#but no that speech took him twelve years actually!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sassylegshayne · 1 year

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simp notes

this is a bonus chapter for 'support your local caffeine dealer'

okay that being said AHHHHH!!!!! I've had this written for so long and ik chapter three of mmi is taking a bit so I wanted to post this now!! I love it, it's a peak into their relationship past the fic w lots of introspection from shayne, it's adorable! 2.8 words! enjoy xx mwah 💓

series masterlist

Shayne woke up much earlier than he planned to, so he found himself sat in silence at your shared dining table, staring at his mug of coffee. He unintentionally mirrored your actions in the exact moment that brought him to this point today.

The start of your relationship was a bit rocky, filled with pining and misunderstandings, but Shayne wouldn't change a thing about it.

Four and a half years, one shared apartment, and two cats later, everything felt right. Not perfect yet, but close. Your lives meshed together perfectly in every little way he never imagined it would.

You had similar food tastes, but neither of you liked the other person's favorite snacks or cereals, so no arguments about stealing. You like opposing chores, making it easily to share the weight. You showered at night, him in the morning. You liked the same books, so you shared your libraries now.

You'd been promoted recently, the position allowing a bit more flexibility with your schedule; so you and Shayne often woke up together in the morning and arrived around the same time at night.

The welcome addition of you to his friend group even meant that making plans was extremely easy. Shayne was also immensely thankful to have you with him at pretty much ever group outting.

He felt like you two knew every small thing about each other, so the secret he was keeping weighed heavy. For three months and twelve days he has been keeping the biggest secret from you, and everyone else.

The small velvet box sat in the bottom drawer of your dresser, stuffed between a pair of jeans that were actually too short for Shayne and a pair of Halloween themed sweatpants that matched a pair of your own. He could find it blindfolded at this point with how often he took it from it's spot, almost four times a day, contemplating when it would be the right time. It didn't feel right until earlier in the morning.

Just at 7:39AM, Shayne shot out of his sleep, his heart fluttering as he glanced over his shoulder, finding you softly snoring. His alarm hadn't gone off yet, the two of you didn't need to be up until around ten.

You had the day off and Shayne only had one shoot on his schedule, one you were going to be apart of.

You had been in a couple of shoots in the few years since your relationship had been known to the internet. Some fans had recognized you from the crew and casts personal accounts, especially Kimmy and Damien's.

You were very well received in your first appearance at Shayne's graduation, your speech bringing him and most of your friends to tears. After that you had been brought into an 'Eat It Or Yeet It" video, getting your first chance to witness your boyfriend's grave mouth first hand. After all of the love for you came in, you appeared on a Board AF' episode and began making memes for 'Who Meme'd It?'

You kept your privacy and boundaries still, your social medias were all still set to private, making it clear that you'd appear on occasions, but wouldn't join.

Shayne was fully supportive when you told him this after he mentioned the idea of you coming in for a video. You loved your job, having moved up into management of the shop, the promotion coming as a huge surprise to you, but not to Shayne.

Today you and Shayne were do on set at 2PM, shooting another TNTL episode, as per request of the other's lined up in the shoot. Damien and Courtney were quick to shoot Kimmy the idea, which wasn't hard to greenlight when the producer was your best friend. The easy part was over, convincing you was much more difficult. It tooka lot of coaxing from your friends, but Shayne remained neutral. It almost pissed you off that each time you asked him for advice on whether or not you should do it, he'd say it's up to you. Shayne couldn't help it, he still finds himself not wanting to push you too far, he still wants to protect you from anything he can. Most fans loved you, but what if it stops? He was still in shock of how much everyone seemed to like you. His heart couldn't help but flutter with pride and joy each time he read a comment that spoke highly of you.

It couldn't compare to the love Shayne has for you. He writes every small, tender thought he has about you down in his phone. He isn't sure when they started now, but it was definitely before you had started dating.

He started off using it to get things off of his chest, to write down the words of admiration that he wished he could tell you. Overtime it'd had begun to be every thought he'd had about you.

"I told the stars about you"

"you're the only one want to wake up next to"

"I wonder what goes through your mind when someone says my name"

Damien and Spencer have heard almost all of them, extremely supportive of him, always quick to call it sweet. That's then followed with different ways to call Shayne a simp. It turned into a joke between them, dubbing them Shayne's Simp Notes.

Gears were turning as Shayne shuffled from your bed quietly, grabbing his phone from the night stand before wandering into the living area, brewing coffee.

He took a deep breath, unlocking his phone as he finished replaying his morning in his head before noting the time. 8:17AM is when the perfect idea strikes, apparently.

Shayne was quick to open the notes app and begin writing out everything. He's loosely planned sketches for the show before but this was much bigger, he wrote out every detail to make sure it'd go right.

After about an hour of nonstop writing with Shayne's eyes glued to his screen, his coffee long gone cold, your yawn echos down the hall.

A smile stretches across his face as he finishes his last line, closing out of the app before setting his phone on the tabletop. You enter the room rubbing your eyes as yOu mile softly at Shayne. His ASU shirt covered your top half, an old pair of gym shorts covered your bottom.

Without a word, you made your way over to Shayne's lap, straddling him as you rest your head on his shoulder while he rubs your back gently.

The two of you tend to lay in bed together and cuddle if you're up before your alarms, enjoying the peace of being together before beginning your respective days. On the off days where that doesn't happen, you tend to make up for that lost time whenever you can, like right now.

"Ditch me on my day off, I see how it is." You chuckled as you sat up, rubbing your fingers lightly through Shayne's hair as he groaned playfully.

"I'm sorry, you're just dating an absolute genius, and I had a breakthrough, baby." Shayne laughed softly as you rolled your eyes; he moved to cup your cheeks pressing his lips to yours softly.

The two of you sat there for a bit longer, chatting until your alarms rang in your distant bedroom. You sullenly removed yourself from Shayne's lap, snagging his mug of coffee before disappearing down the same halway you'd wandered out of earlier.

"Ew, Shayne this is so old! How long have you been up?!" You shouted as your turned off the ringing, prompting a laugh from Shayne.

He makes sure to bring you a fresh mug, prepared just how you like as you're busy getting ready later. Your heart swelled at the small action.

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary from Shayne, he loved using small, subtle ways to show his affection. You always had fresh flowers from the very beginning of your relationship, sometimes you'd have more than one bouquet at a time. He's been a big fan of ordering things to you while he's away, off on shoots or even while hest at work.

He once ordered groceries to your apartment and video called you to cook together when he was on a trip to visit his parents.

You adored him so much. This relationship had far exceeded what you thought it could be, and you couldn't be happier. You're heart swells at just the thought of your boyfriend and everything he means to you.

The two of you arrived on set a bit early, giving you time to mingle with everyone. You were quick to dart from Shayne, heading toward Kimmy and Courtney across the room.

Shayne stood off to the side, staring at his phone screen once more. He felt like he was gonna scream, throw up, and cry all at once. He just needed to get through this. It's just an episode with his friends, he's gonna tell jokes and do his characters, his girlfriends gonna be there, it's gonna be amazing.

The box sat heavy on his thigh in the front pocket of his jeans, the outline barely concealed by the flannel he had buttoned over his white tee in an attempt to hide it.

Shayne eyed Kimmy, chewing his lip as she finally departed from her conversation with you. He was quick to grab her, requesting something weird of her. He needed you to go last, this wasn't something he wanted to have as the opening bit.

He kept the reasoning to himself, and Kimmy didn't seem too concerned about it so she happily agreed.

Once the others had arrived, Noah only setting the shoot back half an hour, they began rolling. You did great, getting Damien out quickly with an inside joke the three of you had shared after a trip to Universal one night.

Shayne was so nervous he found himself laughing his way through his joke, which eventually got Damien after it had become evident that Shayne wouldn't be able to stop his laughter.

His nerves had settled a bit, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, small kissed placed on your forehead between your bits, hidden by the divider.

You grinned as the end of the video neared, you being called to the yellow stool last. You filled your mouth with water and gave a thumbs up as you heard rustling from behind the divider.

"Okay, this isn't my turn but just wanna do this real quick" Shayne called out, peering around the corner as you shrugged.

After a few seconds, a toy crow flew over the clothing rack as Shayne belted out a purposefully bad impression of Train. You spewed instantly as cackling sounded from your boyfriend.

"I hate you!" You called out as you refilled your mouth, shaking your head.

"No, you don't." He called back, laughing.

The others' bits flew by as Shayne stood behind the divider, his wig and phone clutched tightly in his hands as he took deep breaths.

Shayne told you to close your eyes as he pulled on the curly, bob wig from a character of his.

You had a hate/love relationship of Shayne's simp character, Sir Phillip Simpne, so he felt it was right for this occasion. He had his phone hidden behind an open book as he moved to stand beside you on the stool. He cleared his throat, offering you a smile as your opened your eyes.

You groaned, keeping your mouth shut as you shook your head, determined to hold it over Shayne that he couldn't make you laugh with this bit.

"I haven't a poem for you today, m'lady," Shayne begun, trying his best not to laugh as you stared at him blankly. "I offer you something better. I bring love notes that I have written about the fair maiden before me today."

Shayne's palms felt sweaty as he looked down at his phone, deciding to drop the accent as he read to you, the giggles from others were silent to him.

"l'm gonna start from the beginning, kind of," He smiled, nodding as he looked up at you, removing the wig. "I wrote 'I never planned to like you this much and never planned to think about you this often' right before we started dating."

Shayne couldn't look at you as he felt tears prickle at his eyes, his throat running dry as he knew he'd run out of time.

Nobody in the room was counting anymore. Once Shayne had gotten more serious, the air in the room shifted and everyone grew quiet.

You sat in the chair, head tilted in confusion when Shayne had dropped the character, the game leaving your mind all together as you tried to process what was happening.

"Uh, 'I wonder if we ever think about each other at the same time.'" He kept his eyes on his phone, a bit scared to meet your eyes. You stared at him in perplexion.

"Okay, on my birthday I wrote 'of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you', then the next day wrote 'there's been a place for you in my heart since we first met.'" Shayne sniffled, looking to you with teary eyes, chuckling a bit.

You took in his appearance with your brows furrowed, his cheeks were bright red, his blue eyes glistening.

"So, yeah, those are some of my Simp Notes." Shayne spoke softly as he caught sight of you laughing, some water dribbling from your lips.

You stood from the stool, taking a few steps away as you swallowed, wiping your mouth. You were still clueless as to what exactly was happening, but the name had caught you off guard and made you laugh.

Shayne felt like time slowed down, everything was going too perfectly as he removed the box from his pocket, your back still to him as you laughed.

He found himself grateful for your unwillingness to laugh at him, you allowed him to tell you some of the things he hadn't been able to before.

The energy had come back to the room, everyone laughing as soon as you broke, the assumptions previously made now leaving everyone's mind until Shayne drops to one knee.

A few gasps are heard as you turn back toward Shayne. small shriek leaves you as your eyes widden quickly at the sight.

You two had talked about marriage before, and you both wanted to get married, but you didn't expect this. Nothing could've given this away for you.

"I wanna spend the rest of my life making you laugh." Shayne chuckled as you laughed a rolled your eyes as the purposely bad joke.

"Y/N, will you marry me?" Shayne's voice barely audible, the crew further back hadn't even heard him ask.

"Yes, Shayne!" You squeal, your boyf- no.

Your fiance is quick to grab you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lifts you up. The two of you are a mess of tears, smiles, sniffles, kisses, and whispers as the room is filled with cheers.

You and Shayne are quickly enveloped with loads of your friends, the shock and excitement evident throughout the room.

After a few minutes, Kimmy hugs you and Shayne tightly, congratulating the two of you continuously, quickly gasping as she looks up.

"I can't believe you didn't tell anyone!" Kimmy sniffles, smacking Shayne's chest lightly as he laughed. You looked to him with wide eyes, quickly looking to Damien in confusion as he shook his head.

"Yeah, I've had the ring for... uh, some time now" Shayne laughed, blushing brightly as you at him in awe. "I wanted to surprise you, and| wanted to have a bunch of people we care about with us to celebrate, it just felt right."

Shayne couldn't hide his embarrassment as you wrapped him into another hug, the two of you embracing each other for a few moments, happy tears falling from and for the couple.

"Oh my god, we're still doing a video, holy shit." She laughs, wiping her own tears as she quickly moved out of frame, the rest of the crew following suit. The cast quickly surrounded you once more, each with bright smiles and tear stained cheeks.

You sit back on the stool, grinning as Shayne stands beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders.

"Pst." Damien called loudly from Shayne's other side. "You should give her the ring, Shayne." He whisper-yelled, causing a fit of giggles to ripple through everyone, both you and Shayne blushing deeply.

He fumbles a bit as he opens it again, pulling the delicate, ornate ring from the box before sliding it on to your finger.

You pressed your hand on to your lap, grinning as you stared at the accessory that fit you perfectly in every way.

"I could not imagine being a comedian and having to go on after this guy." Spencer called from out of frame, causing Shayne to cackle.

You guys were quick to wrap up your outro, Shayne still wrapped around you the whole time, placing a kiss to your forehead as they called for a wrap on the shoot.

This was the perfect he was looking for.

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dameronology · 1 year

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timing's a bitch (s.h) - 2/5

n e w y e a r s '8 6

"if i just wanted someone to hold then really anyone would do, i close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you" no use i just do, hayley williams (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

warnings: mentions of underage drinking (all characters are 18+ but this is set in america lol) & also very minor references to smut

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on this series!! also massive apologies for the delay, i had massive writers' block and work was wiping me out :') still, i hope you enjoy. only three more wrong moments to go. - jazz

p.s no one in this chapter is meant to be reasonable😉

Steve Harrington hadn’t expected to spend New Years’ Eve of 1986 in a nightclub in Manhattan.

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected to be here.

Neither had you. And you didn’t even know of his whereabouts yet.

He’d been…lonely, after Christmas. Actually, he’d been lonely since the moment you left. Steve had known Hawkins before you and he’d known Hawkins with you but he had never prepared himself for Hawkins without you. Even when you called everyday and wrote letters every other week, there was still a gaping, you-sized hole in his life. Pictures of you hung up around his room; Polaroids and photo booth strips that dated back to the late seventies; records you’d brought him and drawn him; the silly, dumb notes you used to pass to each other in class. It wasn’t until you left that Steve realised his entire life was basically a shrine to you.

Christmas was great. Seeing you was great. It had been nothing but hugs and smiles and warmth for a week straight. The celebrations came and went and before he knew it, Steve was dropping you off the airport and hugging you goodbye. It stung a little less this time, know that he knew what to expect in the aftermath, but coming back to an empty house had killed him inside.

So, Steve started driving. And he kept driving until he reached the night club that he knew you’d be at. Even though it took him twelve fucking hours and fifty goddamn bucks on the door because he wasn’t old enough to be in here and especially not to be drinking. It left him wondering how much you’d paid to get in. Probably not a lot - even back in Hawkins, most bouncers just let you in. Why wouldn’t they? Maybe you were a bit haywire and crazy around the edges but you were also beautiful. One look at your smile, and the way you flashed your eyes with a stupid joke? You could get in anywhere. Steve Harrington was convinced that you were insane enough to open any door in the world. And yet, you stayed at the Hideaway. Every other Friday, with him and a pint of whatever shitty beer they had going. Because even though you get into any club in town, Steve was limited to wherever the fuck Eddie Munson could sneak him in. You’d never been one to stray away from Steve’s side.

So…yeah. Coming here had been unexpected and god, Steve hated clubbing. What was the point of a room of sweaty people and loud music? That was all he could think about as people thudded into him, one by one in time to a fucked up remix of a Queen song. He just needed to find you and then get the fuck out of here. He had nothing planned in terms of a speech, or even the faintest idea of what he was going to say. He just wanted to see you. That was all.

“Hey, man! What where the fuck you’re going!”

A sharp elbow came into contact with Steve’s ribs, and he turned around to see you. There was a scowl on face, then a look of disbelief, and before he knew it, you’d almost tackled him to the ground in a hug.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Steve hit the ground with an oof, breaking your fall with his own body. “I just missed you.”

