your box and shut up.

I was asked a few years ago to go on the BBC genealogy show Who Do You Think You Are? I agreed and they started looking into my family tree. It says everything that the project went nowhere. They tugged aside the leaves on those branches and concluded, ‘Nothing to see here.’ Generations of working-class people dismissed. Individuals with their own hopes, dreams and stories. Not army generals, industrialists, vaudeville singers, but factory workers, farm labourers, cleaners, nothing in any way ‘sexy’ enough for TV.

No doubt if someone like me had popped up in the dim and distant, all would have been good. But why? My father had all my abilities, linguistically, physically, and then some. So, no doubt, did generations before him. I get that my life has been far more fulfilled than my father’s and those before him, but for me that makes him the far more interesting story. What do I know of life? I’m not driving stacker trucks all day at Colgate-Palmolive and then going to Bulmers and driving stacker trucks there all night. I’m not cleaning floors in a launderette like Mum. And yet how often is the story of the working class ever told on TV? I don’t mean the dross that is soaps. I mean properly told? The answer is less and less. Working-class stories don’t fit in boxsets. They don’t make money. They don’t fit the business model of selling to global TV. And yet they are the lives that talk to me, define me. They are the lives I find endlessly fascinating.

Christopher Eccleston, I Love the Bones of You

#christopher eccleston #i love the bones of you #books #such a honest sincere book he wrote #i love him even more for it #i want to quote every sentence #and i would if i wasn't listening to audio #dw #mental health

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 95 - 91

95. Duncan Laurence - “Arcade” the Netherlands 2019

2019 will forever go down as the year where Europe learned all about piano ballads and bisexuality, which we have Duncan to thank for! Inclusive icon <3 And let us be honest, “Arcade” was pretty awesome. It’s a wonderfully immersive moody ballad that connects deeply on a personal level, peppered with instantly memorable gutpunchers (”Loving you is a losing game” is both an amazing line and painfully relatable). Excellent backdrop and camerawork gave the song a vibe of palpable desolation. Major props of this camera shot near the end:

^ this is a moneymaker. Well done, Hans Pancake. 

And the most important thing is, ummm, hello, the Netherlands will host Eurovision 2020, meaning I can attend next year in person without bankrupting myself. 😍 

However, despite the fact that “Arcade” is a pretty great entry overall, it has one GIANT problem: The act is terrible, and I *will* ::cracks knuckles:: proceed to roast the shit out of it. 🤜😤🤛

Now, I understand what Hans was going for his usual tryhard pseudo-cinematic spiel. However, -and independendly from my general distaste for the ‘White Guy With a Piano’ trope (this is 2019 how is anyone still gushing over them like they’re a fucking novelty O__O)-, sitting down is always a losing game. It is a momentum-slayer, and therefore never a good idea. The fact that they kept on tweaking the camera angles during the rehearsals says enough, honestly. The Dutch tried to amend the lack of dynamism with that stupid glowing orb and I mean:

Duncan is actually a fairly attractive dude but that lightning makes him look as if he’s terminally ill. You know when you DON’T get bad lighting angles such as this? When you stand up, like a normal fucking person. 😤

Many others also critically panned that (let’s be honest) ugly-as-sin piano. The Dutch delegation responded with the usual pretentious rubbish:

um sorry wrong shitpost, hang on... ah, found the right one:

and I mean, who the fuck cares? Just because it’s ~vintage~ doesn’t mean it’s not ugly. Just because it’s ~vintage~ doesn’t mean we have to like it? Not  a single casual fan will recognize that piano as a vintage prop, just as an hideous one, WHICH. IT. IS. The pretentious elitism/glaring stupidity behind it all just makes me wanna SPITT!! 😤 Karma quickly caught up with the Dutch arrogance however when their 56% or whatever ridiculous winner odds they had amounted to... Third place with the juries and Second Place with the audience. 😈 and “Soldi” becoming the europe-wide summer hit instead of “Arcade” 😈 In the immortal words of Kim Kardashian, #ItIsWhatSheDeserves. 

________________________________________________________________

94. Lucie Jones - “Never give up on you” United Kingdom 2017

[2017 Review here]

It seems the UK is limited to ONE great entry per decade, but Lucie definitely deserving of love. “Never give up on you” transformed from the most boring song ever into a genuinely gripping support song and well, it’s really great? Lucie is a cherub-voiced seraph who carries this song into the highest powerballad eschelons and that’s no easy feat!

Unfortunately, the UK, like always, fell victim to anti-Brexit sabotage causing them to flop!! 

Damn’ you Remainers, will the bullying EVER END???? and that was the UK,

Honestly, I expected much worse given how blasé the BBC usually is towards Eurovision? It’s really not the fault of their entrants though, who always give their all and get screwed over through circumstance. Yes, “Brexit” is the buzzword being tossed around as a humorous excuse for the non-stop British failures, but let’s be honest we all know it’s just the BBC’s attitude towards ESC. Perhaps the Big 5 should have a Brexit of its own...x

_______________________________________________________________

93. Amir - “J’ai cherché” France 2016

Shock boot? Well, no I think #93 is actually a really good spot for Amir. After booting most glorious trashfests that are bad songs, it becomes time to slowly boot the good songs that aren’t trashy. 😭 

However, I do recognize Amir as a well-deserving ~Legendary~ French entry. It feels like a long time ago, but France was one of the most underperforming countries in Eurovision until Amir strolled along to capture everyone’s hearts with his irresistable magnetism <3 “J’ai cherché” is an infectuously cheerful song, with it’s toe-tapping goodness brightening up my day every time I listen-listen. 

That said, I DO have to put my big boy panties on and make a big boy decision: We’re closely making way towards the god-tier and the further we go, the less “this is a good song and little else” is going to cut it. THANK YOUOUOUOUOUOU FOR MAKING-MAKING FRANCE STRONG AGAIN, THOUGH ^__^

________________________________________________________________

92.  Sunstroke Project - “Hey Mamma” Moldova 2017

[2017 Review here]

GLORIOUS MEMELORDS <3

It came as a surprise at the time, but retroactively we all should’ve seen Sunstroke’s top 3 finish from lightyears away. Other than Olia, “Hey Mamma” has all the ingredients that made “Runaway” good, but improves them. There is EPIC SAX

There is instant hilarity of their trademark non-English (”I AM NOT THAT UNFOUNDED BOY” lmao what???)

There is a ridiculous underlying storyline (song about an angry mother-in-law / pre-marital sex <3)

There are wacky visuals, such as this ICONIC leg choreography

or the JUST AS memorable bridesmaid twist: 

It really just is the old Moldovan adage of transforming nothing into EVERYTHING using a few very clever stage-hacks, but brought to a whole higher level. 😍 Sometimes I wonder whether we are worthy of their presence, but as long as Moldova continue blessing us with their staging magic, Eurovision will be a better place.  

________________________________________________________________

91. Malcolm Lincoln & Manpower 4 - “Siren” Estonia 2010

One of the things that make Estonia my favourite country in Eurovision (as well as a top 5 country in *general*), is that they are MASTERS of the alternative genre. 😍 Eesti Laul is so fun because of... um well, mostly because of all the ridiculously named bands that compete in their NF (Vanilla Ninja <3 Tenfold Rabbit <3 Facelift Deer <3), but also because it’s a place for refuge for indie darlings, quite unlike any other ESC country.

However, “Siren” marks the only time one of said indie darlings actually won Eesti Laul and that makes them very special to me. The song is a beautiful, haunting, touching ethereal soliloquy on how lame life has been and the yearning for the strength to carry on... which, I don’t know about you, but GOSH SO RELATABLE!!! 

Further enhanced by the fact that Robin Jukhental is a lovable dork, hopping around the stage as an avatar of social anxiety, as his second-in-command absolutely WRECKS that piano <3. In other words, the exact type of entry the audience would despise but I am smitten by. ANGELS <3

#Eurovision #Eurovision Song Contest #Estonia #Moldova #France #United Kingdom #Netherlands #Duncan Laurence #Arcade #Lucie Jones #Never give up on you #Amir Haddad #J'ai cherché #Sunstroke Project #Hey Mamma #Malcolm Lincoln #Siren

[another-sonic-blog]

That Makes Us Two:  Chapter 5: Name

None one dares to say a word. The whole ride was quiet, just the waves of the ocean hitting the coast could be heard; getting stronger as the full moon showed upon them.

In silence, both hedgehogs made their tents.

"I'll be looking for the fragment by myself...I think I know where it is.", Shadow said softly.

"I'll go with you," Amy said, still a bit embarrassed from before.

"No, believe me, its dangerous. No one lives in this Island...the forest makes you see things you don't want to see."

Alright, how in the world did Shadow know so much about these places? Amy knew that he was a hedgehog full of mysteries but that fact that he was been here before intrigued her way too much.

"How do you know so much?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have been to all the Island we've been through! And people know you! Like how?"

"I kept looking for the Chaos Emeralds since I was 10, I finally found all of them some years back but..." Shadow hesitated, " that's not important."

Shadow walked away, looking into the vast forest in front of him.

Amy had never seen Shadow like this.

Anxious, determined, aghast, shaken...terrified.

