#unfortunately i will continue to use whatever ship name i life best to tag posts about my favorite dynamics. you cant escape it

[muppetcube]

Abercaster (Adaine and Fabian) are becoming one of my favorite duos this season . I love my bitchy rich kid casters

#unfortunately i will continue to use whatever ship name i life best to tag posts about my favorite dynamics. you cant escape it #abercaster #dimension 20 #fhjy #fantasy high #fantasty high junior year #adaine abernant #fabian seacaster #the them ..... #d20

[acciomanorian]

Pumpkin Spice Lattes

Here’s a little drabble that I did for day 5 of Folktober. I hope you all enjoy it!! I know that it’s not technically day 5, but I finished, and wanted to post it.

As I stepped out of the apartment I shared with my sister, my immediate reaction was to pull my jacket closer to my body. I was definitely not prepared for how cold it was outside, although I should’ve known for the middle of October. I had worn a nicer jacket, more of a suit jacket than a normal one, for a mock trial I had in my Crime and Punishment class. As a pre-law student, I took care to wear appropriate clothing for mock trials, especially the ones that counted for 25% of my grade.  

Unfortunately, I was going to have to suck it up for the walk to campus, because I just didn’t have enough time to go back up the four flights of stairs for a warmer coat. Especially if I wanted to get a warm drink from Campus Coffee, my go-to coffee shop. 

All around me, people were bustling around, hurrying to reach their destination, and I quickly joined the throng of people heading towards Elfhame University. It was only a fifteen minute walk, but the frigid wind gave the appearance that it lasted forever. Taking a peak at my phone, I was relieved to find that I still had 20 minutes before class. I turned right, into the direction of Campus Coffee, only to walk into a cup of some scalding beverage. 

“Shit!” A deep voice said, obviously the owner of whatever concoction had just spilled on top of me. “I am so sorry. Here, have some napkins.” A hand stuffed with napkins moved into my periphery from where I was looking down at my jacket. 

How the hell am I supposed to get this stain out before my presentation? I continued to stare at my jacket, pulled out in front of me, as the stranger began to my jacket with the napkins. 

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.” I grabbed the napkins from his hand, finally looking up at the man trying to help me. “I don’t need help.”

“You may not need help, but maybe I can offer you a coffee. After all, I just spilled mine on you, the least I can offer is to get you a drink of your own.” His dark eyes sparkled in amusement, and also hope. Hope that I will take him up on his offer. I had to admit, the stranger in front of me was really cute, his black hair long and flowy, pulled back into a navy beany. He had a guitar sticking out from his back, although from the looks of the binder in one of his arms (which happened to also be covered in coffee) he wasn’t a music major or anything. 

I checked my phone again. 10 minutes. “Yeah, I think I will take you up on your offer for some coffee… I mean, that’s where I was heading anyways.” 

“Great!” The stranger’s smile was wide as he threw his old coffee cup into the nearest trash and made a grab for my bag, where it had fallen on the ground. I picked it up before he had the chance to, with the assurance that I could carry my own bag. “I’m Cardan, by the way. Cardan Greenbriar.”

“Jude Duarte,” I responded, receiving a look of appreciation from Cardan. I wonder what that means.

As we started walking Cardan continued to look at me, as though he was trying to figure something out. By the time we reached the doors of Campus Coffee, I was beginning to get a little concerned. “Is there something you want to ask me?” I asked as I pulled open the doors, relishing the heat that came from inside the tiny coffee shop.

“No, I mean, yeah… Just you’re the infamous Jude Duarte. Everybody on campus talks about your ruthlessness during mock trials, and how you’re going to be the next best lawyer in the world.”

“Is that all they say about me?” The line of the people in front of us isn’t long, just two people, although it seems like the person currently at the register had ordered the whole store.

Cardan shook his head, smirking. “Well, I also hear that you kick ass at collegiate level fencing, and know how to handle your alcohol.” 

“Now the alcohol might be a bit of a stretch, especially if anybody sees me when I’m drinking with friends, but I wouldn’t say their wrong about my fencing. I’m not the fencing team captain for nothing.” It was true… At the last fencing tournament, I had won gold against all of the opposing teams, including our rivals, the Undersea. In fact, under my captain ship, Elfhame’s fencing team has been number one in the country for three years. 

“Now what about you, Cardan. You seem to know a lot about what I do, but I’ve never heard of you.” I tilted my head as we took a step closer to the counter.

Cardan laughed, and I have to admit that it was a beautiful laugh. “I’m really not surprised that you’ve never heard of me. I’m a pre-med student, dual enrollment with Elfhame Hospital and all that. In my spare time, I’m part of a band, I play guitar.” He pointed to the guitar behind his back. “I also write music and poetry, and I love to read.” Cardan smiled, showing his teeth again. 

It was nice, getting to know Cardan, especially since all my life I had been surrounded by the lawyer types. My father was a lawyer, my mother a lawyer, even the majority of my friends were in law school with me. Ever since I could remember, I had spent my childhood in their offices, helping them with cases. It was something I was passionate about, but it was still nice to meet somebody with a different perspective towards life, who even though they are in med school, can find their passion outside of the competition. Usually, I only had my twin, who was a biology major against all of my parents wishes (which I really didn’t understand because there were a lot of opportunities for bio grads). 

We stepped up to the counter, and Cardan let me speak first. “A pumpkin spice latte, hot with almond milk.” 

At first, I couldn’t quite place the look that Cardan gave me, but then I realized it was joking mockery as he ordered the exact same thing, in almost the exact same tone. I shoved him as we moved over to wait for our drinks, although there was a smile on my face. 

“Really, a pumpkin latte. Really screams basic white bitch, doesn’t it?” I shoved him again, although there was no maliciousness to it.

“Basic white bitch all you want. It’s what’ll get me through my trial today, and I need to win this trial. It's 25% of my grade.” The barista at the counter called our names and we reached over for our coffees, but didn’t immediately part ways. 

“Listen, Jude… I really enjoyed this with you,” Cardan said sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit I’m sure, and something that I would totally use against him if we had been in court. “Do you maybe want to get coffee with me again? I promise, I won’t spill any on you this time.” He grinned softly, as I let out a soft laugh.

“You know what? Sure. I would love to do this again. How about tomorrow night, there’s a coffee shop downtown that I love, and they have the best chocolate crullers.” As he nodded, I hefted my bag on my shoulder and began to walk towards the door. 

“Wait!” I heard as I was walking out the door, back into the frigid air. It wasn’t as cold earlier, but that could also be because of the warmth of the coffee in my hands, or the increased beating of my heart caused by a certain boy. “Can I at least get your number?”

“If you show up tomorrow night, I’ll give you my number,” I called from where I was standing. With that, I turned back to the direction of Justice Hall and began to walk towards class. If anybody saw a smile on my face for the rest of the day, they would assume it was because of my award winning mock trial. After all, nobody expects the die hard lawyer type to fall in love with the musical doctor, right?

Here’s my tag list. If you want to be tagged, just let me know. 

@fantasyfox101

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@theoceanfaewriter

@snusbandxknifewife

@angelofmusic223

@slightlyrebelliouswriter23

@clockworkgraystairs

@sweetlyvillainous

@b00kworm

@poeticbrownmermaid

@misskillerdarkness

@emmabookworm08

#jurdannet #jurdannetrevels #jurdan #folktober2020 #coffee shop #mortal au #the folk of the air #enjoy this #i made this soft because ive been reading to much angst #tusermonique

[vividreminisce]

I Want - Chapter 2

Here’s the second chapter to my series, “I Want”. Thank you so, so much for all of the reception that I received from the first chapter! It makes me very happy to see that people enjoyed it and that there’s still some activity here in Tumblr, haha. I’ll keep posting chapters here, so please stick around!

Also, I have this series finished in ao3, so if you’d like to read all of them in one go, hop on over there and give it a read! I also gave shoutouts to authors, works, and artists that really inspired me for this series after each chapter. I feel like there’s not enough attention/shoutouts to content creators, and when I finished this series, I vowed to do that from so many of them inspiring me and giving all of us gifts for free. Still not sure if I’ll do the same on this platform, but that’s another thought for another time.

Before we continue, this chapter was written and posted before the Shadowbringers artbook, so some of the content on here will be incorrect, if you can find it, haha. Don’t want to spoil it, so I’ll keep it vague and if you can’t find it but are curious, reply to this post or send me a message and I’d love to speak about it :)

Here’s Chapter 1 if you missed it!

If you’d like to see some screenshots of A’viloh, here they are! Excuse the crappiness, I’m not the best with gpose, haha.

Okie dokie, let’s get this show on the road! Below are the tags, chapter summary, and story! Please enjoy :)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Chapter Summary: Finally arriving at the Crystarium, the Warrior of Darkness prepares to heal his friend, some companions helping him start the process.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Ship: G’raha Tia/Crystal Exarch x OC

Rating: Mature, SFW

Writing Tags: Some depictions of medical procedures (not medically trained, some factors will be medically incorrect, but it’s all for the story), Slow burn, Angst, Hurt, Healing, Comfort, Acceptance, Fluff.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“A’viloh… are you absolutely certain…?”

“I will be fine, Alphinaud. My wounds are starting to mend, and I have the energy to keep going.”

Everything that the Warrior of Darkness had instructed had thankfully gone according to plan. Lyna did have soldiers posted at each entrance to the crystal city and the ones at the Amaro launch were overjoyed at seeing the twins descend. Y’shtola and Urianger were quickly taken by Chessamile and the other healers, while Alisaie preferred to take her time walking there. Her brother could only shake his head at how stubborn she was to the very end, but she was quickly carried to an empty bed once the eldest healer saw her limping into the Spagyrics. By the time A’viloh and G’raha had arrived, Lyna was waiting for them, along with the Overseers of the city. The Warrior of Darkness shared a few words with them, telling them that he would bring the Exarch to the Tower and care for him there, and let them know of his progress as time went on. The ride to the Crystarium gave him ample time to check his wounds via healing magic (bless having his soul stones on hand rather than his bag), the damage not being as severe as he originally thought. He was grateful for the hood that obscured his friend’s face, though from their expressions, they knew of their leader’s condition. Still, they would not question the hero’s reasoning, that being on the perks that A’viloh was grateful for.

He followed the Captain up the stairs of the Dossal Gate and she opened the door without another word. They swiftly ascended the stairs to the Ocular and used the key that the Exarch bestowed to Lyna to open the room where A’viloh had the vision of the Exarch’s plans. Surveying the room, he was surprised at seeing a bed in the corner, somehow missing it when he first went in. When Lyna saw the Warrior’s surprised expression, she explained in not so many words that she found it when moving some of the Exarch’s books. Not one to question, he nodded and went to lay his friend on it. The Exarch’s breathing was still rasped, but it was much deeper, relieving the Warrior. Having felt his quick breathing against his back as they flew more than unnerved him, that being enough to realize how close the Exarch was to losing his life. Sharing a look with Lyna, he explained how the Exarch did not want to reveal his face to his people, at least not yet. He further explained that he had asked the Exarch permission to heal him, which was granted to him. A’viloh would have continued were it not for Lyna lifting a hand up to stop him. Her pink eyes never left the Exarch’s hooded face, his breathing almost deafening, despite the sound barely reaching the door.

“You have more than proven yourself to the people of Norvrandt, Warrior. If I may speak on behalf of the people of the Crystarium… do all that you can to make him as hale as he was when he left these walls. Any materials that you need, they will be yours. He is our first priority and always will be.” Despite how clear her words were, her expression said otherwise. She wanted to be strong for the Exarch… for her paternal family member. She needed to be strong. But it was so hard when she saw him in that state. What happened to have left him so weak? What little skin she could see, there was blood, dirty, sand, and wounds. His sandals had come undone, the leather straps on his left arm were slipping off, and whatever God was out there would know if his tunic could be mended. She forced her gaze back to the Warrior, stepping closer to speak for his ears only.

“He trusts you more than anyone else I know. As do I. So please… please see to him. Call me whenever you wish, and I will come running. Ask anything of me, and I will do it. It is the least I…  could do for the one that I see as family. If I can see the smile that he gave your way the first time that he laid eyes on you once more… That will be all that I will ever need in my lifetime.” The Captain finished.

A’viloh didn’t know whether to give Lyna a handkerchief from the tears that spilled at that revelation, or embrace her in reassurance. That look in her eyes told him that she needed none of those and only wanted to say her piece; she wanted to say that to him before he left to rescue the Exarch, and now she could. Schooling back his expression, he nodded and promised what was in his heart and mind. Using the back of a parchment that he found on the floor (which he hoped was to be tossed), he wrote down everything that he needed for the time being, along with what could be brought early in the morning. Lyna assured him that he would have the latter in no more than 2 bells and that she would personally bring the former in less than 1. It was in the middle of the first one that A’viloh had the brilliant idea of trying out the Linkpearl to speak with the male Leveilleur. It thankfully worked and they spoke in length of what had transpired when him and Alisaie arrived.

“I understand that the Exarch trusts you, as do we, my friend, but you shouldn’t heal him on your own… Is there naught that the chirugeons here can do…?”

“From what I can see, we should not worry as much about what can be seen. There are some cuts that I can disinfect and bandage up myself. What I am more worried about is…” A’viloh trailed off. His hand was on G’raha’s ankle, having taken off his sandals as soon as Lyna had left the room. The bed was nothing grand, only fitting one body and having a single sheet and pillow. It had some dust, most likely from the books that Lyna lifted off, but it sufficed for the time being. A’viloh sat at the very edge of the bed, not wanting to take up any more space than necessary. He knew that the leader needed to be in the Tower from how linked they were to one another, but he wasn’t entirely sure how; and he didn’t want to disrupt that flow.

Alphinaud noticed his friend’s silence, understanding his hesitation. That scene was one that everyone wished they could forget. How the Exarch was more than willing to give up his life for the Warrior to be relieved of the Light. How Emet-Selch appeared, and stopped those actions, but at the cost of a bullet to the back. Alphinaud knew of the man’s crystal condition, and he suspected it was the crystal that saved his life. As far as he knew, that bullet was still embedded there…

A’viloh blinked when the Elezen’s quiet question came through the linkpearl. “Do you perchance know how deep the wound is…?” Slowly getting off the bed, his hand came up behind the sleeping miqo’te, pressing down on the cushion as he leaned over to try to get a better look at the wound. A sharp exhale came out, not being able to see much of the wound from the fabric sticking close to the found. Running a hand through his brown hair, he carefully sat back down, hand coming back to rest on his friend’s cold ankle.

“I unfortunately cannot. I am waiting on Lyna to come back with the immediate medical supplies before I undress him. She will be coming any moment, and I do not want to keep you from resting. Before I forget… Alphinaud, please, do not tell anyone of the Exarch’s appearance, nor his name. I am sure that he would like to tell everyone in person, or at least… confront those that have already seen him.”

“Be at ease, my friend. Not a single word will come out of my lips in regards to the Exarch. I will relay our conversation with the rest of the Scions in private. Do tell Chessamile if you are in need of her assistance in getting that bullet out of him, or if not. That knowledge is not just for our relief but for theirs. Some of the healers are already talking amongst themselves and I would not be surprised if they request access into the Tower to tend to their leader.”

The Warrior of Darkness couldn’t help but smile sadly. They truly did love him. How could they not? The Crystal Exarch gave them the home that they needed when the Sin Eaters came to be. The Tower was their refuge, the actual light that they needed. It was the beacon of hope that G’raha Tia had hoped the Tower could become. And become it did.

“I will tell her immediately. Please, rest for now. You have done admirably, and I… I am grateful to all of the Twelve that you are all alive. Talk can happen another day. Please, get comfortable and let the healers do their work.” A’viloh’s eyes softened. Here he was saying that talk should happen another day, getting deja vu. Just as he did with his friend, he let out his gratitude. One last bit should be enough, along with some endearment.

“And… Thank you, Alphy. For all that you have done and for all that I know you will do. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Have pleasant dreams..” The Leveilleur twin did his best to stifle his gasp but it could still be heard via the linkpearl. The Warrior’s relationship with the twins was a strong one and he knew that they looked up to him immensely, which is why he would always praise the twins, not only because he truly meant it, but also from them deserving to hear it. They did more for him and the Scions than they let on and would only say half of their accomplishments; when he found that out, he made damn sure to take them under his wing. He treated them with the same respect that he gave the other “adults” but also coddled them every now and then. He hoped that his words hit the male twin’s heart just as much as if his sister had told them to him, his smile going soft.

“...A… A good night to you as well, my friend. Do not stay up too late and please… may you also rest. Twelve knows that you need it.” Came Alphinaud’s reply, voice cracking halfway before the connection was broken.

Quick footsteps were heard towards the direction of the Ocular, Lyna pushing the door open with her shoulder. A heavy looking box along with a large bag was obscuring her vision, but she set everything down as if it was only parchment paper. She was breathing heavily through her nose, that being the only indication of the box’s true weight and placed the bag in front of A’viloh. Using a heavy knife, she quickly opened the box and pointed to each item, fumbling with the ones that could not be seen immediately.

“We are in luck, Warrior. The chirurgeons had in hand everything that you listed. In that bag are the ingredients that you requested and here are the tools used for minor surgery. In that box are sterile bandages and rags, while that box contains antiseptics. The smaller bags contain the empty bottles and the like. The more… flammable contents are at the bottom, protected by minor magick. Is there anything else that you require?”

Caramel ears perked up at all of the different goodies that he was brought, his scholar self already formulating the different ways that he could use all of the materials. The Bunsen burner must be at the bottom… Oh, there was the pestle and mortar. It wasn’t until his tail accidentally bumped into the person sleeping next to him that he realized how much he was gawking at everything. Lyna did not interrupt his thoughts, gaze expectant from awaiting more orders. Shaking his head quickly, the Warrior rose and set to sheepishly taking out the contents of the box.

“This should be more than enough for the moment. Thank you, Lyna. I will keep you posted on all of the developments with him. So far, he has been sleeping as well as one could with the wounds that he has. I checked some of them, and the external ones seem to be minor. What he truly needs is rest.” Lyna once again kept her eyes on her sleeping guardian when A’viloh gave his report. Her eyes were clear, but still largely unreadable. After a breath, she nodded.

“I will come back a few bells after the sun rises. You know what line I am on should you need me, correct?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Before I forget.” Lyna stepped forward, bringing her right hand out and into A’viloh’s view. He blinked a few times when he saw the fist and lifted his head from the box. Slowly, he brought up his palm. A small weight landed on it and when he brought the item into view, he saw that it was a small crystal key. It was the same color as the Ocular’s walls and he made the connection instantly: it was the same key that G’raha had bestowed to Lyna before he left. Small as it was, it was still warm and held more than it showed.

Trust. She was fully trusting him with the contents of the Tower.

“Are you… are you sure in giving this to me…?” A’viloh asked quietly. He knew that he was stepping way over his boundaries. First he was keeping the Exarch away from his people. Next, he was being given the key to answering many of his questions. How much more would he be given…?

“Full sure, Warrior. This key… I believe that he wanted you to have it. I just happen to be the first to reach him,” came Lyna’s stern reply. 

“Remember, I will come late in the morning. Do not hesitate to call me should you need anything else.” And with that, she turned on her heel, quietly closing the door behind her.

Now alone in the room, A’viloh waited until he could no longer hear the Captain’s footsteps. Turning his head to look at the sleeping leader, he lifted his hand from his ankle and inspected his wounds once more. Several cuts were on his legs and arms, still dirty with blood and salt despite the long dip they had in the sea.