You grinned. “I missed you too. How did you even know where I’d be?”

“You mentioned this club a few times last week. Sorry for just turning up-”

“- never apologise,” you cut him off. Stumbling up, you shoved aside a few dancers and stuck out your hand to help him up. “I’m happy to see you.”

You pulled Steve into another hug, hands balling up into the back of his shirt as you did. Steve had always given the best hugs. For as long as you could remember, all your problems could be fixed with a hug from him. Bad grades, shitty boys, fights with your parents. They were all menial, but even now, after a few months in the big city, you were certain they could fix bigger ones too.

“C’mon, Steve,” you took his hand in yours. “Let’s talk properly outside. Yelling over this music is gonna kill me.”

Keeping his hand in yours, you pulled Steve across the club and towards the smoking area on the other side. It was amazing, really, the way you could just shove people aside with your elbows and a glare. You’d put the fear of God and/or yourself into him multiple times, so Steve couldn’t be surprised.

The smoking area wasn’t as busy as the rest of the club. There were a few stragglers standing around - some with tobacco, some smoking something a little stronger. On the other side, a drunk girl was throwing up. You didn’t seem phased at all. Maybe you came to places like this often. Even though Steve had never known you to enjoy big crowds or loud music.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Steve asked. “I saw a couple pizza places down the road. Maybe we could grab some food and then watch the ball drop, if you have a television-”

“- what do you mean?” you frowned. “I was gonna stay here. There’ll be a massive countdown and drinks and all my friends are inside.”

“Seriously?” he scoffed (however unintentionally). “I didn’t know you liked clubbing.”

Your face fell. “Don’t be an ass, Steve. Y’know I hate when you’re an ass.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “I guess I don’t know what you enjoy doing at college. I forget it’s a different scene to Hawkins.”

“Hey, you’re good,” you smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here, okay?”

“Me too,” he returned the gesture, before glancing around the place. “So, what do you do here? Just…drink and dance?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you shrugged. “It definitely looks awful from the outside but I promise my friends are fun. They’ve heard all about you and I’m sure you’ll love them.”

Friends. He’d heard about all your new friends; Jessica and Amanda and Tiffany and Daniel and…there were too many to remember. Steve knew that he was still your best, best friend, but it was nice to see you flourishing. It was clear they all loved you from the way their faces lit up. They gave Steve a smile too, and a it’s so nice to meet you! or a I’ve heard so much about you!

Still though, clubbing certainly wasn’t his thing. He hadn’t expected it to be your thing either, but from the way you were throwing back shots and dancing around with your new friends, it was clear that it was. You’d shoot him a smile every few minutes, or grab him for a silly dance. All attempts to make him feel included. It wasn’t your fault that Steve had so quickly gone from excitement in seeing you to feeling like he was a sore limb. No one was doing anything to make him feel like that. Nobody but him, of course.

It wasn’t until you approached the bar just before midnight that Steve followed you.

“Hey!” you gave him a bright smile. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m not not having fun,” he grimaced, but took your hands in his. “Look, I’m really tired and I just drove twelve hours without stopping and I really want to spend time with you tomorrow, okay? So I think I’m gonna head tonight, if you’re okay with me breaking into your apartment and crashing in your bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” your face fell a little, but you still forced a smile. “No, I get it. Take my keys, yeah? It’s the apartment building with red front door on the corner of 5th and 73rd. Apartment 48. My room is the first on the left and-”

“- it’s okay, I’ll find it,” Steve cut you off. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave your hands one last squeeze. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Steve Harrington.”

Even though Steve had only had two pints of Budlight, he hadn’t considered that his alcohol tolerance was basically on the fucking floor. So, no driving for him. Just an obscenely overpriced yellow cab to take him a few blocks west. The streets of Manhattan weren’t exactly confusing, and maybe it was just dumb luck that your key fit into the first red door he found. Four floors up and two more doors in and that luck continued, right until he found himself managing to stumble into what he hoped and prayed was your apartment.

It was a cozy little place that you’d rented from one of your parents’ friends. He worked in real estate in the city and quite honestly, you’d thanked your lucky fucking stars when you heard the words subsidized and rent. Maybe it was a little bare, but you’d made it your own. Steve couldn’t help but smile to himself at all the pictures of him around the room.

Your room was just as cozy. Maybe it was a little funny that Steve’s head hit the pillow just as the fireworks outside went off - then he felt a bit bad. Had he ditched you? Maybe. But he had driven twelve hours just to unintentionally surprise you and he deserved rest. Even if you hadn’t asked that of him, even less expected it of him. Maybe he was just a little disappointed that you hadn’t wanted to spend New Years Eve sat in a pizza place with him. That was what you had done the year before.

He fell asleep easily, the traffic outside becoming white noise. It wasn’t until a couple hours later - just gone 3AM, according to the clock on your bedside table - that you came crashing and stumbling in. Steve was woken by the sound of your shoes hitting the floor with a thud, and then a little fuck! as you stumbled out of your clothes and into a big NYU t-shirt.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve suddenly sat up, barely catching you as you fell to the ground. “Why don’t you turn on the lights, genius?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you muttered. Were you mad? You seemed mad.

“Hey,” he frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing-”

“- we both know what when you say nothing that it’s definitely not nothing,” he reminded you. “Are you gonna spit it out or am I gonna have to go through every single thing I did and said tonight before we find an answer?”

You scowled at him, knowing he was right. Steve didn’t have fifteen years of riding the fiery dragon that was your personality not to know how to humble you.

“You said you missed me and that you came to see,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest.

“...and that’s why you’re mad?”

“No!” you snapped. “I’m mad because you stayed for like…all of five minutes and then left! You didn’t even try to talk to my friends or to even stay and then I had to spend the last two hours defending you whenever they pointed it out!”

“Pointed what out?!”

“That you left! That you barely spoke to them or to me-”

“- I’m sorry that clubbing isn’t my thing!” Steve cut you off, barely hiding his audible groan. “I left so you could have fun with your new friends, okay? I didn’t wanna kill the mood.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “You weren’t killing the mood. Why do you have to say things like that?”

“Because it’s true!” he huffed. “You have a life here and friends and…things have changed. And I think I’ve been left behind.”

“How?!” you demanded. “How have I left you behind?! Because I went clubbing for one fucking night instead of dropping my plans when you turned up out of the blue?!”

“Because you said that things wouldn’t change! And they have!”

“Of course things are going to change!” you yelled. “We’re growing up! I’m at college, you’re working full time! Life fucking changes, Steve!”

“What if it changes and you forget about me?”

“Oh my god,” you let out another groan. “Steve, my life does not revolve around you. I love you and you are my best friend but can’t you just appreciate what we have right now rather than worrying about what we might be?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going instead.

“Maybe we won’t be friends in five years. Maybe we’ll be married with kids in ten or sharing a fucking grave in eighty but none of that matters if you just can’t appreciate what we are right now,” you continued. “Two people who love each other and-”

“- you think about us getting married?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You literally just said it.”

“It was hypothetical-”

“- but you still said it-”

“- I also said that we might not be friends! Do you wanna bet which one is more likely to happen at the rate you’re going?”

You gave him a light thump to the chest. Steve caught your hand as it collided with him, large fingers holding your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat as he did, gaze catching his. The tension in the room had already been thick but in that moment, you couldn’t have cut it with a knife. He kept his grip on your hand, both your chests heaving with anger and frustration and rage and-

The first time you had kissed, it had been gentle. Experimental and a little toothy and maybe hungry after years and years of unpent teenage horniness, but whatever tension had built in the last three months alone made all those years look like nothing. This was desperate and deep, hands all over the other. Steve kept his palms splayed on your back, then on your neck, then on your ass, each time gripping you so tight, clinging onto you as though you might slip away if he didn’t.

You fell back on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his shirt. It was hard to register when exactly he took it off. Actually, when yours came off too, for that matter. Steve Harrington, as it turned out, was a man who consumed all your fucking senses all the fucking time. Ergo, it was hard to think about anything other than him, or what his hands were doing, or that you were finally about to go all the way with your best friend of fifteen years.

It sort of clicked in your mind at some point that you probably should have stopped. It also registered in his mind. Still, neither of you did anything about it. You’d come this far now and it was hard to stop. Any consequences would be tomorrow’s problem.

Happy New Year.

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou

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queermania · 11 months

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(last reblog made me realize something but i didn't want to add it to the post or in the tags because it's spoilery if you've only seen up to s8)

there are a lot of reasons why cas' confession is so unsatisfying to me but one of the reasons i haven't been able to articulate until now is that it kind of.... undoes everything that preceded it? cas gives voice to the thing we've all been watching play out for twelve years and that should feel like a win, it should feel like relief, because happiness isn't in the having, it's in the just being, it's in the just saying, right? but, in saying it, cas removed the being part of it from everything that happened prior. cas' speech made it feel like we haven't been watching two people who are in queer love and who are very much in a queer relationship.

instead, we've been watching a guy secretly pining for another guy who may or may not have secretly loved him back. and that... is not true to the story i've been watching unfold? that only works if i accept the premise that the writers and the actors and the directors and the crew and the editors weren't actually telling a queer love story to the best of their ability the whole time. and i don't accept that! they were telling the story!! it was on purpose!!!

like, the reason dean's confession-prayer in purgatory is satisfying is because it doesn't undo anything that came before it.

Cas? Cas, I hope you can hear me… that wherever you are, it's not too late. I should've stopped you. You're my best friend, but I just let you go. 'Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong. I-- Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know -- I know that it's -- i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just -- it comes out. And I can't -- I can't stop it. No matter how -- how bad I want to, I just can't stop it. And -- and I-I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. I'm sorry it took me so long -- I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm -- I'm so sorry. Man, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can hear me. Okay.

this is dean reiterating everything we as an audience already know because we've already seen it (dean wants cas there and he regrets letting him go and there is nothing cas could do that would make dean actually give up on him). if you replace "best friend" with literally anything else that effectively means "romantic partner" this still works. it doesn't change it at all. this is dean and cas. this is destiel. this is the story i've been watching since lazarus rising. maybe even the pilot.

contrast that with 15x18, however:

I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be? What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer because the one thing I want... It's something I know I can't have. But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it . . . I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're "daddy's blunt instrument." And you think that hate and anger, that's... That's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you see it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean . . . I love you.

this is a different story. it changes everything. and, like, i think that was supposed to be the point, but unfortunately for me it is one of the reasons it doesn't work. why doesn't cas think he can have dean? is it simply because he thinks dean doesn't want him back?? is it because he thinks dean is straight?? like, the fact that i don't instinctively know the answer to that is a problem, and the reason i don't know the answer is because it doesn't jive with the show i've been watching for fifteen seasons. castiel's confession is the conclusion to a different show's run, one where they were actually queerbaiting the whole time and decided to throw the fans a bone at the very end.

but they weren't queerbaiting. they were writing textually queer characters with textually queer relationships.

and so a speech where cas is confessing to being in love with dean even though he thinks dean's straight doesn't really work at any point in the show's timeline for me.

and a speech where cas is confessing to being in love with dean even though he doesn't think dean loves him back in that way doesn't really work at any point past s12 for me, and even within s12 to be honest.

like, the narrative actively starts to fall apart in 13x01 if you don't take dean and cas being in love/in a relationship as a given, but even episodes like 12x10 and 12x19 imply something was already happening with them.

so. yeah.

#deancas #1518 #confession #mp

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talkfantasytome · 1 year

Text

The Newest Valkyrie

Cassian decides to give Nesta a little surprise for the holidays.

Warnings: None | Word Count: 2,337 | Read on AO3

Nessian Masterist

Happy Holidays, @ignite-me!!! It is I, your Secret Santa! I really hope you enjoy this little drabble! It's not much, but it's soft and fluffy, literally and metaphorically lol. I hope you're having a wonderful holiday season and have a great new year! 💕

"Thank you so much!"

Cassian let out a sigh of relief as he looked into the fully packed bag sitting on the settee at the foot of his and Nesta's bed. He'd honestly had no idea what he would find after asking the House for this favor, but apparently emphasizing that the request was actually for Nesta offered better results. It would make the surprise all the sweeter having everything ready for his wife and mate.

He looked through the bag, checking to make sure there wasn't anything else he needed to add. Cassian was pleasantly surprised at the amount of lingerie - and quality of it - the House had packed. And grateful, of course. There were also a few day dresses, some training clothes, some cozies for lounging, and even a few formal dresses. He hadn't requested that. Guess he'd need to add some formal attire into his own bag and plan out one or two fancier dinners for them.

Then again, did he really need to follow orders like that from the House? It wouldn't be with them to see what happened, thank the Mother. He might finally feel like they have some privacy.

The temperature of the room decreased drastically as if the House could read his thoughts. "Okay, understood, packing some nice shirts," he mumbled, walking over to his closet and pulling out some of his nicest clothes. As he folded them up and placed them in his own bag, he saw the House add three books to Nesta's. "Surely she won't need that many. She's going to be kept quite busy."

The House added three more to the bag to spite him. Maybe it wasn't as on board with his surprise as he thought.

"Fine. This week is about her, if she wants to spend it all reading, she can do that." He rolled his eyes and closed both bags, fastening them shut and bringing them up to the balcony. Luckily, Nesta was out with her sister and Gwyn, doing some Solstice shopping. That gave him the freedom to bring the bags up to where Az was waiting to winnow them to their destination.

His brother took one look at the bags and shook his head, chuckling as he said, "I thought you were only going for a week."

"Yeah, well, the House overpacked, and then made me do the same," he shrugged.

Az nodded in understanding. The last time he'd asked the House for a favor, he'd ended up with a picnic basket filled with enough food for twelve, including ten different chocolate desserts. All because he requested help in preparing a lunch for Gwyn. "I'm sure you'll be glad to be away for a few days."

"And you'll be glad to have the house to yourself." Cassian threw a wink at Az. "I imagine Gwyn will be around quite a lot."

"You know it's not like that."

"What? I just meant for dinner," Cassian hummed, smiling innocently.

Az gave a grunted, "Hmmm," and grabbed the bags. "See you at Solstice."

A quick exchange of nods, and Az was gone, gliding up to beyond the wards and then winnowing the bags away to help Cassian with the surprise. Of course, if he touched anything, Cassian would host a party every week and force Az to give a speech at each one. No mercy.

And that was the last of the tasks. All that was left for Cassian to do was wait for Nesta to get back.

And wait. And wait. And wait.

It was almost three hours before Nesta got back, hand grasping a bag from her favorite bakery, a gentle smile on her face. It still took his breath away. He'd never get bored of seeing Nesta happy, of glimpsing that smile that sent his heart racing.

Her lips spread wider when she saw him. Nesta walked toward him and gave him a kiss on the cheek before asking, "How was your afternoon?"

"Nothing special. How was yours?"

"It was good," she sighed, her steel gaze bright. "Found the last of the gifts I wanted to get. And some extras for a certain someone." She wrapped her arms around his waist, and Cassian instantly had his snaking around her shoulders.

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I do hope Eris likes them." Cassian froze until he saw the glimmer in Nesta's eyes and the way the corner of her lip twitched upward. Not to mention the slight twitch of her arched ear, a dead giveaway.

He laughed softly, kissing her atop her head. "I'm sure he will." Tucking away a loose golden brown strand, Cassian added, "And, speaking of presents, I have a surprise for you." Nesta's eyebrows quirked as she looked back up at him. "But we have to go to it."

"Color me intrigued." Cassian smiled widely down at her and grabbed her hand, leading her to the balcony. "Oh, we're going now?"

"We are," he replied. "But don't worry, you can bring your sweets."

Nesta huffed out a small laugh and rolled her eyes. "Do I need anything else for this trip?"

"Everything is sorted, don't worry about it." He leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek. "But we are flying, so I'd like to leave while we still have some daylight."

"So needy," Nesta mumbled, just loud enough for Cassian to hear.

He picked her up swiftly in response and gave her no warning as he lunged off the balcony. Her arms snapped around his neck, taking an iron grip around him as she chastised him with a shockingly colorful vocabulary.