And she couldn't do anything...just watch him go into the dark forest.

.

.

.

The last place on earth Shadow wanted to be...was here.

He had promised to never come back to this place. He despised it with all of his beings and although he knew that nothing was real...

deep down he really wishes it was.

"Are you ready to talk now Shadow? Last time you just ran away from me."

A blond, blue-eyed female hedgehog had been following him for a while now.

He tried to ignore her.

"Alright then, run like the murder you are."

"I am not a murder!" Shadow yelled back at her, he sighed knowing that after this mistake there was no way back.

"The leader of the Echidnas told you about it, Elena told you about it, I told you about it...and you still decided to look for the Chaos Emeralds." The girl twirled around him, brightly playing with her blue dress.

"It was a mistake...I am sorry.", Shadow looked at her, seriousness on his eyes.

The girl had stopped twirling and stopped right in front of Shadow. "And because of that...you killed me!"

"No, I-"

"YOU KILLED ME!

"Stop...Please!"

"YOU KILLED ME!"

"No!", Shadow fell into his knees as he covered his ears and closed his eyes.

"YOU KILLED ME!"

"I KNOW! I KNOW I DID! AND I AM SORRY!"

"Shadow!"

Shadow opened his eyes as he recognized the voice. Amy was standing in front of him, extreme concern in her expression.

"Are you ok? Who was that girl? Why was she saying that?"

Amy knew that she was asking too many questions and at the moment it may not be the best.

But the only way to help Shadow was to understand what he was going through. As well that Amy couldn't see the girl's face but her blue attire was familiar to her. As if she had seen those clothes before. She found this more intriguing

"I told you..." Shadow breathed slowly. "I told you to NOT follow me!

"Shadow..."

"ARE YOU THAT STUPID? DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?

"But Shadow, I-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Amy didn't say anything else, she just walked away.

.

.

.

Amy tried to be angry at him. She was just trying to help him.

She wanted to hate him, really HATE him.

But she couldn't.

Even when she says she does, she doesn't.

Yes, from the few encounters she had with him before, he was evil.

But he wasn't all that bad.

He was kind without him noticing it.

He helped people without expecting anything in return.

He protected her, even if he didn't need to.

He cared for her because he wanted to.

Shadow the hedgehog was just misunderstood.

And she wanted to understand him, but whenever she tried, he pushed her away.

"Just like I do."

Amy looked up to find Sonic in front of her, smiling.

"Sonic..."

"You are just so annoying! When we were little you used to chase after me EVERY SINGLE DAY! I hated you honestly!" Sonic began to walk around Amy, she knew that this must just be her mind playing games.

"You were so annoying that I had nothing but say yes to your stupid request...do you really think I love you? HA! I am only dating you because I feel pity for you!" Sonic said.

"No, you told me you love me!"

"I just feel bad that you wasted so many years on me! But don't worry, I'll dump you the moment you get back from your trip."

"No, you are lying!",Amy said as she walked away.

"You are walking away because you don't want to hear the truth...you know its true." Sonic smiled at Amy one more time before disappearing.

With tears in her eyes, Amy exited the forest.

.

.

.

Shadow didn't want to see Amy, at least not after screaming at her. It wasn't her fault and strangely enough, Shadow felt guilty about it. However, he didn't know how to make it right. He had made it back safely to the camp after successfully retrieving the broken piece of the Purple Gem. They just needed one more and their torture would be over. One more destination so Shadow could say bye to the pink one, forever.

It was probably better this way.

He saw her sitting down on the sand, watching the bonfire slowly burn away. In deep thought, she didn't notice that Shadow had sat next to her. A few minutes passed and none of them dared to say a word.

It was hard to describe it, but deep down they just knew that something was going on between them. They just didn't want to admit, they were too scared, too afraid and confused to even mention it. Nonetheless, it seemed like tonight could be the night, it was now or never.

"I am glad you made it back safely," Amy said almost like a whisper. Shadow stood quiet, still not wanting to say a word.

But he had hurt her, and even if he won't admit it at loud...

He had a soft spot for the pink little brat.

"When I was a baby I was 'blessed' with the power to control Chaos Energy, I am assuming my parents were afraid of me, so they gave me to the Echidnas so I could learn to control my power. I was a prodigy and wanted more. Legend has it, that if you have all Chaos Emeralds, you will possess magnificent powers! Super strength, the ability to fly through the skies...So, by the age of 10, I left the Echidnas to go find the Chaos Emeralds. Three years passed without any signs of them. One day, while in my travels, I found her... a young hedgehog named Maria..." Shadow paused and looked over to Amy, she was waiting patiently for him to continue his tale. Shadow looked over to the burning flames as he continued.

"Maria was an archeologist, the best one out there. She had pint pointed all the locations of the Chaos Emerald. I didn't want to take her with me, but she refused to tell me the locations unless I took her...And so I did. Two years passed, we visited many places around the world. Everyone warned me about the dangers of the Chaos Emeralds, but I never listened. I wanted more, I wanted to be The Ultimate Life Form...When we finally collected all Chaos Emeralds, I tried to infuse myself with them just like in the legend...but I couldn't control their power...it was just too much and I was still so ignorant! On my negligence...I ended up killing Maria."

Shadow saw how his hands trembled. shaking as he remembered the scene perfectly. Him, going Super, the immense radioactivity and power coming out of him, him trying to stop the Chaos Energy to come out of his body. Maria running towards him to save him, her falling into his arms...lifeless.

"I became the Ultimate Life Form, at the cost of my only friend's life."

After that, the burning of the bonfire was the only thing that could be heard. Amy was speechless, more at the fact that Shadow had opened up like this to her.

He had a terrible past and because of it, he couldn't move towards the future. Not to blame him, the death of a loved one-

"You..loved her...didn't you?", Amy said more to herself at the realization, but her thoughts had escaped her lips.

"No...I think I still love her...and the fact that I was never able to tell her...its the thing the I regret the most."

Amy had no other words that could describe her feelings right now. Why does her heart feel this way? Like it had been broken? Like her expectations were not met...Like she wanted Shadow to have a different answer.

Amy took a sigh, "Thank you, you didn't have to tell me all of that."

"I know I didn't have to...but I wanted to."

What was going on? Why was Shadow so...so him? In this past week that they were together, Amy felt something she had never felt before. She just couldn't describe that feeling. It was even weirder because every time she would talk to him, she would be looking at her self. Her facial expressions, her body language, and she liked it. And it wasn't as she was liking her self...she was liking him. She was liking Shadow.

She likes him.

His stubborn personality, his terrible attitude, his kind personality, the moments he would show vulnerability...

She had to admit it...that she was wrong about him.

Shadow was just more than the facade he would put in front of people.

And maybe, just maybe...she was falling for that.

The air had become heavy as they stared at each other's eyes. Amy didn't know what to say next, should she something personal about her? Or just change the topic drastically? She opted for the first option.

"I sometimes think...that may be ...I am with the wrong person..."

"What do you mean?"

"Before...I used to pressure Sonic into dating me ...so now I think that maybe...he is not in love with me." Amy began to play with her thumbs, clearly showing her nervousness. "I never said anything but...I think Sonic is too nice to realize or say anything for that matter...that he is not in love with me"

"I honestly don't know what to say...." Shadow said as he looks over to Amy. He clearly didn't know anything about love, and he preferred to stay quiet than to give bad advice. "...Amy, I don't think I am fit to give love advice."

"It's ok...I am bad at this too"

"That makes us two."

Amy left out a small giggle. Shadow wasn't only bad at love, but at making puns too.

Which only made him more entertaining to watch.

"Actually, are you ever going to tell me how you know my name? I don't remember telling you." Amy remembers asking him about it before when they were on the cave, but he had evaded the question.

"I don't remember," Shadow responded quickly. Of course, Shadow was lying, the story about how he learned about her name was embarrassing, to say the least.

.

.

.

Maria was extremely sick, and the closest civilization was Hedgehog Village. Shadow placed the small ship on the coast. He covered all his body and face with a long coat, the coat's hoodie covering his face as well.

Shadow had gained a reputation, a bad one. Everyone was looking for him, so he had to go undercover if he wanted to find help for Maria.

He arrived in the village and didn't where to go. He walked fast enough until he noticed a hospital.

He walked in and went straight to the nurse station.

"I need help, there's someone extremely sick." The 15-year-old Shadow felt uncomfortable, he had never been at a Hospital before.

"You must bring that person here." The nurse said.

"But she's very delicate! She can't move, I need a doctor to see her-"

"Sorry sir, she needs to be here, if you want a doctor to see her, you need to make an appointment at least 3 hours before the-"

"She's dying! She needs a doctor now!" Shadow had grabbed the nurse by her collar and she was about to call the guards.

"I'll go help if you keep your hands away from the nurse."

Said a voice from behind, interrupting Shadow on his act. He released the lady.

"Miss Rose, you can't leave the hospital, you are still at training.", The nurse said angrily,

"This person clearly needs our help, isn't that's why we are here for?" Amy spoke as she tried to get a peek of the covered man.

"If you leave now, then don't bother to come back. You will be expelled from this nursing training."