‘You can be yourself now.’ A’viloh paused, hand hovering over his pocket. Icy relief flooded into his veins, shuddering from the voice. They were getting stronger, something that he welcomed with open arms. However, their words made them slightly weary. Yes, they were alone, but--

‘She will not come back until morning. Be at ease.’

He trusted him. If Esteem told him it was alright, then it was. His tired shoulders relaxed, swiveling ears slowing down. Yes, yes, it will be alright.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, shall we…” Standing a bit aways, he dipped his hand into his inner coat pocket and pulled out the soul stone belonging to that of the former Scholars, tucking his dark knight soul stone away. He thanked Fray for giving him strength in transporting the Exarch, as well as for the reassurance. With his magic now heightened, he laid his hands just ilms away from the sleeping Miqo’te, and let his aether do a more thorough inspection. Hands slowly moved to the Exarch’s backside and they stiffened when he felt the corrupted aether. It was undeniable that the bullet belonged to that of the Ascian, the foreign object feeling wrong. He brought his hands back down, sleeves lightly brushing against the Exarch’s red tattered tunic.

‘This bed is not enough. Surely… surely there must be other rooms in the Tower…’

He shoved his hand back into his coat pocket, picking out his summoner soul stone. He would not leave his friend alone, and he knew just the partner that would keep his friend company.

“Come on out, Lizette.” Writing out the necessary spell, his partner in crime appeared from a rainbow of colors. The red carbuncle shook her coat once, getting accustomed to the room around her before finally sitting obediently on her owner’s feet. A’viloh smiled brightly at the first friend that joined him on his long journey all of those years ago. Despite him using Esteem more often these days, it seemed that his other friend did not mind and was still willing to follow him to the ends of the earth. Bending down, he lovingly scratched her ears and then under her chin. She chirruped in glee, tail curling up around her feet.

“Lizette, I need to find a more suitable room for him. Stay at his side and keep him warm, will you? If anything happens, you come straight to me.” He scratched behind her ears again, her chirruping once more in understanding. “Come around his feet, he has a nasty wound on his back.” He picked up his furry friend and placed her close to them as she did as she was told. The Warrior nodded at her and swiftly left the room, making sure to keep the door wide open for Lizette to get out should anything happen. He hoped that nothing would.

Running across the Ocular, he inserted the key into the other door as gently as he could, hearing a faint click. As he pressed against the wooden door, he was quickly met with an immovable wall. He shoved a few more times, finding nothing to pull. Bracing himself against the door, he attempted to transfer some of his aether into the golden opening--nothing. Was he only allowed into that tiny room…?

“You… you said that you wouldn’t deny my request… So… so why…? Why won’t you let me in…?” The Tower was connected to him. He said back on the shores of Kholusia that he would let A’viloh treat him. Why was he being denied? Were those words just for that moment…? A’viloh could no longer see the door in front of him, vision clouded by tears. He wanted to help his friend and give him just as much as what he was given here in the First. He deserved that and more. He needed that and more. Trembling hands fisted against the door and A’viloh put some of his weight on the contraption, forehead thumping lightly on the crystal.

“G’raha Tia… I beseech you… Let me in… That room… It’s too small. Let me find something more suitable for your recovery. I swear to only touch that what is needed and nothing more. Please. Please, please, please… Just let me in--” By some grace of the Twelve did the doors finally open. Or maybe it was because of much A’viloh pleaded. Whatever the case, A’viloh caught himself before he cut open his chin and ran straight inside, only coming back to pull out the key if he needed it.

A room similar to the Ocular laid on the other side, but much larger and with more doors. With pinned back ears, A’viloh looked around, seeing how much larger everything was. The crystal walls were dimmer but did naught to make the room feel smaller. Natural light, or so he thought it could be deemed that, filtered in from a small opening on the ceiling. On his right, a grand pillar tried to hide the humongous golden elevator that led who knows where. On his left, four identical doors called to him. And in front of him was an incredible staircase, the top obscured by shadows. He decided to go clockwise with his investigation, the first door leading into what could only be described as some type of lounging area. The area was mostly barren with the exception of a couch, a few potted plants, and a table with two chairs. The second door led to a bathroom. His eyes flew open at the ginormous pool that took up a third of the room. Closest to the door was a wash basin, toilet, and shower head that any normal person could use. There was barely any personality in that room as well.

The third door took him to what he needed. A room befitting a historian laid inside, a still too large bed some ways in front of him that seemed largely untouched, but the room was filled to the brim with life. Books were stacked as far as a Miqo’te could still reach the top, all various sizes and colors. On the right of the large desk closest to the door were more books, some opened while others carefully stacked. All types of parchment were on the left, some having fallen and laying unceremoniously on the floor. Even the small chair was stacked with books. A’viloh only took note of what was closest to him and sprinted to the last room. He had left his two friends alone for too much time, and counted his blessings at Lizette not scampering in. He only had to peek in to see that it was the kitchen area and promptly closed it, full on running back to the red-haired Miqo’te.

He sighed deeply in relief that finding Lizette right where he left her. Judging from her relaxed position, G’raha’s condition did not change for the worse, but it was not for the better either. With a flick of his wrist, Lizette’s form changed to that of the Titan-egi, the two of them working together to place the Exarch on A’viloh’s back. They took their time with the process, quick pants being their only indication of the Exarch’s pain. He still didn’t wake, no matter how much they jostled him. A’viloh didn’t want to imagine the leader’s pained cries or tears either; he had seen enough of pain for one day. Ordering Titan to stack the bag of ingredients on the large box, it took even longer for A’viloh and Titan to get back to the bedroom A’viloh found from how difficult it was to control Titan’s movements and his own. They had to be gentle with everything they carried, the summoner needing to look down at his feet and state out loud which foot to place over the other. By the time they arrived, the Warrior of Darkness was exhausted mentally.

Placing the Exarch on his side, the Warrior began the painstaking task in removing the ornaments on the tunic along with the clothing itself. He refused to leave his friend with any remnants of the battle that they just won; a Miqo’te’s nose was more potent than a normal nose and he couldn’t count the number of times he wished that someone would remove his battered armor from him when being healed. He didn’t need that reminder of the battles that he could have lost or how much he went through to win them. He always held his tongue, knowing that he should be grateful in receiving any healing at all, but that didn’t mean that anyone else should have to suffer through his same fate.

He found a pair of clean cotton trousers in his bag and slipped them on the Exarch. Changing once more to his scholar form, he summoned Eos for the extra light and helping hand that he knew that he needed. But even then, that wasn’t enough. Looking around the room, he found lamps but no light source to them.

‘He must be able to control the light in here, and only him.’ Rubbing a finger under his chin in thought, he pondered at what else he could use as a light source.

‘Parchment paper is out of the question, I’ll just create an uncontrollable fire… The Bunsen burner would be too dangerous…’

Eos saw how deep in thought her master was in and bobbed around the room here and there to get accustomed to the space, just like how Lizette did. A’viloh’s tired eyes followed his fairy, more furniture coming into view but he did not keep tabs on all that was illuminated.

‘Illuminated…’

Snapping his fingers, Eos quickly came back to him from thinking that he needed her. Muttering an apology, A’viloh placed a hand on his chest as he began to conjure up the image of a warm friend. One that would always create a fiery glow on his tomes when he needed it, and its counterpart cast a gentle hue to help him sleep at night when the day’s events were too distracting in his mind. Within seconds, his Wind-up-Sun appeared, nearly blinding him until he moved it farther up. If he could not turn on a light, then he would just have to create it.

In a matter of minutes, he washed his hands as thoroughly as he could, changed into the cleanest clothes that he could find, and set about extracting the bullet from G’raha’s back. It was at this time that he really inspected his friend’s back, more so how far the crystallization spread to his body. As he thought, his right side was mostly covered, such as his hand, arm, shoulder, and part of his neck. The crystal took over the entire top portion of his back, that being what saved him, and then decided to slow down it’s path on his left side. His left shoulder was starting to get enveloped, judging from how thin the crystal appeared, and stopped on the left side of his neck. Nape and Adam’s apple remain largely untouched, surprising A’viloh with the relief he felt from that. Going back down, the crystal took over his right hip entirely but no more than that. His entire front, at least what he could see in the darkness, remained that of flesh and blood.

He made a point to only pay attention to what was needed. His friend’s body was not a specimen. He was a man that still had a heart beat, still had a conscience, and was his own person. If G’raha wished to show him what he had become, he would accept the decision with open arms. If he did not, A’viloh would accept that too. All that he was, all that he became… it was for him. It was for the Warrior of Darkness that he tried so desperately to bring to the First. It was for that hero that was written in those books and talked about while the Eighth Umbral Calamity was happening around them. It was all for that person. And he would be that person for G’raha. It is the least that he deserved after all of the sacrifices that he made.

Shaking his head, A’viloh knew that precious time was ticking as he let those frivolous thoughts overtake his mind. He knew that it was also from the nerves overtaking him. The large wound on G’raha’s back was horrendous,, cracked crystal surrounding the wound as different hues of red seemed to pulsate underneath. It was G’raha’s aether trying to mend itself and A’viloh imagined that it was the will of the Tower making it so too. Taking a deep breath, he began to make the anesthetic potion to hopefully numb whatever flesh was under the crystal, formulating a plan in his mind on how to extract that bullet.

#Final Fantasy XIV #ffxiv #my writing #vividreminisce writes #series #I Want #Crystal Exarch #G'raha Tia #Warrior of Darkness #Warrior of Light #WoL #WoD #Shadowbringers #A'viloh Entialpoh #A'viloh #OC #Story

[unsuccesscr]

Baaaaah good afternoon everyone and welcome to my Bias List aka “HD finally has an excuse to gush so every one better strap in this is going to be a loooooooooong post”

First a note to all the personals following me: Thank you so much for your support and love for Quirkless Izuku! Personals get a bad rap in the RP community but honestly? Y’all have been super respectful and I haven’t had any problems with my threads being reblogged or anything like that. So, thank you again!

Next, a note for duplicates: I’m not going to tag any in this post because I don’t want to run the risk of making anyone uncomfortable or intimidating anyone. That said; I love and appreciate every single interpretation of Izuku. You are all fantastic, seriously, and I can’t even describe how awesome it feels whenever one of you follows me or likes one of my posts or reblogs a promo. It’s like “yay! this amazing blog likes me!” even if our headcanons don’t mesh there’s literally no such thing as an invalid Izuku portrayal. So if you’re reading this? Thank you for existing!

Last, a note for anyone not mentioned by name: Unfortunately tumblr does put a limit on how many people can be tagged in one post and so there’s a limit as to how many people I can mention here. But even if you’re not tagged know that I love you and i’m so grateful for you and I honestly this RPC is one of the best i’ve ever been in and that’s because of Everyone so! Thank You!

Alright, moving on, here are my biases;

1. The Deku Squad; People who I regularly interact with both in character and out, or who are otherwise significant to me and/or my portrayal of Izuku

@amplifyingtrace This should come as a surprise to no one who has followed me for any length of time but I ADORE Kit. It takes so so so much work to make an original character, and Leia is amazing. I am 100% not joking when I say sometimes I get disappointed reading the manga and not seeing her there. I cannot imagine Izuku without Leia, and some of the most defining part of my portrayal have come from my threads with Kit. Not to mention Kit is just? An incredibly kind and wonderful person. I look forward to our out of character interactions just as much as our threads.

@hgkre Cinder! What words are there to describe Cinder and their Tooru? None are even close to being good enough. Tooru is such an underappreciated character even in canon and Cinder has turned her into one of my absolute favorites. Every headcanon from Tooru’s blindness to her strength to her tendency to push herself and not let anyone know her pain for their sake has endeared her to me (and Izuku) in ways I cannot even fathom. Not to mention Cinder themselves is a good person! Amazing and kind and uses my Icon psd even though they totally don’t have to and aaaaaaaaaaah.

@steelhardpecs Soda is a true rock, the real MVP, a ride or die. He has put up with absolutely ENDLESS bullshit from me constantly in his IMs ranting about how Izuku’s a slytherin or whatever shit i’m on that day. And much more importantly? His Tetsu is the BOMB. Seriously so much thought has been put into every headcanon from how his quirk works to his parents to why he wants to be a hero and it shows. It’s just! a really awesome portrayal of an underrated character! And uh I ship tetsubaku with my whole heart now thank you.

@hxllo-sunshine Mel is just an...incredible ray of sunshine as is Ariel. They have created not only a character but an entire world for that character. Their version of America within the BNHA/MHA universe is such a wonderful combination of commentary on modern day US society and the problems with the hero society in canon. Honestly i’m glad Horikoshi hasn’t really touched on America because anything he comes up with will be disappointing in comparison. And Ariel’s villain verse makes me cry, she is an absolute angel who deserves better!

@superrncva KC has such a wonderfully unique look into Katsuki’s worldview that had me hooked immediately. Every single one of our threads both silly and serious has me excited to see what is going to happen next. Not to mention the legendary bullshit that was the night of then perish. KC herself is an extremely approachable person and even though her blog is top tier quality I never felt intimidated because of it.

@sappines One of my newer mutuals but honestly? Kona has already earned herself a spot as one of my Biggest Biases. I LOVE Kazue. Her quirk ‘giving tree’ is so incredibly versatile and well written it absolutely boggles my mind how creative it is. And the character herself is just...the biggest sweetheart. We’ve only had a couple in character interactions so far but I already love her and Izuku’s sweet and nerdy dynamic. My boy definitely needs people like Kazue in his life.

@hcwks Listen; Autistic muses are so very important to me and Emma does such a good job integrating ASD into Hawk’s character. I live every day knowing that birb dad is an advocate for Autism awareness and I love how warm and welcoming he is to disabled heroes-in training (Hawks internship squad for life!) Of course, there’s more to their portrayal than that! Hawks isn’t a character we have much info on in canon but Emma’s headcanons are perfect and mesh very well with what we do know.

@needlxd Continuing on my rant about Autistic muses there’s Dee Dee with the wonderful Kitiara! Honestly if you’re not following her already you’re making a big mistake. An amazingly well balanced Villain with believable motivations and absolutely Adorable interactions with the rare person Kitiara cares about. And, like I mentioned right off the bat, an accurate portrayal of a nonverbal Autistic character. Not to mention Dee Dee herself is so sweet and supportive and I would walk on hot coals for her, probably.

2. Class 1-A; People who are awesome and who i’ve interacted with a little bit either in character or out of character. I really love what we’ve done so far and I look forward to interacting with them more. People you should definitely definitely follow!

@floatiisms // @latibule-of-ice // @xelease // @iidatxnya // @umbled // @chimeriac // @umbled // @watersplxsh // @bxllseyed // @oneshockyboi // @quamxmulti // @quirkthief // @cconstruct // @ask-electrical-tape //@pantodinamos // @sparks-for-hire // @freezeoburn // @joviastial // @zerogrcvity // @chillquirk // @sn0wb1rd // @pantodinamos // @starsandpigs // @mxgunet // @engxne // @hematcphagia // @tskymi // @tokunagahiro // @coolnotyourproblem // @tailspired // @fropqvirk // @magicsp3lls

3. Pro Heroes; People I have yet to interact with/interact with much and I mostly admire from a distance because i’m awkward! But they’re still awesome and I want them to know it!!

@the-benevolent-uravity // @quirkgifter // @waspxmasako // @rxd-riot // @torncape // @boydazzle // @bornicarus // @eletriq // @ukubi // @oorumaiito // @pnkacd // @dracoquirk // @faceplain // @gran-pa-torino // @hxwk-eyes // @jxjivisha // @ksri // @kottahono // @zerogravite // @voidte // @natsutodoroki // @msclr // @aemulo // @stxicherxics // @heroicriot // @kxrieiti // @glamie // @raiinyhero // @sxhw4rz // @roundfacepinkcheeks // @paralysis-stare // @transfrm // @uravitiss // @oceanstamed // @digesttoimpress // @symbolofpxace // @danceqveen // @mrserophane // @aftrshock // @negativeat // @oculushero // @creatiquirk

One last thank you for everyone! I’m so glad y’all like this AU, and that you’ve stuck with me through all the changes i’ve made since starting this blog. I’m so so grateful! I wish I could make this a million pages longer and gush about each and every one of you but this already Too Long (i’m sorry) but thank you!!!

#;;out of character #;;long post

[klimpaloon-loves-superwholock]

I know this is a bit late, and I don’t usually make original posts, but I want to gather my thoughts on VLD s7, even though I literally never participate in fandom discourse lol. So I guess we’ll see how this goes. 

There were great parts of this season. Let’s start with that. 

First of all, Hunk was incredible and I’m so glad he finally got an arc where he could shine, even if I feel like it was long overdue. Seriously, I feel like Hunk was the best part of this season and I cannot state enough how much effect he had on my overall impression of the season. He basically carried the season singlehandedly and I don’t understand why searching through the tag rn I can hardly find any appreciation for him this season. (yeah jk I know why ha)

Everything they did with the Paladins’ families (from Hunk’s arc about rescuing his parents to Lance reuniting with his family and his relationship with Veronica to freaking Colleen!!!! just straight up stealing the show for two episodes!!! What an icon I love her so much!) was absolutely perfect. (I will say I’ve seen speculation that Hunk’s sister and her kids died since they weren’t there in his hospital room, which I desperately hope is not the case since that really should have been mentioned.) 

I also loved seeing Shiro take charge and become Captain of the Atlas without even seeming to realize that he was the man for the job. 

Sendak was a formidable and interesting villain who raised the stakes, which made it more satisfying when they defeated him. 

I enjoyed getting to know Romelle more and see her in action.

Coran and the mice’s team up to break out the rest of the gang was very good and funny.

KOSMO!!!!!!! A GOOD PUPPY!!!!!! HE HAS A NAME!! I LOVE HIM SO!!!

I enjoyed seeing Lotor’s ex-generals again (because I love them), although I do have some issues which I’ll get to later.

The new characters they introduced, mainly Rizavi, Leifsdottir, Kinkade, Veronica, and Griffin were all great and I loved them! They did a great job of making me care about these new people. (And Kinkade is drawn so pretty what the heck y’all sleepin on this beautiful dude)

Seriously Colleen was so great I cannot stress this enough. I’ve been feeling for this poor woman who thought that she’d lost her whole family since season 1 so I’m so glad to finally see her in action, fighting for her family and her planet.

They did a good job of setting up Admiral Sanda’s inevitable betrayal, even if it was a really stupid thing for her to do.

Ep 5 was great; I was super excited to see what the Druids looked like under their masks, Macidus and Keith’s teleporting fight was awesome, and it’s always great to see Allura’s magic develop more, even when I wish it wasn’t so unclear how/what she’s doing.

Lots of the fights were so cool, from the Voltron team taking down the Galra drones in the cave system in Ep 2 to all the MFE fights to Shiro’s rematch against Sendak to even Voltron’s fight against the Robeast. These fights, I’ve noticed, are always especially cool when they unlock a new ability like Hunk’s turrets and Voltron’s double swords. Also I forgot how strong Alteans are until Romelle just straight up ripped apart a drone.

As much as I overall didn’t like The Feud as an episode, it did have some great moments with Pidge taking down Bob, Allura and Hunk being cute in the background, and the team being overall really supportive and loving of each other. 

Shay came to visit Hunk!!!!!!!

Unfortunately, as you may have guessed, I also have a lot of problems with this season. Ones that, for me, are too serious to ignore. But let’s start with my more minor grievances, then work our way up to the big ones, shall we?

