#clive i swear... stop doing this to me...
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Jitters
FFXVI Gav x female reader, fluff
Swearing cos it's Gav, obviously.
Dinner tonight is one of your favourites, but your appetite has abandoned you. You stir the contents of the bowl around with your spoon once more, before feeling guilty about the waste it’ll be if you don’t eat and force down a mouthful. You were hoping Molly would’ve let you serve this evening to keep your mind occupied, but she’d shooed you off with a bowl of stew.
“Oh,” Jill’s voice comes from over your shoulder, sounding surprised. “I thought you would have left by now. I was sure I saw Obolus take the skiff out a little while ago.”
“Erm…” You sit up straight, dropping the spoon into the bowl with a clunk and plastering on an attempt at carefree smile. “Cancelled.”
Or maybe it wasn’t ever really organized? After all, Gav had been at least two drinks deep, served by Molly, when he’d approached you in the Ale Hall the previous evening. You’d been eating dinner with Jill after serving up the rest of the Hideaway. The scout had swaggered over almost, flinging an arm around your shoulders as he sat down on the edge of your seat and grinned.
“May I request the pleasure of your company for dinner at Martha’s Rest tomorrow, my lady?”
You’d stared at him for a moment, trying to work out if you’d misinterpreted his words. Gav was a loyal customer at the Tub & Crown and you’d spent many an evening speaking with him about everything under the sun. An arrival to the new Hideaway, taken in after being identified as a so-called Branded sympathizer in the Empire and threatened to be made an example of, a group of Cursebreakers had whisked you and the Bearers you’d been shielding here a few years ago, where you’d soon found yourself working behind the counter. Your chats over time with Gav had been a smidge flirtatious, but neither of you had ever dared venture further.
With your cheeks burning, you jerkily nod, words having abandoned you.
“That is a yes, Gav.” Jill had spoken up on your behalf.
“Wonderful. I shall see you anon.” He’d grabbed your hand then, placed a kiss across your knuckles and then sauntered back across to his place at the counter, slapping a hand on Otto’s back in triumph.
“No,” Jill frowns, sitting down on the seat besides you. “Why?”
“Something about Clive needing his scouting skills for the next while.” You shrug your shoulders half-heartedly, trying to keep the smile in place. You need to stop moping. “It’s fine.” Maybe if you say it enough it’ll become true.
“Clive needed his…” Jill trails off, pressing her lips together in a firm line in a moment of thought. She nods to herself and gets to her feet then, stepping behind you and hoists you off your seat. “Come with me.”
“But I’m not-” You gesture to your bowl on the table. Jill doesn’t or chooses not to hear your protest, instead wrapping her fingers firmly around your arm and pulls you forward across the Ale Hall towards the staircase leading up to Clive’s chambers.
“Wait, where are we going?”
Jill proceeds to yank you up the stairs alongside her, before she knocks once on the doors. You reason she must’ve just come from there if she’s so sure he’s inside - Clive was hardly ever in the Hideaway these days, always to-ing and fro-ing across the continent.
“Come in.” His gravelly voice calls back and Jill slides the door open, pulling you forward in front of her and pushing you forward – encouragingly so, she’d argue – causing you to stumble in.
“Ah, hello,” Clive smiles from his place behind the desk, quill in hand as he deals with a pile of missives. He notes your bemused expression and looks between you and Jill. “Is all well?”
“Ye-”
“No.” Jill cuts across you once more as she slides the door closed behind her away from any prying ears. “Clive, did you send Gav out today?”
“Gav? No.” He shakes his head. “Why do you ask?”
Your heart sinks as you respond. “He… He said you did.” He lied. Why would he lie? Unless…
“Are you feeling all right, my lady? You’re looking a little pale.” Clive is up on his feet, striding around the desk to stand by your side. “Should we fetch Tarja?”
“No, no, I’m fine. I should go.” You take a too heavy step backwards, looking and feeling as if you might faint. Clive and Jill instantly put an arm each around you, ushering you to take a seat on the bench.