Amy grabbed the guy's hand and smiled at the nurse.

"Thank you for having me."

Shadow walked Amy to his ship where Maria resided on a bed, she was very sick as she tries to keep breathing.

Amy examined her checking all of her symptoms and wrote them down.

"Has she eaten something like chicken or fish recently?" Amy asked the coat man. She had to admit that he looked kind scary but if he had gone to look for help for his friend, he couldn't be that bad of a guy.

"She ate sashimi yesterday.", Shadow responded.

"Then that says it all, she has mild food poisoning, I'll give her some medicine and make sure she drinks a lot of water. "You have to be careful, if she has a weak immune system, she could have died."

Amy couldn't see the face of the man, but he stayed quiet. "...But don't worry, she will be fine!"

Shadow sighed of relieve as he heard those words. " I am in your debt..."

"Don't worry about it." Amy got closed to Maria. She pulled out a small glass container that had medicine. She put small drops on her mouth and saw her slowly react to it.

"You gave up your training to help a stranger...why did you do that?" Shadow asked her.

"A long time ago, someone helps me when I needed it the most...and I asked him the same thing...he said: I did it because it was the right thing to do." Amy thought of Sonic fondly and about that memory that made her fall in love with him.

With that, they began talking a little bit more, Amy stayed for a few hours just to make sure Maria's process was going good. As well that she tried to get to know more about the coat-man/hoodie guy. The fact that Amy couldn't see his face was intriguing enough.

"I am a bad guy and I deserve everything that happens to me but..." Shadow said as he looked over to Maria. "Not her..."

Amy didn't know why, but she felt bad for this person. She wanted to help him in any way, but as to now the only way she could help was to help his friend. Comforting words were the only thing she could give him right now.

Amy stood up from his seat, watching Maria sleep peacefully now. She was ready to leave the couple to continue with their journey;

"Just remember this, when you feel lost and have nowhere to go, Amy Rose will be here, waiting for you."

.

.

.

"Yeah, I don't remember how I learned your name...the fake probably told me when we fighting or something," Shadow said to Amy, unconsciously placing his body closer to hers.

"I don't remember telling you."

They heard an external voice, this scared them as they were both aware of the fact that they were the only ones on the Island.

Amy and Shadow both turned around towards the beach, as their eyes adjusted to see better the silhouette of the person standing in front of the.

There he was.

Sonic The Hedgehog.

.

.

.

Next: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/186781427445/that-makes-us-two-chapter-6-peace

Previous: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/186736006810/that-makes-us-two-chapter-4-sleep

#shadowxamy #Shadamy #shadamy fanfiction #shadamy boom #shadow and amy #shadow the hedgehog #shadow x amy #amyrose #Amy Rose #sonic the hedgehog #sonic boom #sonic fanfic #sonic fanfiction

[theateared]

Just a small drabble that features a kinda-date-but-not-really-because-they’re-both-dating-other-people sort of deal.  Very fluffy with some mild angst.  All dialogue’s in Hural.

                                                           _____  . ( 🞮 ) .  _____

     When Murr had first mentioned the dragon migration, Kuro had thought it was a joke.  A joke that he wasn’t getting, apparently, for he didn’t find it very amusing  -  but when Murr kept asking him to attend it with him, he got the sinking feeling that he was being serious.

     “And this ‘dragon migration’,”   he’d started, voice full of sarcasm as he stared at the other through half-lidded eyes, wholly expecting him to crack:   “Where can we see it?”

     But then Murr had given him a clear-cut destination.  Overwhelmed by his confidence, Kuro had felt inclined to say yes, if only for the payout later when it was inevitably revealed to be a fabrication.  They’d have to stop circling random places at some point.  I can afford to kill some time, he’d thought, almost snickering as he agreed.  Murr had lit up like a Christmas tree.  He supposed, in some way, that made the wild goose chase he was bound to be taken on somewhat worth it.

     “How much further?”   he asked, bag slung over his shoulder.  They’d had to travel for a couple of days using his squad car, passing through district after district until he lost count of how many borders they’d crossed.  When he’d finally been able to leave the vehicle behind he hadn’t done anything to stop the audible sigh of relief.  Even Murr had been growing irritable,  -  and he had his excitement over dragons to keep him sane.

     “Gettin’ there,”   Murr promised, continuing the short hike up the rocky cliff.  He supposed he had Killian to thank for this amazing idea, and he would’ve done so had he not revealed himself to be a total nutcase.  This was the only good idea he’d ever presented Murr with since they’d met.  He felt that that in itself took away Ryder’s right to credit.

     They ascended the cliff together in relative quiet.  Both were tired and worn, and without Murr’s steadfast determination to see dragons in real life, they may have stopped by now.  The further they went, the more curious Kuro became.  It woke him up enough to look around, taking in the dull fog.

     “If that stays we won’t be able t’see shit,”   he remarked snidely.

     Murr glanced over, then snickered.   “Shut the hell up, man.”

     At some point, the mist faded.  It was as if they’d risen above a treeline, clear surroundings totally different to the shrouded scenery below.  The rock beneath their feet became smooth, as if sanded down for walking on, and the night sky was a deep shade of indigo, stars routinely twinkling as if on a timer set by God.  The moon hung low, round and full, appearing much closer to them than it was.  As they came to a stop near the edge of the cliff, rock jutting out like the head of a shark, Murr wandered alarmingly close to the brink and peered over it.  Kuro immediately lurched forward, securing his arm in a vice-like grip.

     “What’re you, fuckin’ stupid?  Get back befer y’hurt yerself.”

     He wasn’t surprised when Murr wrenched his arm free, continuing to do as he pleased.  The Sheriff watched with his heart in his throat as his friend swung his legs over the lip of the cliff, feet dangling, tempting the abyss forth with every candid swing of his feet.  He could see it now: fate reaching up like a hand beneath the bed, talons wrapping tight around the man’s ankles and dragging him into the dark below.

     He went and sat beside him.  If the talons came, they’d be claiming them both.

     “So, I ended up researchin’ this myself since the source is less than reliable,”   Murr started, dipping into his jacket pocket and retrieving his notepad.  It was flipped open, relevant page marked with a thin threaded bookmark.  His neat cursive scrawl was illuminated only by the moon.  Part of Kuro felt that was right;  Murr’s ramblings were meant to be consumed by low-light.   “They’ll come soon.  Apparently they pass here headin’ west.  Nobody knows where they’re goin’, just that they won’t be back for at least a millenium.”   He looked at him then, crimson gaze full of wonder.  The light pooling there was more than just the moon.   “I’m so excited that I can barely stand it.  T’think I’m gonna see dragons in real life…!”

     “Did y’have doubts that they existed?”

     “Well OBVIOUSLY!  I mean, you know how majestic ‘n’ perfect they are!  I thought they were just works of fiction.  Cool mythical beasts.  Kinda ironic now that I think about it, though--  for me, they were trapped in stories the same way that princesses were trapped in towers.”

     Kuro thought briefly about the statement, then decided it was endearing.  Murr’s mind had always fascinated him.  When they were children, his friend’s imagination had seemed endless.  He’d been too young to understand the extent of their childish games.  Aléjandro Murphy had never played pretend ‘normally’;  he’d dragged Kuro through cyberspace;  made them live as fugitives in treehouses;  had them both fighting monsters and evading curious ‘men in black’ while carrying the secrets of the universe in their socks as they charged through thick woods and streets tinged by the coming of sunset…  they’d been to the end of the world together, even if only in their minds.  Now that he was there, tempting fate by sitting so precariously, only their silhouettes visible from a distance, courtesy of the moon’s pallid glow, it truly felt as if they were the only ones in the universe.

     Do you feel that too?  That undeniable comfort?  I think you only feel that kind of comfort if you know you’re with a person that makes death seem small.

     “Oh, look!”   Murr cried softly, arm sweeping wide as he gestured towards a curious glow in the distance.  This is the most alive you’ve looked in decades.   “They’re comin’!”

     Kuro would be the first to admit that he felt slightly mystified when the dragons finally showed up.  They were little more than tiny blots against the night sky at first, seeming to move slowly, though when they got closer, Kuro realised how wrong he was.  They were flying in a coordinated cluster, scales giving off the illusion that they were glowing as they passed the full moon.  Murr had gone rigid, holding his breath, eyes glued to the beautiful spectacle as the dragons darted past.  Kuro’s breath was stolen as one curved particularly close, blast of air billowing past them both like a gale as the creature disappeared into the night.  Despite its quick departure, they’d both gotten a good look at it  It was a lot like a plane in that they underestimated just how big it was when it was far away.  Its true size, though hulking over them incredibly briefly, had been staggering.

     They came in droves, appearing suddenly and vanishing just as quickly, like comets, like shooting stars, large wings blocking the light, long tails serving as their cosmic trails.  Though he wasn’t able, all Murr wanted to do was get up and follow one.  Maybe if he wished hard enough, he’d take flight and follow the beasts into a new age.

     Speaking of wishes…

     When Kuro finally turned his head, prepared to tell his friend just how stunning that display was, he saw Murr clasping his hands tightly together, eyes screwed shut.  He thought he could see the slightest hint of a tremble, as if his body was clenching in pain.