I don’t like Shiro’s new arm. It reminds me too much of Sendak’s and is too bulky/strange looking for for my taste. And for some reason my eyes have a hard time finding it? Like they’re drawn to the light emanating from his shoulder and not the forearm/hand. Idk, but I’m not a fan.

I wish Griffin had apologized to Keith for being such a jerk about his parents. I kept waiting for it since they had all these long glances with each other. I came to like him despite the bad initial impression only because he proved to be a good leader who valued every member of his team and knew when to step aside because someone else was better at a job. But I still kinda needed resolution for his rudeness, especially since he’s obviously grown since then and should want to make amends. 

Admiral Sanda’s just so freaking stupid????? Like, how did she get that high in ranking when she consistently makes such bad decisions???? Clearly the dictator who’s controlling earth who comes from a war-mongering culture that enslaves and destroys planets isn’t just gonna let y’all go once he gets Voltron. He’s either gonna continue using you as slaves because nothing’s stopping him or destroy you because you’re no longer useful. Listen to people who know the Galra better than you!!

I saw somewhere that Matt has a girlfriend now???? When did this happen????

They somehow got the ENTIRE BALMERA to Earth?!!!????!!?!?!?!? How did they build a teleduv big enough to do that!?!

Also, where did they get a teleduv? Did the Atlas have one? Or was that something that they built during the epilogue montage??

How did Keith summon his bayard telepathically?? Was that a Galra thing or a new Paladin ability?

How did Shiro manage to survive falling from space to earth on the outside of a ship while fighting Sendak?? I mean I’m really glad he lived, but??? How??

I don’t think we needed so much time dedicated to Sam Holt updating the Garrison and then the rest of earth on what happened in space. I kinda appreciated it since it’s been a long time since I watched the early seasons, but at the same time he didn’t tell them anything that was new information to us as viewers. The only things we gained from those scenes were how others reacted to this info. (And we still didn’t get to see the reaction of the person I was most interested in, Adam, but I’ll get to that later.)

This is a problem I’ve been having with the show since like season 3 or so, but how much time has passed? They actually explicitly said it at a couple of points this season, what with 3 years having gone by for most people but only a few weeks for the Voltron team, but why did that time difference happen? Also, how much time passed between the team leaving Earth and them fighting Lotor in last season’s finale? Because I could believe any time frame between 6 months to a few years for that, which makes a big difference in how old the paladins are. According to the show, Sam landed on earth 4 years before the team gets back to the Milky Way, so I guess Sam left the team a year before they faught Lotor??

I didn’t get the thing with Allura’s crown gem? Since when is that a power source? And I was really struck by the imagery of her literally throwing her crown away to help her friend, but I feel like it would’ve been more powerful if we had been given some information about what exactly that gem is and what it means for her. Just make this more clear for me. Also, Shiro has already lashed out and hurt people against his will, so I really didn’t need that angsty moment for him.

The B-plot in Ep 1 was tonally dissonant from the A-plot of Shiro’s flashbacks, and it ended up being totally useless anyway. As much as I enjoyed Romelle and Hunk’s banter in those parts, they would’ve been better placed somewhere else. They should’ve just dedicated the whole episode to Shiro’s flashbacks and given us more information about him.

If they were going to mention that Shiro had a progressive disease in his flashbacks, then they need to explicitly mention in the show that he doesn’t have it anymore. As it is, people who don’t know about the SDCC announcements are just gonna assume he still has it. If it doesn’t happen in the show, it’s not canon. Also, if he’s had this disease the whole time, then why is s7 the first time it’s mentioned? The way he held his arm in the flashback reminded me of the way he held it when his Galra arm activated for the first time. Did the arm help fight the progression of the disease like that lil wristband did? If so, that should’ve been explained and made clear a long time ago. It just bothers me that this is the first time we’re hearing about this major part of Shiro’s life that he’s been fighting with, and that in show we’re given absolutely no resolution for it.

I guess the gem powering Shiro’s arm and the Castleship diamond powering the Atlas connected somehow?? Which is how Shiro turned it into a giant robot?     ??????????????? I’m genuinely very confused on what was going on there. It needed to be made more clear. I was on board for whatever they were doing at first just because Shiro looked so pretty in that lighting, but they took it in the weirdest direction possible. Why would anyone care about Voltron anymore when you’ve got a bigger, stronger robot now? Voltron’s no longer the most powerful weapon in the universe - the Atlas is. And it only became such by coincidence. Which is just. Irritating.

The Feud episode. Oh boy. First of all, I got some serious emotional whiplash from the change to this episode. It just didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the season at all. Second, they just really did not have to spend that much time making fun of Lance for being stupid. Especially when he’s not. Also, the first two of the people he had to identify had masks on, and Lance had only met them briefly. ALSO you’re telling me that Lance, the most social and outgoing of the Voltron team, is the one who’s bad with names/faces????? ALSO spending less time teasing Lance would’ve opened up more time for giving Hunk and Allura their own activities. ALSO everyone else on the team gets a little speech about how they’re valuable, but Lance just gets “I don’t want to be stuck with him forever”?????? That’s so freaking messed up. Third, the whole premise of the episode was strange to me. Like why would an all powerful being who tests heroes do it in this way? It seems to me that that premise fits Ep 6, where they were stranded in space, much better. They were genuinely tested then, and the forces that attacked them and propelled them through lightyears of space were never explained, so saying that Bob did it and propelled them towards their goal as a reward for passing the test could’ve been a satisfying answer to those questions. And fourth, can I also ask why Morvok was the fourth player?? Like he’s a nonentity in terms of villains. And they still didn’t have the same number of players as team Voltron. Haggar’s still alive, so they could’ve put Sendak on there too. And for the fifth player they could’ve put on a fan favorite villain character. One who showed up in more episodes than Morvok did. One who died a while back and who the fans have wanted to see again ever since. Like, I don’t know, NARTI!! Ugh.

The Robeast. I just. This season could’ve ended on a pretty high note if they had just cut that out and just went straight to the lil epilogue after defeating Sendak. As cool as that fight was at parts, it caused a pretty low finale, which is pretty disappointing after last season’s incredible finale. I get that they needed to foreshadow Haggar’s return to this fight or whatever they’re doing for next season and that she’s been working on the lost Alteans, apparently, but it was just a strange note to end on. Especially with the weird addition of Atlas to the Giant Robot Squad. And Allura’s line “Seriously? We just defeated Sendak and now we gotta deal with this?!?!” (I’m paraphrasing) was a MOOD.

Okay, so this post has gotten kinda out of control, so I’m gonna have to save the biggest issue I had (betcha can guess what it is) for another post. So. Look out for Part 2 of this nonsense. Feel free to reblog with your own ideas/input!

#voltron #vld spoilers #vld s7 #vld discourse #criticism

[trashunlimited]

to conclude, here’s the epilogue. also, i’m putting this all on ao3 and will post the link soon. this isn’t the end of my rick x julie content, there will be more! i need to post something fluffy to make up for all this angst.

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

tagging: @nightshade1994, @glampyra  

Rick had been looking for a powerful fuel source, and remembered the one on Fyralog, perhaps the crystal was still there? It was certainly worth a shot.

Taking Morty along with him as normal, they were flying around on Rick’s ship, looking for the remains of Fyralog. Rick grinned excitedly when they finally come upon Fyralog, and landed on it. The planet look barren, desolate and deserted, the buildings destroyed and there was no life in sight.

“Jeez Rick, what happened here?” Morty asked nervously.

“This Morty, is all that’s left of the Fyralogin Empire, once the dominant force in the galaxy before it collapsed and was replaced by the F-Feds.” Rick explained. “But g-guess who took it down? Me!” He proudly proclaimed, pointing to himself.

“You took down an entire e-empire?” Morty responded in shock.

“Hell yeah dawg! Years ago I stole a chunk of the fuel source we’re here for, they tried to get it back but it collapsed before they could!” Rick laughed.

He knew he shouldn't be surprised, this was Rick after all. But to know he took down an entire empire single handedly? It was both shocking and amazing.

“So...why are we here now Rick?” He wondered.

“To get the another chunk of that fuel source obviously! What else would we come here for?” He hissed. Morty realized that maybe he shouldn’t have asked.

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

As the duo wandered together, Morty found himself really creeped out by the place. The combination of the lack of life when there clearly had been some at one point, the broken and boarded up buildings and the feelings of emptiness made him uneasy. “This place is really cr-cr-creeping me out Rick..” He mumbled.

“Don't be a baby Morty, y-you've been to worse places, this'll be cake.” Rick brushed him off. Morty sighed and continued walking with him.

He started to realize they were headed towards the large building in the center, and so figured that the fuel source must be in there.

When they arrived in the building, it was completely dark, so Rick took out a flashlight and turned it on, using it to help him look around and traverse the building. Morty clung onto his lab coat as they walked, even more frightened than before.

As they walked around, they saw a green glow and headed towards it, where they the crystal-like fuel source, Even now, it still had broken and mangled wires connecting to it.

“Jackpot!” Rick grinned, pumping a fist in the air.

But as soon as he started heading towards it, a figure with two pairs of golden glowing eyes appeared in the darkness. Startled, Rick used the flashlight to get a better look at the figure, and wasn’t surprised when he saw it was Pyri, the former empress of the Fyralogin Empire. There was a look of pure malice and insanity on her face, which made sense, she had been here, alone in the darkness for decades.

“You..” She snarled, glaring at Rick. “You took everything from me! My planet, my people, my empire, my pride..”

Rick ignored her and she watched as he took out another of the crystal. Her eyes wandered around and landed on Morty, and she became confused, unsure who he was. Pyri had expected to see Julie, but she wasn’t there. She’d never seen what Julie actually looked like, but assumed she would’ve seen a woman around Rick’s age, not whoever this was.

“Where is Julie?” Pyri asked, making Rick stop dead in his tracks. When she didn’t get a response, she asked again. “I asked you, where is Julie? What happened to her?”

Rick still wasn’t responding, which gave her a hint on what had happened. “Oh I see, so she’s dead huh? Did you kill her or something?”

At this, Morty noticed he was shaking and had a horrified expression on his face. He wasn’t sure who Julie was exactly, but knew whoever she was, she must’ve been important to Rick.

“So you did kill her after all huh? Should’ve known...she loved you and killed her!”

Morty didn’t know what to do when he saw Rick clench his fists as he started to tear up.. Something was wrong…

Pyri kept egging Rick on and taunting him. “Poor sweet Julie, you dragged her into your bullshit and tricked her into loving you. She died because of you, it’s all your fault!”

Rick snapped at this, and pulled out a weapon with him. “No!” He screamed as he shot her. “I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it! I didn’t…” When Pyri collapsed dead on the ground, Rick sat down on his knees and sobbed.

Morty was concerned and worried for him, what was he supposed to do now? He didn’t want to stay here any longer and so tugged on Rick’s shoulder to get his attention. “W-We should go Rick…”

Rick looked over at him and wiped his tears away. “Yeah...whatever..”

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

On their back, Rick and Morty were both silent, neither saying a word to each other. What could they even say? Morty had seen Rick in such a vulnerable moment, he had let his emotions get the best of him, he wanted to avoid doing something like that again.

Morty nervously rubbed one of his arms and glanced over at Rick. “Rick...whose Julie?”

Rick clenched his fists on the steering wheel of the ship, tightening his grip on it. “Shut up, just shut up...:” He growled before looking away.

Morty knew he wasn’t going to get an answer out of Rick, so he thought on his own who Julie could be. She was someone clearly very important to him, who was also dead. With this, Morty wondered if Julie was his grandma. He’d never met, seen or even heard of his grandma before, no one seemed to want to talk about her, there was no pictures of her in the house, but why? Considering Rick’s reaction to her being mentioned and all, maybe it was just too hard to talk about her. Though Morty was curious about Julie, he wasn’t sure if he would ever get to learn about her, he hoped he could though someday.

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

When they returned to Earth, Rick immediately went up into his room, refusing to even look at anyone. Summer had seen this and walked over to Morty, just as confused as he was. “Uh...what’s wrong with Grandpa Rick?” She asked.

“I...I don’t know..” Morty admitted. “When we went to go get something on another planet, someone there mentioned a person named Julie, she told Rick that he caused Julie’s death and he freaked out and killed her. He wouldn’t say a-anything about it on our way b-back.”

Summer was surprised by this. “What? Really? Who do you think Julie could be?”

“I was thinking that she’s our gr-grandma. I mean...with Rick’s reaction and all, I think she was important to him, but she died…” He answered.

“Makes sense, it would explain a lot wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah...I just h-hope either R-Rick or Mom will want to tell us s-something about her eventually..”

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

Rick sat alone on his bed, tears flowing down his face. When he had brought Morty to Fyralog with him, he hadn’t thought Pyri would even be there, he presumed she’d died, but he’d been wrong unfortunately, at least until he’d killed her himself. But he should’ve known better...he’d came there for his own personal gain, and Pyri had ended up blaming him for Julie’s death.

The truth was that Rick did actually blame himself for Julie’s death. He felt if he hadn’t left her all those years ago, that she would still be alive, that they would still be together and be happy. He could wake up in the morning and be greeted by her lovely face, he could still taste her kisses and feel her warmth, and Julie would continue to be there for him, loving and supporting him as always.

Even if she had developed the condition that killed her anyways, Rick knew he could cure her, but he couldn’t cure her now that she was dead. Despite his genius, Rick couldn’t reverse death. He didn’t see cloning as an option either, because while he could do that, it wouldn’t be the same, the clone wouldn’t be the Julie he fell in love with, it would be someone completely different.

Before Julie had entered his life, it had been lonely, miserable, empty and depressing. But once she had become apart of it, his life instantly became better. She’d brought out the best in him, made him feel genuinely happy, probably for even the first time in his life, and was the first to show him love and kindness.

Now she was gone, and the empty feelings had returned to him, the only way they could be filled, the only way his heart could heal is if she came back into his life. But because she was dead, that was impossible. Rick believed he was doomed to remain a depressed, suicidal alcoholic for the rest of his miserable life.

He took out the crystal rose he’d gotten for Julie, before they’d even started dating. She’d loved it so much, and he could still remember the day he took her to that gemstone planet visibility. Rick remembered they’d even had their wedding there. He clutched onto rose and angrily threw it on the floor, but it didn’t break, there wasn’t even a crack, it stayed still and intact.

Rick pulled out his flask and opened it, downing some alcohol as more tears stained his face.

#my writing #rick and julie

[meditatemoremedicateless]

Maxine Caulfield: Old Friends (1/2)

Fandom: Life is Strange Ship: Max Caulfield / Max Caulfield Tags: selfcest, involuntary drug use, inspired by Undertale, post-Life in Snippets Words: 5,464

Summary: In a new timeline without Sean Prescott, Max Caulfield remains in Seattle, doing her best to become acquainted with friends she's never met and handling Victoria's insufferable family. On the night following an art show at the Chase Space, Mark Jefferson takes two bullets to the chest in his hotel room. On the elevator ride down from his room, Max meets the girl from the mirror, another Max from an abandoned timeline. They chat like old friends and share a smoke.

Unfortunately, the Other Max isn't here for a friendly chat.

Dedicated to the “Super Maxine” fan art by @zai-fanart

Playlist: Transistor Original Soundtrack, “Vanishing Point” Transistor Original Soundtrack, “We All Become” Transistor Original Soundtrack, “Old Friends” Transistor Original Soundtrack, “Paper Boats”

Jefferson was still unconscious and Max was getting impatient. She'd never tried speeding time up before, but she was seriously starting to consider it. Whatever Jefferson had tried to dose her with took forever to wear off - which was probably the point, she supposed. Still, she'd spent the better part of the night sitting on his hotel bed watching cartoons and anime, wishing she'd brought snacks. It was only her third murder and she still hadn't quite gotten used to the prep work.

Once he started to make small movements, trying to open his eyes or shifting in his restraints, Max gagged him with his tie.

Eventually, he was conscious enough to struggle and groan, making it hard to concentrate on the TV. Once he managed to maintain this for a few minutes, Max figured it was time they had a talk. She retrieved her gun from the night stand, cocked it, and leveled it at Jefferson's face.

His eyes focused as well as they could on the barrel so close, a little cross-eyed. He stopped his groaning, instead just breathing heavily into his gag, small amounts of drool accumulating on his chin. There was something about this image that left him so distant from the monster Max remembered that, for a few seconds, she convinced herself this wasn't even the same man.

Then again, he had dosed her drink. Maybe it didn't matter. The world could use one less rapist.

"If you try to scream, call for help - anything - you'll choke on your own blood. Do you understand?"

For a second there was only the sound of his breathing, but then the message made it through, and he nodded vigorously.

"Good."

Max pulled the tie from around his face and tossed it on the bed. She'd expected him to try something stupid - it's not like the chair was a perfect place to tape him up, after all - but he remained as cool as could be expected, only working his jaw up and down a little to adjust.

Max pulled out the desk chair and sat it across from him, sitting down and relaxing, the gun never deviating from his torso. She hated sitting with her ankles neatly crossed, but she wasn't left with a lot of options thanks to the black cocktail dress Victoria had picked out for her last night.

When she said nothing, he figured it was his turn. "Max," he said after a moment of struggling to remember, "what - are you doing? What did-"

"You dosed my scotch and I returned the favor. The duct tape was in your bag," Max said, contempt written all over her face. "You don't really change, do you?"

Jefferson blinked a few times, slowly, concentration clearly a struggle. "How did you-? Why do you have a gun?"

She tilted her head, as if the question were curious to her. "Because I want to talk to you, Mr. Jefferson. Or should I call you Mark?"

"I-"

"But I don't actually want you to talk back." She liked the way he shut up when she tilted the gun up towards his face, even if it wasn't any more dangerous than what she was already doing. Self preservation was so predictable when you were just a person. "Sorry, should have clarified that."

Jefferson wet his lips and took a deep breath, but said nothing.

"Perfect," Max smiled in response. "You're learning."

She said, "I just thought, before things go any further, you should know why this is happening to you."

After a pause, he replied, "Okay," just above a whisper.

Max nodded, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. "Where to begin . . . where to begin."

"Hm. Okay, I know. I'll tell you a story. Once there was a famous fashion photographer named Mark Jefferson who liked taking pictures in black and white. His style was known all over the art world for capturing the dynamics of power - between state and citizen, between military and civilian, between men and women, between light and dark. But there was another element to his style that, for some reason, nobody talked about. Mark Jefferson loved to make himself a part of his photos. Not including himself in the frame, no, no," Max laughed, bitterness creeping into her voice. She shook her head. "No, of course not, then he'd be just like some millenial tween taking a selfie, and he'd despise that."

"Mark Jefferson liked to watch innocence die. And there was nothing he found so innocent or so beautiful as young girls at the edge of adulthood, blossoming despite the cynicism of the world. He was so proud of that, too, of his eye to find these girls, these special girls . . ." Max sighed, a far-off look in her eye.

Mark took the break in the monologue to start, "Now, Max, I don't know where you're getting any of this absurd fantasy, but I can promise you I'm no . . . pedophile," he grimaced with genuine disgust at the word, "if that's what you think I am. I'm just a photographer. And you're eighteen and-"

Max held a finger up to her lips and gave a 'Shh.' He quickly trailed off, and Max laughed in delight.

"You're right! I forgot that that was so important to you. 'I'm not a pedophile . I'm not a rapist. I'm an artist.'" This was clearly hilarious to her, but his face only grew more anxious.