Clive looks to Jill for guidance then, unsure if he should go against your wishes when you clearly did not look well.
“Gav has cancelled on their outing to Martha’s Rest, of which I am sure there’s an reasonable explanation. He’s smitten.” Jill sits down besides you, placing a steadying hand on your knee. “He doesn’t stop talking about you. Isn’t that right, Clive?”
The Fire Dominant nods, crouching down in front of you. “Yes. In fact, he came to me for guidance – Founder knows why. I don’t understand. He definitely told you that I needed him elsewhere?”
You nod. “Well, he left me a note with Molly. Said you needed his sniff for something that couldn’t wait.” You bite your lip as tears sting at your eyes, feeling truly and utterly pathetic. “I… I really should go. There’s things I could be getting on which will benefit everyone rather than this foolishness.”
“No, I am sure Jill is right-“
A knock in a somewhat familiar cadence causes Clive to pause and he looks between the two of you and the door, assessing the situation.
“Just a moment.” He calls back, getting to his feet. He places a hand on your shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll ask them to come back.”
You open your mouth to protest but he’s already strode over to the door, sliding it open only a crack to dismiss the visitor.
“Oh, Gav. I, er, wasn’t expecting you.” Clive fumbles through his sentence, blocking the view of the room with his large frame.
Gav raises an eyebrow. “You all right, like?”
“Fine. And you?”
“Aye.” A pause. “Well, I was wondering if I could have a word, though…”
“I see. Well…” Clive turns awkwardly as to keep Gav’s view obscured and looks over at you and Jill. She wraps an arm around you and pulls you up to your feet, performing a circling motion with her other hand to get Clive to keep the scout talking and guides you towards the balcony and out of sight.
“Jill, what are we doing?”
She hushes you, pointing back inside.
“Of course. Er, come on in.” Clive steps back, sliding open the door and finally allowing the scout to enter, eyebrow raised.
“You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.” Clive replies, tight-lipped. Perhaps Jill and Byron were right – he was a terrible liar. He takes a seat back behind his desk, laying his arms down in what he hopes is a natural position but failing abysmally.
“Right...”
“You wanted a word?”
“Yeah. I…” He scratches the back of his neck. “I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve been a right twat, like.”
“More than usual?” Clive can’t help the jibe, but Gav only lets out a half-hearted laugh in response.
“Yeah…” He sighs.
“Is this about a certain barmaid that you were in pursuit of courting?”
“Jill,” you whisper, eyeing up the drop from the balcony to see if you could fling yourself off it without ending up in Tarja’s bad books. “Please, I don’t want to hear this.”
She hushes you again, keeping you in place.
“I’ve fucked it good and proper. Cancelled it – told her you needed me out scouting.” Gav sighs, sitting down heavily on the bench.
“But I don’t.”
“I know you don’t,” Gav snaps back, irritated at himself.
“Why did you cancel, then? Otto told me you were bouncing on the spot like Torgal with a good bone last night.”
“I don’t know,” the scout moans, dropping his head in his hands. “Cos I’m an idiot. She’s just… And I’m not… You know what I mean.”
“Gav.” He gives him an exasperated look.
“She’s so pretty, Clive. A goddess.” You bow your head at that, knowing you’re going to be as red as anything, and Jill squeezes your arm in a wordless told you.
“Right…”
“She could have any man in Valisthea down on their knees for a chance to see that smile of hers too, like. Brighter than the Mothercrystals.”
“Gav, you’ve lost me. I still don’t understand why you lied to her.”
“Come on, Clive.” Gav grimaces. “You’ve got to admit that one of us was more blessed in the scar department than the other. Yours makes you look rugged, my scarred mug on the other hand…”
Your eyes widen in realization.
“You do know she’s seen your face before.” Clive probes.
“That’s not my poi-”
“You truly think me so shallow?” You step out from the balcony, hands on your hips.