After that it was a smooth flight. Chilly, but Cassian used his siphons to create a shield from the wind to minimize that. It was a comfortable silence as they flew. Nesta enjoyed looking at the world around them. She'd gotten used to flying, but still experienced it with wonder and awe. And Cassian enjoyed looking at her as she did.

It was about two hours before Nesta started to get a bit antsy. "Cassian, where are we going?" she asked through a groan, fidgeting to find a new, more comfortable position.

"I told you, it's a surprise," he reminded her.

"Ugh!" She moved around again, and then just seemed to give up. "How close are we?"

"Very, I promise. Just a few more minutes."

Nesta let out a loud sigh and dropped her head. If the trip were any longer, Cassian would've planned to make a stop. He knew that, as much as Nesta enjoyed flying with him, she didn't like to do it for too long. Interesting, considering how easily it was for her to spend a whole day in the same spot when she was reading.

It wasn't even five minutes until their destination came into view.

The small cabin was nestled neatly in the mountains, atop one particular peak that was well guarded. The peak was also elevated enough that the view from the cabin was spectacular, looking out over the entire range.

Cassian held Nesta tighter and whispered in her ear, "Here we are."

"Is that the cabin?" she asked in shock, eyes widening.

"Not exactly," Cassian chuckled. "It's not the one Rhys owns. It's mine. I thought you might appreciate that more, and I wanted to share it with you."

Cassian set Nesta down on the snow carefully and took her hand, leading her to the wooden house. His heart began to pound faster and harder with each step they took. There was no way to turn back now, and yet the deed was not done. It was a horrible position to be in.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped aside, motioning for Nesta to step in first. He was right on her heels, until she gasped and his entire body froze.

Shit.

What did that mean? Was it a good gasp? A bad one? Did she see something terrifying? Had something gone horribly wrong?

Cassian looked around the cabin for anything out of place. The kitchen and living room both seemed to still be intact, as were all the decorations he'd been putting up over the past week. Floating Fae lights and pine garlands, candles on every flat surface and large wreaths hung on each window - everything was there, and it looked pretty damn good, if Cassian said so himself.

There was no fire roaring, but Cassian had managed to convince Helion to place some hospitality enchantments on the cabin, including one that would keep the cabin well heated. And then he found a lovely painting of a fire in a fireplace and put it right where the fire would be - for the aesthetic.

"Did you do all this for me?" she asked gently, eyes scanning the room.

He couldn't help but smile down at her. And then he sidled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his head on her shoulder. "Of course. I thought you might like to have a celebration with just us, and a chance to get away from Velaris."

"Cassian," Nesta breathed in that way she only did when she was at a loss for words. Her eyes snagged on the chocolate cake in the middle of the table before she turned in his arms and rested her hands on his chest. "This is amazing. Thank you."

He grinned widely at her before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. "Happy Anniversary, Nesta."

"Happy Anniversary, Cassian." She pushed herself up onto her toes and kissed him again, snaking her arms around his neck to pull him down and deepen the kiss.

Cassian let her for a moment, all too willing to get carried away in Nesta, but then he heard a soft whine and was brought back to reality. "Ahhh," he sighed as he pulled away. "There is one other surprise. Something I thought you'd enjoy having some time with without the rest of the rabble."

With lifted eyebrows, Nesta tilted her head at him and said, "That now has my full attention."

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then disappeared into the bedroom.

Nesta wandered around the cabin as she waited for Cassian to return.

She was truly speechless at what he'd done. The cabin was a Solstice wonderland, incorporating Fae and human decorations perfectly. Stepping into it was like a hug of warmth and comfort, almost like stepping into Cassian's arms after a hard day.

It had been a rough year. Training only intensified after the Blood Rite, and Nesta was spending more time with Gwyn and Emerie, recruiting and planning out what they might do with their new Valkyries. There was also a lot more time spent with family this year, and while Nesta cherished all the nights she spent with her nephew, she could've done with fewer family dinners and other obligations. It was starting to get to the point where she and Cassian had to plan to have a night to themselves at least a week in advance.

Even when Nesta was free, that didn't always guarantee Cassian was. He didn't like to complain about it, but Nesta could tell it was a drain on him, the need to split his time between Velaris and Illyria. She joined him often, especially if he'd be spending more than one night there, but it was a lot of energy, and he missed his family when he was gone.

Nesta was smelling one of the wreaths on the windows, savoring the strong scent of pine, when Cassian returned, his hands full.

The basket he held wasn't very large, but it had a massive red bow on it. And inside, a small, furry head was sticking up, wide eyes practically glowing.

"Cassian…"

"Surprise!" he cheered, holding the basket out to Nesta. Inside, a tiny, long-haired kitten with steel grey fur sat, looking up at Nesta.

She nearly melted at the site of the little animal. Its tiny nose and little, white-booted paws. "What did you do?" she asked in a quiet voice as she reached in and picked up the kitten. Gosh, it was light. And it snuggled close to her as she held it close to her body.

"Do you like her?"

"Her?" Nesta asked.

"Yup! I saw her the other day and just knew. She held her head up high, turning her nose up at a kitten that was clearly trying to annoy her, and I just had to get her."

Nesta could feel a heat building behind her eyes as she hugged the cat close. "She's perfect."

"And very fierce. You should see what she did to the evil towel I left in there," Cassian chuckled. "Your newest Valkyrie."

The kitten yawned and Nesta felt her heart expand as she then rested her head against Nesta's arm and fell quickly asleep. "I love her, thank you."

Cassian beamed down at her. "You have a whole week to get acquainted. From what I've heard and read, that'll bond her to you so you won't have to worry about her loving anyone else quite as much." He lifted his hand and scratched the kitten's head softly.

"What about you?"

"I'll give you two space."

Nesta rolled her eyes and chuckled softly. "No, I mean, I want her to love you, too. She's ours."

"I just thought-"

"No, Cassian," Nesta interrupted, smiling up at her husband, her mate, her life partner. "She's ours. I want to share my life with you, remember? That includes her."

He took her breath away with the smile he gave her, likely thinking back to the vows they shared during their wedding and mating ceremony. "I remember. It's the greatest honor of my life." He kept his hand on the kitten, his fingers meeting where Nesta's rested, and kissed her again. One of many kisses they shared that week. Ending with the first of many nips from the newest addition to their family, and a shared laughter that filled the cabin for their entire trip.

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @clemidansleschoux @meher-sumedha @labetenoir @vinylcryes @shinya-hiiragi @starryblueskies7 @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @aks18 @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @dealfea @acotargiftexchange

#nessian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #fluff #just fluff #holiday fluff #kitten #acotar secret santa 2022 #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf #acosf fanfiction

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hayffiebird · 3 months

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Taste of Strawberries, chap. 41

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M

Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more?

Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming.

Author’s note: TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of suicide and life’s general awfulness à la young mentor Haymitch. So, yeah. This lil’ chapter is hella depressing.

Chapter 41

Piece by piece

June wouldn’t look at him – not once – as she tied balloons to a nearby tree. Floating ones of every color, just outside the cream colored party tent. The helium canister stood by her feet. A big cylinder thing, gray as stormy seas. If anything it looked like the bombs that a Capitol hovercraft might drop.

Course, he knew better than to blurt that out.

The party tent was anchored at every corner, accompanied by more of June’s floating balloons. Tethered to the ground and tied up with ribbons. The sidewalls had all been removed, leaving the waterproof ceiling above, just in case of rain.

The garden table was set up with the plump coffee pot and matching china. Pretty glasses with soft yellow napkins. Frog green plastic plates and sippy cups for the birthday kids along with a stack of gifts.

Sitting in a bucket of ice was a bottle of (obviously) alcohol-free apple cider and over by June’s apple tree: Effie’s picnic blanket spread out in the shade – just in case it didn’t rain.

“You did it wonderful out here”, he told the blonde woman’s back. “Sincerely.”

Nothing. Not even a sour: “I didn’t do it for you.” If Annabel’s patience was wearing thin, he was one drunken stupor away from making June an enemy.

Not that he wasn’t used to it. Making enemies.

Her silence. Her body language. He knew it all too well. Used to get it all the time back home. Not so much anymore. Post-rebellion.

“Because you helped put an end to Snow. An end to the Games”, Effie said but that wasn’t it. He hadn’t redeemed himself. The supposed thawing of District 12 toward him was all due to the depressing fact that almost no one survived the fire bombings.

But in the glory days – the hateful glances, the cold shoulders, even confrontations was all part of his everyday life. Took only a few seasons.

For about a second after his Quell, him actually winning breathed a sense of hope into the district. Not only because of Parcel Day - those monthly food packages sent in the first year. It was the fact that Twelve finally, finally had a mentor now. A mentor clever enough to win one of the hardest Games in history. Surely it would make a difference? Surely!

Course, it didn’t take him long to prove them wrong and all that hope and optimism turned cold and bitter as a winter storm. It wasn’t just that they resented him for not doing enough. He was also their living breathing reminder of the Games. Past and future.

And as the dead children under his care accumulated he spent less and less time outside the house, unable to look at the young faces of towners and Seam kids alike, wondering which one was next.

That and their loved ones. Families, friends, sweethearts of the kids he failed to bring home. They shouldn’t have to endure his presence more than absolutely necessary. Not if he could help it.

Like the funerals. Few things on this Earth could compete with his hatred for the reaping but those god awful double funerals were definitely up there.

As the mentor, he was expected to attend. And he did, the first couple of years.

Dandruff wasn’t present of course. You didn’t escort dead children back. It was just him and a handful of mourners, carefully selected. All presided over by an armada of peacekeepers, armed to the teeth.

The Iron Maiden and later old Cray held a speech over the small-sized coffins but it was never really about the dead, or the living. More like … sitting round the table and now let’s all give thanks to our lord and savior president Snow.

You’d think there’d be flowers. White, perfume-reeking roses, reminding you of who ran this show. But of course not. Snow wouldn’t waste a single bloom on something as unimportant as a dead tribute. Not even the local wild rose that Katniss might encounter out in the woods.

The last funeral he ever went to was before she and Peeta were born. Effie must have still been a child.

Dandruff reaped a couple of Seam kids that year, just like she did most seasons. 15 year old Laurel and Douglas – just twelve. None of them made it past the bloodbath.

Their families weren’t to go near the coffins to say a final goodbye or put down a daisy. They were just an audience. A class of school children and like the dutiful crowd they kept their expected distance while the Head Peacekeeper ran their pathetic charade.

Lauren’s parents, her brothers and sisters all sobbed together. Silent ones so as not attract the attention of those rifles. Douglas’s mother seemed in chock. Her eyes stared at nothing, bone dry, while her husband - face sunken, a head shorter than her - cried for the both of them.

Haymitch kept his distance at the scene, like he always did. Out of respect for the families. Their pain. But his eyes had flitted to Douglas‘s father at one point and right in that moment Tucker looked at him.

The coal miner knew the mentor would be there. Or maybe not. The funerals were never aired. Not unless there was a special year, like the Quells. Either way he looked stunned, staggered. Like coming out of a dream.

And then, rage took its place. There was no other word for it. And he left his wife’s side. Elbowed himself right through the crowd. Haymitch knew what was coming. Could have deflected it. Easily. After his time in the arena he had reflexes like a wild rabbit. But he didn’t and Tucker struck him to the ground. His body had barely hit the dirt before the man was all over him.

Hand clenched into a fist he punched his face, over and over. Busted his lip up, his nose, his eyebrow – all the time hollering the same thing.

“Murderer! You murderer! Child-murderer!”

Tucker never got to finish the job. Later that same day, only hours after they buried their son, wails could be heard from the coal miner’s house. Peacekeepers arrived to learn the cause of the racket and found Tucker in the bedroom covered in blood, holding his dead wife’s body.

The realization that her only child was gone must have finally hit her. She’d cut her wrists open with her husband’s shaving knife.

The peacekeepers wanted to retrieve the body but Tucker, mad with grief, wouldn’t let them anywhere near Eliza. Teeth bared he fought their every attempt until they shot him.

Square in the chest.

That night, Haymitch got himself drunk for the first time. The Hob was closed but he found his way into the Seam, guided by whatever moonlight he could make out through his one good eye. Knocked on Ripper’s door. Asked for a bottle of white liquor.

The one-armed woman hesitated, reluctant to sell to someone still so young. But her gaze travelled across his bashed, beat up face. His eye swollen shut. The gashes, the crusts of blood, the red and purple bruises.

Finally she nodded.

The liquor burned just as much as he remembered – from that one time with the butcher’s. A beverage so vile no one with any sense left, or choice, would drink it willingly. But he powered it down.

Every drop.

Sip by sip, mouthful by mouthful – even when he gagged on it, even though he knew he’d puke himself into another nosebleed in just a matter of hours.

He did it anyway. To rid himself off their faces. Their voices. If just for a little while.

Laurel, dead. Douglas, dead. Eliza bleeding out in her husband’s arms. Tucker with a hole in his chest.

Murderer! You murderer! Child-murderer!

That was the last time he ever went to a funeral. They could put him in chains, throw him in a cell, flog him or just shoot him on sight like they did Tucker. He didn’t care.

And as time wore on, he spent less and less of it outside the Victor’s Village. He reckoned there’s where he’d do the least harm. He actively pushed people away, alienated himself from the rest of the community.

Stopped spending any real time with Sae and Hazelle and all the rest. Was rude and hurtful on purpose to keep people at a distance. Like Tessa when she arrived at his door step, wanting to treat his face with her soothing herbs and salves.

He shut her out. Shut them all out.

So they’d be safe.

He drew a deep soundless sigh. Stared at the tiny lady bug crawling up a purple ribbon.

He meant what he told June. And he wanted the twins to have all this. And yet ... the whole thing felt increasingly unreal. Presents, balloons, birthday cake.

Why did he get to be here celebrating his kids growing up when so many good, decent, innocent people were all just bones in the ground?

It wasn’t fair and he didn’t deserve it.

Any of it.

#hayffie #haymitch x effie #the hunger games renaissance #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #district 11 #my fanfiction #post-mockingjay #young haymitch

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lamaenthel · 6 months

Text

Tivaevae | Chapter Two: Frayed Edges

Still struggling to emotionally recover from Master Obi-Wan's deception, Ahsoka discovers in the aftermath that twelve-year-old Boba Fett has been locked up among adults in the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. After convincing Chancellor Palpatine to grant him a pardon, she manages to secure his release on the condition that she serve as his legal guardian. Now, with the help of Master Plo and the Wolfpack, she vows to help him track down what family he has left.

| AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

Fandom: Star Wars Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Kanan Jarrus, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CC-1119 | Appo, Dexter Jettster, FLO | WA-7 (Star Wars), Shaak Ti, ARC Commander Blitz (Star Wars), CT-6922 | Dogma, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Sinker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Comet (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-4860 | Boost, Aurra Sing, Tobias Beckett, Null-11 | Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars) Total Word Count: 123,000 Chapter Word Count: 6,815 Chapter Summary: Plo, Ahsoka, and Boba go out to dinner while Obi-Wan commiserates with Cody back at the barracks.

Ahsoka met Boba's eyes in the rearview mirror of Plo's speeder and they were… unnerving. There was none of the warmth of his brothers' eyes in his hard, chipped gaze. He may not have been sent to the front lines, but he'd been fighting a war all on his own since the First Battle of Geonosis.

Boba stared back at her without flinching, his aura a hard, cast-iron gray. "The fuck are you looking at, tailhead?"

Good grief, the kid had a mouth on him. She exchanged looks with Plo. He seemed strangely amused for a man who had gasped so hard the first time she squeaked out kriff! that his antiox mask almost fell off.

"What's with the potty mouth?" she asked, exasperated. Swearing didn't bother her, she spent almost every minute of her daily life around soldiers, but Boba's mouth was just rancid. Despite Plo's golden aura of humor, it made her cringe to see someone cussing up such a storm in front of him. Plus, curses in Basic just… hit harder, for whatever reason.