When she recovered, Max continued, "You're right, I'm so sorry. You like to drug them, watch them wake up slowly so you can see the light, that beautiful innocence, die in their eyes, suck it away like some sort of vampire and then spit them back out. You'd destroy a girl, but you wouldn't like, fuck them." Max pondered that for a second. "Well, except when you do. You're kind of all-around nasty."

There was a long break while Mark looked her over carefully, as if he couldn't believe this was the same giggling, moronic girl he'd brought back to his room the night before. The stuttering admiration and heavy makeup had all been washed away and he couldn't seem to believe his eyes. Was it because she knew? Or was it because he'd never thought her, in particular, capable of this?

His voice lost its gentleness, becoming flat and rough. "You know the website, I take it?"

Max had never had the edge to actually take a look at it until last night, when she was trying to fill the hours until he woke up. It was horrifying, somehow worse than the morning she'd found the bunker underneath the Prescott barn despite the fact that she didn't recognize any of the girls from the photographs. There were just so many. So many beautiful, innocent young girls who'd probably had careers, bright futures, trusting relationships snatched away in the blink of a camera. It's not that she knew the psychological weight of it, really - she hadn't stuck around long enough to ask Kate what it had been like - but she still remembered the poison that filled her body and her heart when she was dosed the first time, and she couldn't imagine the hours underneath his lens that these girls had had to endure.

Max pushed out a small smile to keep her confidence. "I've taken a look, yeah."

His eyes narrowed, then relaxed - his whole face relaxed and his tone softened again. "Then what do you want? Is this all some game for millions in blackmail that I don't have?"

Max's smile was real this time. "Oh, nah." She stood up from the chair, just so she could look down at him. "I just wanted to watch the light die from your eyes."

He registered her meaning as she raised the gun at his chest. "Now, Max-"

He was never able to finish his sentence thanks to two bullets embedding themselves somewhere inside his rib cage. Blood welled up in his mouth as his lungs filled, drowning the already-dead man.

"Hold the elevator, please."

A hand shot out of the elevator to keep it open, and Max slipped inside quickly, hitting Lobby and then darting to the opposite corner. She pulled herself up on the hand railing, doing her best not to look at the other passenger in the elevator.

"It wouldn't kill you to say 'hello.'"

A shiver ran up Max's spine as she heard the voice, and she looked up. At first, the face she saw looked just like any other stranger - a medium-height brunette with shoulder-length hair, a plaid shirt that immediately pinged Max's gaydar tied around their waist. But she had an eye for images, and it only took her a second to recognize them as familiar, if flipped from how she normally saw them.

It was her. Herself. Max. Except not behind the mirror anymore .

"Max?" The word had no volume behind it, but they seemed to get it anyway, and their face split into a grin.

"Surprised to see me?" the other Max asked, but Max had already flung herself across the elevator, and they pulled her into a tight hug. The other Max was taller, and, she realized, older than she remembered. Time had not passed for them equally. Apparently, Max still had some growing to do.

"God, Max. I haven't seen you since the Lighthouse." Max held on a bit longer, then took a step back, looking them over again. Now that she had a chance to look, everything about this Max seemed a little aged up, clearly on the other side of twenty. "That was . . . months ago. But it looks like it's been longer for you."

"Hah, yeah," they said, lifting their hand up and rotating it slowly, as if they could see the age on it. "A little bit. Plus, I go by Maxine now."

Max swiped her eyebrow to show her relief. "Whew. I go exclusively by 'Max' now so that works out. You would not believe how confusing it is trying to explain running into you."

Maxine quirked their eyebrows. "No kidding, sheesh."

The elevator reached the lobby and the doors slid open. Max hadn't realized that Maxine hadn't chosen a floor, they'd just arrived on the floor Max was on. Which was . . . pretty weird.

As they left the elevator, Max asked, "So what are you doing here?"

They both seemed to be making their way towards the lobby doors, which further confused Max, even if it was convenient.

Maxine shrugged, gesturing at the revolving door. "Why don't we take a walk and we can catch up some? Do you smoke?"

Max sighed in relief. "Oh thank god. This dress didn't have anywhere to put them and I've been in it all night. Please tell me you have-"

Maxine held up a white lighter before Max could even finish the question, and smirked. Then they fished in their jeans pockets until they found their cigarettes, offering one to Max first before sticking one in their mouth as they left the hotel.

"Good choice on the dress, by the way," Maxine said as they gave Max a once-over. "You look hot."

Max gave them a playful shove, but it only made them laugh. They paused just outside the hotel to light their cigarettes, then turned left and just started walking.

Max was a little pink and didn't want to think about how weird that was. "Thanks," she finally replied. "Victoria picked it out for me."

Maxine quirked their eyebrows in surprise again, but said nothing for the time.

After the awkwardness was given a little time to fade, Maxine suddenly said, "So, you got Mark. Nice."

Max found a way to choke on her smoke despite the fact that this body had apparently been smoking for years. Maxine shot her a look of amusement but didn't add anything more until she was done.

Then Max half-yelled, "What the fuck?!"

Maxine laughed, then replied, "What? I was on my way to do it myself - I didn't expect to find you needing an escape elevator."

Max considered shock or confusion. But, honestly, somewhere amidst the whole ascending to godhood or whatever she had kind of gotten over the peculiarities of time travel and interdimensional overlap. This stuff happens. You just kind of have to roll with it.

So she just rolled her eyes and groaned. "God. You should have shown up hours ago so I'd have something to do."

"Wow, in front of Mark?" Maxine took a drag from her cigarette, exhaling into the air above them. "That's a bold move."

Now Max was just flustered. Why in the world were they hitting on themself? Why was she into it? And on a scale of one to ten how badly did she need to kink shame her alter ego?

"So," Max said, "What brings you here?"

"Oh, you know. I had some time to kill."

They both snickered.

A little further down the sidewalk, Maxine spotted a Starbucks. "Come on," they said, tapping Max on the small of her back and nodding towards it. "I'll buy you a coffee and we can catch up."

They both had similar taste in coffee, except somehow Maxine had an even greater love of sugar and Max was left in awe of their power. Max had been anticipating creeping into her room in these early hours, unable to sleep from the images of Mark's body. But she wasn't slinking about, and even the thought of Mark's death didn't induce any guilt. Killing Sean had been so much harder, and she wasn't even the person who pulled the trigger that time.

"I like your necklace," Max said, tilting her coffee at Maxine. "Three bullets? What's up with that?"

"Oh, this?" Maxine lifted it up between them. The bullet casings were smooth and bright, pretty even - but the style just seemed so not her .

Maxine laughed and said, "Yeah, Chloe gave this to me after I saved her ass a few times. She thought it was three and it was all symbolic and shit, but it was more like . . ." they paused, looking up at the ceiling to count.

They mouthed the numbers as they counted, which Max had never realized was so adorable until just now. She had always been afraid that mean kids from middle school were right and all her little quirks were just spazzy. But, no, Victoria was right. Max(ine) was cute as a button.

Just as Max was beginning to lose herself to focusing on Maxine's tiniest movements, Maxine finished and said, "Nine, I guess. I mean she only actually died four times, but after a while I found it best to stop telling her. I think it made her a little depressed."

That sobered up the mood real quick. Max's coffee was still a little bit bitter, and she wondered if she should have added more sugar.

Something finally clicked. "So," Max said as she put her coffee back down on the table, "you're not the Max I met before. She gave up her powers - and Chloe. You didn't." The realization that Max had encountered the third duplicate of herself left her uneasy. Every time she met another one, she became increasingly nervous that the scene Sean had shown her was true - that hopping across timelines left a Max behind to clean up her mess. She had turned time back as little as she possibly could just in case, but she still wanted to believe that she had nothing to do with the fact that there were so many other Maxes running around.

Maxine shrugged and gave a sad smile. "Yeah, sorry. You just seemed excited and I wasn't sure how to . . . tell you."

"It's okay."

It didn't really feel okay, to be honest, but that wasn't Maxine's fault. The Max behind the mirror was gone for good. It was just depressing to hold onto hope that they'd see each other again.

Maxine cleared their throat. "So, tell me about your world! How'd you end up knowing Jefferson and staying in Seattle?"

"Hmm." How to tell the story?

Occasionally people would glance over at them, as suspicious as the barista who had taken their order had been. The two of them were clearly identical except for the age gap, even if their clothes and hair were completely different. Maybe if Max was still wearing her makeup they would just pass as strangely similar sisters, but without it they even had the same freckles, and people noticed. Still, no one comes to the conclusion hat time travel is involved. How could they?

"So. Short version? I transfered to Blackwell, joined the Vortex Club, dated Victoria, met Chloe again, Victoria got super powers, Frank got super powers, we found a secret bunker underneath the Prescott's barn, Victoria figured out it was Jefferson's, Kate took a call from Sean, Rachel possessed me for a bit, then Nathan killed his dad."

Maxine was having a total face journey as Max rattled off the year's past events - but that was just September and October, after all.

"Then I realized I could control time, re-did the week, learned everything I could about Sean and Jefferson, sent Frank way back in time, ended up in this timeline. Victoria and I are still dating, but we're here. Nathan isn't kidnapping or murdering everyone and is like, a prodigy I guess. Plus Rachel visits us sometimes and I think she has a thing for Nathan. Or me. Or both. I can't really tell - she's got powers and it makes everything complicated." Max sipped her coffee again, trying to remember any other good details. "Oh, and Kate and Chloe have like, a thing. Like they fight crime or something. I don't really get it but apparently Arcadia Bay really sucks now."

"Hm." Maxine drummed their fingers on the table for a second as they mulled that all over. Finally, they said, "So, Victoria's your girlfriend? And she picks out your clothes?"

Max stuck out her tongue at Maxine's mocking tone. "Only the nice ones," she replied.

Maxine's face told her that didn't make things better. Max huffed. They both took sips of their coffee.

"But, yeah. Victoria's my girlfriend. But things are kind of . . . weird now."

Maxine was leaning against their hand lazily now. "How so?"

Max shrugged. "I dunno," she lied. Then, realizing there was basically nothing to lose in explaining, she said, "Well, okay, so. There was an intermediate timeline between this one and when Victoria and I started dating. And in that timeline, I was a really bad partner, basically, and she kind of fell for somebody else. It kind of . . . well, it sucked. She should have just broken up with me. I still don't get why she didn't."

God. Now it was all just rushing out. It was nice to be honest with someone, but it just felt like garbage. "I'm . . . still not a very good partner. I miss the old her too much, I think."

Taking a breath and swallowing after saying that felt like taking a golf ball-sized pill. It had been her choice to let the old Victoria go for Chloe's sake. And she'd been only too eager to erase the Victoria who fell out of love with her. Max had chosen Victoria's interests second to her own in the most total way there was. And, given the choice, she would do it all again.

She wanted to love Victoria, but it was going to take time. And maybe she wasn't owed that.

Maxine nodded somberly. "Yeah I . . . get that, dude. I'm sorry."

There was a brief pause, and then Maxine asked, "Out of curiosity, who did Vic fall for? I wouldn't have expected that."

"Kate Marsh."

Maxine just blinked, dumbfounded. Their lips curled down in disgust. "Well that's . . . repulsive. Yikes."

Max frowned. "Your Victoria was just a bitch, I take it?"

"You could say that," Maxine sneered. Once Max gave them an expectant glance, then continued, "In my first timeline, Vic and her friends basically baited Kate into suicide. And then she died, and Victoria . . ." Maxine's eyes started to stare past her, somewhere in the past. "Well, she told me to get over it. And I broke my hand on her face." Maxine shrugged, then added casually, "I mean, I would have undid it, except it was my rewind hand so . . . she got stuck with a bruise and I got stuck with two broken fingers."

Max nodded slowly once the story was concluded. "Yeah I . . . I heard about that. Kate's suicide, I mean. I'm sorry." Beat. "Were the two of you friends?"

The way Maxine chuckled only left Max feeling more ill at ease. "Yeah," they said, "we were close."

Max could sense there was more to the story, but though it must have been years ago for them, it didn't seem right to press Maxine for details. And, honestly, Max could do without further confirmation that Victoria might, at heart, just be a horrible person - or so literally everyone from different timelines told her.

Max reached over the table and placed her hand over Maxine's. "I'm sorry," she said. "It seems like you've been through a lot."

Maxine only nodded, the same distant look in their eye.

Max said, "My Kate was invulnerable, actually. That was her power. She took down Jefferson and saved me and Victoria all by herself."

That actually brought shock, then a smile to Maxine's face. "No shit?" The smile turned into a grin. "She's a tough fucking kid. I've seen plenty of timelines where things are better, but my first . . . well, it sticks with me." Maxine turned their hand around slowly, taking Max's hand and stroking the back side of it with her thumb. It was extremely affectionate - but, for some reason, that didn't bother Max much. She found herself easy to trust.

Maxine added, "It seems like it's the same for you, too, huh? The first is always more . . ." they pinched their face as they thought.

"Real?" Max offered.

Maxine nodded. "Yeah."

They were both about done with their coffee and the hand-holding was going on long enough that it was getting a little weird, especially over the table, but Max didn't feel much like pulling away. It wasn't exactly often that she got to experience intimacy with someone who could understand her. Maybe it was better to just wait in the moment, pretend that time was standing still (even if she wasn't making it right now).

And then the moment was over, Max's fingers dragging along the table after slipping from Maxine's touch.

Maxine brushed some of their hair behind her ear before folding their hands in their lap. Their expression was bashful, not making eye contact - much more like the Max behind the mirror had been.

"I'm going to the bathroom real quick," they said, and got up.

Max had finished her coffee by the time Maxine got back out, and the two of them decided it was best to get far away from Jefferson’s body. Fortunately, buses are frequent in Seattle, and there was a bus stop next to the hotel they’d come from. They’d prefer not to go back there at all, but sometimes you have to go back to get where you want to go.

At the bus stop, Max had an idea. “Oh hey,” she said, “do you have your phone on you? I could show you what Kate and Chloe are up to.”

Maxine tilted their head curiously, but reached into their pocket without further questions. Once they handed Max their phone, she made her way to Youtube and tried to recall what the video had been called.

After a minute, she found it, and tilted the screen so they could both take a look. Maxine leaned over, using their body to shade the screen. 

The video was very dark and low-quality, and at first it was difficult to make anything out, but once the picture sharpened, they could see a park at night, two girls in the distance, and a large silhouette only visible because of how it disrupted the trees in the background.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” the person holding the camera said. “There’s these girls, and this big . . . I don’t know what the - OH SHIT.” The narrator cried out as the monstrous silhouette swiped. It didn’t look like it had a body that could possibly make contact with flesh, but one of the girls was lifted from her feet and landed much closer to the camera. She did not move as the narrator said, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” over and over.

“KATE!” the other girl yelled.

Unfortunately, the camera suddenly fell back as the narrator retreated and tripped, the ‘oh fuck’s continuing all the while.

“Is that . . . Chloe?” Maxine asked, turning towards Max.

Max just held a finger to her mouth to ‘sh’, and indicated back at the video.

The video just shook as the narrator tried to get back to their feet, but suddenly froze as a horrible shrieking overwhelmed the audio. After a second, they gave up and sat still on the grass, holding the shaky phone camera up to catch what was happening.

A circle of flame had emerged around the shadow, and now its form was much clearer. It looked like the upper body of a wolf-like creature, with long hands and a muzzle. Its mouth was open as screamed, and inside its mouth was a bright fire. It was wrong, unnatural, impossible, belonging to the world of bad Hollywood films and an increasing number of derivative HBO shows. And it was sinking into the Earth like cartoon quicksand, the flames revealing the tall girl standing just out of reach of the monster’s flailing claws.

“Does Chloe have a sword?” Maxine asked.

Max grinned but said nothing. The best part was coming up.

The narrator was sputtering nonsense mostly in the form of ‘fuck’ attached to a few other choice phrases, but was staying still enough to get both girls in the frame. Just as the monster’s hands were disappearing inside the ring of fire, the girl on the ground shuttered, prompting another startled yelp from behind the camera. A second later, the girl slowly picked herself up and dusted herself off, just in time to watch the creature disappear entirely from view, and the ring of fire to vanish after it.

Once the girl was on her feet, she turned, looking back at the camera, and then the person behind it.

“Justin?” she asked, then groaned. It was definitely Kate Marsh - most other people wouldn’t wear clean-pressed clothes to a fight in the park, after all - and there were spots in her clothes that made it look like she was bleeding. She didn’t seem to notice, or at the very least, care.

“Justin, get out of here.”

There was a second of scrambling, and then the video cut.

“Kate is so good,” Max said, a hand covering her mouth to hide her continuing smile. She looked up at Maxine, who was just smirking at her. “And maybe immortal, I guess?”

Maxine laughed but was also clearly uncomfortable. “I guess. And there are, like . . . demons in this timeline?”

“Ha. Yeah.” Max handed Maxine their phone back, as proud as they were disturbed. “I’ve actually kind of been trying not to think about that part. But Kate looks like she’s doing okay.”

Maxine’s expression softened. “You’re right. Even if she won’t stop getting herself into trouble.”

Maxine paused for a second, glancing around on the sidewalk. Then she started, “Max, I-”

“Oh, our bus is here.”

Max pointed behind Maxine, but Maxine didn’t bother to look. They only sighed, and then tried again; “Max, it’s actually just your bus. I’ve got to go.”

“What?” Max surprised herself with how crestfallen she sounded, and did her best to edit her voice calmer in follow-up. “Why is that?”

Maxine talked quickly as the bus rapidly approached. “Well, I mean, I’ve got something I’ve got to do, and Jefferson was really just kind of a point on the to-do list, and - and, shit.”

Maxine suddenly held her hands up in a way that made Max flinch. It took her a second to realize that the world had fallen quiet, and the bus had stopped moving towards them.

“Whoah,” Max whispered. The longer she looked, the more the world looked wrong, with unmoving birds in the sky and flags still in the process of flapping in the breeze. She had never tried to freeze time in such a public place, and even the sound of her breath now was audible on some busy street in Seattle. It was beautiful and terrifying, a world gone dead but perfectly preserved. It was a painting of the present that should have been her past.

Maxine was not so caught up in it, though. “Max?” they asked, pulling her into the present that really was her present.

“Hm?”

Maxine reached out and took Max’s hand, and Max finally stopped looking at the world around her.

“Look, Max. I’ve got to go. But I wanted to say thank you first. It’s been . . . it’s been hard, being alone for so long. It was nice to meet someone who could understand what it’s like being me. And I don’t want to say ‘bye’ just yet.”

“I don’t really see why you have to,” Max replied in frustration. She didn’t feel like losing another person so quickly. “But . . . yeah. I feel the same way.” Max squeezed Maxine’s hand, looking up into their eyes as if there she would find the reason they had to leave. “It was nice.”

Maxine clearly hesitated on something for a moment, but Max waited for them to figure it out. When they finally got the words out, though - “Can I kiss you?” it took Max a few seconds to process their meaning.

“Oh-oh. Um.” She hadn’t really thought of their flirting as having any underlying possibility to it. The connection she felt to her other selves was just natural, automatic. But this didn’t really feel like either.

Still, here they were out of time, and Maxine was beautiful, and whatever this connection was, it was transient. Soon, Maxine wouldn’t even exist - not here, at least.

Max nodded. “Mhm.”

Maxine continued to hesitate for a moment, but then took a step forward. They placed their hand tentatively on Max’s cheek, and Max reached out to grab their hips and pull them closer, to let them know it was okay.