     “What’re you…  doin’?”

     “Shh.  I’m makin’ a wish.  My notes said it was a good idea.”   When he heard Kuro snort, he tacked on a defensive:   “Don’t laugh, this is serious business.”

     “How old are you again?”

     “Old enough t’feel like I need a good wish or two.”

     As per his request, Kuro fell quiet, though not without a derisive huff.  The silence somehow felt alive with a power that he could not place--  as if he’d stepped into a slice of time that was far bigger than he was.  Eventually, Murr relaxed in place once more, eyes opening and regarding the moon with an almost crestfallen glint.

     “So?”

     Murr turned his head slowly, one eyebrow arching.   “‘So’ what?”

     “Wha’d y’wish fer?”

     Murr’s mouth fell open, eyebrows knitting together before he reached out and swatted at Kuro’s leg.  Somehow, the Sheriff had offended him.   “C’mon!  Don’t y’want my wish t’actually come true?  Don’t try t’sabotage me like that!”

     “Wishes don’t come true, Murr.”

     “Not with that attitude.  No wonder the stars have never aligned for you, y’fuckin’ grump.”

     That was part of the reason he was so reluctant to confess the truth.  Though he echoed Kuro’s sentiment deep down--  beneath all that childish wonder was an adult pain, something so tumultuous and raw that it dispelled mystique by force--  some desperate part of him wanted to believe that making a wish would do something;  that just this once, the universe would hear him, heed him.  The second reason that he didn’t want to say something was because it was cruel.

     I wished for you.  I wished for us.  Even though I know it can’t happen.  Even though we have lives completely separate of one another now, I wished that we could return to the way we were.  I wished that you would open your eyes and see me, see how much I’m hurting and take me in, take me in even in spite of your marriage.  And that’s why I’m even more sure that you’re right: this wish won’t come true not only because they don’t, but because even if they did, divine intervention would turn a blind eye to such selfishness.

     “C’mon,”   Kuro prodded, legs stretching before he relaxed once more, head resting on a shoulder as he gazed imploringly at him.   “Tell me.  Quit actin’ like a child.”

     The eye contact sent a jolt of electricity through him.  Though he knew that Kuro had trouble with face blindness, it really felt like he was seeing him, that he was able to see through his eyes and to the truth without him needing to say a word.  His mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry, a familiar heat crawling up the back of his neck.

     Have I already exposed myself?  Does he know?  Think of something.  Say something.

     “Hah…”   He forced a smile, glad he was sitting down for his knees suddenly felt weak.   “... I wished for a new season’a Passcode.”

     The silence stretched between them, eyes locked on one another’s before Kuro tore his gaze away with a harsh laugh.  Though it stung slightly to have such disapproval aimed at him, Murr couldn’t help but feel relieved to receive his scorn.  It was much better than receiving his hatred.  Had he kept pushing, he might have ended up saying something that he’d regret.

     “Are you fuckin’ serious?  That shit makes me sad.”      “Big words for a guy who had--”       “Shut the fuck up.”

     He did.  While Kuro spent his time snickering to himself, Murr tried to recuperate, tried to duct tape his feelings back together.  He was glad that he had ‘embarrassment’ to blame for the slight hint of colour on his cheeks.

     “This was nice though…  it was everythin’ I hoped it’d be.  Thank you for comin’ with me, Kuro.  I know this…  wasn’t exactly your idea of a weekend but this was important t’me.  I really appreciate it.”   He fumbled almost nervously with his hands, unable to keep looking in his direction.  As soon as he was facing away from him, he felt slightly better. Regardless of the wish, he knew that this was a memory he wouldn’t soon forget.

     “You kiddin’?  I originally came because I thought y’were jokin’ ‘n’ I wanted t’be there fer the fallout.  But this night has actually been one of the best I’ve had in a long time.”

     Murr tried to keep himself from lighting up too much too quickly.  Knowing that Kuro had had a good time made him feel so happy that he couldn’t put it into words.  He suddenly felt shy, like a school boy that had been confessed to.  If only that was so.  He knew it was pointless to hang on like he was--  hell, he knew he should let go for his own sake, nevermind Kuro’s--  but every time he felt close to unearthing the cumbersome feelings that had rooted themselves deeply into his heart, he felt Kuro replant them.  It was in that quiet intellect, that reliable resolve, that rare smile…   no matter how hard he tried to let go, he couldn’t do it.

       You were almost mine.  That idea haunts my dreams.

     “I’m glad…”   he admitted, staring out into the dark night sky, feeling pleasantly lost.   “You don’t know how glad I am t’hear that.”

#☆ — i never promised you your dream boy. ❜ ( main. ) #☆ — i'm just here to destroy. ❜ ( ic. ) #drabble * #/ murr's gay and sad what else is new

[elellan]

Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games) Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford  

CHAPTER 12. LIFT ME FROM A WORLD OF PAIN

O Maker, hear my cry:

guide me through the blackest nights.

Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked.

Make me to rest in the warmest places.

"Aren’t you gonna greet an old friend?".

He had barely entered his study and approached his desk when that mocking voice rang out behind him. So it was true. Even if he had desperately tried not to believe what Leliana, a furious Cassandra and even the Inquisitor herself had told him - it was all true. The slightest feeling of a newborn headache rose in his mind.

"Come, shake my hand".

She was standing beside one of the doors, all mockery and sass, the staff on her back enormous and showy. Her grin was diabolical. 

"What are you still doing here?", he managed to say, reluctantly shaking her outstretched hand.

"One would expect a warmer welcome from a former companion in arms!".

He grunted and turned towards his desk, he had work to do. "You haven't answered my question".

"I've come with news for your Inquisitor. Already delivered them. Varric has asked me to linger around for some time and I thought 'Why not!'".

"Of course you did...".

"And why not pay a visit to Cullen, check on how he is doing".

He glared at her.

"Well, he is in high spirits, as always... . I must say that your new boss looks like a clever woman. It's a great improvement compared to Kirkwall, don't you agree? Strong supporter of mage rights. Who would have guessed that Kirkwall's Knight-Commander- oh sorry, it's just Commander now, right?". She was looking dismissively at her nails. The nerve of that woman…  

"I trust that since your business here is finished you will leave us for good?".

She grinned again, he knew that there was nothing he could say that would make her even flinch. 

"I've got a mission to accomplish with that Inquisitor of yours, Commander". 

Maker, his head was going to explode- if only a spell purge would exhaust her capacity to rant. 

"We're going on a trip to Crestwood and then, who knows...".

"Unfortunately, I already know what you’re up to. I trust that you won't endanger Lavellan unnecessarily-".

"Cullen, do you honestly believe that I would endanger-”.

“Yes”.

“That was quick”.

“Did you understand? Do not endanger Riw- the Inquisitor-”, he growled from behind his desk, cursing himself from having let that name almost slip from his lips.

“So Varric was right, you have a bit of a soft spot-eh? I shouldn't be the one to talk though-".

"What-?!". She was laughing carelessly, as if she hadn't just said the most unbelievable absurdity. “It’s not- I’m the Commander of the Inquisition and it is my duty-". That obnoxious smile wouldn’t leave her face. “Nevermind that. Have you understood what I’ve told you?”.

"Yes, yes, yes I have. Your duty, your job. Well, some things never change. Don't worry Cullen, I'll bring her back in one single piece. And if anyone dares so much as touch her… fireball to the face, just like old times. Trust me".

 He sighed. He remembered all too well Kirkwall’s last battle, one of her fireballs missing him by an inch, its smouldering body passing near his face, even though apparently it was directed to one of those walking statues... “I’ve got your back!”, she had yelled at him. No, he did not trust her. Not at all. But what could he do? Her help would be vital against Corypheus - if that warden friend of hers was even the slightest reliable. His headache was becoming unbearable.

“Right…”, he grumbled.

She finally took a few steps towards the door. Maker, just go away.

"Not even a single hair will be plucked from that pretty head!".

She was gone. Praise Andraste. But the headache tormented him all day long.

Dorian asked him to play chess. He managed to win, in spite of the headache. 

The night was sleepless too.

There was a bottle of lyrium in one of his drawers, but he didn't drink it.

O Creator, see me kneel:

For I walk only where You would bid me.

Stand only in places You have blessed.

Sing only the words You place in my throat.

Get up before dawn, check on guard rotations, train with Iron Bull -if he was already awake, which was not likely-, receive morning reports and start working on his own reports, attend war council, deliver orders to the awaiting Inquisition's strongholds, train recruits, check on reconstruction progress. The headache didn't want to leave him. 

Josephine kept on singing a ballad about the Inquisitor and Hawke for their whole meeting. Leliana joined her too. Sweet Maker, was it ever going to end? Now it stuck to his head too.

Dorian asked him to play chess again. He guessed he could spare half an hour.

Cassandra forced him to go to the Herald's Rest to have dinner. He wasn't hungry at all, he was nauseous and all that chatter in the tavern made his head throb. He couldn't understand, why couldn't he eat in the main keep, in that canteen near the kitchen? 

The Inquisitor did sometimes, Josie and Leliana did so too, not to talk about Varric or Madame De Fer... . 