"I've got fucking freedom of fucking speech, bitch." He took one last loud slurp of his chocolate milkshake and tossed the cup over the side. He'd ordered it after loudly verifying that chocolate was toxic to both Togrutas and Kel Dor.

Ahsoka covered her face and fought the urge to scream. She had no idea what she thought she was doing. Once again, she'd thrown herself headfirst into action without thinking about what succeeding would actually mean. Boba was practically feral, and he was all hers.

Already she felt like calling Padmé to beg her to save her from her own stupidity. She peeked in the rearview mirror once Boba finally turned away and watched him. Someone had shaved his head and it made him look even smaller. He had a shiner that covered the left half of his swollen face, a split lip, and had walked out of the prison like he had at least one broken rib. He was going to have to see Kix as soon as they got to the barracks. A detour through the drive-through of Ahsoka and Plo's favorite creamery had eased the staticky-white panic that had started vibrating around his aura the moment he'd stepped into the interview room, all spikey like a sea urchin and pulsing with violet and gray sadness-disappointment-fear, but it hadn't helped with the swearing.

Plo hummed to himself. "I'll drop you off at the barracks, Padawan. I believe young Boba will be much more comfortable there as opposed to the Jedi Temple."

Boba snorted. "Fucking right. Last thing I want it to be surrounded by any more of you bi–"

"Alright, we get it!" Ahsoka exclaimed. "You're a hard–" she glanced at Plo, " –butt, now shut up!"

"Ahsoka!" Plo immediately admonished her.

"I said butt!"

"You know I do not appreciate hearing you tell someone to 'shut up,' Padawan."

"Master, he's been swearing nonstop since we left!" Ahsoka whined. "He called Zinny a besh-word for asking if he wanted a napkin!"

"There are ways of requesting that one alters their speech without telling them to shut up," Plo said pointedly.

"Yes, Master," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

"That's right, bitch, alter your fucking speech," Boba sneered from the back seat.

Ahsoka pressed her palms against her eyes and wondered if Kix would tranquilize Boba if she asked very nicely.

"Boba, I will ask that you refrain from insulting Ahsoka any further. She worked very hard to get you released from prison, you know."

"Oh yeah?" Boba challenged Plo through the rearview mirror. "How so?"

"Well for one, she requested an emergency meeting with the Chancellor of the Republic himself and convinced him to grant you a full pardon." Plo got off of the main drag and approached the barracks from the south.

Boba's aura fluttered with gray-yellow surprise. "Well thank you very much for springing me, tailhead," he said snidely after he'd recovered. "How'd you convince the Chancellor to pardon me, eh? Use your mouth? You've got nice lips, I bet you convinced him quick."

Ahsoka bit the side of her cheek and looked at Plo.

"He's trying to get a reaction from you," Plo said mildly.

"I know," she grumbled. "It won't work."

"Ignore him."

Boba kicked the back of her seat with both feet repeatedly. "Hey tailhead, you ever had your besh licked from the back?"

She growled darkly. "Oh, you little–"

"That's enough, Boba," Plo said firmly, then turned the radio on to some slow-tempo electronic music. "Let us appreciate the music instead of the sound of our own voices for the rest of the ride."

"Ha–"

"Appreciate the music," Plo interrupted him sharply. "No more speaking."

She and Boba both crossed their arms and locked eyes in the rearview mirror, exchanging death glares. His face suddenly split in a grin and he started flicking his tongue at her like a lizard.

She rolled her eyes and looked away, then looked back a few seconds later to see that he was still doing it but had slowed down and added his fingers in a yirt below his tongue.

Her lip curled in disgust. He was twelve, that was just wrong.

Plo sighed beside her, his aura a lot more chartreuse in annoyance than it had been a moment ago. She felt a little mollified to see that Boba was getting to him too.

She looked up and saw Boba had gotten his other hand into the display, thrusting into the air with vulgar enthusiasm. She eyed the speeder brake. Boba had his seatbelt on, she could probably nudge the brake with the Force and give the little stinker an attitude adjustment without hurting him.

"Don't, Padawan," Plo warned her dryly, not taking his eyes off of the speeder traffic. The barracks were only one more block away.

Ahsoka brought up her message center and quickly messaged Rex to say that they were almost there, then sighed and leaned back. At least Rex would help her now. He'd given her the brief rundown on their history; how after the rest of his batch had died in a training accident, he'd received a few weeks of training from the Prime himself and even stayed in his quarters for a bit until he could be absorbed into another batch. After being reassigned to Cody's batch he had still looked out for Boba whenever he could. Some of the more experimental troopers didn't have the same respect for the Prime and his son, they'd picked on him mercilessly every time Jango left for a job.

"I got my shebs handed to me, but I still stepped up to them," Rex shrugged. "The Nulls were crazy, sure – you'd look up at midmeal and there would be one climbing the rafters. But the problem was they were mean as hell to anyone who wasn't part of their little family. They liked to torture Boba. Everyone else was afraid of them and I was too, but he was so small compared to us. I couldn't just stand there and watch."

It didn't surprise Ahsoka in the slightest that even as a cadet, Rex had been watching the back of a little sibling. He was a good man. It was why she loved him so much.

His left hand cupped the back of her head, directly under her rear lek, and his forehead gently pressed against hers. "Voy entye, vod'ika."

She shook her head and cleared her mind. It wasn't wise to think too hard about such things around Plo. Besides, it hadn't meant anything. He was just thanking her for helping him with his panic attack.

It… it was just that it had felt like it could have been something else. His aura had been copper, which to her usually signified familial love, but it had just been so intense at the time. It made her second guess her initial impression.

Plo parked across from the barracks in the administrative staff garage, then turned and looked at Boba.

"Anyone ever told you your face looks like a ruined vagina?" Boba asked casually.

"Once or twice," Plo rumbled, his aura going gold again.

"Master, don't encourage him," Ahsoka moaned into her hands, unable to look at either of them.

"Now, Boba," Plo began, "I do warn you that you are about to enter the living space of five-hundred and seventy-six men who are very fond of Padawan Tano and will not take kindly to crude comments made about her. Do with this information what you will."

Boba's face and aura both blanched with fear, and Ahsoka could tell from the way his eyes darted across the street that he was remembering the Nulls.

"Hey," she said gently. "I won't let anyone hurt you, okay? Just… clean up your language a little."

"Whatever," Boba muttered, looking away.

Plo's eyes and cheeks moved in his version of a smile, and his aura brimmed a soft blue with pride. "Very good," he said, then patted her on the shoulder. "I will return this evening once I've made our traveling arrangements. Try not to burn the barracks down."

Ahsoka huffed a soft laugh and nodded. "Alright, kiddo, let's go hang out with your brothers."

"They're not my brothers," Boba said sourly, flaring red with anger. "I'm not like them."

"Tell me about it." Ahsoka unbelted herself, got out, and held Boba's door open for him. She took the small satchel of his returned possessions from prison and wrapped her fingers tightly around his bicep before he could bolt.

"Koh-to-yah!" Plo called before leaving.

Ahsoka looked down at the miniature vod beside her. "This doesn't have to be a nightmare, you know," she said gently, leading him up the staircase to the skywalk. "I'm not trying to be your mom, Fox was just joking. We can get along."

"I don't get along with shabla jetii," he snapped, his aura going red again.

"Well, you're gonna have to learn," Ahsoka said tightly.

They approached the upper security gate. "Hey, Disk," Ahsoka greeted him once they were within earshot.

"Hey, Commander." He didn't have his helmet on and he was looking at Boba curiously. "What are you doing on Coruscant, cadet?"

"I'm gonna be a soldier one day, just like you!" Boba said brightly, widening his eyes and peeling his lips back in a creepy, manic grin. "I'm going to die for the Republic!"

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "He needs a visitor's pass."

Disk watched Boba uneasily as he prepared one, who held the terrifying grimace on his face without moving, blinking or breathing.

"Can you stop being weird?" Ahsoka finally asked, then snapped her fingers in front of his eyes so he'd blink.

Boba startled, glared at her, then snapped his heels together and stood at perfect attention. "Sir, Yes Sir!" he bellowed. "I will be more patriotic immediately, Sir!"

"That's not what I said–"

"Galactic Republic!" Boba started to loudly sing.

Ahsoka winced, the notes vibrating her montrals like nails on porcelain.

"Star systems united!" he continued to sing, purposefully off-key.

"Boba, stop."

"Here's his pass, Commander," Disk said loudly over the boy's shrieking.

"Under our flaaaags!"

Ahsoka was trying to be the grown-up here, but she did have a limit. "Quiet!" she snapped, then dragged him through the gate and away from Disk.

"ALL STARS BURN AS ONNNNNNNE!" Boba belted at the top of his lungs as they cleared the last gate.

"Boba, shut up! That's enough!" she hissed at him.

"Fucking right it is." He jammed a razor-point elbow into her gut and bolted like a racing fathier, disappearing around the corner before Ahsoka could so much as reach out for him.

"Oh, you little shit–" Ahsoka took off after him, relying on her Empathy to keep a lock on his uniquely gray aura. He was way too fast for a kid with broken ribs.

"Disk, lock down the exits!" Ahsoka barked into her commlink as she tried to catch up. Holy karking sithspit, did the kid have wheels?

"He already gotten away from you?" Disk asked.

"Disk!" she shrieked.

"On it, Commander."

Ahsoka bounced around the corner and saw Boba cheekily wave and then flip his middle fingers up at her from behind a set of closing turbo-lift doors.

"Seriously?" Ahsoka said to herself in disbelief, then spun and charged for the emergency staircase. Boba's aura was tanking at top speed to the bottom level; she vaulted over the edge of the winding stairs and landed hard on her heels. She slid the stairwell door open with the Force and took off, slamming into a trooper at full speed a half-second later.

"Sorry!" she called, then did a double take. "Fives! Help me!" She yanked him to his feet with the Force and then took off with his hand in hers.

"Are we under attack?" Fives gasped, still breathless from her hitting him like a cannonball. His aura was blinking red-white alarm.

"We have to catch Boba before he escapes!"

"Boba?" Fives asked, bewildered. "Your tea is escaping?"

"Not boba tea, Boba Fett!" She slammed them both into the wall as they turned the corner to keep their momentum and kept sprinting. He'd gotten off the turbo-lift and she wasn't sure which floor he was on, but he was moving. Troopers dove out of their way like they were avoiding a runaway turbo-train.

"Boba Fett?" Fives' voice cracked. "What the hell is he doing here?"

Ahsoka spied Boba's aura intensifying; he was getting closer to her. "I took custody of him!"

"You what?" Fives laughed in sheer green disbelief. "What does that mean?"

"I'm his legal guardian!" She dragged Fives into another stairwell and went up a floor. He was much closer now.

"You've gotta be– what, is he gonna go on campaigns with us? Do we have babysitting shifts?"

"I don't know, Fives!" she wailed.

"Does Rex know?"

"It was his idea!"

"No it shabla was not!" Fives gasped.

Ahsoka slid to a halt, and Fives crashed into her from behind and bumped her a few feet forward. "Where did he go?" Ahsoka asked frantically. She turned and took Fives by the plastoid biceps. "He was so close, where did he go?" She shook him a little.

"I don't know?" Fives responded faintly.

"He's too far away, I can't see his aura." She started to pace back and forth, squeezing her front lekku with both hands. "We can't panic. He can't have gotten far, right? W-We just have to stay calm and not panic."

"Yeah, of–"

"Don't panic, Fives!" she hissed, speeding up her pacing.

"I–"

"Stop panicking!"

"Okay, okay!"

Ahsoka felt short of breath but she hadn't been running long enough to be winded. "We need more troopers to help us. Everyone needs to stop what they're doing and search before he gets out."

"Cadet, get back here!"

Ahsoka saw a flash of brown haloed by gray at the opposite end of the hall, closely followed by an annoyed Appo. She and Fives looked at one another, stunned, then bolted after them.

"Stop!" Ahsoka hollered, crashing and sliding around the corner like a three-legged ozaawi'igo on ice.

"Where is he even going?" Fives yelled from behind her.

How was she supposed to know? "Get back here!"

"Fuck you!" Boba ducked through a door on the right and Fives and Ahsoka crashed into Appo trying to follow him. The three ended up in a tangled pile of plastoid on the ground just in time to watch Boba's feet disappear inside the ceiling vent.

"Oh, come on," Ahsoka moaned.

Appo gave her an exasperated look. "Do you know why there's a cadet running around the barracks?" he asked her dryly.

"The Commander adopted him," Fives supplied.

Ahsoka untwisted Fives' leg from around her torso. "He's not a cadet, he's Boba Fett, and I'm his legal guardian."

Appo's aura flared in sour orange anger-annoyance. "Boba Fett? The vod'kyramud?"

Ahsoka got to her feet and helped the two troopers up to theirs. "Please don't call him that."

"It's what he is," Appo said coldly.

She sighed. "Come on, vod. He's just a little kid. He was used."

Appo met her eyes with a measured look. "He's older than me," he said dryly. "Follow me. The closest opening big enough for him to crawl out of is in the laundry."

He wasn't in the laundry, and then he wasn't in the mess, and after they'd jogged behind Appo to the weight room Fives had to hold Ahsoka's hands away from her lekku because they were starting to bruise with how much she was nervously squeezing them.

"Commander, I've seen you less on edge surrounded by destroyers," Fives said desperately. "Why are you so upset?"

"Besides the fact that if he gets out I allowed a convicted terrorist to escape onto Coruscant?" Ahsoka said, reaching for her lek again.

Fives slapped her hand down. "Yes, besides that."

"I also don't want anything to happen to him!"

"Nobody's gonna hurt him," Appo called back, more annoyed than ever. His aura had gone practically neon chartreuse with it. "Not much, anyway, but–"

"Looking for something?"

Ahsoka tripped over her own feet and would have fallen if Fives didn't have a hold of her hand. "Rex," she breathed in relief. He strode up to them with a bemused expression, holding a squirming, hissing Boba under one arm.

"Come on, you said you were gonna get me out of here!" Boba whined. His nose scrunched up in the universal expression of Fett annoyance, his aura gone chartreuse to match.

"I did get you out of there," Rex said, shaking him gently.

"Asshole," Boba said sullenly.

"Found this one stuck behind the fridge in the officer's lounge," Rex said, his aura dancing with golden humor.

"Trash compactor's just down the hall," Appo deadpanned.

"Very funny." Rex shook Boba again. "I'm going to put you down now. If you run, you're getting a stunner bolt to the shebs, 'lek?"

Boba growled like an angry kitten. " 'lek, Tiarek."

Ahsoka frowned. She was fairly fluent in Mando'a, but she didn't know what that word meant and she didn't want to ask in front of Boba. He'd definitely make fun of her.

"Oi." Rex swung him forward so he could stand up and kept a firm hand on his shoulder. "What'd I say about that?"

Boba rolled his eyes. "Okay, Rex," he said in a mocking tone.

Ahsoka tried not to let her confusion show on her face. Was Tiarek a nickname? She couldn't for the life of her understand the dynamic between the two. Rex had said he'd stayed at the Prime's side for a few weeks and had then been reassigned to Cody's batch, but Boba had willingly left his hiding spot at Rex's request. To her, that spoke to a level of trust that went above a temporary childhood playmate that he had stopped from getting beaten up a few times.

She'd have to figure it out later. "We need to go see Kix," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "At least get some bacta on that shiner."

Boba glared at her and then the ground. "I'm fine," he grunted.

"Nuh uh." Ahsoka gave Rex a soft smile and clamped her hand down on Boba's other shoulder. "Come on. And trust me, as someone who's gotten a stunner to the shebs more than once, you definitely don't want to try to run again."

" – then she had the nerve to say "Oh, I do hope the Council doesn't censure Master Kenobi too harshly for failing to report egregious abuse of a child.' Egregious, Cody. She said egregious."

"That's awful, Sir," Cody said, his eyes flicking back and forth across the datapad he was holding.

"Then I tried to speak to her outside of the chamber because I actually have a modicum of propriety and was not about to involve the entire Council in our personal dispute, and she just… kept at it! Kept acting like a child!"