And then they kissed. When it continued past the first kiss, Max ran her fingers up Maxine’s side, tracing lines over their shoulder blade, holding them close. When the kiss finally broke, her fingers trailed down Maxine’s arm, briefly catching their wrist, then their fingers. When her fingers caught on some metal on Maxine’s wrist, it brought her attention from their face down to their hand.

It took her a second to recognize it, but she did. “Hey, isn’t that Victoria’s bracelet?” she asked.

When she saw Maxine’s hand reaching up for her neck, she thought they were bringing her in for another kiss. At least, until the metal sting appeared in her neck, and she realized too late what had happened.

Max flinched back and held a hand up to her neck, but she knew it didn’t take long to push the plunger in a syringe like that. The syringe caught her eye quickly now that she knew what she was looking for, and it was familiar down to the size and brand, just sitting in Maxine’s other hand. When had it gotten there?

Max reached up to rewind, but it was like she was hit by a wave - reality flashed for a second and pain split her forehead, but time did not move.

“You can’t be . . . serious.” GHB worked so quickly in its injected form . She was already having trouble talking.

“I’m sorry Max. I really am.” Maxine took a step forward, offering out her hand in a way Max simply could not understand.

“Get - get away from me.”

“I just don’t want you to hit your head.”

Max was stumbling, and her vision was useless even if it was working. She reached out to pull time back again, but again the same blinding flash erupted in her eyes. When it faded, she found herself on her knees, breathing heavily but not enough.

Maxine dropped down into a crouch in front of Max, not trying to touch her, knowing they had to do nothing at this point.

“I really was nice to meet you, Max. I’m sorry about this.”

Max tried to work up the coherence to say ‘fuck you’ or something with the same level of venom, but before she could form the words, she lost consciousness.

#life is strange #fan fiction #life in snippets #post-life in snippets #max caulfield #maxine caulfield #max caulfield x max caulfield #selfcest #involuntary drug use #murdering jefferson #long post #ben writes stuff

[rueitae]

Tagged by @sp4c3-0ddity Thanks! Lets take a crack at this. It’s a bit boring for others, but helped me focus on what I want to do for 2018.

Tagging @ritsuka-aoki and @eddiefook because I know you both are able to do this. You don’t have to post it though.

STATS:

Fics posted:  2

FF.Net:  Don’t Stop (14,168 words) Pokemon kid fic, full of as many ironies and references as I possibly could fit

Archive of Our Own:  N/A

Tumblr: Magic Castle Bus (1702 words) VLD crack fic. High school AU where the Castle is a magic school bus.

Ship/Character breakdown: Ship breakdown: Surprisingly no ships. Technically pokeshipping and rocketshipping in Don’t Stop, but it’s a kid fic, so romance is a bit of a done thing. Character breakdown:  A bunch of OCs and the Voltron ensemble cast, no one in particular stands out with what I actually posted in 2017.

Characters that had the main focus: Again, I really didn’t get focused on any one particular character.

Specifics:

Best/worst title? Best title: Don’t Stop had the most thought put into it. I struggled for a long time with it. My coworker tried to make me name it ‘Skye’s the Limit’ after the main character. I groaned too hard.

Worst title:  Since I only have two fics I posted, Magic Castle Bus is a bit generic. But it does let you know what’s involved.

Best/worst first line? Best: This first line gave me an easy way to introduce the main OC for Don’t Stop. So it’s more a matter of convenience.

“Did you decide yet, Skye?”

Worst: I wanted the opening to be far more chaotic in Magic Castle Bus than it actually ended up being, so I’m not really a fan of it anymore.

When Allura opened the door to the classroom, it was as she expected.

Best/worst last line? Best: I wrote this ending to Don’t Stop before I had written half of the actual fic. I had a lot of feelings about parenting that day.

Surrounded by good friends, chased by Team Rocket, and watched over by legendary pokemon; Ash was confident the formula that had worked for him would help his daughter grow into a well rounded human being. She would be able to do whatever she wanted with her life.

As her father and fellow trainer, that was all he could ever ask for.

Worst: I struggled to find an ending to Magic Castle Bus. I could have easily had them go on an actual science adventure - and I almost did - but I wrote the entire thing during one 8 hour shift at work and I didn’t want to lose interest and not finish it. So Shiro became my scapegoat.

He resolved to find himself a hobby. Fast.

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Considering last January I wasn’t even reading fics, I’d say more than expected.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

VLD, I didn’t really get involved in the fandom until this past July despite having been watching it since season one aired. Since it isn’t finished and has a set number of episodes, I didn’t think I’d be motivated to write anything until the series was over. I was wrong. What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Don’t Stop is my baby.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

Don’t Stop actually still Reviews: 3 - Favs: 15 - Follows: 6, which is more than I expected to get.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

Honestly Magic Castle Bus is a genius concept. I just wish I could have executed it better.

Story that could have been better?

Same as above

Sexiest story?

Um. I did use Lance’s crush on Allura in Magic Castle Bus. He falls off a desk.

Saddest story?

Don’t Stop is sad in the respect that it has the feel of a parent saying goodbye to their child for college, where they’ll be far away from home for the first time. Most fun?

Don’t Stop again because I was definitely into it.

Story with single sweetest moment?

Don’t Stop in which Ash simultaneously becomes a mentor and gets sweet revenge.

Ash wasn't sure he liked the inevitability with which Billy spoke of the meeting, but he wasn't surprised either as he did see them with some regularity still. “I'll keep your secret,” he promised.

The boy was clearly relieved, a weight off his shoulders lifted.

"Pikapi, pikachu pika." Pikachu tugged on Ash's jacket for attention and then pointed to the trainer's backpack.

Ash understood and looked back and forth between his best friend and the unfortunate boy beside him. "Are you sure, Pikachu?"

Pikachu nodded. "Pika chupika."

Ash grinned. Pikachu had always been an excellent judge of character.

The two of them were also never above having a bit of petty revenge.

"Billy," Ash started. "I think it would be a good idea for you to travel some. You know, just for fun. I'll bet the girls would be happy to have you. You seemed to get along with them pretty well this afternoon."

Billy stared incredulously. "I just told you that I'm the son of the guys who stalked you across the world and to this day try and take Pikachu from you. After all that you're asking me to travel with your daughter?"

"Well, you really don't seem like you have any interest in following in their footsteps. So whether you go or not, Pikachu and I have something we'd like to give to you." Ash was satisfied he had at least planted the idea in the boy's head.

Billy was skeptical. "You? Have something for me?"

Ash reached into his backpack and pulled out the egg from its protective tube. "We brought it to the ranch to be around the pokemon outside, but I think it would do better with you."

Billy took the egg gingerly. The look on his face was uncertain. "I've barely scraped through as a trainer, I'm not sure I can take care of a baby pokemon." He paused. “You know my parents would flip if they knew about this.”

"Pokemon eggs are tougher than you think, and this one is special." He paused, then decided to at least impart some adult advice. "And if I know your parents as well as I think I do, I'm sure they're worried about you. Even if you don't tell them where you are, they would appreciate knowing you're safe. So promise me to give them a call when the egg hatches, okay?" Ash then produced the biggest grin. "And tell them it was from me and Pikachu."

(The egg is Pikachu’s and Billy is the rocketshipping kid)

Hardest story to write?

Magic Castle Bus I wanted to take them on a fun meteorological adventure. Then I realized I’d actually try and start deriving the Q-G Omega equation and decided it was not worth it.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

Don’t Stop It got written in three days, which is like a small miracle for me.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Not my writing specifically, but reading from others helped refine my perceptions of almost all the characters.

Most overdue story?

Don’t Stop I have been developing this story since I was 12.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I’d say writing Magic Castle Bus was a risk. I purposefully restricted myself for time and forced myself to finish, which kept me focused on writing. So even if I’m not the happiest with it, it helped me learn that if I just stick with it instead of going to tumblr or reading other fic when I’m stuck, that I actually can get something coherent out and add to the fandom.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Write more VLD now that I feel more comfortable with it. I have three open fics that I would really like to finish.

Write some original stuff. I am already on this! For years I did a lot of role play since my friends and I couldn’t meet up personally anymore to play dungeons and dragons. So we ended up playing our characters through online chat and created such a rich and interesting world and I want to play in that sandbox. Incidentally it’s where my tumblr name comes from.

Stay involved in the fandoms I enjoy and comment as much as possible.

Continue with Don’t Stop. I’ve got at least 14 chapters mapped out and 2-3 actually written besides what is posted. It’s my comfort fic that I’ll always go back to. I also have something of a beta reader for it who keeps asking me for more. Easy motivation.

#personal #2018 writing goals #qna

[argentenigma]

Another one of these awesome tagging deals. Thanks to @mendelworth for putting me up for it. Interesting questions. Gonna be tough to follow them up.

Rules: Always post the rules, answer the questions given to you, write 10 questions of your own, tag 10 people.

1. Are there any of your own WIPs that you would want to live in? Why or why not?

Definitely not the horror ones. Life is hard enough without malevolent entities that toy with us pathetic humans. And I’m really back and forth on my sci-fi WIP. Like, sure it’d be sweet to live in an age of technological wonders, but that whole galaxy is pretty fucked. I’d say yes, but only if I could choose what planet I lived on.

2. What is your biggest pet peeve when starting a book you’ve never read?

It’s gotta be trying to keep the book so that it doesn’t look like it’s been read. Never folding pages or leaving stains on them. Being gentle with the spine so it doesn’t flex. Things like that.

3. On days where you don’t want to write, but you know you really should, what do you do to hype yourself up for the task at hand?

I actually have a playlist titled “I Am the Hype” for that very reason. Lots of songs on there to get the gears turning.

4. What really cool things can you do in real life that maybe people don’t know about? Maybe you’re double-jointed. Maybe you can crochet sick scarves. Tell me about it if you want, I’m not judging.

I’m a self-taught drummer. Unfortunately, with how often I’ve been moving around for the last few years, I don’t have my own set and haven’t played in a long time. But it’s a lot like riding a bike or driving a stick shift. You never really forget how to do it.

5. Your main character drinks amortentia! What do they smell?

Oh lordy. I haven’t talked a whole lot about my characters so I’ll go ahead and pose this for the three mains. First up is Wilhelm. He’s gonna smell fresh coffee, open electrical circuits, and whatever it is that makes up Sophia’s natural scent (natural scent is a thing, right?). Then Floyd, who smells his mother’s cooking, his favorite beer, and Kat’s hair. Lastly, Kat smells the engine exhaust from her ship, the pages of her journal, and Floyd’s cologne.

6. Does your inner-writer have someone else’s voice? How would you describe it?

Well they definitely sound a lot cooler than me. To describe it, I’d say it’s my voice with a decent Charisma modifier. For you D&D folks out there. 

7. Imagine one of your characters has a cooking show. What would their top five recipe titles be?

I’ll give this one to Floyd. New Monroe Mix (a trail mix deal of all the seeds, nuts, and dehydrated peppers local to his neck of the planet), Ma’s Meatloaf (it’s a meatloaf, dunno what else there is to say), Blue-cap Stew (like rabbit stew, but with those pesky rodents that constantly get into his crop), Riverside Filet (seared fish, steamed greens, a mustard-like sauce), and Humble Pie (an actual loaded gun).

8. Pick 2-5 characters and give them each a theme song.

I love this question. Wilhelm’s is “A Life Left Behind” by Dream Theater. Kat’s is “The Squeaky Wheel” by The Dear Hunter. Floyd’s is definitely “Key Entity Extraction V: Sentry the Defiant” by Coheed and Cambria. Raven’s is “Let’s Shake Some Dust” by Volbeat.

9. Think of your favorite character from a show or movie. Now throw them into any intense situation in your book!  How would they react?

What else would Guts from Berserk do in any situation? He would cut down every motherfucker that stood in his way with a gigantic blade.

10. Tell me more about your WIP(s), you can be as vague or thorough as you like! 

The Hands that Built Anubis: A scientific mastermind named Wilhelm who is kidnapped from his planet and made to face the grim truth of his own existence. He is forced to work with his captors in their frantic flee from the dogged hunters that pursue them. When the darks wrought by the Coalition are brought to bare, Wilhelm must decide to either continue pointlessly running away or start a fire and bring it all burning down.

Here are my questions:

1. What is your favorite line from your current WIP(s)? 2. Was there a song that really helped you write out a scene? If so, what was it and how did it help? 3. How would your characters take their coffee? 4. How did you name your characters? (Sound of the name, name meaning, etc.) 5. All of your characters square off in gladiatorial combat. Who walks out of that arena alive? 6. Favorite books of all time? 1-5 will do. 7. Who is your hardest character to write for and why? 8. Favorite genre to write/read? 9. Which of your characters would be the best drinking buddy and why? 10. Tell me more about your WIP(s).

Always a lot of fun, these things.

@faeswords @isnappedmypencil @theinkstainsblog @janeapricity @hklunethewriter @tcstu @jessica-denise @jmorgynwhite @ephirae and @brynwrites. You’re up. Or not. Totally understandable if not.

#writing #writer #amwriting #writeblr

[fmabigbang]

Summaries for mobile, as the link doesn’t work:

Looking for ships?

Roy/Ed: #1, #2, #3, #6, #7, #14, #17, #19, #22, #23

Roy/Riza: #8, #9, #16, #20, #21

Al/Mei: #8, #12, #17, #21

Ed/Winry: #8, #12, #18

Al/Wrath: #18

Greed/Ling: #23

Havoc/Fuery: #23

Ling/Lan Fan: #8

Maes/Gracia: #4

Olivier/Roy: #5

Riza/Rebecca Catalina: #10

Russell Tringham/Belsio: #2

(Please note that only main/major ships are included in this list)

Fic #1: Dead Ringer

Summary:  Love, as fleeting as it is sweet. After a single date, Roy Mustang is left with only funeral flowers and the memory of a guy who could have been The One.  A few months later, he finds himself introduced to a friend of a friend who looks eerily familiar. Second chances come from unexpected places, he knows, but—Ed’s cousin?

Author: Xyriath Continuity: Modern Amestris AU Length: Roughly 20k Pairings: Roy/Ed, Ling/Lan Fan (background) Rating: T or E (depends on age of artist) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Amestris, Alchemy, Hijinks, Humor, Lan Fan you had one job, A Comedy of Intrusive Thoughts Major warnings: No

Fic #2

Summary: Centuries after faery-kind disappeared from the planet—in part due to humanity’s fear and hatred of them—their part-human descendants continue to face discrimination, particularly in Amestris, where Lord Selim the Prideful has recently inherited his father’s power. Lord Selim wishes for a nation that adequately reflects his own greatness, and thus seeks to purge it of anything nonindicative of that, “halflings” included, starting with a widespread movement to identify and relocate them to designated areas throughout the country. John Belsio, a halfling farmer and hunter, wouldn’t be bothered, but Lord Selim chooses his extensive plot of land as one such relocation area for part-humans throughout Eastern Amestris. His precious privacy infringed upon, Belsio travels to Central City to confront Selim, who makes a deal with him: if Belsio completes a quest for him, Selim will gladly move the halflings elsewhere and leave Belsio in peace. With former politician and fugitive Roy Mustang at his side, whether he likes it or not, Belsio sets out to complete Selim’s task, which, between discovering a decades-long conspiracy and the burgeoning revolution, turns out to be more than he bargained for—and maybe exactly what he needed.

Author: geichang Continuity: total AU featuring characters from both versions Length: 40k ish. EXTREME emphasis on the ‘ish’ Pairings: Belsio/Russell Tringham, Roy/Edward (side) Rating: T (teen) Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Part-Human Characters, Fantastic Racism, Minor Character Focus, Autistic Protagonist, Friends to Lovers Major warnings:  No

Fic #3

Summary: Roy Mustang was born, saved a kingdom and its prince, and died of old age, the love of his life by his side. And then he wakes, Edward nowhere in sight. By some twist of fate, Roy lives again. And again. And again. His existence, he finds, is part of a prophecy; a plan set out by the gods to combat that great evil he thought he had conquered all those years ago. Roy has decided he hates the gods. Not only can he have no rest, but neither can those he loves - Roy is haunted constantly by familiar faces, who no longer even know his name. So, Roy deigns to live a life of solitude - if he is to be forced to give his attachments up after every lifetime, then it would be better for him to never have attached himself in the first place. The gods, it seems, won’t even let him have that. With each life, that Great Evil twists and grows, finding new ways to wreak havoc across Hyrule, and it should be easy for Roy to lose himself in his duty - the thing the gods chose him to do. His life, however, is tied to Hyrule - particularly, its leader. When all attempts to push away one princely figure in particular fail spectacularly, Roy is dragged kicking and screaming into loving again, and with every life, with every goodbye followed be Edward’s unrecognizing eyes at their next meeting, Roy wonders how much of this he can take. (Legend of Zelda AU, with no prior knowledge of the source material needed whatsoever.)

Author: fishingclocks Continuity: Both Length: 30,000 Pairings: Roy/Ed Rating: T (teen) Tags: Legend of Zelda AU,  Reincarnation, Romance, monster-killing at any and all ages, so i suppose child endangerment, incorporates nearly any zelda game you can think of, Angst, yet surprising amounts of fluff, and humor because my Roy is a snarky little loser, will you ever see anything nerdier?, the world will never know Major warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #4

Summary: When Maes Hughes’ body arrives into Central City Morgue, Dr. Knox and his assistant are shocked to find him barely alive inside the body bag. Working quickly, they manage to save him, only for Maes to awaken and nearly re-injure himself in his desperation to get vital information to Roy Mustang. Using a network of underground informants and smugglers, Maes manages to escape Amestris- but at what cost? And can he still manage to alert Roy to the plans of the people who tried to assassinate him? Follow along as Maes becomes one of the living dead and travels out of the country, to save himself- and all of Amestris- from whatever is making that giant transmutation circle.

Author: SonjaJade Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 34000 Pairings: Maes/Gracia, Maes/Roy (past), Roy/Riza (background), Ed/Winry (background) Rating: T (teen) Tags: Blood, surgical situations, disguises, hideouts, on the run, coded messages, Maes lives AU Major warnings: No

Fic #5

Summary: After an incident with a rogue alchemist, Roy and Olivier find themselves in a strange place and in need of a way back. Their misadventure will open the door to some of the greatest changes Amestris has seen in a long time.

Author: MaiKusakabe Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 40-50k Pairings: Roy/Olivier, Ed/Winry (background), pre-Al/Mei (background) Rating: E (explicit) Tags: (possible) explicit sexual content, crossover with Harry Potter, language Major warnings: No

Fic #6: The Devil in the Desert Sun

Summary: Roy Mustang is stuck in a rut. And by “a rut,” he explicitly means Cameron, the Eastern ghost town wherein he is investigating his latest story. After he is so rudely ousted from his job as Editor-In-Chief of the Central times on the Führer’s executive order, all he can do is hope to redeem himself to the public by solving a case that has eluded federal and local investigators for years. And so Roy hunts for the Alchemist, a serial killer with a habit of leaving things called “transmutation circles” on the bodies of their victims. When he makes the acquaintance of an activist with a missing best friend and a strange knack for the Alchemist’s own state-restricted secrets, Roy’s suspicions that the Amestrian Military has something to do with the murders are only furthered. Conspiratorial leanings aside, Roy has to get to the bottom of the truth before the case can upend the lives of the very people he’s trying so hard to protect. If only he were as good at keeping everyone safe as he was at starting wildfires.