Cassandra was right though, seeing people made him lose his concentration on other matters. Surely she meant the lyrium, but he didn't want to miss his pace with his work. And the bard kept on singing that idiotic ballad all over again.

When he finally came back to his quarters he was feeling worse than before. He shouldn't have gone, he knew it. He looked at his desk: a letter from Mia. Another one. He didn't have time to answer, he would read it tomorrow. 

Another sleepless night. He woke up three times from eerie dreams. This wasn't good.

The bottle of lyrium was still untouched.

My Maker, know my heart:

Take me from a life of sorrow.

Lift me from a world of pain.

Judge me worthy of Your endless pride.

Get up before dawn, take a potion for the headache, one for the nausea, pray their effects will last all day, check on guard rotations, train with Lysette -it made him think of Haven, of the time when he had trained Lavellan with daggers-, it was too hot to train, nausea gnawing at the pit of his stomach and the back of his tongue, receive morning reports and start working on a reply to Rylen's ones, it was impossible to write with his hands shaking like that - Maker, steel my heart, attend war council, keep focused on their words - the Inquisitor was worried about the Dales,  continue to deliver orders to the Inquisition's strongholds, train recruits - exhausting, check on reconstruction progress.

Maker, I will not forsake You.

He saw her walking towards him that evening. She was surely going to check on her new mount, a halla. He had gone to see it too, since Master Dennet had called it "a fine beast".

She saw him and walked towards him. He had seen her only scarcely during the days before, walking, no, sulking around Skyhold, submerged by scouts and work. 

She had entered the Inquisition with such a bold, careless attitude. Now, after they had bestowed that title on her, ‘Inquisitor’, she looked overwhelmed.  

She sought counsel from him concerning her new role. 

"I'm sure you'll do it justice. We advisors will make sure that you won't carry the weight of the Inquisition alone".

Bad answer? She didn't reply for a moment and then gave him a sheepish smile.

"We'll see how long it takes for me to lure disaster upon us all again!".

No, that wasn't acceptable. She wasn't Hawke, she didn't lure disaster. How could he tell her? His headache was pounding. He was tired.

"You shouldn't blame yourself. Nothing that happened was your fault. Haven couldn't face an invasion and you managed to save us all- I mean... . You have proven yourself, Inquisitor, you will adjust to your role in no time".

"If you say so...". He had got it all wrong again. Maker.

"Here, let me debrief you on our situation, Inquisitor". He told her about the army,  the undergoing work on the barracks and the civilian quarters, about his work on guard rotation, area exploration, planning for fortifications. 

"Very well, Commander!", she said. She seemed in a better mood now. Glowing green eyes- had he seen them in one of his dreams? No. 

"I must also recommend, Inquisitor", he went on. "That we pursue these red lyrium templars as soon as we can. They are dangerous and if we manage to find out where they smuggle the lyrium-".

"Yes. That may be a good start, dismantle their supply chain and weaken their forces".

She looked at him, one of those looks that she had in Haven. It made him smile.

"Exactly. Excellent work, Inquisitor”..

He had barely thought about what he was saying, had he actually teased her a little bit? 

Well, it didn't go missing on her.

"Commander, I dare say that I am impressed by the amount of work that you managed to do in this little time-".

"It is only my duty".

"Yes, indeed. But does your duty come before your hours of sleep?". He froze. She was looking closely at him. What did she mean? Had she discovered it? Was it so evident?

"This seems hardly the time to sleep", he managed to say. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. His head pounded fiercely and his hands were cold: working was the only way to escape from it all.

"I know, I- I am just saying that- it's just that you seem tired".

He had got it all wrong again. But he couldn't let her see. He was not a child. 

"Your concern is ill-founded, Inquisitor. How are you instead?".

That had been close. They chatted for a few minutes more, but she seemed disheartened by their conversation. She left. He watched her walking towards the stables, the sun glistening in her hair, in long strides she was already halfway, her figure from afar seemed like a silhouette cut out of a children’s book… . 

And then he did something stupid, something unprofessional. Was it out of guilt? 

He ran after her and stopped her, grabbed her by her arm. A thought that had repeatedly crossed his mind coming out of his mouth without him even being able to control it. 

"You stayed behind". He gave her no time to answer and hastily dropped her arm, clenching and unclenching his hand immediately after. "You could have... I will not allow anything like the events at Haven to happen again, I swear. I should have done more, I- I failed my duty Lavellan, it won't happen again. It's all I'm saying. Good day".

Unprofessional. Idiotic. Nonsensical. Why had he done it? Surely she would have noticed his trembling hands when he had grabbed her arm. Maker, if only he could sleep. Just a few hours. 

Dorian wanted to play chess, again.

The bottle of lyrium in his drawer remained untouched.

My Creator, judge me whole: 

Find me well within Your grace.

Touch me with fire that I be cleansed.

Tell me I have sung to Your approval.

CONTINUE ON AO3

#mythal'enaste #cullen rutherford #cullen romance #cullen x inquisitor #cullen x lavellan #lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction

[lafeae]

Prompt: Burns

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!

Characters: Kaiba Seto, Jounouchi Katsuya

For: @badthingshappenbingo

Read: From Ch. 1 | Ch. 7 (This part)

The remnants of the charred apartment building were like long, twiggy fingers reaching for the sky.

Kaiba wasn’t surprised that it had burned to the ground. What was surprising was that half the neighbourhood hadn’t been taken with it. Every building in the place had to be built before the last world war and was held together, though only just, by greasy globs of oil and a lot of dedication to DIY work in the form of duck tape and over the top decorations to hide the holes.

Or maybe he was scrutinising the place to much. The poor district of Domino had character, to say the least. It had its own flair, much like its colourful residents. All of whom stared him down as they passed him by. It could have been the car they were staring at. Not everyday a sleek black limousine sat in the middle of their road. Though he was equal parts stranger.

Merely strange, he decided.

This wasn’t his world. These weren’t people who understood. They watched from balconies, blowing smoke and chattering gossip. He had stood for the better part of an hour, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, while staring at a burned down apartment complex. Jounouchi’s apartment complex.

It gave him the reason as to why Jounouchi hadn’t come to school for two days. Of course, he could have asked Yuugi and the rest of the nerd herd, but what good would that do him? Once he asked, they’d give him no peace of mind. Instead, he heard everything he needed to know in bits and pieces: Argument. Fire. Hospital.

Kaiba’s lips thinned. Rain drops pecked on his head. Time to go.

He slipped into the back of the car and stretched out his legs. Standing rigid in place, and mulling over the apartment and what everything meant, had made his calves sore. Beside him, Mokuba sat, thumbs pounding away at a handheld game. The boy quietly cursed under his breath before glancing up at Kaiba.

“You done?” Mokuba asked.

“Yes.”

“So are we going home now?”

Kaiba nodded, and Mokuba launched forward, ordering the driver to go. The car began to trundle out of the neighbourhood.

“What were you doing anyways?” Mokuba asked. The little blips from Mokuba’s game started up again.

“Research.”

“On what?”

“Jounouchi Katsuya.”

“Oh.” Mokuba’s nose curled. He cursed at the game again, prompting Kaiba to rest a hand on his shoulder. He apologised. “Like before?”

“In a way. Though there was no building to go into this time,” Kaiba said.

It went quiet as they drove across town. The temptation to tell the driver to go to Kame Game was there, but quickly squashed. If Jounouchi had been gone for this long, he was likely still in the hospital. Not once had Kaiba recalled Jounouchi missing class despite his deadbeat attitude towards it. Late? Constantly. But no fight or bruise had kept him from class no matter how badly it was smattered across his face.

He knew this was bad. How bad remained to be seen.

“I don’t get it,” Mokuba said once his character died. “Isn’t Jounouchi the one that broke your nose?”

Kaiba nodded. “He is.”

“So...why are you ‘researching’ him, or whatever. Shouldn’t you just leave it to a lawyer or something?”

“I could, but it’s complicated.”

Mokuba snorted. “Why do you care?”

Kaiba leaned against the window and considered the question, all the while drawing his hand to his face. A single finger pressed the tip of his nose, pangs of pain bursting through his cheeks. He saw the mess underneath. He was, no doubt, going to need plastic surgery. He’d already contacted the surgeon, he was just waiting for the school year to end.

This was Jounouchi fault. The pain and suffering. The missed days of class and work. The surgery. Why should he care was a very apt question.

The truth was, he both did and didn’t know. Jounouchi elicited a strange mix of bitter yet comfortable nostalgia combined with a touch of self-righteousness. He saw the way that Jounouchi was, how he kept his head down sometimes, and felt the draw of kinship. Understanding. With Jounouchi of all people...but then, he’d felt that draw since the beginning of their first year of high school. Things were even more complicated back then.

But that didn’t answer Mokuba’s question. Why did he care? It felt multi-faceted. Did Mokuba mean why did he care for Jounouchi’s well-being? Or why did he care for Jounouchi’s existence? Maybe it was why did he care for what Jounouchi did to him in a blind moment of anger? Or was it as simple as: did he just care for Jounouchi, period.

Kaiba sighed. “I don’t know.”