Cody didn't look up from his reports. "Oh, no."

"She went to leave and yes, I grabbed her arm but I was not rough, then she hissed at me."

Cody's eye twitched. "Wow."

"Something's clearly wrong with her arm, but of course I didn't feel as though I could even ask. She's being so churlish. I expected better of her."

"Yep."

Obi-Wan stopped his pacing and glanced down at Cody, who'd dekitted and was sitting on the most treasured artifact of the 212th's barracks; a neon-orange divan that was less of a sofa and more of a wad of perfectly round pillows that had been sewn together in the shape of a couch. Senator Amidala had graciously donated it. She'd ordered the ugly sofa in a fit of whimsy, intending it for her office, but once it arrived she had immediately decided that she hated it and had asked Obi-Wan if he had any ideas on what to do with it.

The men loved it. It could fit at least ten of them at one time, and although it was in the third-floor officer's lounge it wasn't uncommon to find a pile of privates on it snoozing together after a shift.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, centered himself, and released his frustration to the Force. Poor Cody didn't deserve to have his ear wagged off like this. "I apologize, Commander," he said sincerely, taking a seat beside him. "I'm being terribly droll, aren't I?"

"Not at all, Sir," Cody said calmly. "Ah– when does General Skywalker return from Toydaria?"

"He'll be available for me to whine at late tomorrow morning," Obi-Wan replied with a small smile.

Cody's lips twitched. "Good to know."

Obi-Wan huffed a small laugh, pinched the bridge of his nose, and tried not to scratch his stubble. He was starting to develop some rather obvious red lines on the back of his head.

"But I think you're going to have to make it right with her, General. Saying 'sorry' isn't going to cut it in this case."

"Oh, not you too," Obi-Wan said in dismay. "Come, now, I need at least one person on my side."

"I'm always on your side, General," Cody said mildly, still reading.

He was, wasn't he? Obi-Wan had so much appreciation for his Marshall Commander and the gracious way he'd handled the operation. Instead of being bitter and holding a grudge like his Padawans, Cody had simply told him that he was glad to see him on his feet but he'd appreciate being invited to the funeral next time.

He was a good man.

"But remember, Commander Tano is a sixteen-year-old girl who watched one of her favorite people die in her arms," Cody continued. "You can't really blame her for being upset."

"I don't blame her for being upset," Obi-Wan immediately replied. "I would have been concerned had she not been upset. What I will not tolerate is spiteful retribution."

"What do you mean, Sir?"

Obi-Wan gave an exasperated sigh. "I know you're multitasking, Commander, but did you hear anything I said?"

"Every word," Cody replied. "I'm not sure what retribution you're referring to, is all. Besides the 'egregious' dig, obviously, that was a little… dalgaanyc."

"She adopted a child, Cody!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "She took legal responsibility for Boba Fett because of it! She brought it to the Council, and now Master Plo is involved–"

"You think she did all of that to spite you?" Cody said, finally looking up from his datapad. He put the thing down, rubbed his eyes, and slid down further into the cushions of the ugly divan. "Sir, that's… no. That's not why she did it."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "Why else–"

"Because Rex asked her to," Cody said dryly. "And because it was the right thing to do."

Obi-Wan blinked. "Oh."

"Yep." Cody picked up the datapad again, shaking his head.

"But why would Rex care about Boba Fett?" Obi-Wan asked.

Cody's lips pursed. "It's… a long story."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Well, as I said, Anakin doesn't return until tomorrow morning."

Cody looked up, thought for a moment, then having seemingly come to a decision, gave Obi-Wan a conspiratorial smirk. "That you did." He tossed the datapad aside and gave Obi-Wan a familiar clap on the knee. "Alright. Let's move this to my office. If you wouldn't mind getting a pot of caf, Sir, I'll meet you there with the tihaar. I wasn't joking. This is a long story."

"But this monstrosity is quite comfortable," Obi-Wan said, wiggling a little with a smile. "I'm loath to abandon it for an office chair."

"You can either get the lore in my office or not at all, Sir." Cody gave him one last grin before sliding open the door to the lounge. "Respectfully, of course."

"If you insist, Commander." Obi-Wan heaved himself up and headed down to the mess hall to retrieve a pot of caf for Cody, some hot water for himself to make tea, and a handful of chocolate biscuits from the vending droid for the two to share.

Gossip always did taste the best when chased with chocolate.

Scran acquired, he made his way to Cody's office to find the Commander already there, comfortably sprawled in his desk chair. He gestured to his neatly-made rack after relieving Obi-Wan of the pot of caf.

"Now," Cody began, pouring it into a mug that he'd already dosed with a shot of tihaar, "Obviously, Sir, I'm trusting that what I'm about to tell you will not leave this room."

"Alright," Obi-Wan said, bemused. He took a seat and handed the man a chocolate biscuit, which was received with a gracious grin.

Cody took a bite, chased it with his mug of caf, then swallowed hard. "I suppose the first thing I should tell you is what happened to Rex's original batch. He believes that they died in a training accident."

Obi-Wan's brows went up. "They didn't?"

Cody shook his head grimly. "Nope."

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan murmured to himself. "I'm afraid to even ask."

The good humor left Cody's eyes. "The Kaminoans used to be a lot more selective when it came to… shall we say, phenotypic variations."

"The hair?" Obi-Wan's brows went up even higher.

"The hair." Cody took another sip. "His whole batch was euthanized except for him. Not because of any special reason, he was just the last one in line. One of the Cuy'val Dar charged in and snatched him right off of a lab table with a needle in his neck. She stabbed one of the Kaminoans with it, from what I heard, though I don't know if that's actually true."

Obi-Wan, who'd been about to pour himself some hot water for tea, held his mug out for a nip of tihaar instead. If that was how the story started, then tea wasn't going to be enough.

The bacta gel that Rex's medic had massaged over Boba's ribs and face smelled like ass. He couldn't get it out of his nose, even now that he was in Koon's open-air speeder again.

"So, Boba, how did you enjoy the barracks?" Koon asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.

Tano was seated on his left with her wrist cuffed to his so he couldn't run off again. She snorted derisively. "He certainly got a good tour of the ventilation shafts," she said, looking at him out of the corner of her giant eye.

"So I heard." Koon signaled, then eased onto an exit ramp. "Well done in retrieving him."

"She didn't," Boba said mildly. "Rex did."

Tano's eyes flicked over to him.

"It is a good thing that Rex was there, then." Koon merged into a speederlane. They were in an industrial zone, now.

"I thought we were going to go eat," Boba said warily. "The fuck are we doing in CoCo town?"

Tano stilled and looked out over the side, then glared at Koon. "Good question," she said, and the chill in her voice could have frozen tibanna.

Koon glanced back, unbothered. "What's wrong? I thought that you were quite fond of Dex's diner."

Tano didn't back down. "Is he going to be there?" she asked, still frosty.

"Who?" Koon hummed and parked the PL-90 in the lot behind a janky old shitbox of a diner. It was the newest speeder there by at least twenty years.

Boba had to wonder how well being a Jedi paid.

"I believe you know who I'm referring to, Master," Tano said bitchily.

"Oh, Master Kenobi?" Koon asked, turning to her. "I don't believe he is here, but as your bond with him is much stronger than mine, I think that you would sense his presence easier than I."

"Kenobi?" Boba growled. Fuck, if he never heard that name again it would be too soon. Kenobi wasn't the one who swung the jetii'kad, but he was the cunt who kickstarted everything that ended with Dad rotting with his beskar'gam scattered to who the fuck knew where. Of course the stupid tailhead knew him. Boba knew how to break his thumb and get out of cuffs, it was just a matter of getting a head start on the bitch.

"Yeah, Kenobi," she said, waving her hand dismissively at him. "You didn't invite him, did you Master Plo?"

"No, I did not." Koon let himself out of the speeder and held her door open for her. "Now come. Let us have a nice, hearty meal. I'm sure young Boba would prefer that to the rations of the barracks."

"Prison food was better," Boba snipped.

"Stop complaining." Tano yanked him forward.

"Has the novelty of motherhood worn off so soon?" Koon asked, arranging his weird face in what Boba assumed was a smirk.

Tano snorted. "I've spent my entire apprenticeship around soldiers, and I've heard the forn-word more in the last three hours than I have in almost three years."

"I agree that imprisonment has certainly affected his manners." Koon opened the door to the diner for Boba and his Tog escort.

"Oh, fuck off," Boba grumbled as he passed him. "It's just words. If they scare you that fucking much then go meditate about waterfalls, or stealing babies, or whatever it is you cunts think about so you don't start blowing up shit with your brains when you get mad."

Tano and Plo exchanged bewildered looks. "When we what?" she asked faintly.

The diner wasn't slow, but it wasn't as packed as Boba expected for a grubhouse conveniently located in the center of a dozen different factories. Most of the diners had on brown jumpsuits with the logo of a rubber sealant company, tight enough around the leg to where Boba could see the outline of knives strapped to a few legs. There was a lone, stunner-armed, Mirialan security guard for a bank nursing a cup of caf at the counter. The rest were various flavors of unemployed, two armed with blasters and one with a baton, but Boba was around ninety-percent sure that the Weequay in the center booth snoring into a plate of scrambled nuna eggs had once been part of Hondo Ohnaka's crew.

"Hey there, how can I–" A waitress bot zoomed up to them and stopped dead, then turned towards the kitchen. "Honey! Obi-Wan's kid is here. She brought some friends."

Tano's stripes flushed black and Boba could have sworn that he heard a growl come out of her.

"Ahsoka!" An obese Besalisk in a grease-stained white apron waddled out from swinging kitchen doors. "Aw, no Obi-Wan today?"

"No," Tano said with a tight smile. "Dexter Jettser, may I introduce Jedi Master Plo Koon and, ah–" Tano glanced down at him and she paused. "Initiate Robert."

Boba stared at her with his mouth open a little. Robert?

"Well, tell that old hound I said hello. Good to meet you two. FLO will get you some menus and drinks. Sit anywhere you want, you know how it goes here." The Besalisk gave her a fond pat on the back and waddled back towards the kitchen. "I'll get your usual started. It takes a minute to get your sauce boiling."

Tano smiled a little and ducked her head. "Thanks, Dex. Come on, Robert." She tugged on his wrist like he was on a leash and pulled him over to a booth, Koon on their tails.

"Here you go, sweeties." FLO tossed some menus down and deposited three cups of plain fizz in front of them once they were seated. "Got dewberry, citron, and vanilla."

"I am happy with plain, thank you." Plo nodded his head at her.

"Dewberry, please." Tano smiled at the droid as she turned her fizz pink, then gave Boba a pointed glare eerily similar to Tiarek's. It said very clearly, behave.

"Citron," Boba said politely.

Tano kept an eye on him as FLO flavored his drink then zoomed off. "Thank you for not cursing at Flo," she said, then took a sip of her drink. She shivered and smiled. "I'm glad Kix isn't here. He never lets me get flavors. Too much sugar."

"I'm aware," Koon said wryly. "I believe in allowing one to make their own choices, and in letting them learn from the consequences of choosing poorly on purpose."

Tano glanced down at her drink, sighed, then switched glasses with Koon.

He worked the straw under his mask and took a pleased sip. "I do enjoy dewberry."

Tano shook her head then looked at Boba. "What did you mean with the 'stealing babies' comment?" she asked.

"That's what you do, isn't it?" Boba chugged half of his fizz and belched like a foghorn. "Go around to planets and steal babies and teach them magic so they can go out and steal more babies for you."

Tano's jaw hung open in shock. "Who… who told you that pile of bantha poodoo?"

Boba shrugged. "Dad. And Kal."

"Kal?"

"Kal Skirata." Boba spun his finger in his drink and licked it. "One of the Cuy'val Dar. Wouldn't suggest trying to dump me on him, though, only thing he gives a shit about are his fucking Nulls." Did he sound bitter?

Tano bit her lip. "Well, we don't steal babies. That's ridiculous. Most of the time their parents are the ones who contact the Jedi in the first place."

"Indeed. Such was the case with Ahsoka's mother." Koon steepled his talons. "I was the one who retrieved her, in fact."

"Emphasis on retrieved. He didn't steal me."

Boba almost felt bad for the Tog, but if her own mother didn't want her then it was probably better that the jetiise had raised her instead. Pity a Mando hadn't found her. She had spunk, even if she was annoying, and Tiarek obviously liked her well enough. He still didn't trust her, but she wasn't a total piece of shit. "Whatever." Boba peered down at the menu. "What's the most expensive thing they have?"

Koon laughed. "Luckily for us, Jedi eat free at Dex's diner."

Boba snorted. "Cheap-ass."

Koon sipped his drink again. "I would have gladly paid at another establishment, young man. I generally decline my stipend, though I will admit as of late to accepting it to use on the boys. I hate to see them only ever eat ration bars." Koon's face softened with a smile.

"You spend your stipend on snacks for the 104th?" Tano grinned. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"Spent some of it on that little number probably getting gutted behind the building right now, too," Boba muttered, reading through the burger selection.

"That belongs to the Temple, Initiate Robert."

Tano clapped a hand over her mouth to contain her laugh.

Boba glared at him then looked back down. "How'd the Temple get a PL-90?"

"If I recall correctly, I believe that one belonged to Ziro the Hutt's collection."

"Alright, what are we in the mood for?" FLO started speaking before she arrived, then she braked hard and spun in front of their table. She held a hand up in front of the Tog's face. "Dex is still searing your garbage plate."

Boba snorted. "Garbage plate?"

"Thick strips of bantha meat, ground roba, and grilled nuna nuggets, plus a whole pile of over-easy eggs." Tano sighed dreamily. "And Dex covers it in his awesome red sauce."

"It looks like ten different plates scraped into the trash," FLO quipped. "Whaddaya want, Robert?"

Boba felt his cheeks burn hot. Fucking Robert. At least the Tog had been smart enough to not yell his name in public, but seriously, Robert? "Banzaii burger with white sauce and extra peppers, rings extra well-done."

Beside him, Tano choked on her fizz for some reason.

"I will take a double portion of steamed bamboo worms, please, with the bam-bam sauce on the side." Koon handed FLO their menus and she zoomed off. He withdrew a small pouch from his robes, removed his mask, and tipped a handful of pebbles into his weird mouth.

Boba suddenly spied a claw game machine over the Kel Dor's shoulder tucked against the back wall. Tano followed his line of sight and started rustling around in her pockets. "Wanna play?" she asked, cocking her head with a little smile.

Well he did, but now if he said yes it would seem like it was because she'd suggested it.

"What if I take off the cuffs?" she suddenly offered, much to Boba's surprise. "Promise not to run?"

Boba shrugged. "You were easy to slip. I don't think Grandpa here will be such a fucking pushover." Also, he was hungry.

"Correct," Koon said, pleased as a po'ackster.

"Then fine." He let Tano uncuff him and she stood to let him out.

"Good luck." She handed him a credit chit. "I don't know how much the game is, but there's ten credits on it."

Boba spied a rancor plushie sitting pretty on top of a pile of porgs. He inserted Tano's credit chit and started to play.

"I was surprised at your reaction, little 'Soka," Koon said. Boba turned his ear towards them as he moved the joystick.

"Reaction to what?"

"My choice of dining establishment."

"Oh. Right. I'm sorry, Master Plo, that was rude of me."

Boba snorted and rolled his eyes. She really was a prim little princess, wasn't she?

"If Master Kenobi had been present, what would you have done?"

Boba dropped the claw on the rancor and picked it up on the first try.

"Skipped dinner," Tano said sullenly.

"Oh Ahsoka, why can you not find it in your heart to forgive him? You must let go of your resentment."

The rancor plushie fell from the claw after a random jerk. "Cheating piece of shit," Boba growled. He slapped the button for a new game, but kept his ears open. Tano wasn't on good terms with Kenobi, eh? Well, he could use that somehow, he'd figure something out.

"I have forgiven him."

"Lying does not become you, my dear."

"I'm not–"

The rancor fell again. Boba smacked the machine and started over.