Author: asonohara Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 40-50K Pairings: Roy/Ed Rating: E (explicit) Tags: violence, graphic descriptions of death/murder, mentions of past suicidal attempts/ideation, character death, prescription drug abuse, smut, bottom!roy, journalist!roy, activist!ed, modern au, alternate universe-canon divergence, modern brotherhood au Major warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #7: A Lesson in Distraction

Summary: His goals hadn’t, and would never be without trials. Mistakes had, and would be made; he was only human after all, but he had no intention of ever letting it stop him. Roy hadn’t done the things he had, come this far, to back out now or ever. No Alpha would cow him, no amount of gossip or derisive opinion would sway him. If a megalomaniacal pseudo God and his menagerie of unnatural ‘offspring’ hadn’t been enough to deter him, then nothing would. Roy Mustang would bow out only when he himself was ready to; when he’d deemed his goals accomplished sufficiently. Only then would he step back and let everything else fall where it may. And, so close to the top seat, the last thing he needed was a distraction. It was decidedly unfortunate that he neglected to take into account nature’s tendency to overrule the paltry decisions of man, and throw troublesome Elric’s at him. Alternatively: Roy gets blindsided by his biology, and Ed really isn’t helping.

Author: Fullmetalflame Continuity: Post Brotherhood Canon Length: Estimated at 25-30k (May exceed) Pairings: Roy/Ed, Riza/Sheska (background), Alphonse/Fuery (background) Rating: E (explicit) Tags: (Ooh boy) My entry for the 2k17 FMA big bang, Alpha/Beta/Omega, and everything that entails including, knotting, mpreg, it’s not overly graphic, but it is sort of a big thing though, post Brotherhood canon, coarse language, on account of Ed’s potty-mouth, Roy pov, Omega Roy Mustang, Alpha Edward Elric, NSFW, protective!Team Mustang, no angst, light hearted fic, I promise, Alphonse is a little shit, minor background relationships, slash, smut, lots of smut, pwp, porn with plot, Roy’s a strong proud Omega who don’t need no Alpha, but he’ll take Ed anyway, because he’s a dork, the author regrets nothing, what are tags, bonding, marking, smug Omega, seriously, strut your stuff Roy, Madame Christmas knows, seriously, she knows, what else, uh, that’s it I guess? Major warnings: No

Fic #8: Under the same roof

Summary: “This is bound to be a disaster!” Ed muttered under his breath, hoping that no one would hear him but just wanting to get it out of his system. He was setting the table for his guests: ‘and what guests!’ he thought ironically. Ten years have passed since the Promised Day, and many things have changed. Finally, the friends have time to reunite in Resembool and old stories are dug up, secrets are disclosed and hilarity ensues.

Author: ionica01 Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 75k Pairings: Ed/Winry, Roy/Riza, Ling/Lan Fan, Al/Mei Rating: T (teen) Tags: Fluff, Romance, Funny, Couples, Usual Ed-Roy Bickering, Embarrassing Stories, Politics, World-Building, Character Development, Visit (and Ed isn’t happy), Bonding Time, Families Major warnings: No

Fic #9

Summary: The Illumination is a phenomenon that makes the wounds people bear visible to all in a ray of light. It is completely harmless to human health aside from making one acknowledge it. It started on the third of October 1910 and everyone remembers it very well. Follow the story as Roy, Edward, Alphonse, and the rest of the team experience the illumination to see just how far some might go to douse the lights of another’s pain. Inspired by the Illumination by Kevin Brockmeier.

Author: Literatureworks Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 50,000 Pairings: Roy/Riza Rating: T (teen) Tags: illuminationAU, Everyday life, pain, Hurt/comfort, Parental, Just an all-around good feeling sappy story of everyday emotions and circumstances, stressbaking Major warnings: No

Fic #10

Summary: Riza Hawkeye knew that her father would die, but she never thought she’d miss him. She also didn’t anticipate his apprentice, a young man named Roy Mustang. And she never thought she’d take up the alchemy tattooed onto her back, but apparently life was full of surprises. Asking Mustang to mentor her, she begins her journey down the alchemic path. She becomes close, and eventually trusts him enough to see the tattoos on her back. Apparently that was all Roy wanted, and soon after seeing her at her most vulnerable, disappears. She finds him a week later in a motel, poring over her most guarded secret and forgetting that Riza even existed. Heartbroken, she decides to continue on her path, except now not content with just being Roy’s equal. She’ll surpass him now, she swears it. Apparently, others want the same for her, and help her along the way—but at what cost?

Author: Veilrony Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 55 000 words Pairings: Riza/Rebecca (main), Roy/Riza (main for 10 chapters, not “endgame”) Rating: T (teen) Tags: Unhealthy Royai, Alchemist!Riza, Fic Spans 10 Years Major warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #11: Consigned to Oblivion

Summary: Memory is powerful, but easy to fabricate. When Edward Elric has to choose between his brother’s life and his own, he decides to make a sacrifice far greater than he anticipated. The Gate waits for him, and with only a week to live the life he longed for, time is the greatest enemy of all.

Author: wrongnote Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 25k to 35k, most likely. (maybe longer) Pairings: Ed/Winry (background), Roy/Riza (background) Rating: T (teen) Tags: Parental Roy & Ed Major warnings: No

Fic #12

Summary: Edward enters the Far West, searching for new forms of alchemy. In the red dustbowl of the western lands, he meets with a man that many claims can perform miracles, but Edward’s past experiences with both Dr. Marcoh and Father Cornello told him he was going to find a Philosopher’s Stone behind these so-called “miracles”. During his meeting with Don Paco, Edward learns about magick: an ancient mystic art of Don Paco’s people. Edward takes a gamble when Don Paco offered him the possibility of restoring his Gate of Truth and thus restoring his ability to use alchemy. Little did he know that this “Miracle Man” had a hidden agenda, so on the morning after Don Paco performs the Ritual of Transcendence, the former State Alchemist finds himself trapped in the body of a cat. When all seemed lost, Edward finds an ally in Matilde, Don Paco’s wife. Thanks to Matilde, Edward learns that Don Paco had stolen his body and is heading to Resembool to find Winry. What he wants with the automail mechanic remains a mystery. Armed with the knowledge that the Ritual Transcendence can be reversed, Edward heads East to stop Don Paco and keep Winry from harm.

Author: hirstories Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 30,000+ Pairings: Ed/Winry, Al/Mei Rating: T (teen) Tags: Canon compliant AU, Canon relationships, Implied relationships, Multiple OCs, Humor, Supernatural, Adventure, Mild violence, Cursing Major warnings: No

Fic #13: sicut in caelo et in terra

Summary: A series of shorter stories set in a world where canon alchemists are not scientists, but deities: making up a Pantheon of gods and goddesses, with Truth and Hohenheim at their helm. The series details scenes along the boys’ journey to harnessing their inherited powers and locating their father, trying to restore balance to the world of deities and discovering what he left the Pantheon to do.

Author: miraculous-stardust Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: >15k Pairings: Roy/Riza (background), Maes/Gracia (background) - pairings exist but the fic is gen Rating: T (teen) Tags: fmabb 17, deity au, basically alchemists +homunculi and gracia are deities, a series of smaller fics bc this got out of hand, inspired by the fma prototype chapter and greek mythology Major warnings: No

Fic #14

Summary: If there is one universal truth, it is that Edward Elric will do anything for his little brother…right? Yet Al is sick and Ed refuses to consider magic as a possible cause or cure. With the best intentions, Al goes behind Ed’s back to pursue the possibility, requesting assistance from Detective Roy Mustang—the only State recognized civilian Mage.  Roy reluctantly agrees, positive that doing so is about as smart as hugging a live grenade but curious because of, both the large disparity in mindsets of the brothers, and his rocky history with Ed. It predictably explodes in his face. Meanwhile, Roy has his hands full trying to protect those few magic users he’s able to track down within the confines of his profession from a world no one believes in (all the while assisting Al where he can and sidestepping explosive interactions with Ed).  He finds himself missing patterns, falling a step behind when he should be a step ahead and his past catches him unaware. Despite Ed’s protests that magic is just a flashy form of alchemy, it exists and it’s coming for him in a very real way. And when handed a decision, Ed makes the worst possible one. Tldr: Everyone: Ed, no!        Ed: Ed, FUCKIN’ yes!

Author: Catie-brie Continuity: AU that pulls from both Length: 40-50k-ish ?? Pairings: Roy/Ed (main) Ling/Lan Fan (background), Havoc/Breda/Rebecca (background), Ed/Ling (past), Roy/Kimblee (past) Can’t think of any others but ships kind of just happen when I write Rating: M (mature) Tags: Urban Fantasy AU, Modern!Amestris, with magic!, Dark, watch out for the fae, fae and faeries, '03 flavored ending, Ed will do stupid things to protect his brother, angst, enemies to lovers to friends to better lovers, UST, RST, unhealthy depictions of sex (magic), other depictions of sex, canon typical violence Major warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #15: Careful what you wish for

Summary: The homunculi each had a desire.  Friends, family, love, and they got what they wanted. Just not in the way they would have wanted it. Envy has abusive relatives, lust falls in love with almost every man, greed has all the possessions he could want,  but not in the prime of conditions. Edward and three others have to go into this world, similar to 03 but is brotherhood,  and collect all the homunculi and take them back to truth, as to have their current lives, they took a piece of him each that has to be recovered. Warning, this story will be very trigger sensitive. It deals with abusive relatives, mental and physical disorders. It can be fairly gory and depressive at parts. If you are sensitive to any of those things. Please do not read.

Author: Homunculus101 Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 20k or above. Pairings: N/A Rating: T (teen) Tags: Mental disorder, physical disorders, gore, real life issues Major warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #16:

Summary: While people fear the monsters they’ve read in children’s stories or even see in movies, the real monsters within humans can be even more horrifying. How does Edward contend with what’s killing people all over the world? How does Roy contend with the monster that is slowly growing from the military?  Everyone has a demon, a personal monster, how does humanity deal with a threat like that?

Author: YYLoverGirl1 Continuity: An AU inspired by Blassreiter while still keeping elements from Brotherhood Length: 15k+ Pairings: Roy/Riza Rating: T (teen)   Tags: (none) Major warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #17: Bringing the Fight to You

Summary: Story so far:

Edward and Alphonse were born a few years earlier, so Edward is 21 at the beginning of this story. Edward never became a State Alchemist, instead, he and Alphonse train with Izumi Curtis and travel the world, learning as much as they can. Alphonse is now a doctor, and Edward has multiple PhDs in the fields of Alchemy and Languages, and is a professor at Central University. He also helps out at the hospital whenever he has spare time, using Alchehestry to increase people’s chances of survival until the doctors (and Alphonse) can get to them. They saved Maes Hughes, who set up Edward as Roy Mustang’s escort to a military ball.

Edward and Alphonse learn of the conspiracy involving the Promised Day.

This fic:

In order to prevent the scheme of the military high command to use all of Amestris to become immortal, Edward and Alphonse join forces with Mustang. They gather allies and prepare as best they can for the fight to come. Along the way, Roy and Ed have to hide their relationship, in order to tempt the senior staff into thinking they can gain Ed as an ally for their schemes. This doesn’t stop their romance from blooming, but many obstacles are put in their path. This is the story of how the Promised Day, and the year leading up to it, would have gone, had Edward stayed out of the military, and Hughes survived to tell the tale of a nationwide transmutation circle.

Author: caraakame Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 20k - 30k Pairings: Roy/Ed, Al/May, Greed/Ling (background) Rating: M (mature) Tags: AU, Angst, So much angst, some fluff, possible smut, Hughes survives, Doctor!Al, Professor!Ed, Alternate Timeline Major warnings: Major Character Death

Fic #18: Dante’s Divine Comedy

Summary: Edward Elric has never met the host of tonight’s dinner party. In fact the only thing he truly knows about them is that they are offering key information regarding the disappearance of his father. He would have never have come here with his fiancé otherwise. Upon arrival, Edward is surprised to see that there a quite a few familiar faces among the guests. Even more so when he realizes just how similar their motivations are for attending. Though the night quickly turns for the worst as more guests begin to disappear causing Edward to realize that some things are better left buried and forgotten.

Author: totallynotmyfanfiction Continuity: FMA 2003 Length: 20,000 (in the end) Pairings: Al/Wrath, Ed/Winry, Winry/Paninya (past), Dante/Hohenheim (background), Greed/Envy (background), Dante/Greed (background), Lust/Scar (background) Rating: T (teen) Tags: Murder Mystery, Human AU, Slightly Older Characters, Some Humor, Tragedy, Major warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #19

Summary: In a world where the Gate works on different principles, the price Ed pays for Al’s soul isn’t an arm, but his humanity. Turned into a strange and unnatural beast, he and Al run away, and end up settling in an old castle ruin. Hiding from sight, they spend years searching for a way to get their true bodies back. But then the military shows up, and Roy ends up as Ed’s “hostage”. Though it’s hard to tell who’s the more unwilling party. Well, at first, anyway.

Author: Spuri Continuity: AU (possible vague mention of some Brotherhood details) Length: 46000 Pairings: Roy/Ed Rating: M (mature) Tags: AU - Beauty and the Beast, fluff, crack, slight angst, mention of non-trans related dysphoria, (aka Ed is Beast and understandably has issues), Major warnings: No

Fic #20

Summary: He hates being reduced to the role of civilian – a convalescing civilian, even more. He hates the red tape that surrounds his recovery; hates that Riza still hasn’t come out of her coma like the doctors said she would.

The aftermath of the Promised Day isn’t pleasant for anybody involved.

Author: Tsaritsa Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 15k Pairings: Roy/Riza, Ed/Winry (background) Rating: T (teen) Tags: (none) Major warnings: No

Fic #21: The Wilderness

Summary: Amestris becomes a harrowingly silent place on the afternoon of the Promised Day and only the survivors at the center are left to tread over it. Within a few hours, they won’t be the only ones wandering.

Author: haganenobeato Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 25,000+ Pairings: Roy/Riza (main), Al/Mei, Ed/Winry (background) Rating: M (mature) Tags: Horror, Dark, Psychological distress, Zombies, Kinda gorey, Lots of things happen REAL QUICK, some light moments to help Major warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #22: Heathens

Summary: Central City has never been a quiet city. Sex and drugs—the currency of choice in the criminal underground—overflow in the streets leaving fear and unrest in its wake. Obsidian Inferno, the most exclusive club in Central, caters to an exclusive clientele with the most notorious playboy,Roy Mustang, on its throne.  However when a recent string of murders and drug overdoses takes the city by storm, the evidence starts to point to the Inferno. Detective Edward Elric must go undercover to solve the case, but discovers that not everything is what it seems. As the pressure mounts, his discovery threatens to tear apart everything he loves.

Author: Stargazerlilith Continuity: AU with a mix of both worlds Length: 25,000 - 30,000 ish Pairings: Roy/Ed, Ed/Russell (past) Rating: E (explicit) Tags: Drug abuse, gang violence, alcohol abuse, possible kink, sexual content, graphic murders, Schizophrenic characters. Major warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fic #23: Antebellum Innocence

Summary: The year is 1922, and New York City has never been more rife with drama, drugs, conflict, and crime. It’s a dangerous place for a couple of immigrants, but Ed and Al have always been good at toughing it out. However, dangers can lurk even in the most well-lit corners, and the shadows can hold some of the best friends they’ll ever meet.

Author: the-redheaded-potato Continuity: Brotherhood/Manga Length: 40k Pairings: Roy/Ed, Greed/Ling, Fuery/Havoc Rating: M (mature) Tags: aged-up character, mafia!au, mob boss Roy, trans Havoc, nb Breda, nb Envy, disability, officer Hughes, the homunculi are a rival gang, period-typical racism, tho I downsized it significantly, mentions of ableism Major warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

[luckkyy-buddha999-blog]

Part 2..Broken Promises, Broken Dreams

A Retiree's Crucible.

I became a client of Edward Jones Investments in 2006/07 as best as I can remember.

My life had changed dramatically in a financial sense, after a successful Civil Litigation.

I hired Edward Jones to manage my estate, and significant liquid assets ( Cash).. Having limited experience with planning for the future or how to manage my now rather robust bank accounts.. I needed professionals to guide me.

The Financial advisor was Frank E. ( I'm not sharing his full name )!

If any of my readers have had any experience with Edward Jones investments, they will know that the financial advisors who work for them are much like "Jehovah Witness", and the Mormons, they do a lot of door-knocking to get neighborhood clients..

If you're new to the retail investing, with a half a million dollars burning a hole in your pocket, then running into an" Edward Jones financial advisor," is like "Manna From Heaven", because they are so believable!

My relationship with Edward Jones and Frank E. Was all about " trust, trusting, and fiduciary responsibility"..

Edward Jones investments runs a tight ship.

I'm here to tell you, "they protect their clients"! . I really don't have anything negative to say about Edward Jones or Frank E.

I think it's important to note, all documents had a qualifier attached, that read " Investing comes with risk of loss of Investments" i. e. Cash$$$...🤔 LOL!

Yeah, I read this again in 2009 after the stock market crash of 08,

Needless to say, I was fully invested in 2008 for the tune of about 5-6 hundred thousand dollars, having obtained another 300k in a second Civil suit.

Edward Jones Investments had managed well over 600 grand by the time the Market Crashed..

Yes I got whacked pretty significantly, (100++k)lost in the crash..

I don't blame my financial advisors for my "Financial Losses"!

If you invest in the stock market, you have a chance of losing those funds.

Unfortunately, I lost 100, 000 plus dollars in a very fast way.. Just gone😭

I flew home from Thailand in 2009 to try and sort out my financial situation and plan for my continuing retirement plan ( Married and living in Thailand).

This is the part where "John Hancock Annuities" comes into the picture.

I was invited by Frank to meet with a John Hancock annuities representative.

John Hancock Annuities had a veritable annuity, that would fit my retirement plans.

My retail investing portfolio Edward Jones managed, was market based mutual funds and stand-alone stocks type of investments.

This is what the variable annuity was based on, this Market performance " Variable Annuity" was guaranteed interest of 7% over a certain time period.

This product had " Income for Life" Rider attached, and you could contribute to the annuity ( extra cash) also.

All in all, it seemed to be a fantastic opportunity for my retirement plan. My best laid plans, have at times failed to materialize..

I could at whatever point, after two years, annualize a contract over 20 years, take monthly payments.

Of course all of this comes with a price tag!

You can buy into a annuity typically, if you pay anywhere from 7% to 10% fee up front, sometimes more.

My Hancock variable annuity was priced initially at $100,000 with the option of adding more funds up to a certain period of time.

I purchase this veritable annuity, and I paid approximately $10,000 for it. I added another 80,000 US dollars, plus another 20 thousand in 2011/12

I decided to part company with Frank E. and Edward Jones 2011 / 2012. ( I'm risk-averse, I just didn't know it until the market crash)!

I was turning 62. I wanted to take my Social Security at it earliest legal availability, which was age 62.

I instructed Edward Jones to start the process for annualizing my 20-year payout from the annuity I had purchase in 2008, from John Hancock and that was managed by Edward Jones.

Frank set this up for me, he cobbled together different Financial products I was involved in, sold them off, and put the assets in the variable annuity, increasing the value in the 230k. territory..

We also managed to receive in the neighborhood of "30,000 US dollars in appreciation "for the annuity over the time I own it. (7% guaranteed interest based on market performance)

I made some money, so we added everything together an annualized this 20 year variable annuity

I had my Social Security direct deposit set up with Bangkok Bank public Company Limited here in Bangkok Thailand.

The routing of funds to a dedicated savings account was in place for my federal government Social Security benefits.

Frank, and John Hancock Annuities Service Centre, decided that since this route was already in place,

they would "piggyback" my funds directly into this account. ( obviously, Social Security had the correct IAT format, Federal Routing Numbers Beneficiary Bank, addresses of said bank, plus the recipients name, account number and Thailand address..