Gav’s jaw drops open, obviously shocked to see you there and gets to his feet, trying to compose himself. “No, never. You’re too sweet. I just… I went about it the wrong way, asking you in front of everyone – didn’t give you the chance to say no. You were bloody speechless when I asked.”
“I was speechless because I was happy - I didn’t want to say no!”
“Come on, Clive,” Jill steps around you, takes Clive’s arm and pulls him up from the desk. “We should leave them to it.”
“But it’s my-” Jill cuts off his protest with a look and he concedes, sliding the door open for her instead before stepping through. “We’ll be in the Ale Hall, if you need us.”
The door slides shut and the two of you are left in silence, Gav unable to meet your gaze.
You take a step forward, the fire in your belly now doused. “Is that truly the reason you cancelled?”
He nods, before sitting back down on the bench heavily, placing his head in his hands. “I panicked, second-guessed myself. I never second-guess myself – it’s not a good trait for a scout to have. You, though…” You slowly begin to make your way over as he speaks. “I just lost my confidence the more I thought about it. I know you haven’t been out of the Hideaway for a while, worked myself up, like. Worried that maybe if we headed over to Martha’s Rest, some other gentleman might catch your eye and you’d… Well, you’d regret going with me.”
You sit besides him on the bench then, place a cautious hand on his thigh.
“I like you, Gav. I’ve never liked anyone – man or otherwise – quite like I like you.”
He smiles, bashfully. “I’ve been a right Morbol’s arsehole, haven’t I?”
“I wouldn’t put it as colourful as that, but…” You tease. “Besides, we don’t have to go to Martha’s Rest, or anywhere, really. I’d just like to spend some time with you – one on one.”
“No – I want it to be special, like. I’m sure I can scout us somewhere…” Gav smirks, placing his hand on top of your own. “Though it’ll be a bit difficult to find a place that could outdo your beauty, pet.”
You’re thankful the light is dim in Clive’s chambers so it isn’t obvious of how flustered you’ve become. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
The two of you get to your feet then, hands intertwining with ease as he walks you over to the door and slides it open – the hum of conversation flooding the chambers from the Ale Hall below.
Before he can say another word, you stand on your tip toes and press a kiss to his scarred cheek and turn, almost skipping back down the stairs.
The scout stands stunned for a moment, placing his hand on his cheek where he’d felt your sweet lips.
“Fuck me.”
--
Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi
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I'm still running around doing sidequests in FF16 (as soonas I finish one, at least one other pops up) and I'm collecting some tidbits I especially liked:
First of, the "More than words" quest with Torgal. Man, that one made me cry. First they tell me the band around Torgal's ankle is from Cid so he would stop gnawing his paw due to heartbreak and now Torgal refuses to take it off because he, too, misses Cid (already ow) no, it also turns out that a) young Clive used to run off to a Island in Rosaria whenever he wanted to be alone / felt like he was not good enough for his mother, no, b) they alsohit me with the fact that Torgal spent eighteen years collecting everything which remotely reminded him of Clive, like Clive's sparring sword. I'm. I'm so emotional for this good boy? Hello?
Second, the "Aiming high" quest with Mid. I just love her so much, and her dynamic with Clive is awesome. Favorites include
Mid: "The Enterprise is my baby, but the godfather can help!"
Clive is now Godfather to the Enterprise. I do not know id that is promotion, or a burden XD
Then:
Clive "Mid. Tell me this is all you need."
Mid: "Weeeelll..."
Clive: "Tell me. This is all. You need"
They got so much sibling energy I swear. Or just. Family energy.
Alos, I adore that Mid is so firm in her decision that she would DESTROY the Enterprise / at least the flight engine after they have seen their use, because she does not want them to be used for war. And her decision to hide the schematics somewhere where they will be found with a riddle is so - it's so Cid. He did the same thing for her, when we had to solve a riddle to find the sketches for the Enterprise.