"It's not just about what he did to me," Tano said quietly. "He destroyed Anakin and he doesn't even care. He just expects us to all go on like he didn't completely flip our world upside down. He said he was 'sorry for causing so much distress,' like distress even comes close to describing it." Tano stared out of the booth's window. "Please don't scold me for my attachment. I had let him go. I had taken comfort in the belief that he was in the Force around me and would always be with me. What I can't stand is the cold callousness of using our grief as his cover, then expecting things to just return as they were before."

"Ahsoka, I would like to meditate on this with you when we have a moment."

"I'd appreciate that, Master."

Boba restarted the game for the fifth time, very close to punching his way through the glass. He picked the rancor up, carefully manipulated it to the edge, it was almost there–

The fucking thing jerked and the rancor fell, but then it bounced unnaturally high off of the head of a raxshir plushie and went over the edge of the chute. Boba whipped his head around.

Tano winked at him and took a sip of his citron fizz.

Notes:

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS Voy entye, vod'ika: Thank you, little sister dalgaanyc: bitchy Jetii'kad: lightsaber Beskar'gam: armor OTHER NOTES I'm using koh-to-yah as both hello and goodbye, yes 🤘 Yirt: Aurebesh equivalent of Y, but the letter itself is shaped like a V with a little hat lol Introducing Robert Fett Kel Dors are insectivores because I said so, and he has no teeth and a crop like a bird, so the pebbles are how he 'chews' his food.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @soliloquy-of-nemo Dividers: @saradika-graphics

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bethanydelleman · 1 year

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Jane Austen Charted #12

Myth: Jane Austen’s novels all take place over a year.

Truth: Only Pride & Prejudice takes place over a year.

Here is the number of months that the Main Action of each novel takes (with two different counts for S&S):

Now, we can quibble about when exactly the main action is, but I think I used some sensible start and end points, summarized here:

I was a little stuck on Sense and Sensibility because I think you can argue that the first six months are kind of prologue, not main action. But either way, it doesn’t add up to a year. I’ve presented both options. The most generous estimate would be about 2.5 years, which would be the initial six months at Norland, and then ending with Marianne marrying Colonel Brandon two years after she met him at Barton. Whichever way you count it, it never adds up to a year.

If we count everything that happens, then the time spans can get much longer and not year-like. Mansfield Park has dialogue from when Fanny is a child, so that book could be easily judged as taking at least 8 years, probably longer if we account for how long it took for Edmund to move on from Mary and start to notice Fanny. Northanger Abbey begins when Catherine is a small child, though we only have a single line of dialogue (quoted speech seems to separate prologue from action in my head) and it’s part of a paragraph.

Pride and Prejudice does take exactly a year, and the end statements are actually neatly partitioned into an epilogue. Emma is a close second, beginning in autumn and ending in either August or November of the next year, but it doesn’t quite fit. The novel begins on a fall evening, at the end, Emma worries about the coming fall, but the fall has not come yet when Knightley proposes.

Persuasion is unique in that we have the author give us real years and dates as well as some very strong anchor points to the story. It begins when the navy are returning from war, having defeated and banished Napoleon, and it ends almost exactly when Napoleon escapes from Elba (Feb 26, 1815).

To Sum Up: we can quibble about how exactly to count the length of time from the beginning to the ending of each narrative, but only P&P takes exactly a year. None of the other novels fit all their action into a twelve-month.

#jane austen charted #I used all the calendar websites again #see charted 11 for the citations #pride and prejudice #mansfield Park #northanger abbey #jane austen #sense and sensibility #emma #persuasion #Jane Austen loves starting things at Michaelmas or near it #not sure why she loves September so much

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supersaiyanjedi14 · 9 months

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Okay last night I was feeling mean, so let's rectify it with something nicer!

Sabezra wedding pictures per my AU!

In my setting, Ezra and Sabine have two weddings. The first is a traditional Mandalorian ceremony that keeps things contained to themselves, shortly after which Ezra is formally adopted into Clan Wren and recieves his own armor. The second is a more conventional wedding with just about everyone and their mother invited (appropriate for two war heroes) that they both acknowledge is more of a formality that gives everyone an excuse for a great big party.

(I fully concede that this was partially inspired by Luke and Mara having two separate ceremonies back in Legends)

Some details under the cut;

Big event takes place in late 7 ABY, shortly after the New Republic captures Coruscant.

The Mandalorian ceremony took place between the two of them on the eve of the battle, though the outbreak of the Krytos virus kept them tied up for several months before they were able to make the journey to Krownest. This turned out for the best as it gave Tristan plenty of time to forge Ezra's new armor.

After talking it out, they decided to go ahead with the more contemporary wedding for the sake of their friends and allies, as well as exploiting the fact that, with the New Republic in power, they have the structure to do something like that.

The wedding takes place at the Sumar farm on Lothal, Marida practically giddy to host the event.

The groomsmen (seen above) were Zeb Orelios (Best Man), Tristan Wren, and Luke Skywalker*

The bridesmaids (also above) were Princess Leia Organa (Maid of Honor), Ketsu Onyo, and Moreena Krai (a close friend of Ezra's from Lothal in a tie-in book).

Ryder Azadi officiates, Chopper takes up the role of ringbearer.

In this AU, Ursa and Alrich have unfortunately died at this point, so it is Kanan (who is not dead coincidently) who walks the bride down the aisle, albeit with a full Clan Wren honor guard.

Their rings are forged from a beskar/electrum alloy, Sabine's fitted with a small Lothal fire ruby.

Highlights of the reception included a heartfelt, tear-inducing speech from Hera, Zare Leonis and Jai Kell hoisting the groom onto their shoulders and parading him around, Artoo and Chopper stealing a couple of glasses just so they could make a toast, and Fenn Shysa leading the Mandalorians in attendance in song to honor the bride.

The biggest highlight of all, however, is when it comes time for the bouquet and garter. Seeing as the bride and groom are a Mandalorian warrior and a Jedi Knight respectively, they're not just going to throw these things away. You want them? You have to fight for them.

Hence, the dance floor becomes a battleground. Sabine even specifically tailored her dress so that the skirt could break away into something more manageable. One by one, the bachelors and bachelorettes stepped up to try their luck, and each found themselves flat on their backs in short order. As it's all in good fun, nobody is actually hurt, though Wedge and Hobbie do have to drag a dazed Tristan away after his new brother-in-law throws him several yards. Everyone else thought it was hilarious.

After about twelve different ladies try and fail, Leia finally pins Sabine and claims the bouquet. Needless to say, the knowing smirk she throws Han causes more than a few chuckles (by sheer coincidence, Han and Leia's wedding takes place within the year)

Eleven strapping gentlemen try and fail to get the garter, everyone stops to state at Ezra's next challenger; a dirty blonde ex-farmhand from Tatooine. Deciding to give the other guests a show, Ezra and Luke decide to forgo the wrestling match everyone else had tried at this point and whip out the lightsabers.

Despite Threepio and AP-5's indignant protests due to the sheer state of ruin their formal wear will be in, the assembled guests are treated to a spectacular lightsaber duel that becomes even more crazy when Zeb and Lando start a betting pool. Hera is initially also exasperated, but her complaints fall off once she notices Mon Mothma quietly putting ten credits on Luke.

Finally, after a solid ten minutes of slashing, with their suits reduced to charred shreds, Ezra is finally forced to concede to Jedi Skywalker. When Ezra apologizes to his bride for the state of disrepair he is now in, Sabine simply shuts him up with a kiss.

The entire event wraps up with a phenomenal fireworks display, which Sabine will cite for years to come as her finest work.

After all that excitement, Ezra and Sabine leave for a much-needed two-week honeymoon at a lake house on one of Lothal's inland seas. No work, no adventures, just themselves and time to relax.

*The big crux of this AU is the Ghost crew being part of the OT and onward. During this time, the two groups of protags become super close, with Ezra and Luke especially becoming close friends (in no small part to the whole Jedi deal).

(Microheroes built from templates by cptmeatman, SpectorKnight,the-collector-13, and any others I cannot remember)

#star wars #star wars au #my pixels #sabezra #ezra bridger #sabine wren #zeb orrelios #tristan wren #luke skywalker #leia organa #ketsu onyo #moreena krai #longer post #but i needed some fluff

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someoneintheshadow456 · 1 year

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I never intended to make a VC4 log. I never intended to start playing VC4 until I finished VC2. I wanted to just get through it to see how it was because you apparently didn't need to play VC2-3 to play this one.

But dear GOD.

The gameplay is much more challenging, and there's WAY more things to do here. I've had to look at guides for most of the levels, just like VC1 except I wasn't running around screaming. Siegval Line is the only level where I got a B... God that chapter was an absolute nightmare.

But the story and characters are much MUCH WORSE, and I thought VC2 was bad. VC1's mains were mostly pleasant but boring, and the most annoying ones - Largo and Rosie, wise up at the end (plus Rosie's anime incarnation is MUCH better than her game counterpart). VC2 took place in cadet school, so you knew with those mains not to expect too much.

VC4's mains however, with the exception of Leela, range from mildly annoying to straight up making me want to throw my joycons across the room.

Riley blames Claude for running away from the fire that killed her family... when they were literally both TWELVE. TF was Claude supposed to do?! Apparently he's a coward for... *checks notes* behaving like how any 12 year old would in a deadly situation.

Raz should have gotten court marshaled a LONG time ago but he's able to get away with all this shit because he's besties with the commander. But apparently shit like this actually happens in the real military, so... points for accuracy?

The OG Kai is so obviously working with the Imps they may as well have hung a signboard over his head saying "I'M EVIL." I'm shocked that the writing team thought that they could fool us about why he deserted when even a five year old can figure out why.

Claude gets blamed for literally every fucking thing but you can't even feel too bad for him because of how much of a Gary Stu he is. Characters can be shit talking him to his face and our uwu golden boi just takes it in stride and gets promoted just for breathing. Even Welkin had moments where his emotions got the best of him and had to LEARN shit throughout the story. Claude gets NONE of that.

Even the VILLAINS are less interesting this time around. The only one we have seen so far is a cheap copy of General Jaeger. In VC1 by this time, we already saw the main villains, but it's Chapter 7 and they still haven't shown up.

But the worst character of all, and the one who prompted me to make this post, is Minerva. At first, she just hated Claude for petty middle school BS reasons, and I hoped to GOD she would get some character development.

But the moment she blamed Claude for her girlfriend's death was the point when she crossed over from "annoying bitch" territory to "joycons flying across the room" territory.

My dude, my guy, YOU sent him on that mission. YOU gave the go-ahead for him to ambush a supply base. And you fault him for not being at his post when your squad got decimated... when you TOLD him to do so?! And why do I have the feeling that if your pwecious cwystal made it out unscathed, no fucks would be given from you?

Your pretty speech about how you want to set aside your pride and fight with Squad E means JACK SHIT if you continue to blame Claude when he was JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS. As though he wasn't fighting, as though he was just sitting around having tea while tanks were crushing you. I know it's still early in the game, but I have ZERO hopes for you if you continue to be this bad.

Congratulations, Minerva. You just dethroned Maxie for worst character in the VC universe. I hope you're happy.

#valkyria chronicles 4 #vc4 #the gameplay = YES #the story = NO #the characters = HELL NO #and oh yeah that's right I went there #at least Maxie was SUPPOSED to be a wifebeating narcissist!#Minerva was intended to be sympathetic!#what jackasses were on the writing team this time around?!#FUCK YOU MINERVA FUCK YOU #CLAUDE DID NOT KILL YOUR GF YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUT THE IMPS DID!#imps please just crush these idiots already...

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stoupax · 2 years

Photo

a character reference sheet for Tav, my chaotic neutral Baldur’s Gate 3 protag. I don’t even have a fancy first or last name for him... just the default “Tav” has felt fitting since I fell into the hellhole of Early Access. he’s a rogue with the thief subclass, but I usually choose magic initiate: druid as a feat so he can have a wee bit more magic and, most importantly, beast speech, so he can talk with Scratch the dog, and Nudge the owlbear cub (and get the hot goss from other critters). I also play Tav in an Eberron 5e campaign, in which his subclass is arcane trickster.

7/30/22 edit: I’ve given him the last name Fenway because just “Tav” was getting chaotic (which suits him but I like to be organized)

some #backstory under the cut!

(cw: domestic violence)

Tav was born and raised in Baldur’s Gate. he is his human mother Flissa’s second child, by a high elf man she either cannot or will not name. her human husband Garrick was not happy about this, but he wasn’t particularly happy when he thought the expected baby was his anyway, so this was never going to be a great family dynamic. Flissa and Garrick’s marriage has always been turbulent and mutually abusive. Tav’s older half-sister, Yora, is ten years his senior, and when she was fourteen, she left home without saying goodbye.

Garrick was a sailor, Flissa was a professional swindler. Tav had special roles in Flissa’s various street grifts, and thought of it as a game, until he was old enough to understand how destitute they actually were. he became good at pickpocketing on his own, which Flissa also took advantage of. it was very easy to pretend being a hungry little urchin, because he was. it was easy for them both to pretend they were battered, because they were. Tav’s parents were not responsible spenders; thank goodness he could go to public school for free when Flissa didn’t want to keep track of him on the street.

when Tav was twelve, there was a massive fire in the tenement building his family lived in, in Brampton of the Lower City. it happened in the middle of the night, when most were sleeping. the fire was mostly contained to the one building, but nonetheless devastating. Flissa got herself out quickly. Garrick was much slower to react to the rapidly escalating situation, and Tav was, well, a very frightened kid who was more or less abandoned. it’s hard for Tav to remember exactly, but the way he understands the course of that night is: he was navigating through smoke and flame down a corridor, when his step-father bowled him over to rush out. Tav was able to get onto his feet again, despite injuries and actively burning. he was resuming his own escape when Garrick got himself trapped under falling beams and debris. Garrick called out to him, but Tav kept running. the rest is a blur; he has vague memories of waking up in the Harborside Hospital, covered in burns, being treated by various healers, neighbors in the cots around him. an unusually charitable cleric at this hospital made it possible for Tav to leave without a hefty bill, healthy but for the scarring on his legs, which had taken the most burn damage. he was reunited with Flissa. Garrick never got out.

Tav’s relationship with Flissa was at its best after the fire, but still not good. the back and forth between “work with me today,” and “go to school or anywhere else, I don’t want to see you” was exhausting for him. he often argued to “work” with her or skipped school to do his own “work,” or else he wouldn’t see any coin or a sufficient meal that day. he started stashing his own money and thinking of taking a page from Yora’s book.

at sixteen, Tav did leave, after an emotional blowout and physical altercation with his mother. he unintentionally concussed Flissa, and while she sat dazed on the floor of their small apartment, he gathered his money, the money of hers that he could find, and simply walked out the door. Tav maintains that the short stint of homelessness that followed was entirely worth it. no more fists bearing down on him, no more yelling, independence. the same old pickpocketing, stealing, and conning (on different streets than his mother’s ‘stomping grounds’) helped him get by until a Guild member offered to recruit him for an up and coming kingpin.

at the start of Baldur’s Gate 3, Tav is 26 years old. he’s been a professional spy under the codename/psued “Locke” for several years now, working for an information broker who mostly deals with pettier nobles trying to bring down other petty nobles. it’s an easy job, people-watching and stealing information; he’s good at it, well paid for it. he doesn’t need to pick pockets or steal trinkets anymore, but old habits die hard, and he sees it almost as a fun little game to himself; he likes to see how much he can get away with before anybody suspects something. he boasts never having had guards or any Flaming Fist come after him, even without Guild protection. he has a small apartment on the third floor of a decent boarding house in the Seatower neighborhood of the Lower City, and that is where he was walking to when the mindflayers’ nautiloid swept over the city.

you can look at his generic tag here, or artwork of him here.