The above scenario is the correct format for International Direct deposits.

Basically, my best guess is " John Hancock Annuities Service Centre" did not have the correct IAT format, so they took the convenient way, using my Social Security to direct deposit funds in Bangkok Bank PCL Thailand, without using a dedicated account, which they should have done from the start!

They set this up without my input basically.

I had little personal input or participation.

Definitely had no idea that it was not the correct way to do things!

Unfortunately expediency, is the way things get done sometimes.

When you're no longer a client, you know it's like "let's get it done, and get it out of the way"!

I understand this thought process, and at the time, I was okay with it.

I didn't know any better!

Fast forward to 2017, Bangkok Thailand,.

Bank Public Company Limited main branch contacted me over these funds being piggyback, informing me me in no uncertain terms, I needed to change the " John Hancock Annuities Direct Deposit" to a dedicated savings account, not piggybacked with the Social Security DD.

I contacted John Hancock annuities service center.

They sent me ETF forms. I filled them out, and" DHL" back to them.

JHA change the account number, no problems, everything done!

So I thought!

That was 2017. This now 2019. Bangkok Bank has /is making changes on how we can do the routing.

They ( BBNY) have to follow United States government rules on Outward Bound money, meaning money wired from the United States, the government wants to know where it's going and who's receiving it!

"All banks,and every financial company that has a fiduciary responsibility knows about these federal laws! "

Retirees living in Thailand, ten thousand miles away, would not have any inkling of what's going on!

it's not my job, it's the job of John Hancock annuities!

Needless to say, I discussed in detail, part 1" Broken Promises, Broken Dreams"

how, International ACH transfers coming to Thailand via " Bangkok Bank branch of New York" to the main branch of Bangkok Bank public Company Limited Bangkok Thailand come with detailed information on the need to format " IAT and Federal Routing Numbers, along with pertinent beneficiary bank account and address and beneficiary personal name and residence address in Thailand.

It was by total accident I even came across this information.

One would think, a very large financial Products Company, like "John Hancock Annuities," the fiduciary in all of this, is provided information and detailed instructions, on how to comply with the new federal laws!

However, it was their client(Me) a seventy-year-old retiree, who had to notify them... Sad, but true!

A lot of this information is redundant that I'm talking about.

It's important to note, I have provided all the information that was provided to me by the beneficiary bank here in Bangkok.

I pass this information along to the headquarters of John Hancock annuities service center, and to the supervisors, ( Mr Wijaya & Richard Ambrosio) who control how funds leave John Hancock annuities.

I provided contact information detailing routing numbers and pertinent information.

ETF Forms for John Hancock Annuities were provided for me via email from my friend at Edward Jones ( Frank E.).

They (ETF Forms) were completed and sent directly to the headquarters of John Hancock Annuities Service Centre.

It's now the 12th of April, my payment was due on the 5th of April.

All the information that I've shared on this post, was provided to John Hancock annuities service center, prior to April 5th, to no avail.

I'm now facing credit defaults starting on April 14th.

Basically I'm in a bad way.

It's now the 22nd of April.

My April 5th payment arrived on the 17th.

I checked with" BBNY help desk" in regards to the format.. No answer yet if it's correct.

The "help desk" informed me that " John Hancock Annuities",wasn't the "Sender"... 🤔

So now I'm faced with the possibility of a" third party "being involved in my monthly annuities payment.

I'm assuming,"This third-party" is related to John Hancock in some form?

I hope so.

Having a few bad dreams about service fees being deducted from my annuity account..

A "third-party " Payment, might very well be coming out my funds.

Welcome to my Crucible.

luckkyy-buddha999

[glare-gryphon]

Yay! Because I've been wondering for a while - what if, after viewing the security recording, Obi-Wan had stuck to his guns and refused to fight Anakin? Maybe Yoda wasn't there to push it? And Obi-Wan runs, possibly after dropping by Padme's to warn her - and afterwards, Vaderkin focuses on hunting down Obi-Wan and Obi thinks it's to kill him, but no its because he wants Obi to marry him - he wants his Master back, to raise his kids since Padme died, and obi-Wan is HIS after all...

First of all, I have to throw a shoutout to @fireflyfish. Her fic After the End of the World is almost this exact prompt, minus the marriage part and + Fem!Obi. It’s a great fic, and you should definitely read it if you aren’t yet.

Without further ado…

Ring

Rating: T

Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Vader

Additional Tags: Post-Mustafar AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Vaderkin

~2500 Words

The cold of the spaceport is miserable, biting at his skin and sinking down into his bones. The few civilian clothes he’s managed to obtain in his years of wandering are better suited for warmer climates than the wet chill of this place. It always seems to be raining, here; when it isn’t, a heavy mist settles over the port in its place.

Another nameless spaceport on another nameless world, unimportant but for the fact that the Empire has been slow to reach it. No notable exports of desirable resources, there was no pressing need for Imperial presence. Ben has inhabited it for the past few months, making rent for a dingy apartment off under-the-table mechanical work. He is neither the best, nor the worst. Average and forgettable in the way of a man who does not want to be noticed.

It’s agonizingly dull work. Sometimes he imagines himself a bounty hunter, or a pirate, or a leader at the head of the growing Rebellion he sees discussed on the holo from time to time. Something more exciting than his life as it is now: an endless parade of broken parts and frayed wiring. Alas, this is not the life meant for him, now. Obi-Wan Kenobi cannot draw attention to himself if he wishes to live long enough to see the end of the Empire’s tyranny.

This is why he must move again, his belongings stowed in a small pack he crafted from the tattered remnants of his Jedi robe. Even after trading his tunics for a set of civilian clothes, he’d continued to wear the robe out of some lingering sentiment for the life he’d left behind. It was close enough to a standard traveling cloak that no one noticed the difference, and he’d kept it until the seams wore beyond repair. It’s been given a new life beyond its intended purpose, now. Just like its owner.

“Passenger Shuttle 239 now boarding in bay seven,” a robotic voice announces over the intercom system.

Ben rises from the waiting bench, swinging the pack over his shoulder and pulling out his identification documents for inspection. He’d traded the last of his credits for these papers, listing his name as Ben Lars. The forger had promised they’d pass the scrutiny of lazy dockworkers, but there are no lazy dockworkers here.

Instead there is an Imperial Officer in a sharp-cut olive uniform, flanked by two stormtroopers in their signature white armor. They stand out amongst the planet’s continual misty-grey atmosphere, drawing the eyes of passersby and reminding them of the Imperial presence that’s descended upon their unimportant little world. Ben had hoped to get out of here before they took full control of the ports; it seems he is just a few hours too late

Gritting his teeth, he steps into line. He doesn’t have another option now but to run the gauntlet and hope for the best. He can’t remain on this planet much longer. Heightened security around the ports has cost him his job, temporary housing for troops has cost him his room, and more Imperial eyes means more risk of getting caught.

The Gran ahead of him is waved past into the bay, and it is Ben’s turn to hand over his papers. His hands do not shake as he drops them into the officer’s expectant palm, but it is a close thing.

“Ben Lars,” the officer announces to no one in particular, his eyes flickering briefly between Ben and the attached photo before slipping his ID chip into a scanner. For a tense moment, nothing happens, and it feels as though Ben’s heart as frozen in his chest. As though his lungs cannot draw enough oxygen.

Then the scanner beeps, a pleasant chime, and the light along its surface glows green. The officer pulls the chip out, proceeding to then shove the chip and his papers into Ben’s chest. “Continue.”

Ben clutches the bundle to his chest, momentarily dazed by the realization that everything had worked. It’s only when one of the ‘troopers harshly shoves him, combined with a command to, “Move along,” do his legs remember how to move. They carry him on autopilot up the boarding ramp of the transport and into his seat. Only when he’s settled does he dare release a relieved sigh. He’s past the checkpoint; he’s on his way to a new planet. What could possibly go wrong now?

He isn’t sure when he dozed off, but Ben is woken when the transport shutters violently around him. He scrubs at bleary eyes, righting himself in his seat as other passengers to the same. They seem to have stopped moving, but they have not reached their destination. Outside the viewports is only the vast expanse of space.

“What’s going on?” He asks, turning to the passenger next to him, and receives only a disinterested shrug in return.

“Probably mechanical problems. These transports are always breaking down,” the Rodian grumbles.

Ben is just about to push himself to his feet, about to go and offer his help with whatever is holding up their trip, when the shriek of metal cuts through the ship. An emergency exit panel on the roof is ripped open, exposing them not to the vacuum of space, but some kind of boarding hatch. He already knows what’s about to happen before four pirate drop through the hole into the transport.

The insignias worn on their clothes are not any of those he is familiar with, but there are countless pirate crews roaming the hyperspace lanes of the Outer Rim. Those that he does know are constantly changing: alliances being made and broken, captains overthrown and crews killed in crossfire. Even Ben cannot keep up—especially now that he is without the Order’s resources.

The apparent leader, a Zygerian male, draws a large blaster from its holster at his hip and fires one shot at the Imperials who had scanned their documents at the gates, traveling with them and apparently attempting to play hero. The bolt cuts clean through one 'trooper’s armor, splattering gore across his compatriots and the cabin wall. Several passengers scream; the other Imps are cowed into inaction.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” the Pirate Captain announces as his three lackeys spread out through the transport. “You’re all going to give us your things, and if we like what you’ve got, we might just let you live. Anybody else tries anything funny, well…” He trails off them, tipping his head pointedly in the direction of the 'trooper’s corpse.

If Ben were anyone else, he might have been content with handing over his meager belongings and hoping for the best. He might have played the role of frightened passenger and hoped against hope that the pirates let them be at the end of this. Unfortunately for Ben, he is not anyone else. He is Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi, this is a transport full of defenseless civilians, and the familiar weight of his lightsaber’s hilt is suddenly heavy in his sleeve.

He has always valued the lives of others more than his own.

“Don’t be stupid,” the Rodian beside him says in an urgent whisper when Ben makes to rise to his feet. “You’re going to get us all killed!”

“No one else is going to die here,” Ben replies, pushing past him and stepping out into the aisle.

His movement draws the attention of the Captain, who turns to inspect him with a disdainful smirk. “What do we have here?” The Zygerian asks. “Do you have a problem, friend?”

Ben meets his eyes with a smirk of his own, sharp and dangerous in a way he hasn’t been since the Clone Wars. The thrill of combat settles into his skin like an old friend; stars, he’s missed this. “I’m going to give you until the count of ten, by which time I expect you and your men to be off this vessel and on your way,” he announces.

“Are you?” The Captain scoffs. “And if we aren’t? What do you think you’re going to do about it?”

He gestures with the blaster, a truly ungainly thing, in a way that is probably meant to be threatening. The effect, however, is lost on Ben. The weapon is too big and clunky for the close quarter of the cabin. Powerful, yes, but a misplaced shot could easily rip through the ship’s hull, killing the pirates as well as the passengers upon exposure to space’s vacuum. He needs a clear shot—a slow moving target—in order to fire.

Ben will give him neither of these things.

Between one heartbeat and the next, he draws his 'saber from his sleeve, igniting the hilt and relishing in the recognition that flashes in the Captain’s eyes. The fear. And while Ben slightly out of practice, his situation not allowing the time nor privacy to practice his forms to the full extent, he still has the upper hand over these pirates.

It is nothing to cut them down, shaken as they are by the appearance of a Jedi. Perhaps not the grand combat he’d hoped for, but better still than the monotony that has been his life for the last three years.  He stands over their bodies, barely breathing hard, and doesn’t even consider the repercussions of exposing himself until a blinding pain erupts in the back of his skull. He staggers, braces himself on a seat back, and gets a blurry glimpse of a terrified Imperial Offer before his legs give out and his vision goes black. For a long time, he knows no more.

The second time Ben wakes, it is to the sounds of conversation. He’s been moved, he realizes before he’s even pried his eyes open. There is cold metal beneath his cheek and his hands are now cuffed behind him. His head spins and aches from the earlier blow.

The dimensions of whatever room he’s in are small, a glance around revealing stacked boxes and a powered-down cleaning droid. Some kind of supply closet, then.

Bits and pieces of the conversation float through the door to his makeshift cell, heard but not fully understood. Ben is still too disoriented for that.

“—captured a Jedi aboard this passenger transport, while on route to—”

“—description you sent. Are you sure—”

“Yes, sir. Human male, red hair, blue eyes—”

Everything swims back into focus with the pronouncement of, “Bring him to me,” from an eerily familiar voice. Obi-Wan has not heard it since that last day, years ago.

It used to carry with it the associations of nights beneath the warmth a shared blanket, the chaos of war set aside for a few brief hours of comfort and rest; of days filled with sweat and strain, laughter ringing through the training halls as they try to pin each other to the mats; of feelings unacknowledged and words unspoken, lingering touches and furtive glances.

Now it only brings the bitter reminder of destruction and death.

The Officer from earlier, along with two new troopers, appear when they slide open the door to his closet. He vaguely recognizes the style of their helm, the blue paint: Anakin’s 501st. They are not gentle as they haul him to his feet, dragging him along when his legs refuse to cooperate. He is no longer the trusted General Kenobi to them; instead, another despised member of traitorous Jedi Order. Ben stares at the floor as they pull him down the transport’s center aisle, still too disoriented to put up a proper struggle. From what he can see from this angle, the rest if the passengers must have already departed.

They stop in front of a familiar black boots, and a gloved finger hooks under his chin to pull his unresisting head up.

Standing before him is Darth Vader, though this is no surprise. Ben can’t even work up the energy for a proper scowl and his former pupil scrutinizes him, the look on his face something between hunger and awe. “Hello, Obi-Wan,” he says breathlessly.

“'lo,” Ben slurs back, tongue clumsy. He definitely has a concussion.

Vader’s eyes narrow at the uncharacteristic greeting, using his free hand to comb through Ben’s hair in a gesture that’s familiar from their days at war. The hair at the back of his head is wet and matted; Vader’s fingers pull away coated with blood. “What happened?” The Sith demands, rounding on the Officer.

“W-we had to secure him somehow!” The man sputters, obviously startled by the Sith’s reaction. “I hit him with–”

He does not finish that sentence. With a jerk of Vader’s hand and swell of the Dark that turns Ben’s stomach, the Officer’s head twists, breaking with a sharp crack. His body tumbles lifelessly to the floor, and Ben frowns at it.

“Well, that was uncalled for,” he sighs, almost petulantly, and Vader’s attention returns to him. “Don’t see why it matters that he hit me, when you’re just going to kill me anyways.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Obi-Wan,” Vader says, stepping into his space. Ben strains weakly against the hold on him, tries to pull away from the hands that cup gently his face. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

This, Ben knows. It is the reason he had stayed in hiding: from the Imperials, the Rebels, and the remnants of the Jedi alike. With Vader’s dogged pursuit looming over him, he would have been a danger to everyone around him. But if Vader truly doesn’t wish to kill him, then—

“Why?”

The Sith’s smile is pitying. Ben hates it. “You know why, Obi-Wan,” he says, and Ben shakes his head in denial.

“No, I don’t.”

Vader is so close to him now, his breath ghosting across Ben’s face, nose brushing against his. If he weren’t being held up by the clones, he imagines he legs would be weak. This moment, this intimacy, is everything he once wanted. He’s disgusted to find that a part of him still wants it.

“Don’t lie to yourself. I know what you feel for me; I feel it, too. I need you as much as you need me.” He reaches into a pocket of his utility belt, producing from it something that looks suspiciously like—

A ring. It’s a simple thing: a wide, gold band, likely hand-crafted by Vader himself. Ben stares at it as though it is a poisonous viper. He’d had fantasies about a ring since he found out the truth of Anakin’s marriage, but they never went anything like this.

“You are going to be mine, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Vader breathes into his ear, clones holding him still while he slides the band onto Ben’s finger. Then the Sith is pressing his lips hungrily to Ben’s own to seal a promise the elder never made.

He suddenly can’t help but mourn those monotonous days at port.

#Gryph Fic #Obikin #Vaderwan #kitsunesongs

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Cassian Andor x OFC Chapter 2

Relationship: Cassian Andor/Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Tags: Pre-Rogue One, Romance, Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Foul Language

Read on AO3: Starlight

Summary: Cora is a doctor on an Imperial class Star Destroyer when a wounded rebel barges into the med bay. Having wanted to leave the Empire for a while now, she decides to save his life in exchange for a lift out of there.

Author’s note: English is not my native language, so there may be some mistakes that either I or my lovely beta @hostoyevsky might have missed. Any feedback is much appreciated, any questions you may have, I will be glad to answer. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Cora woke up with a pounding headache and the sinking feeling that something bad was about to happen. She tentatively opened her eyes but her vision was blurry and her head was spinning, so she couldn’t identify her surroundings. She was surprised and a little frightened to find out that her arms felt like they had been tied together and she wasn’t able to move them. What the fuck, she thought, not remembering what had happened.

“Corinthia Enoch,” she heard a strangely familiar voice say in a mildly annoying accent. Why did it annoy her?

She made a conscious effort to focus on what was going on in front of her, which only intensified her headache so she held her eyes shut for a few moments, hoping she wouldn’t vomit. Once her head stopped spinning and her vision cleared, the reality of what she had gotten herself into hit her like a freight train. She had betrayed the Empire, left her old life behind and ran away with a sketchy dude. If only this was a romance so they would write books based on her life. But no, this was a very unpleasant comedy.

“That’s my name,” she replied and her voice sounded coarse and distant. She pulled on her hands trying to free herself but found out they were tied to a metal bar. The zip tie that was fastened around her wrists looked sturdy and was so tight that she had no hope to just wiggle free. She sighed and mentally hit herself over the head.

“A quite terrifying name,” he spoke, and Cora could feel the hate in his voice. “The whole galaxy knows it.”

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s not me they fear,” she said, looking him in the eye.

He was standing near the command post, his back turned to the controls, the black droid peeking over his shoulder. She noticed he had changed out of the imperial uniform and was now wearing a tan shirt and brown pants. How long had she been out if he had time to change? Also, what the fuck was he doing with an imperial droid? Was he a spy for the Empire, pretending to be a rebel just to see who would betray? Cora’s blood froze for a second. No, she said to herself. His wound was real. No one would put that much effort in staging this just so they could get to her.

“Is it so?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Aren’t you the daughter of Admiral Alastor Enoch, one of the most ruthless imperial dogs, commander of the star destroyer Corinthia?” He took a step closer, but still kept a safe distance, like Cora could pull out a blaster out of her ass at any time and shoot him.

“You’re talking to me about my father, but you’re not telling me what I’ve done wrong. Last time I’ve checked, I was nice enough to save your life. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you nothing,” he hissed.

“Really? Cause I remember you almost bleeding to death on the infirmary floor!” she yelled, losing her temper. “And don’t think for a second that you would have made it to your ship without my help, you ungrateful bastard!”

“Is that true, Cassian?” the droid asked him, throwing him what Cora supposed was an inquisitive look. She could never guess what the droids were thinking.

“Not now.”

“Oh, so your name is Cassian. Nice to meet you Cassian. Actually, I deeply regret meeting you Cassian. Go fuck yourself.” Oh she was bitter. So bitter that the only thing she wanted was to connect her boot with his face repeatedly until she felt satisfied. She actually considered lunging at him and trying her luck, even if that meant breaking both her wrists. Unfortunately, he was keeping a safe distance from her.