On Friday, Jounouchi still hadn’t returned to class. With a week left in the school year, the chances of him returning were slim. Unless he felt like dragging himself in for exams. Jounouchi never struck him as the type that was overly concerned about high school in general. There were bigger fish to fry, money to be made.

Kaiba could understand that. Deeply so.

That thought made his stomach clench as he stared at Jounouchi’s desk. He wasn’t hiding his glances anymore, either. He was too tired and out of it to hide his expression from his classmates. Though if any of them had paid attention in the three years since he’d started attending Domino High, they would have noticed his fixation.

It was unhealthy. It was unnatural. Anyone would have told him that he shouldn’t be looking at the bleach blond boy who couldn’t go a day without being late or getting a dress code infraction. But from day one, he’d been inexplicably drawn to Jounouchi.

After year one, he concluded it was the bruises.

The bruises painted stories on Jounouchi’s body. Not the ones that he was proud of after socking some thug in the gut. The ones that he poked and prodded until he flinched. Until they bled. Until they stopped hurting.

There was nothing attractive about bruises. Just familiar. Close. Almost warm, in a messed up kind of way. He always watched Jounouchi for those bruises and wanted to ask, but could never find an approach. Kaiba Seto didn’t approach a pleb like Jounouchi Katsuya and ask about bruises. It wasn’t etiquette. They were rivals. Well, Jounouchi thought they were rivals. He was the prick, the weirdo, the bastard. Jounouchi was the idiot, the asshole, the stupid mutt.

Terms of endearment.

Kaiba hated that he cared so damn much. It didn’t make any sense. Mokuba’s question continued to ring in his head. It kept him up at night while he prodded at his nose. Why, why, why? He was confident that having his nose broken by the idiot was grounds for not lusting after him anymore.

Then he thought about the noodles.

The almost sweet taste of the oily broth as it clung to his lips and danced on his tongue. It was kind of terrible, in a good way. It was the blood, sweat, and tears o an apology laced with a sickly bittersweet taste of not enough salt. It hit him right where it should have. Possibly where Jounouchi wanted it to, to make him accept the half-assed apology. That was fine.

Jounouchi’s continued absence wasn’t.

At the end of the school day, as everyone packed up to leave, Kaiba stood and approached Yuugi.

Yuugi smiled. “Oh, hey there, Kaiba-kun. You’re looking better.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s good,” Yuugi said. He shoved his books into his bag. “What’s up?”

“Where’s Jounouchi?”

There was a still from the group. The friendship girl looked to the ground, and Honda clenched his fists. Of course, none of them would answer. “He’s...he’s at my place. He just got out of the hospital last night.”

“I see.”

“Did you—?” Yuugi began. Kaiba nodded. “Right. I figured you did. Everyone’s sort of talking about it.”

This was getting nowhere fast.

“I need to speak with him,” Kaiba said. There was no point in beating around the bush. No matter how hard his heart pounded.

Honda sneered. “He’s been through enough. He doesn’t need to talk to you.”

“I don’t recall asking you.”

“Oh yeah? Well what’re you gonna do, make fun of him? He doesn’t need your shit right now, you—,”

“Honda-kun!” Yuugi shouted. Honda flinched and looked away. “It’s...it’s alright. I think he’s okay enough to talk. I mean, don’t you? It’s not like this is Kaiba-kun’s fault. Maybe this is something Jou-kun needs. He’s not talking to us, so...maybe this will be good for him. Aren’t you worried?” Yuugi asked.

Honda looked off. “Yeah. A’course I am.”

“And you’re worried too, right?” Yuugi asked, turning to Kaiba.

“I just need to speak with him.”

Though Yuugi said nothing, his face softened at the response. He nodded. “Then let’s go. Maybe we can all study too, if Jou-kun is feeling up to it.”

—

Kaiba offered them a ride to Kame Game, but said nothing the entire ride over. He steeled himself for what he was about to see. What damage was done to Jounouchi this time. It wouldn’t be a black eye, a busted lip, or cut knuckles. Wishful thinking, of course, that Jounouchi had come out unscathed. He hadn’t spent a week in the hospital if he was okay.

Sugoroku greeted them as they walked in. He cased Kaiba with a wary eye, but nodded as they headed upstairs.

The place was small. Even with an air conditioner humming it was humid. Sweat began to prickle on Kaiba’s back.

“That you, Yuug’?”

Slow, gentle footsteps padded from the kitchen. One foot dragging behind the other. A small but subtle pain.

When he looked up, Jounouchi hung at the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. What was left, anyways, after life had chewed him up and spit him out. Kaiba didn’t want to look, but he was frozen in place.

There wasn’t a patch of Jounouchi’s tanned skin that was untouched. Most of him was wound tight in gauze: his legs beneath his knees arms up to the sleeves of an oversized t-shirt, and his hands...his wide hands, his calloused hands, his warm hands, were rigidly covered to the fingertips in thick swathes of gauze. What wasn’t covered, like the skin of his thumbs, on his knees, or the bright red splotches on his cheeks masquerading as flush, were the gentlest of the burns.

“Kaib’? The hell ya doin’ here?” Jounouchi asked.

The closer Jounouchi dragged himself, the more Kaiba realised he had more than burns. Burns made sense. There had been nothing left of the apartment. But the yellow-green spots around Jounouchi’s eyes and jaw, and the cut on his cheek said it was more than a freak accident.

“You haven’t been to class.”

“No duh,” Jounouchi snorted. His arms widened, but fell just as fast. Jounouchi winced. “Can’t imagine why.”

Yuugi, Honda, and Anzu slipped through the kitchen and into the living room, with Yuugi mentioning that they’d be nearby if he needed anything. There was a humbleness about Jounouchi when he muttered thanks. Still holding his pride as intact as he could.

“Whaddya want, Kaiba?”

“To talk,” Kaiba said. He looked Jounouchi up and down again, continuing to catalogue his wounds. “You’re wearing he school gym shorts.”

Jounouchi’s face fell. “S’all that I got left. Shirt’s Honda’s.”

“You have yourself.”

“I guess,” Jounouchi agreed. He eased to the dining room table and sat, almost fell, into the chair. “Beats a blank.”

Kaiba sat across from Jounouchi. So submissive. More than just hanging his head quietly in homeroom. He couldn’t hide his eyes this time. His bangs were too singed. He heaved a sigh and leaned forward, moving his weight around so he didn’t use arms or hands. Besides his thumbs, a single pinky on his left hand was uncovered. It curled into his palm.

“Whaddya want?” Jounouchi repeated.

Kaiba opened his mouth and closed it. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t dead.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s true.”

“I figured it was. Jus’ when ya put it that way,” Jounouchi huffed and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Talk, Jounouchi,” Kaiba commanded.

“Why?” Jounouchi leaned back, slow and steady, but kept his chin against his chest. “There’s nothin’ t’ talk about. Nothing that would matter to you, at least. I...I don’t...I mean, unless ya wanna hear ‘bout what happened. But I don’t really wanna talk about it right now. I don’t remember it.”

“There’s always something to talk about.”

“That’s rich comin’ from you. I can’t even get ya t’ talk about the weather.”

Kaiba shrugged. “You didn’t ask the right questions.”

“I wasted my time.”

“Oh?”

Jounouchi looked towards the kitchen window. Their classmates were filtering by in waves, running after one another to get to downtown. There was a cram school four blocks away, if Kaiba recalled. But Jounouchi was half-heartedly smiling.

“Yeah. I mean, after everythin’ the most I got outta this was some stupid conversations and a fuckton of confusion, ya know? And to be honest, right now, I ain’t too worried about you or what ya want. What I did. Whatever it is that we’re doing right now, I mean—,” Jounouchi voice was tickled with laughter, “—what the fuck are we doing?”

“Talking.”

Jounouchi’s nose curled. “I meant since we started all this. Since you decided to put your nose where it don’t belong.”

“Compared to the rest of the dweebs, I’m the only one qualified to put my nose anywhere.”

“Lot of good it did ya,” Jounouchi said. He raised his hand and wiped the exposed pinky down the bridge of his nose. The laughter still lingered, and Jounouchi laughed wide and loud. “Look at us. We’re both so fucked up right now. We make a real odd couple, don’t we?”

Kaiba’s lips thinned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, you do. Weirdo.”

“Heh.”

Kaiba crossed his arms. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was because Jounouchi was so close to him, splayed across the table. His hands weren’t hands, but the pinky was there.

“You came to the house,” Jounouchi said. “Sorry ya had to deal with my old man. He didn’t say anythin’ too gross did he? Sometimes he doesn’t have a filter with strangers.”

“He was curious.”

“What’d he ask?”

“How did I get the address. How did I know you and how long had we known each other. Things of that nature.”

“What’d you say?” Jounouchi asked, his voice quivering.

It only hit Kaiba then that this may have been the cause of the not-accident. His stomach swirled violently and told him that, yes, this was his fault. If he hadn’t decided to go to Jounouchi’s home personally, this may not have happened. But he had to return the shirt and bowl. Jounouchi needed to know that he had accepted the apology, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to move on.

“Nothing. Your father doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who listens to reason. No matter what I said, he would have taken it any way he wanted to take it.”