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harrison-abbott · 4 months

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teens die in a lake tragedy

My elder sister and her boyfriend drowned in a lake when I was little. We were staying in a holiday cottage by the lake and there was a rowing boat that the visitors could take out for leisure. The boyfriend was confident with the oars and he rowed out way too far into the expanse of the lake … and nobody knows quite how they drowned because they were too far away to see it. They would be me, my mother and father and my cousin. We were all in the house when it happened. And my mother started to panic when it got to twilight and the daughter and boyfriend hadn’t come back to shore yet. So they stood on the crags outside the cottage looking onto the lake and father got his binoculars out. He could not see anything through the lenses. When it got to the night mother called the police. Bearing in mind that this cottage was 35 miles from the nearest police station and therefore it took a whole other chunk of time before the officers got to the cottage.

I remember the distilled sense in the cottage whilst we waited for my elder sister and her boyfriend to miraculously show up in the little harbour under the cottage crags. There would be a light on the lake. Or something cinematic like that. And they would both be still alive … Mother kept pacing about the corridors with her furious little feet, and Dad kept smoking cigarettes, and my cousin kept boiling the kettle to make cups of tea.

My elder sister was horrible to me for as long as I could remember and I have very few happy memories of her. She used to tug my hair and nip my skin and she would revel in being seven years older and she made fun of my ugly face because she was way prettier. That’s why she had the boyfriend, who drowned in the lake with her. I remember seeing his photo in the news – a pearly mugshot of him, and it didn’t look like how I recall him from real life. My sister would ridicule my chubby nose and the twitch I couldn’t control in my eyes and my big ears that protruded from my forehead. He scoffed and scoffed. I didn’t see his body when it was pulled up from the lake. But I was in the cottage, still, when this shrieking from my mother arose out of the blue outside. That was in the morning when it was sunny. When you go that far north you become aware of how silent the world actually can be when there aren’t many people around. Mother screamed. She did that a lot anyway but the volume of her now was far more crass. Hmm. They pulled my sister out of the lake twelve hours after they did him. On the same news article entitled TEENS DIE IN LAKE TRAGEDY I already knew that photo of her. And, yeah, she looked real pretty.

During the funeral for my sister there were many spilled tears and speeches about how much of an angel she was. I knew that she wasn’t the angel that they were speaking about, at all. Ever since she died my mother and father had barely spoken to me about it. They hadn’t even touched me. My mother got angry with me before the funeral because my school shoes, the only black shoes I had, had gotten too short, and she had to drive me into town to get a new pair. She was cross and blushed and curt the whole ordeal with getting me this new pair of shoes. And the drive back home was silent and then across the whole weekend and the funeral was on a Monday morning with lots of hot rain. I remember in the graveyard when they were lowering her body into the ground the rain pelted down on everybody present and lots of folks hadn’t bothered to bring umbrellas – and the folks that did have umbrellas suddenly became popular and they huddled under the roofs of them.

My mother and father split up shortly after all of this, if you consider ‘short’ in terms of years. I went to stay with my mother, of course. It’s almost always the mother rather than father, isn’t it. But then I got to puberty and she had always preferred my sister anyway and when the hormones of adolescence kicked in my mother couldn’t stand me anymore and she kicked me out of her house when I was fifteen and I have never seen her since.

#writeblr #creative writing #prose #writers on tumblr #stories #short fiction #tumblr writers #fiction #short story #flash fiction #spilled ink #spilled words

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aerialsquid · 8 months

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FFXIVWrite Day 20: Hamper

Not connected to earlier pieces. IDK, I was running with an idea I've been chewing on.

[Decoder Note (DN): Portions in brackets indicate data that is currently either lost or yet to be decoded.]

In the annals of known Eorzean history, there are few peoples who can truly be said to have no gods. One is the Empire of Garlemald, from whom many Garlond Ironworks members can trace their heritage. Our founder himself sprung from such godless roots, though in his later years he wrote that he would consider himself undecided on the existence of the Twelve, a matter which often brought him into heated arguments with Nero tol Scaeva.

And then there are the goblins. When so many gods are tied to their lands, perhaps it makes sense that the landless people are the ones who forsake the need for a patron deity. That is not to say they lack traditions and rituals, their culture is as rich as any other. They simply conduct their religion with the notable absence of an actual god to pray to.Their faith lies in their community, in their minds, and in what works their own hands create.

I myself descend from the people of Coerthas, three generations below a young man adopted by an aging Cato nan Mammulla after he fled one frigid homeland and took refuge in another. Cato was said to have commented in private that he never truly believed in Halone, but that when he prayed at Mass (as Halonic worship was mandatory for all citizens) he felt a stirring comfort in him that always eased his loneliness.

And it was in Coerthas as well, a little over two hundred years ago, that the goblins created their first and only god. The summoning of the primal Alexander, a god in the form of a massive machine, possessed of the unique ability to part the fabric of time and transcend the interdimensional rift. At the end of our road, weaving together the technology of the distant past with our own desperate leaps forward as the world burns around us, how ironic that we must finally turn to faith to save us.

Very specific, very targeted, and excruciatingly well planned faith.

The goblins present here in the Cornice are led by Blackbox Allthoughts, who herself is a descendent of Roundrox Cointoss, a young woman who personally encountered Alexander during its brief stay in our time. Blackbox leads the Reformed Illuminati, a splinter group of the goblin technology-hoarding cult that once sought to consolidate all knowledge under its grasp. The RI holds that knowledge should be both collected and dispersed - holds it as a sacred mission, though there is no divine authority that set them upon it.

Blackbox ascends the dias now, as engineers lay out the blueprints upon the floor of the Cornice. Her mask is decorated with colorful stones, artifacts passed down by her grandmother. They carry no market worth and never did, but as family heirlooms they are priceless. I believe Blackbox enjoys this paradox.

There is a saying among the goblins, [DN: As yet untranslated] that roughly can be understood as 'planting seeds by the roadside'. It means to put in work that you will not profit from, as you will be long gone by the time the seeds bloom. Sometimes this is said to indicate someone has wasted resources and acted foolishly.

I have translated Blackbox's words here into the common tongue to keep linguistic consistency, but a full transcription of her speech in gobbiespeak will be attached. [DN: Still working on the official transcription portion. Decoding gobbiespeak makes brainfruit achebad.]

"We are those who carry our homes on our backs. We are those whose faith is the faith of forge and hammer, of our calluses, of the wrinkles in our brains. We are the godless wanderers, the hoarders of knowledge like precious stones. I ask you, my friends, goblin folk and nongoblin folk, to do that which comes uneasy to we who walk through the lands of all gods and take none with us. I ask you to pray. Pray for the home which carries us. Pray for the one who will restore whole what was broken. My friends, my collected. Pray for our seeds by the roadside. Deliver a second chance to the world we shall never see."

We stand on our marked places in the chalk outlines on the floor. Where our arms allow, we hold hands. In our minds we fix the full diagram that we have spent weeks meditating upon alone and in groups, until we began to see its spires and gears in our sleep. In my years with the Ironworks I have seen machines create wonders, but a machine cannot create faith. And faith is the last step we need.

We pray our mantra. Seeds by the roadside. We hold fast the divine blueprints and we hold fast the hope that has kept us alive through the darkest of nights, and the walls of the Cornice ring with the sound of our devotion.

This is our last desperate gamble to create the impossible.

Before my eyes open, I know we have succeeded. I feel the warmth of its engines, I hear the chattering of its pistons and gears. Its wings, spread, block out the lights from the ceiling. It has no face, but I still feel it turn its gaze upon me with benevolence - many of my colleagues have fallen to their knees, and some are weeping.

The Tycoon, traverser of the interdimensional rift, most blessed among machines, the one to return history to its sacred course, lives. It lives by our hands.

#ffxivwrite2023

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pickledpascal · 9 months

Text

You're Not Alone in This World

Chapter Twelve

Warnings: a little bit of uncomfy flirting

Word Count: 5k

You're Not Alone in This World Masterlist

Previous Chapter |

Elijah Kamski.

The father of modern robotics. He created life from wires, plastic, and few different chemicals mixed together. A new form of blood. Blue, so humans would know the difference. In some ways, he was God. A few steps down from him, nearly the same level as Andrea.

Elijah was a smart man. But he was also lonely. Perhaps that's why he created androids, to make something that would never leave him. A partner that would always stay no matter how much they probably should have. Elijah wasn't the most… easy to get along with. After creating androids, his ego inflated to an exponential degree.

He was a genius. It was time everyone else knew. However, this isolated him more. Paranoia grew from seemingly nowhere.

People would use him, wouldn't they? To get funds, to get attention, to get anything they could from him. He wanted… no, needed, to isolate himself from all the attention he was getting. Spending a decade at the forefront of the public mind could do a lot to a person.

—---

2034, August 11th

Andrea Cartier was a fresh Lieutenant after being a plain old detective for several years prior. It wasn't hard to feel pride in herself, she knew she deserved it. Her record was clean and nearly any case that made its way to her desk was solved within the following days. Sometimes weeks, depending on how demanding the case was.

She attended the police banquet held in downtown Detroit. Unfortunately, Hank couldn't make it, considering the fact that he wanted to drink himself to near death in the privacy of his own home and not be surrounded by people who would likely detain him for it.

Hank was Andrea's best, and only, friend. So she was alone. Sure, she could talk to Tina and her wife but it wasn't the same. They didn't know her. Not really. Whatever. Andrea would do anything for free food.

She decided it might be best to wear some sort of dress to the event so she wore a black floor–length evening gown that hugged her body in all the right places. It was sleeveless so it showed off her tattooed arms. Perhaps a police event wasn't the best place to wear such a thing but Andrea didn't have many other formal clothes. She'd need to get more later on, especially if she decided to go to more events like these.

There were a few food tables, some with different sorts of drinks and small hor dourve trays around. Compared to everything else, the tea sandwiches seemed to be the most appetizing. So Andrea decided to simply eat those. She barely paid attention to the actual ceremony. Occasionally, she'd listen to some speeches being made by people who were giving thanks or something of the sort to others in the audience or people who couldn't be there to celebrate with them.

Like Hank.

Distracted by the sandwiches, Andrea thought about Hank. He was like a father to her. Which was saying something because she was far older than him. Hank just… had that fatherly feeling. He'd worry about her but was strict on how she shouldn't worry about him. It was a strange dichotomy—their relationship. For someone like Andrea to take a liking to Hank, it took a lot. Thankfully, they had a lot of time together—considering the fact that they worked together nearly every day.

"Hello…" Said a masculine voice from behind Andrea. She turned, assuming the person was addressing her. "And who might you be?"

Elijah Kamski, in the flesh. Likely there just to be thanked for a few new police androids given to the precinct by Cyberlife. And he was talking to her? Why?

Andrea suddenly became extra aware of her attire. She didn't know much about Elijah but she knew a lot about men. "Lieutenant Cartier." She responded as politely as possible. She didn't like new people. Especially when she wasn't around others she knew.

"Oh? A lieutenant. I thought Anderson was the only lieutenant in the DPD." Elijah moved closer to Andrea. She could see his intentions from a mile away.

The lieutenant cocked an eyebrow at Kamski. How did he know who Hank was? Then the pieces started to be put in place. Gavin mentioned having a brother. A twin. Kamski did look eerily similar to the slimy detective. Maybe a bit worse with his… sterile-ness. It looked too unnatural.

Andrea nibbled on a sandwich and took a small swig from a champagne glass. "I was just promoted a few days ago. Might be why you haven't heard of me." She offered with a light smile.

Kamski looked deep in thought for a moment and Andrea had half a mind to just get herself out of there. "No, I believe I know you. What's your first name again?"

She never gave it but strangely felt inclined to. "Andrea."

"Ah, yes, my brother's coworker Andrea." Kamski smiled, an amused look in his eyes. Likely from a memory he shared with Gavin. He glanced up and down at Andrea. "He never quite explained just how beautiful you were. I imagine it was because he was too busy arguing with you about… whatever." He observed Andrea for a few seconds. "Not a fan of parties?"

The woman shrugged. "Not exactly. I'll go anywhere for free food. I'm just not the biggest fan of… police parties." She admitted with a small laugh. The money spent on these parties could go towards something a bit more productive for the city. Only the Gods know how much they really need it.

"Says the police officer." Kamski joked softly.

"Yes, well… I'm not your typical police officer." That was putting it plainly but Andrea had gotten used to the irony and hilarity of her job as well as her being.

Kamski nodded, waving his hands around slightly. "Certainly don't see ones as beautiful as you every day."

Andrea cocked an eyebrow at his attempt at flirting and silently took a sip of her champagne just to let the man think about what he just did for a few minutes. Really let him sit in embarrassment. If he even felt embarrassment. Andrea wasn't sure if that was an emotion most adult human men felt. At the very least, Kamski didn't feel it. He remained composed with a light mischievous smile on the edges of his lips.

"Would you mind if I gave you my number? You're a good listener." Kamski offered. Thank the Gods he didn't ask for her number or Andrea might have had to have a word with him.

Pursing her lips, Andrea thought for a moment. She didn't particularly like Elijah. Maybe that'd change in a setting not like the one they were currently in. Aw, what the hell? What did she have to lose?

Her dignity, most likely.

But she already lost that a long time ago. Couldn't get worse than that, could it?

—---

2034, August 13th

Summer was slowly starting to wear off, stagnating at a cool 70 degrees. Compared to the recent 100–degree weather, it was heaven–sent. But, Detroit being Detroit, most people still wore shorts and a tank top just as a precaution. Andrea could care less if she sweated through her long–sleeved shirts and jeans. It was a style choice.

At least Kamski lived on the Lake so he had a bit of a breeze. Andrea took a deep breath of fresh air and smiled slightly. The lake looked especially clear and sparkly that day. Enticing to swim in. Perhaps it was her brother. Toying with her. So she refrained.

Andrea pushed herself off the side of her car and made her way to the front door of Kamski's house. The house itself looked completely out of place. Like someone decided to spray–paint a misshapen brick gray and left it out. More like a prison than a home.

Before Andrea even got the chance to press the doorbell, the door was opened. In the doorway stood an average–sized blonde woman. Her hair was in a bun and she wore a blue knee-length dress. "Oh, I'm sorry—" When finally in full view of the woman, Andrea noticed her LED. She wasn't sure why she wasn't expecting an android to be in Elijah's house.

"It's alright, Lieutenant Cartier." The android smiled gratefully. "My name is Chloe. Elijah has been expecting you." She stood off to the side in order to let Andrea inside. "He has informed me this is more of an informal gathering so I've prepared a snack board. As well as a few drinks, I hope you like wine." She led Andrea through the slightly haunting foyer into the kitchen.

The kitchen wasn't much better. Like the foyer, the walls were a light gray with different wall art and sculptures around. Andrea noticed one of them was made by Carl Manfred. An artist she liked. Not so much as to buy some of his art. It was incredibly expensive. She knew of a few that went for hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Elijah was in similar attire to what he wore at the banquet, sans the blazer. A simple maroon sweater and some black slacks. His hair was in a bun as well.

Andrea glanced down at her own clothes. A T-shirt, a brown leather jacket, and some ripped jeans. They looked like polar opposites. She laughed internally. Couldn't be more accurate.

"It's nice to meet you, Chloe." The lieutenant smiled in thanks, nodding her head. "Perhaps I'll see you again?" She offered as she turned her gaze to face Kamski's.

Chloe nodded as she left the room, a light blue blush on her face. One that Andrea didn't notice.

"I was afraid you wouldn't show up." Kamski admitted, taking a sip of one of the wine glasses on the counter.

Andrea cocked an eyebrow. "Why? Because you're… you?" The woman shrugged and grabbed a few things from the snack board. "Weirdly, I find you… fascinating. The man who gave life to so many people. It has to be… interesting." She pursed her lips in thought.

While Andrea was a God, she did not bring life into the world. Her existence helped lives to be made and even saved a few thousand but it was never as direct as what Kamski was able to do. Her followers simply prayed at a full moon for children and, perhaps, by the next one, they would conceive. Andrea was not the goddess of fertility nor of anything motherhood related but she could pull a few strings.

Kamski cocked an eyebrow at Andrea. They would get along just fine… or so it seemed.