Then the "Where there is a will" quest. This one is nice, but I feel like it falls a bit short at some points - for example, Elwin's words are given to us only in letter (which I can barely read, small script) with no voice over. Then we get the matching armbands foe Clive and Joshua, but we don't seem them. I couldnt find them in the inventory, or attached to the brothers. I feel like the feels would have hit harder with a bit - more? I can't really explain XD
Then the "Under new management" quest line. Anything else think the Dame Isabelle is awesome, and her and that Philippe guy are cute? Just me?
That's as far as I got now. There's some others but these were my faves. I need to finish like four more, two hunts, and then I will probably download the DLC before I continue the main quest
#sevi plays ff16#ffxvi spoilers#ff16 spoilers#clive rosfield#joshua rosfield#torgal#ff16 torgal#mid telamon
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Waiwaitwait what if Clive got killed in his own fake shootout at the casino?
You got Clive thinking about how he didn’t plan on dying, Luke seeing “himself” die, Dimitri wondering where his accomplice is when they show up at the pagoda, and the mobile fortress… uh. I don’t know what happens to it since Clive is dead.
Claire could come in as their guide where Clive would have been.
technically i used this for a story about claire in a time loop where clive keeps dying despite her trying to stop it but it’s fun as a standalone idea
!!! Oooh this is the good good stuff. I know you're here for Clive dying so I focused on that, but I am definitely doing a Dimitri part in the future 👀 Thank you for the idea !! (Also I'm keeping this fic rec hehe)
List of TW : Gunshots, gun wound, mention of death, blood. No graphic injury description besides the blood, no medical stuff (this takes place in a casino after all). Also I've never died before so this may not be accurate, my apologies
(On a very related note and contrary to what these past few days may indicate, I am not stopping the silly meme redraws and regular fanarts. I'm back from work so I can start working on these again !!)
Layton hid behind a slot machine, clenching his teeth as bullets wheezed all around him. He hated the very thought of leaving Luke alone in the middle of this battlefield, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
The other Luke should have been close by. He had taken a late start because of that punch, yes, but he should have been able to catch up : and yet, Hershel couldn't see him anywhere.
He had a feeling the solution to this puzzle wouldn't be a pleasant one.
Seeing an opening, Layton left his hiding spot to run across the casino, his focus split between the bullets flying by and the person he was looking for. A blue silhouette, probably hiding behind another slot machine, most definitely near the entrance of the casino-
There.
He almost missed him because he wasn't wearing his blue hat -it must have fallen at some point when he ran for cover-, but once he had spotted him, Hershel didn't waste any time. Stepping next to Future Luke, the professor immediately pressed his back against the slot machine to occupy less space, to make himself harder to spot too. This hiding spot was- well, not quite good, to put it that way. Bullets were flying dangerously close. Machines were falling apart, revealing their presence to their enemies. They had to move fast or they would soon be cornered.
A swear caught his attention, and Hershel turned to his apprentice with a frown.
When he saw the state he was in though, it seemed to him that the bullets were so far away all of a sudden, even though they had suddenly gotten far too close at the same time.
Future Luke sat on the ground next to him, shaking and sweating and swearing under his breath. His clumsy hands were trying and failing to compress a specific spot on his chest, one that was turning more and more crimson each passing second.
The professor stopped thinking.
"When did you get hit ?" he asked quickly while taking the younger man's jacket off, making sure not to add to his tremors.
Future Luke watched as Layton pressed the blue fabric against his stomach. "A- I-," he struggled to mutter, which was both ridiculous and humiliating, "Few minutes- I think"
The professor only nodded, brows furrowed in silence.
Clive could see the math the professor was doing, the way he was recalling knowledge about biology and firearms and fatal injuries- although this injury was hardly fatal, really, not with the professor here.
"Professor-" he wheezed, "You have- to save me"
Layton's eyes went up, watching his face for a second, then down again, to the blue fabric that wasn't blue anymore. "I am trying to, my boy."
Oh, funny. Did he call Luke his boy ? Did he see Luke as some sort of son, or was it more of a mentor-apprentice kind of thing ? Had this been a slip-up, or was he too his boy, despite not being this professor's apprentice ?