“Listen,” she continued, this time trying to keep her anger in check. “I’m just a medic. Not even a combat medic, I only see the fight if someone attacks the ship, and even if that happens I just wait for it to end since medical personnel don’t have weapons and aren’t expected to fight. Don’t make me the target of your rage.”

“You did have a blaster when you came in here,” the droid let her know.

“That is my personal weapon, it’s only meant for emergencies.”

“I wonder how much Admiral Enoch would pay to get his daughter back,” Cassian said, his eyes still burning with controlled rage.

“Admiral Enoch doesn’t give a shit about his daughter, I assure you. He never did, and never will. As for the Empire, I was dead for them the moment I left that star destroyer. They’ll never make an effort to get one of their doctors back, we’re disposable.” Fear was starting to creep on her. If he decided to try to sell her back to the Empire they would both be dead in no time. “Are you a bounty hunter?” There was also the chance that he would want to sell her on the black markets. With so many enemies of the Empire a lot of people would be glad to get their hands on an admiral’s daughter. Cora was frightened of what they would do if they succeeded.  

“And if I am?” he grinned and Cora hated him a little more.

“Well, then we could negotiate.” She responded to his grin with a grimace.

“You arrogant imperial scum. Thinking you can buy your way out of everything.” He took a few steps closer and was now looking down on her. Cora fought the urge to try and heatbutt him.

“My life is all I have,” she pleaded in the end. “I’m no one in this war you are fighting. I’m just doing my job, surviving, like everyone else. I’ve never killed anyone, it’s not my fault that my father is an admiral or that he named a warship after me. I just want to live a normal life away from it all. Please, just let me go.”

He looked her in the eye like he was trying to read something in her gaze. “It’s not my place to judge. The Alliance will have to decide what’s going to happen to you.” He turned around and got back to the control panel.

“Wait! You’re taking me to the Rebellion?” she yelled, with renewed fear. If the Empire would execute her in the blink of an eye, the Rebellion wouldn’t waste that much time either.

“Yes,” was the only thing he said as he sat in the pilot’s chair.

“But you made a deal with me,” she pleaded again, “that you’d drop me off someplace safe.” Her voice was weak as she was losing hope.

“I never said that.” He turned around and looked at her. “I said I’d get you out of there, and I’ve kept my end of the bargain. I never said I’d let you go.”

Whatever remained of Cora’s heart just sunk to the depths of hell. She hated herself for being so naive and thinking someone was actually going to care about her once in her life. The world wasn’t made of daisies and she was all alone.

“And I was stupid enough to actually think you could be nice,” she said to herself.

“Yes you were,” came the droid’s reply.

“Thanks.”

*

The planet they landed on was covered in rainforests from what she could see. She had never been to the jungle before so she was surprised how humid the air was and how difficult to breathe. The fact that she had lived most of her life on spaceships with controlled climate didn’t make it any easier. She started to sweat uncontrollably the moment she got off the ship.

The base was a huge stone structure that may or may not have been a temple a long time ago. Cora couldn’t identify it. She had never paid too much attention in history classes and was starting to regret it. At least she could have guessed the name of the planet that will be her final resting place.

Cassian, who had replaced the zip tie around her wrists with a pair of handcuffs, was now walking behind her, pointing a blaster at her back. Cora did her best to keep her head up high and her vision unfocused as she walked through the Rebel base, avoiding as many stares as she could. She was sure they hadn’t publicly announced she was coming, but even so they could see the imperial crest embroidered on her uniform and wonder who she was. An Imperial prisoner brought to base. Cora had never felt so humiliated in her life.

They entered the hangar that seemed to occupy most of the base level, took an elevator up and walked through a few corridors until they reached a rather large room where some important looking people had gathered. Cora’s heart was beating so fast it was threatening to break out of her rib cage, but she did her best to appear unfazed. She felt like a little girl taken to trial for crimes she hadn’t committed, and the judges didn’t seem friendly.

There were a few people she noticed first: a red haired woman dressed in a long robe and a grumpy dude with a huge forehead, that were standing out in the crowd. Cora stopped in front of them, trying to gather what was left of her composure.

“You must be Corinthia Enoch, daughter of Admiral Alastor Enoch, am I right?” the red haired woman addressed her. Cora nodded but didn’t say a word. “My name is Mon Mothma and I am the leader of the Alliance.”

“Pleasure,” she replied in a monotone voice.

“We have been informed that you have willingly betrayed the Empire,” she continued. “Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re asking me why I ran away from the Empire? You’re the ones fighting against it, you know full well what it can do,” Cora spat at her. “Is it so surprising that I wanted to leave?” She knew she should stay humble, but her anger was getting the best of her.

“It is surprising that a daughter of a well known imperial officer has left the Empire, yes. It makes us question the sincerity of this act.”

“Listen… ma’am. I’m a doctor.” She tried changing her tone to a softer one. “The only reason I’m a military doctor is because my whole family has been in the army for generations, and it was somewhat expected of me to do the same. I’ve never done anything for the Empire other than heal people. It just happens that I ended up seeing the cruelty they can show and I no longer want to be a part of it.”

“She’s a spy they’ve sent to infiltrate the Alliance,” the human frown finally spoke and Cora felt like she already hated him. Which she probably did. Along with everyone else in that room.

“I’m a doctor and I don’t give a shit about your Alliance,” Cora barked at him. “Ma’am, the only thing I wanted was to get out of there, get to a remote, safe place where no one knew me and herd goats for the rest of my life. Peaceful, quiet life. So please, just let me go.” The frown snorted.

“I am sorry, but we can’t do that,” the woman replied. “As general Draven said, you may be a spy and we can’t risk you disclosing the location of our base to our enemies.” The woman was looking down on her and Cora felt like she was losing it.

“I’m not a spy! Please stop saying that. And I have absolutely no idea where this fucking base is.” She took a deep breath. “None of this would have happened if this asshole,” she pointed both of her indexes towards Cassian’s nose, since her hands were bound together, “had kept his word!”

“That man is a Captain in the intelligence department,” the frown yelled at her. “Show some respect.”

“Oh, my sincerest apologies,” Cora replied in a mocking tone. She took a deep breath and regained her composure. “If Captain Asshole had kept his promise and dropped me on a safe planet I wouldn’t be here right now.” She threw him a death glare before she continued. “I never wanted anything to do with you and your war. I just wanted to be away from it all.”

“However,” the woman continued completely ignoring Cora’s outburst, “you could convince us that you aren’t a spy, and if you do, you’d be free to go.”

“And how can I possibly do that?” she asked suddenly paying attention. Maybe she had a chance after all.

“You could prove your loyalty to us by sharing with us some of your inside knowledge of the Empire.”

“I doubt any of my knowledge would be of any interest, but if you want to organize your med bay, I will gladly help you.” She smiled, but it was forced. She was pretty sure this wasn’t what they meant, but she played stupid. A part of her had hoped some of the rebel’s dumb luck had rubbed off on her.

“I didn’t mean your medical knowledge, Corinthia,” the woman said, giving her a stern look.

“You want information about my father.” Cora looked down at her hands and cursed the day when she met that stupid rebel. She had a decent life that permitted her to keep her eyes shut to what was going on in the world. Had her conscience been a little more sleepy, she could have lived her whole life in blissful ignorance. But she knew she couldn’t have done that. Sometimes when she slept she could see the dead from Cheyne 3.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have any information about my father, or his work, that you might find relevant. Most of what I know is already public knowledge and the rest are just childhood memories.” Cora’s voice was monotone, all the anger having dissipated. “You’d be surprised to find out that you may know more than me about him.”

“When was the last time you saw your father?” General forehead had taken over the interrogation.

“About six months ago. We had tea. And no, before you ask, he never talks about his work with me. I don’t have the necessary clearance to know any imperial business.” She smiled, but it was more of a grimace.

“Do you know his whereabouts?” he continued, same frown on his face.

“Nope. I never do. He is the one that comes to visit me, once in a blue moon.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but it sounded sad to her own ears. “I guess he’s on ISD Corinthia, somewhere in space.” She smiled that dumb smile again to hide her discomfort.

“But you do have a way of contacting him.”

It wasn’t a question, and Cora felt a bitter taste in her mouth. She knew that they would try to use her to get to her father, after all, she was only valuable because of him, but she hoped it would be later than sooner. Now she was afraid. How long will she be able to take torture before she’ll give up and tell them everything? Even if it wasn’t much, she had been honest when she told them she didn’t know anything about his work, but the little things she knew were valuable to her. Her father had done terrible things, she was aware of that, but even if she hated him sometimes for what he represented, he was still her father.

“I’m not gonna betray him.”

“You know full well who he is and you chose to cover for him?”

“He’s my father, general,” she said, looking him in the eye. “Not the best father in the world, not the most present. I know he wouldn’t lift a finger to get me out of here, but you know what, he’s still my father. I know one day this war will get him killed, I’ve accepted that a long time ago, but I’m not gonna be the one that pulls the trigger.”

They were all silent for a moment and Cora felt the overwhelming sensation of everyone looking at her and judging her. Finally Mon Mothma was the one that spoke. Cora was curious what her sentence would be.

“You refuse to give us the information we ask for, even if doing so would win your freedom, Doctor Corinthia Enoch?”

“Yes,” she replied, and her voice echoed through the room, surprising even herself with how resolute it sounded.

“Very well. Take her to her cell.”

Two armed guards grabbed her and guided her out of the room. On her way out she took a moment to shoot another death glare towards Cassian. He looked mildly bored. The nerve.

#cassian andor #cassian andor x ofc #cassian andor x original female character #rogue one #rogue one fanfiction #fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction

[notesfromaprovince]

My Afternoon With Beezer

In 1971 I am a recent college graduate with an impractical BA in anthropology. Reluctantly I realize it is time for me to stride out into the real world and seize the day, to be of use, fulfill my destiny and all the other clichés commencement speakers past and present roll out for the inattentive. I say reluctantly because I had just gotten the hang of surviving at the place and now I had to leave. After nearly starving to death as an undergraduate the thought of grad school was less than a distant option. I’d worked on the student newspaper, so newspaper work might hold some promise. One of my reporters, who amusingly referred to me as chief, though I’m not sure if he meant it in a Perry White/Jimmy Olsen jest or real affection, had family ties to the NY Daily News. I was sure I could tag along with him for a job. But I had gotten very tired of New York City where I had attended college. I had gone there mostly to escape my small hometown. Now I was thinking it might be better to return there, enjoy a Lake George summer, then seize the day and fulfill my destiny etc. In uncertain times my post-collegiate self stuck to the collegiate self’s belief that frolicking first always served to clear the mind prior to more important endeavors.

When I returned home, my old friend Jeff Van Wert, approached me with a marvelous proposition; would I join him tending bar at Charlie Burgie’s Cave in Hague? This was too good to be true. While every resort town in the northeast was fertile ground for the recently graduated and directionless, I was going to spend my summer at, to my knowledge, one of the best summer long parties in the Northeast. Not only that, but I would be officiating the festivities from behind the bar of party central. The Cave. There were other institutions like the Dock n’ Dine, the Indian Kettles, Spearman’s and the Burleigh House in Ticonderoga, but the party always started and began to wind down at the Cave. There was a status to this job.  I would follow in the footsteps of some of the local greats like Butch Gunning. You couldn’t make up a name like that for a champion high school football quarterback cum bartender, and his side kick Jimmy Frazier. These were legendary, rough and ready purveyors of the great Northern Lake George Party and I was asked and honored to be one of them. So this is where my post-graduate work would be done. I couldn’t start too soon. A true frolic first.

For the most part, it was as wonderful as I had imagined, from behind that bar old friendships where rekindled and new friendships were cultivated. Business was so good that after 9PM we were instructed to leave the till open so our sale of alcohol wouldn’t be slowed down by the actual ringing up of each sale. Charlie Burgie had a figure in mind on what constituted a good night and we never disappointed him. We were Charlie’s Boys and he trusted us. We ran a great party. For the most part we could spot fights well before they happened and move them out before they erupted. Each evening’s till was evidence of our proficiency. No fights meant more business and more money. While Butch and Jimmy had enjoyed the occasional scuffle, diving into the fray fists flying, most of our crew realized it was dangerous and costly. Charlie noticed and there wasn’t much we could do wrong.

We boys worked the evenings and some afternoons. Topsy, was the dayside bartender. How did she get her name? Well, she was tops. She was an older woman who had some mileage on her and there seemed to be little that surprised her about events in the bar. She ran a tight ship on the dayside and didn’t put up with much from her patrons. They knew if they got on her wrong side she could shut them off or worse, tell Charlie. Charlie was a big man with a reputation to match his size. By the time I worked for him he was an older man yet still feared.  At the shift change Charlie would join her for a scotch and soda. It was all part of the shift change ritual for the early evening crew. Topsy would remind us of what needed restocking and what we had missed the evening before. Charlie would listen quietly yet keeping an eye on us. We always apologized and vowed it wouldn’t happen again and Charlie would be pleased that his boys were attentive and polite. She took one day and an afternoon off each week. The afternoon off was to get her hair done. We all took turns covering for her and we met and learned about a completely different clientele on those days that she was absent.

Many of the names of those I served in the early afternoons and mornings when I opened up for Topsy I’ve forgotten.  Most of them were hard workingmen with a taste for alcohol and companionship. Others were vacationers looking for a respite from bickering and bored families on rainy days or urban dwellers hiding from the endless onslaught of rural scenery. You might say they suffered from bucolic colic. Hard to imagine but true. Having a smart-assed college kid behind the bar was a test of what those people could tolerate, but for both of us it was just for a day or an afternoon a week and we learned not to get in each other’s way, most of the time.

There were some who were pleasant and friendly like Billy May who had a slight speech impediment that became worse as he drank. I realized I had worked at the Cave too long when I was able to interpret to others Billy’s utterances when he was completely intoxicated. “What did he say?” He said if you couldn’t walk; drive and God help us all.

Then there where those who were interesting and witty like Petey Waters, the poet laureate of Hague. One evening he stayed past the afternoon/evening changeover of grizzled old timers to the young crowd. He was holding the pool table and though well past any point of sobriety, he continued to hold the table well into the evening. A young man challenged him; Peter retired to the bathroom and upon his return, picked up his pool queue and surveyed the table. His challenger’s girlfriend shouted to him, “Petey, your fly is down.” Peter slowly and carefully looked down at himself, looked up at the young lady with kindly eyes and said, “Don’t worry dear, what can’t get up, can’t get out.”

Finally there was Beezer Hall, a born half-wit schemer. What made Beezer tolerable was that he was witless. If he had any brains at all, he would have been almost dangerous and extremely unlikable. But being who he was, he could be just irritating at his worst. And if you didn’t have to do business with him, he could be down right amusing. Take for example his selling of raffle tickets in the bar for a pony. None of the people he approached with the ticket offer had any means to care for a pony, but if they won he would gladly keep it for them for a price. He didn’t have any takers and anyway it really wasn’t his pony. He had been caring for the animal for someone else and if it had worked out right, no one would have been the wiser.

Beezer had an old dump truck and picked up garbage mostly for the summer residents who had the means to pay him and didn’t particularly enjoy the weekly trip to the dump. While they missed the social and hunting opportunities that could arise from a weekly visit like that, they were able to avoid rubbing shoulders with whoever or whatever.  He made enough to get by and went on unemployment over the winter months because most year round residents’ their only contact with their neighbors and friends was at the dump. Who needed Beezer? One rainy afternoon Beezer complained to any one in the bar who would listen, that he might lose his sole source of income. Because of the nonexistence of any tread on his truck tires, legally he would not be able to operate it on public roads and therefore not be able to pick-up any one’s garbage. Beezer made his presentation with all the tragedy and foreboding he could muster. If you didn’t know Beezer for the schemer that he was, and you where facing the imminent conclusion of your trash removal service, you might be concerned. Especially if going to the dump was not a highlight of your vacation experience. One concerned summer resident, partially in the spirit of noblesse oblige but mostly out of self-interest, gave Beezer the money for a new set of tires. It was given on the condition that the donor receive free garbage pick-up for the rest of the year. Beezer gladly took the money with much gratitude. He left and went up to the dump and surprisingly found a passable free set of tires that afternoon. He had them mounted on his truck, passed inspection and to his credit had enough time to come back to the bar and buy a round of drinks before dinnertime. Unfortunately, Beezer didn’t notice that his benefactor was still in the bar. The man rolled his eyes, looked down the bar at Beezer and said, “That’s free pick up for life, right Beezer?”

The instance of Beezer picking up the tab for a round of drinks was notable because Beezer was a man who longed for and diligently sought out the free drink. For me he was at his most irritating when trying to get a free drink out of me. In most cases I would have bought back by the third or fourth drink anyway, but he needed to cheat me out of it. He needed to get the best of me. So he would put his money on the bar and order a small draft, then a shot of Imperial whiskey, then a bottle of Genesee beer, then maybe a draft mug, then a shot of Wilson’s whiskey a shelf down from the Imperial. Then I would watch him start counting his change. He’d look up and accuse me of short changing him. At first, assuming I had miscounted; I would buy back whatever he had last ordered. And at first he accepted that. But then he got bolder and would be looking for something better than just a draft or a well whisky on the premise that had I knowingly tried to cheat him. That’s when I started to pay attention because he never left a tip anyway. And when he’d challenge me, I’d go through all the transactions, one by one counting out all his change and he would nod his head, purse his witless lips and say, “guess you’re right. You gonna buy me back a drink anyway?”

“No!”

All this time Beezer sat at the bar with his hands spread out revealing letters crudely tattooed on his fingers. On a slow rainy afternoon with nothing better to do than to keep track of Beezer’s random and convoluted drink transactions, a young college educated bartender might become curious about what those letters signified. But if he was as tired as I was about Beezer’s shenanigans he might be too proud to ask and think he was smart enough to figure it out for himself. And so I spent most of a summer doing just that. At first I thought it must be RIGHT and LEFT because the man could be so witless. Or may be LOVE and HATE like the tattoos on Robert Mitchum’s fingers in The Night of the Hunter. But on close examination neither was the case. For the life of me, I could not figure out what those letters meant and the other bartenders either didn’t care or were like me and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking.

Finally one cool afternoon in September when I realized that Beezer’s and my time together was growing shorter, I broke down and asked him. It was painful. Beezer looked up at me with what could almost be called a beatific smile as if to say, “What took you so long?” Thinking back I began to believe that he had been taunting me all along with those indecipherable digits. Sitting at the bar with both of his hands, heel down, the fingers slightly curled and placed on either side of his drink like pieces on a chess table. I took a deep breath and realized that this was not going to be pleasant and he began.

“Well, you know I was in WW two?”

“Yes, many times you’ve regaled me with your exploits as the great liberator of France.”

“Yup, and them Frenchys loved us. We where the great Lib-er-a-tors. Those Frenchy girls could not get enough of us.”  I looked at the old fool and tried to imagine how desperate or joyful a young French woman would have been to find him desirable. He continued, “You would go to them little cafes and sit real close at the little tables on the sidewalk playing kneesy kneesy under the table. You’d look into her eyes and then you join your hands together like this.”

I looked down at his hands, with his fingers intertwined, the letters spelled out LETSFUCK. It took a moment to digest the solution of this summer long mystery, I looked up at him and said, “But Beezer, it’s in English.”

“Goddamned college kid, think your so fuckin’ smart.” And he left the bar.

My summer was over and it was time to find something useful to do. I found a job as an apprentice proofreader in Worchester Massachusetts. I was a college graduate and I could read. I was qualified and at first I didn’t think it involved alcohol. See any typos?