—---

2039, August 30th

The familiar gray slate door sat in front of Andrea. Almost foreboding. She was nervous. Connor could tell by her twitching fingers and the way she felt the need to shift her weight between her legs. After a while of simply staring at the door, Andrea pressed the doorbell. She was glad she didn't come alone. Connor was one of the most stable things in her life. Besides her siblings. Although, most of them were far from stable.

Connor took her hand and offered a smile. "You're gonna be okay." It was a little… funny to see someone as powerful as Andrea be so nervous about seeing someone they haven't seen in a while.

"True. But I still feel weird as hell." Andrea whispered with a huff.

"And that's totally normal." Connor reasoned.

The door opened. It was Chloe. Except she didn't have an LED in anymore, her hair was down, and instead of her usual elegant blue dress, she wore jeans and a T-shirt. A smile made its way onto her face instantly when she saw Andrea. She opened the door wider.

"Hey." Chloe hummed, hugging Andrea tightly. "It's nice to see you again." Her eyes darted to Connor who just gave her an awkward smile.

The more she thought about it, this was likely a lot more anxiety-inducing for Connor since he had almost killed Chloe for the sake of Kamski proving his deviancy. Andrea couldn't imagine Connor ever going through with it though. She imagined he would have always been deviant. However, there could always be another universe where he wasn't. Where their relationship didn't exist… where he was just a machine.

Andrea thanked the universe she wasn't in that world.

She liked Nines but he was still very reserved when it came to showing his emotions. Andrea loved Connor because he was a deviant. Because he knew how to handle his emotions, mostly. And if he didn't, he'd ask. The victim of his questions would either be Hank or Andrea herself. However, Andrea found his questions cute. She was glad he could be so open with her.

As they entered Kamski’s house, Andrea could feel the nostalgia rushing into her chest. The foyer didn’t change much from the last time she was there. A few small plants were added to liven the place up a little bit. It was needed.

Andrea wondered if Kamski would ever move because this house was so… Not warm. She couldn’t imagine waking up every day in this house and feeling good about her life. Though, she and Kamski were very different people.

“Elijah just finished cooking, you came just in time.” Chloe smiled as she led them through the house.

Kamski cooked? Andrea had to be honest, she didn’t know he could cook. She assumed he was helpless in the kitchen since he had Chloe cook most of their meals when she came over in the past. Chloe noticed Andrea’s questioning look and let out a small laugh.

“To be honest, I thought you might be late.” Kamski said as they entered the kitchen. His eyes ran over Connor as he smiled slightly. “Hello, Connor. It’s nice to see you again… under a less stressful situation.” This was awkward for Kamski too. Just a little bit. “Well… who’s ready to eat?”

The dinner at Kamski’s was actually very nice. They talked briefly about everything that happened between the last time Andrea saw him and now. It was… a lot. Especially since they couldn’t talk about what really happened. While Andrea did trust Kamski with her life, she didn’t trust him with a secret. That may change. He seemed a lot less… deceptive than he used to be. Andrea would give it a few weeks to see if those feelings would go away.

Besides that, Andrea was glad Kamski made some thirium-based foods so Connor could widen his palette. Lately, he’s been on a souvlaki kick. Partly because Andrea would occasionally make them for her lunches and, as soon as Connor got his hands on one, he became addicted. Now, instead of packing one lunch, Andrea would pack for two. Connor didn’t want to admit it but he was almost human appetite-wise.

Walking into the precinct the next day felt a little weird. Everything was just off. Everyone was staring at Andrea and not for the usual reasons. She could tell. Even Gavin, the renowned asshole he was, was quiet. So quiet that Andrea was concerned for his health. She did arrive earlier than her usual time but it wasn’t like she was always late so this was some sort of accomplishment for her. If that was the case, Andrea would be more like Hank.

Andrea leaned over to Connor’s desk, eyes narrowed as she watched Tina who was trying to act like she wasn’t staring at her. For a cop, she was horrible at acting not suspicious. “Why’s everyone staring at me?” She whispered. “It’s unnerving as hell.” Connor simply shrugged, typing at an inhuman rate on his terminal. Andrea huffed. Connor was in on it which meant was of no help.

Did they know what she was? No. Andrea shook her head. If they did, she would’ve been fired as soon as they found out and Connor would have told her if they knew. He wasn’t cruel. In fact, quite the opposite. It’s not that he wouldn’t hurt a fly… it was more that he wouldn’t prolong its suffering. A quick headshot would get the job done without the need for a messy fight. Connor gave Andrea a reassuring look, nudging her slightly. He could sense her stress levels were getting higher.

“Cartier!” Andrea jumped at the sudden calling of her name. Her coworkers were making her uneasy with all the staring. “ In my office!” Whatever it was, she’d have to worry about it later. Fowler needed her.

Connor smiled softly at Andrea as she stood with a huff. Was it so hard just to come out of his office and tell her they needed to talk in private? It seemed like it was for Fowler. Connor watched as his partner left when, suddenly, Nines and Hank appeared next to him.

“Does she have any idea what’s happening?” Hank asked in a muffled voice, part of a pink glazed donut halfway in his mouth. Connor allowed this because, at the very least, it was healthier than alcohol. Nines glanced at Connor. He had the same thing on his mind.

“I don’t think so.” Connor admitted with a light shrug. Since getting to know Andrea, it was far easier to read her unlike when they first met. The air of mystery around her was gone. But he would occasionally have trouble. Andrea, like some humans he knew, was paradoxical. Contradictory. Complex. Confusing… “I believe she is more concerned that the precinct knows the truth about her.”

Nines scoffed as a light laugh escaped his lips. Humans were stupid. They’d never find out because of their own ignorance towards the truth. Connor and Hank stared blankly at Nines. The blue-eyed android stared back with narrowed eyes.

“Did you just–”

“No.”

Fowler glanced up at Andrea once she entered his glass case of an office. “You may want to sit down.” He offered. The comment just made Andrea feel more uneasy. She sat down across from Fowler. Was she getting fired? For what? To Fowler’s knowledge, she did nothing against the law. Nothing that could be a fireable offense. Unless someone was trying to blackmail her somehow. “You’re overthinking too much.” His words cut through Andrea.

Andrea pursed her lips before she let out a breath. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You’re a good kid, Andrea.” Andrea was far from a kid but took the compliment anyway. “You’re a great leader in times of chaos, you’re a helluva detective, I’ve known you for years and you don’t take bullshit. I like that about you. I trust you.” That certainly sounded like he was about to say, ‘I’m sorry, we have to let you go’ to Andrea. She remained quiet to let the man continue. “I’m getting old, if I wasn’t bald, my hair would probably be gray. I want to spend time with the wife and my kids. I don’t want to be living in stress for the rest of my life. I think you might be able to handle it…” Andrea stared, confused. Was he..? “I’m retiring. And I want the next Captain to be someone I trust to run this precinct better than I ever have. I think that person can be you.”

Andrea felt her heart drop to her feet. Be Captain? She had never thought about it before. She assumed the position would go to someone like Hank. While Andrea was experienced, she thought Fowler would go for someone with more experience than she had. Someone who joined fresh out of the academy and worked until they were fifty or sixty.

Fowler continued after a few moments. “Would you want to have that kind of responsibility?” Being Captain of the DPD would be the least of Andrea’s worries.

“It would be…” Andrea took a deep breath. “An honor.”

Fowler smiled. A genuine smile. “Good. Cause I had no other options.” He admitted. “I’ll get things in order on my end to hand the precinct over to you. We’ll probably have a little party or something. I don’t know, Tina said she’d handle it. You’re dismissed.”

Andrea chuckled. Of course, Tina would handle it. “That’s the last time you’re gonna be able to do that.” She said as she walked towards the office exit.

“Yeah…”

“So, Captain Cartier…” Hank smirked as Andrea got back to her desk. “That does sound nice, doesn’t it, Connor?” The android in question nodded, a wide smile on his lips.

Andrea shook her head as a crowd formed around her. “You were all in on it, weren’t you?” She laughed, rolling her eyes with affection.

“I mean, it’s partly Hank’s fault.” Tina admitted. Andrea cocked an eyebrow at the lieutenant.

Hank shrugged, “Me and Fowler hang out occasionally at this jazz bar. He was talking about retirement and shit like that. We all know it wasn’t gonna be me. I’m still a mess, just… in a contained area right now.”

Andrea’s eyes softened with sympathy for Hank. She knew Hank didn’t take it personally but she couldn’t help feeling slightly guilty. Even if Fowler and Hank were similar in age… Hank was of retirement age too.

“You deserve it, Andrea.” Connor set a hand on her shoulder. Overthinking was one of Andrea’s greatest vices. He knew he couldn’t change that about her but perhaps he could ease some of the pain it caused her. “You will be a great Captain. I know it.”

Chris nodded in agreement, “Yeah. Plus, you’ll get your own office now! Away from Gavin.” He teased, knowing the detective in question was listening intently from his desk.

That was a plus. Another plus was the ability to fire him if she needed to. Though, Andrea had a feeling Gavin would be a lot less of an asshole with her in charge. Daniel… she wasn’t so sure of. She’d have to gauge it when she becomes Captain.

“Not to mention…” Tina smirked, “You get a rocking first-day party next week planned by yours truly.” She winked. “Now…. what’s your favorite foods? Because I already have some baklava and spanakopita on my list but I don’t know if that's like a Greek stereotype or if you actually like that. So let me know.” Andrea was about to respond. “Actually, text me 'cause I probably won’t remember off the top of my head.” Andrea had to suppress a laugh as she nodded. She did like Greek food but it wasn’t the only kind of food she ate.

Connor and Nines shared an amused look. Connor was proud of his lover. She absolutely deserved this. She was so kind and loving and yet was full of so much self-doubt that it pained Connor to see her feel like she was undeserving of every good thing that came her way. He blamed it on the weight of the world (or moon) on her shoulders. Nines was proud of his friend. She was nothing but kind to him, even at the beginning of his deviancy. He appreciated her honesty. Why wouldn’t the Goddess of Justice be honest? Well, with those she trusted.

—----

2039, September 7th

At approximately 10:00 am

The police station was decorated with banners and fliers donned with “CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR PROMOTION!!!” strewn all around the office. Andrea was almost done moving her things into the Captain’s office. She seemed happy enough and that’s all Connor could ask for. The entire precinct staff was there including a retired Fowler, Kamski, Chloe, Markus, North, Simon, and Josh. The Jericho leaders were happy to see someone who cared about their people put in a higher position of power in the precinct. Andrea may not be able to do much when it came to government but she’d judge the victims and suspects of the precinct fairly.

With a breath, Andrea left her new office and grabbed a spanakopita from the break room. She appreciated the party as a gesture but it wasn’t something she needed. Connor spotted Andrea and made his way over to her. He could tell something was eating away at her. “Pos eisai agapi mou??” He whispered in Greek, eyebrows furrowed.

TRANSLATION:

My love, how are you doing?

Surprised, Andrea looked up at Connor. She knew Connor was an android, therefore he had a million different dialects programmed into him but she never heard him speak her language before. “Eímai entáxei.” She eventually responded in Greek as she took another bite of her snack. “Aplá synklonisménos.” She was glad she had a family, earthly and divine.

TRANSLATION:

I’m alright. Just overwhelmed.

However, they were very different from each other. Andrea would be glad to see any of her siblings or nieces and nephews besides Poseidon. Olympus was rarely empty but the realm of the Gods didn’t feel like home anymore. Before Connor, Andrea wondered if she could reside on the Moon in the same way Poseidon resided in his realm of the Sea. Now, she didn’t see the need for that.

“Vlépo...” Connor pursed his lips. “Would you like to go outside? I believe the moon is visible in the sky since it’s a clear day.” He offered softly. He could tell that simply seeing the moon helped re-energize Andrea. He wasn’t exactly sure why but he equated it to her being a Goddess.

TRANSLATION:

I see…

With a nod, Andrea followed Connor outside. The moon was full. It looked like a perfectly round cloud in the middle of the blue sky. Andrea visibly calmed, leaning against a wall as she looked up at it. Connor intertwined their hands, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He could feel the tension leaving her body. He was glad he could have that effect on her.

The pair stayed there for a while until Andrea turned towards Connor. “I think I’m good now.” Connor knew she needed to decompress, becoming Captain would be stressful for anyone.

Connor hummed in response, admiring the way Andrea’s chest rose and fell with her breathing. Simply knowing the beat of her heart calmed him. He wasn’t sure why. “Would you like to go back inside? Tina might mind but if you want to go home…” Connor’s eyes flicked up to her deep blue ones.

Andrea’s eyes flickered with something dark. “Giatí? Tha boroúsate loipón na échete mazí mou?” She knew Connor loved it when she spoke her native language. And he knew she’d use it to her advantage.

TRANSLATION:

Why? So you could have your way with me?

Another side effect of the full moon. Andrea’s libido would rise exponentially. The daylight suppressed it but at night… Connor couldn’t wait for night.

“Don’t think you want your first time to be in an alleyway, Connor.” Kamski teased. He was leaning just outside the doorway back into the precinct.

Right. Connor only knew of Andrea’s change of… desire at a full moon because she told him. Not because he had any experience with Andrea like that. She was partial to simply locking herself in her room if it became too bad.

Kamski watched the pair for a moment. “You two need to come back inside. Chloe wants to talk to you.” He glanced at Andrea. “Nothing serious, in case you’re wondering. And I think Hank might explode if Nines keeps barring him from the cake.”

“Wait, you didn’t tell me there was cake.” Andrea’s eyes widened. While she was partial to Greek sweets, cake was one of her favorite desserts ever. Chocolate with strawberries was her favorite.

“Yeah. Chocolate…oop. And she’s gone.” Kamski and Connor watched as Andrea ran inside to get a piece. He leaned over to Connor, eyes still trained on Andrea. “Does she still eat a coffee cake almost every morning for breakfast?”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “Yes.” How did Kamski know that?

“Good to know some things never change.” Kamski laughed. Much like his relationship with his brother. That didn’t change. And it probably never would. He then motioned for Connor to come inside so he could close the door.

Connor did. On his way to the main bullpen, he admired his surroundings. The Jericho leaders were talking with Nines, Chloe, and Hank, Chris, Tina, and Sarah were bickering over something, Daniel and Gavin seemed to have a nice rapport (while both awful people, Connor felt glad they could have each other) while Andrea was in the middle of cutting a slice of cake for herself. The cake, as Kamski explained, was chocolate with cream cheese icing and was decorated in a deep blue color and white lettering that read:

HAPPY PROMOTION DAY!!!

It also had a moon in the top right corner as well as a few stars. When Connor asked Tina about it when she brought it in she said “I dunno, Andrea just seems like star and moon girly to me.” Oh, how true that was.

Andrea took a bite of the cake and hummed. “It’s a little sad there’s no thirium in this or I would offer you some. It’s so good.” She bounced a little out of happiness.

[Note to self: next time Andrea gets sad, bake her a cake]

“I’m glad you like it.” Connor smiled after a moment of his LED whirring yellow.

Andrea coughed, setting down her plate as she looked up at Connor. “I know you helped put all this together.” Her eyes softened. Connor knew she’d find out eventually. Although, he wasn’t too concerned about it being a secret. “S'agapó.” She took his hand as she set one of hers on his jaw. “Eísai o ílios apó ton opoío to fengári mou paírnei to fos tou.” Her eyes were so soft. So deep that Connor could see himself getting washed away in them, like the ocean. He didn’t mind.

TRANSLATION:

You are the sun from which my moon gets its light.

Connor’s LED turned pink. Hot pink. Previously, Andrea wasn’t one to express her love in so many words. He liked it. Perhaps she was more comfortable doing it in her native language.

From across the room, Kamski and Chloe watched the exchange. Everyone else was too busy talking or trying to get a little work done. “You think I should fix that?” Kamski spoke. The pink LED phenomenon wasn’t something he’d seen in an android before. Whether that was because most deviants took off their LED after deviancy or some other thing, he wasn’t sure. Was it a bug? If so, it seemed only Connor had it.

“No.” Chloe tilted her head slightly as she watched the pair share a kiss. “She likes it.”

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