Jounouchi’s lips parted. “So he didn’t ask you if we were...homo or whatever?”

“He may have.”

“Did he or didn’t he?” Jounouchi asked, his eyes burning bright. Before Kaiba could reply, he said, “Never mind. I don’t wanna know. Knowing ain’t gonna change what happened. I don’t wanna think about my Pa that way. Ya know he ain’t gonna make it?”

Kaiba stiffened.

It hadn’t occurred to him that the reason that Jounouchi was staying with Yuugi was because his father was dead or dying.

“It’s my fault.”

“I doubt it.”

“It is,” Jounouchi pressed. He raised his hands. “We got in a fight over...us. Me an’ you. Whatever. Before I knew it, the whole place was burnin’ and I’d knocked him out and then didn’t get him out fast enough. He’s a big guy, you saw him.”

The only thing Kaiba focused on were Jounouchi’s hands. Shaking. Thumbs and pinky curling tight. Kaiba looked past Jounouchi’s hands and to his face instead, to his stricken expression and his eyes brimming with tears he tried shaking away.

Jounouchi’s arms fell to the table.

“Keep talking Jounouchi.”

“What about?”

“Anything,” Kaiba said. “Preferably your father.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I wanna say about him. He’s gonna die, school year’s gonna end, and then I’m gonna go an’ live with my mom ‘til I’m okay enough to go and work in some factory. It’s gonna suck movin’ away from here. Her an’ Shizuka live out in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think anyone plays Magic and Wizards out there, so I’m gonna have to get a train pass an’ make sure I come visit everyone. Yuugi especially. If he ain’t too busy with college.

“You’re not taking entrance exams?”

“Hell no. No point.”

“Mm.”

“Are you?” Jounouchi asked.

Kaiba smirked and leaned his cheek against his fist. “No point. I have work to focus on.”

“Yeah. A’course,” Jounouchi said.

A silence fell between them, with Jounouchi occasionally looking up at Kaiba with brows furrowed. His expressions were terse but kind. And now he wasn’t holding onto his pride. It was falling apart piece-by-piece as he stifled back hiccups of tears and wiped his nose on his wrist.

Kaiba reached out and gently cupped his hand, barely touching the gauze. “Don’t.”

“Piss off.”

“You’ll get infected.”

“What do you care?” Jounouchi asked. “Why the hell did ya get involved at all? Why did you give me the salve an’...an’ wash my shirt?”

Jounouchi’s arm was lowered to the table, though it didn’t feel right to let go. He permeated heat like a stove. The pain must have been extraordinary, but Jounouchi held on. Always held on. Always held his head high, even as he fell apart.

“You’re not that stupid.”

“Spell it out for me.”

Kaiba’s eyes half-lidded. He reached out, his fingers dangerously close to the tips of Jounouchi’s. There was no point in being afraid of this, even if his heart was pounding rapid-fire in his chest.

Cicadas clicked through the window.

Kaiba looped his pinky finger around Jounouchi’s. The nail grazed along soft, tender skin on the inside. “You are not alone.”

“No?”

“No. Unlike your friends, I understand what it means to hide. To be ashamed. To be confused.”

The tiniest smile crossed Jounouchi’s face. The bruises, the burns, didn’t look as bad. They could get better. Time healed everything.

Jounouchi’s pinky squeezed back. “Thanks.”

There was no telling how long they sat looking at one another, sharing smiles and trying to talk but coming up short. Something tired and weak came over Jounouchi. Eventually, he slid further in his seat, but no matter how far he slipped, Kaiba didn’t let go of the hold on his pinky. Laughter burst from the living room.

“Ya wanna go study with Yuug’? They’re prolly waitin’ on us,” Jounouchi said. Kaiba groaned. “C’mon.”

“Fine.”

#ygo #yugioh #seto kaiba #fanfic #joey wheeler #jounouchi katsuya #whump #hurt/comfort #badthingshappenbingo #burns #injury

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

Aos Kirk/Reader FWB gets feels?

{ It’s for you, my dear anon ~ 

Don’t forget to like or reblog if you like my writing, that would make me so glad! }

Everyone can still ask for Prompts:

>>FLUFF BINGO PROMPTS

☀️ JAMES T. KIRK ☀️

Everyoneknew Kirk’s womanizer attitude and it was not surprising to see him always witha different girl. Captain Casanova, the heartbreaker captain, the one who nevergot fond. However, he loved all those girls but only for one night. A passing,fickle but passionate and unforgettable love. A love that was not meant tolast, maybe it was not even love but a mere adventure, but whatever it was, youcould not help but desire him and he could not help but desire you.

Youwere different but like the other girls, because you were his friend but notthat kind of friend, not a normal friend because you were more than just afriend but you were still not enough to be considered his true lover. Anundefined, strange feeling that was becoming harmful took place in your heart.The ice in your heart, because you could not fall in love with him, was heatingup and melting. Your coldness was now boiling, you were no longer able to beindifferent towards him and you were not even able to pretend that you did notcare.

Youwere really in love with Kirk, being just his friend was not enough for you andyou wanted this warm feeling, warmer than lava to disappear because it was sohot that it would have burned you if this burning sentiment would not bereciprocated.

Kirkcould not love you, you did not want to delude yourself, since he was yourcaptain and such a relationship was not possible.

Hisspirit was free, adventurous and nomadic, he never stayed on the same planet,he never looked at the same star because he got tired, he needed to explore. Everylover for him was like a new world to discover, to conquer and even to hurt.Anyone who fell in love with him had their heart broken gently. You did notwant to, so you were silent and you took the pain because you did not want tostop this relationship even if it was tying and freezing your soul.

“Itwas so great.” Kirk said, smiling happily.

“Asalways.” You said, kissing him.

“There’sno better way to start the day.” He whispered between your wet lips.

Passionwarmed his body and almost wanted to make love with you again but time was hisenemy and so he had to give up his desire.

Eventhis time, he would betray you for his ship, his only true love but you smiled,accepting your miserable fate.

“Doyou have to leave already?” You asked, maliciously smiling, a malice thatonly served to hide the sadness that slept in your heart.

“Yes,I’m still the Captain of this ship so I can’t stay. I’m sorry.” He said,grinning and then he jumped up. He dressed quickly, as if he was running away,as if he had perceived your real state of mind, but that was impossible. He hadduties and you were a way like any other to satisfy his primitive needs, thiswas the truth. It was the sad and simple reality. You were just a hobby forhim.

Kirkwent away, leaving you alone and cold in this lonely and desolate quarters.

Thisstory had to end and you had to tell him the truth, this situation was drivingyou mad.

“I missed you, honey.” He said, after a long day of hard work, he wantedhis reward, his moment of relaxation. He smiled at you, kissing your neck,blowing in your ear and hugging your body that warmed at his touch.

No,you did not want to respond to his touches, you did not want to hug him orreturn his passionate kisses. No, you had to face him, challenge your fears andconfess the feelings you felt for him even if he would refuse them. You couldno longer lie or even suffer for him.

“Jim…” you whispered but your words seemed sighs of affection.

“Iwant you…” he said, giggling and then you refused him, putting yourhands on his chest and looking at him with a cold expression that he had neverseen on your face.

“Please,Jim. I want to talk to you… ” you said in a serious but sad tone ofvoice.

“Ofcourse…” Kirk’s face darkened and he was already thinking about the worst.

“I’msorry but I cannot continue this, I don’t want to do this anymore… Not withyou…” you held back your tears, trying to stay calm.

“What?What are you saying? What happened? We’re great together, you know how much Iadore the time I spend with you.” He said, smiling softly but you looked away.

“Iknow it. And that’s why I don’t want it anymore. You consider me only duringthese moments, for you I am nothing but a game, a play date. I’m like everyoneelse…” you raised your voice.

“Aplay date? Are you crazy?” Kirk did not understand and he answered, raising hisvoice.

“Yes,I’m crazy for you… So … I’m very sorry. But every day is the same thing.You send me to heaven but the next moment I find myself in hell, I don’t know.I’m just tired.” You told him, bursting into tears.

“I’mso sorry. Why didn’t you tell me before? I didn’t think… I don’t… ” Jimwas upset, covering his head in his hands, sighing and he felt guilty.

“Whyshould have I told you? It was useless! I wanted to delude myself and I thoughtI was okay with it, but I’m not okay. You’re a free spirit, I’m not like you, andI’m not an adventure. I can’t ignore my feelings and so I believe that the onlyway is to stop, before those feelings kill me.” You confessed, you did not wantit to end like that but you could not bear it no more.

“No,no… You’re stupid!” Kirk said, angry but he did what you did not expectand hugged you suddenly.

Kirkwas crying, but he put his face on your shoulder and so you did not notice histears but you could hear his sobs.

“Jim?”You asked him, “Are you okay?” You were so confused that your voicecame out like a whisper.

“I’mso sorry. It’s absurd! How could I be so stupid, insensitive and selfish? How?”Then he looked up and smiled at you. Were his tears of joy? You did not understand.

“What?”You asked him.

“Ilove you, Y / N! I’ve always loved you but I’ve been too stupid to realize it.”He said and felt light, as if he had freed himself of a weight that suffocatedhim.

Kirkfelt the same feeling for you, even he could not believe that the great andmagnificent Captain of the Enterprise could fall truly in love but it happenedand he was content that you were his true love.

Afterthis wonderful revelation, you and he made love for the first time. Real love.

#ask #anonymous #star trek #star trek imagine #star trek scenarios #star trek headcanon #star trek aos #star trek aos scenarios #star trek aos imagines #star trek aos headcanons #star trek aos kirk #kirk #captain kirk #James T. Kirk #star trek kirk #kirk x reader #jamex t. kirk x reader #star trek drabble #star trek fanfiction

[caffeinated--writer]

First Day of The Rest of Your Life

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader (Steve x Reader)

Warnings: None

Summary: A newbie at SHIELD your first assignment is to watch a slumbering Steve Rogers. A pain in the ass or a blessing in disguise? Only time will tell.

Note: Posted on my Ao3 account, decided to post it here as well. A multi-chapter fic in which Bucky will come in during the later chapters. Don’t take/steal my work and post it anywhere else!

Chapter 1

“He doesn’t look all that special,” You thought, picking at your nails in boredom. You knew you were in the minority when it came to the excitement around Captain America, not finding him nearly so interesting and just another part of history which would often end up on your test.

 In high school, you often found solace in your mentor, Tony Stark, who was equally (if not more so) disinterested in the Captain and his achievements.

Now -5 years later and a member of the organization SHIELD- you couldn’t help but long for those days. Nobody at work could stop talking about Steve since he had been pulled out of the ice. While you thought it was an amazing feat to come out of something like that alive so many years later, you didn’t think work needed to be all Steve, all the time.

You paced around the room leisurely, the only sounds being the light clicking of your heels and the dull sound of a baseball game coming from the old-timey radio set up in the super soldier’s room, which you had heard six times since your shift had started alone. You were pretty sure you had it memorized.

 You sat down in the wooden chair close to the window with a huff. As you stared at the soldier’s slumbering face, you found yourself, for the hundredth time, wondering why Fury would assign you such a job. You were a newbie after all, and you had imagined someone as high profile as Captain America would get the attention of someone much higher in rank.  And while your ego would love to assume it was because of your superior intellect, if you had to guess it was more likely punishment for speaking out against your superior so openly.

 In your defense, you thought critiques were open! Hell, your superior, Karen, had brought you into the meeting!

 You merely stated that although you agreed with the plan to slowly break the news of the 70-year rest to the super soldier, you didn’t agree with the way they wanted to do so. Clearly, based on the fake old-timey hospital room you were sitting in with a 1940s baseball game playing in the background, no one else had agreed with you. You didn’t think voicing that the radio was a “poor (stupid)” choice to add to the room would be considered overstepping your superior -especially since you hadn’t known the radio had been her idea…

And that…that was how you ended up staring at the handsome sleeping face of Captain America damn near bored out of your mind. You were currently 3 hours into your shift. A small part of you was tempted to trace your hand over his pale cheeks, or lightly brush the blonde hair out of his face. It was clear the boredom was finally getting to you. You were intent on directing your attention elsewhere until something caught your eye.

Standing from your chair you walked toward the slumbering soldier to see if your eyes had been playing tricks on you. When his hand twitched once again you were sure what you had seen hadn’t been a fluke. With baited breath you watched, waiting to see if the movement was a false alarm or preparing for something bigger. As the shuffling continued and the closed eyelids began to flutter, you decided to call it.

Turning away from the super soldier, you lifted your arm to speak into the mic embedded into the cuff of your shirt. “Code Blue…” you whispered, the sound of rustling bed sheets keeping you from repeating the code.

 Standing a bit straighter you turned to face a (now) wide awake Captain America. For a moment he didn’t acknowledge you, too busy taking in his surroundings, but when he did everything stopped.

 It was tense as all either one of you did was stare at one another, blue eyes clashing with (y/e/c). His eyes held some confusion but were strong and could probably intimidate the average person…

Being anything but average you stared back with a subtle but strong gaze of your own.

“Where am I?” Steve questioned, not unkindly. You were stopped from answering the question when the door opened, your superior entering the room. 

“Good Morning” Karen greeted, looking down at her watch “or should I say afternoon.”

Subtly Karen nodded your way. Taking that as the signal to fall back while she took over, you stepped away from Steve. Silently, you walked over to the wall near the door she had entered through, the clicking of your heels highlighting the silence. Crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned back to observe. 

“Where am I?” Steve repeated.

“You’re in a recovery room in New York City.” Karen sent him a warm smile in an attempt to ease his nerves but from where you were standing it didn’t look like it had the desired effect. Silence again settled in the room as Steve took in his surroundings. 

“Where am I really?” Looking up from the floor, you looked at the super soldier sharply. Something was wrong.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand…” Karen replied, smile beginning to fade. With raised eyebrows, you continued to watch the interaction with caution, fully aware of Steve’s shift in attitude but unsure of what caused it in a mere matter of seconds.

“The game…It’s from May 1941. I know because I was there.” He glared, slowly stalking towards you both. “Now I’m going to ask you again…where am I?”

It hadn’t been intentional, it really hadn’t. But what was happening right now was exactly why you had voiced your distaste in the radio which, just as refresher, you had been punished for. Now because your opinion had been ignored, you were currently being backed into a corner by an angry Steve Rogers who looked like he would Hulk out any moment.

 It was truly a laughable moment…and so you did.

“He’s observant.” You chuckled, condescending gaze planted on your superior who was, rightfully, far too terrified of the super soldier standing over her to notice.

 “Who are you!?” Steve demanded. 

It wasn’t long before the room was filled with black ops, far too many if you had to say and by the look of Steve’s body language, he agreed. 

“C…Captain Rogers…”

“Don’t bother.” You cut in; eyes’ purposely ignoring Karen’s annoyed ones. No amount of pleading was going to stop what was about to happen. 

You barely had time to blink before Captain America threw a couple of the agents through the makeshift room. As you watched him jump through his improvised exit and look around the facility in confusion, your heart went out for him a little bit. You couldn’t even imagine how confused –possibly scared- he might be.

“Captain Rogers, wait!” He didn’t even spare Karen a glance. She pulled out her radio to call for a “code 13” while you took in the mess all around you, wondering how shit could have gone sideways so quick. You had spent months watching America’s golden boy without a single incident. It was an assignment you thought would be the most boring of your career and now here you were; staring out of a hole in the wall as grown men moaned and groaned on the ground around you. It seemed the Captain was intent on proving you wrong. 

You turned to Karen, eyes full of judging gleam, “So…great plan, huh?”

You watched the chaos consuming the halls with a raised eyebrow. It was as if ‘stealth’ was no longer apart of these SHIELD agents’ vocabularies. At least it didn’t look like it as they ran like chickens without heads. There was a way to move with quickness without looking like you were which you found helped you maneuver around the chaos easily. Natasha would be proud.

 You had already caught sight of Steve running out of the building and into the streets of New York. Unlike your colleagues, you knew blindly chasing after him would do no good, so here you were in the garage leaning against Fury’s personal car struggling to contain every bit of cockiness that was tempted to surface.

 It didn’t work.

 Almost the second you saw your boss approach a smirk found its way across your face and a sly comment was out before you could stop it. The feeling of being right was euphoric.

“Feel like listening to me now?” 

“Turn right.” You advised, hands clutching the door handle as Fury caused the car to jerk right.

 Agent Hill turned a stern but weary gaze your way.“Are you sure about this?”

“If you’re asking if I, a native born New Yorker, am sure of the directions I’m giving-“ slowly turning in your seat to glance at her “then yes, I am.”

 “But hey, if I’m wrong we can just tack that on to another poor judgment call from you guys.”

You didn’t give them a chance to reprimand you for the comment before barking out another direction for Fury to turn. The van jerked and turned until it finally came to a halt in the middle of Time Square.  And just as you predicted there stood Steve Rogers. 

Afraid to spoke him into running again, you began taking slow steps towards Steve. Luckily, he didn’t seem too focused on you or the chaos going on around him as he was too distracted and confused by the lights of Times Square. 

“At ease soldier!” Fury’s order snapped Steve out of his confusion. “Look, I’m sorry about that little show back there but…we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”

“Break what?” Steve’s eyes shifted between yours and Fury’s waiting for an answer. 

You took another couple of steps closer until you were shoulder to shoulder with Fury, “Captain Rogers, you’ve been asleep…for almost 70 years.” He stared. 

For a moment he just stared at you as he tried to process what you had told him. You watched confusion swirl through his blue eyes. It was only when realization finally hit did he look away from you to look all the flashing lights and sounds around him and again an uncalled for pang of sympathy went through you as you watched him. 

“You gonna be okay?” Fury asked

“Yeah, I just…I had a date…”

#steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogersxreader #bucky barns x reader #stucky x reader #marvel imagine #bucky barnesxreader #steve rogers x reader #don't steal my work #bucky x reader #james buchanon barnes #mcu imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #reader insert #capatain america #winter soldier #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #chris evans #sebastian stan x reader #chris evans x reader