Wait. He wasn't anyone's apprentice. He wasn't Luke, he meant nothing to them, the professor didn't even remember him. He could die here and no one would mourn him- the actual him. "You- you have to," he muttered in panic because it was finally kicking in, the realization that all of this was play pretend but the bullet wasn't, he was going to die, he was going to actually die here in this stupid and meaningless place- "Professor you have to- you have to save me again-"
Layton put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm the boy. "Not so loud, they could hear you."
Oh right, because the shooting was still going on, the plan was still going on, it didn't matter if Clive died in the middle of it now did it ? Dimitri didn't need him, right ? None of them had bothered to spare him, to give him enough time to stand up after that first punch because it was so much easier to shoot him while he was down.
"I- I can't die. It can't end like- like this," Layton heard the young man say- but it didn't sound like denial this time.
It sounded like anger.
It was odd, Layton realized, how different he was. So commanding and self-righteous. Without the blue hat and the blue vest, now entirely red, he almost looked like someone else entirely- like he had never been Luke in the first place.
Layton was glad that Luke wasn't here.
Of course, that was the moment the boy chose to arrive.
"Professor !!" Luke was breathless, panicked tears in his eyes : he was looking back in fear because the bullets had not stopped, how long could they keep going for ? "Professor, you-"
Luke's eyes fell upon his dying future self.
Layton loosened his grip on the vest as he tried to divert his apprentice's attention instead.
Clive did not look at either of them, too busy bleeding out on the ground.
He felt very weak suddenly, which was definitely because the professor wasn't compressing his wound anymore. He tried to do it himself, but his arms remained still on the ground.
"Professor-" He needed him to compress the wound. Why was he talking to the kid ? Clive was right there, bleeding out, and he needed the professor to save him- why wasn't the professor saving him ?? Layton was supposed to do something, to make him all better and maybe things would finally go well then !
"You can't die !!" The kid was at his side now, and yep, he was crying. Marvelous. "You are me, and therefore you can't die !!"
That didn't make any sense, but he couldn't even tell him that much. He felt weak- no actually, he wasn't even sure he felt weak anymore. He couldn't feel much of anything in his body and mind, even the pain seemed like a distant memory now.
"Luke, you shouldn't look-" The professor said, and was he trying to hold the kid back ? Why had he let go of the vest ? Why wasn't anything working ?
Dimitri would make fun of him- he could already hear him. He would say that he was always trying to be dramatic, and that maybe this would teach him a lesson. And Clive would answer that Dimitri was wrong because well, Clive was right, had been right all along, the professor had saved him and Dimitri really couldn't say the same, now could he ? The professor had always been there to fix Dimitri's mistakes. He had always made the world a better place. He had come here of all places to play his part, play his role, and stop them- save them. He would save Clive, just like he always had. And then Dimitri would feel stupid, like he deserved to, and he would apologize. And Layton-
"I am sorry," Clive heard somewhere next to him, and farther away there was crying. Turning his head with great pain, he managed to see the professor looking at him regretfully, holding back a devastated teenage boy in his arms. "I can't help you."
Clive watched the professor. His sorrow. His grip on the young boy who was fighting to try and do something, anything.
An image formed in his mind. He couldn't see it. It was already too dark.
The last words his brain registered were an apology.
#I hope this was good hehe#Clive is such a mess I'm not sure what his reaction would be#Yes I did a reference to Clive's childhood I HAD TO OKAY#Clive dove#Hershel Layton#Luke Triton#professor layton and the unwound future#professor layton and the lost future#My writing#Ask#TW : mention of death#TW : blood#TW : death#TW : gun#TW : Gunshots
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Medea Plays Pokemon Scarlet & Violet: Part II
This game has a lot of options on where you should go and what you should do. I’ve been bouncing around thanks to the open world concept.
As I mentioned in my prior post with that ewwie-looking fella in the school uniform, anybody can be at school at any age. Pokemon Scarlet/Violet is no exception here. Even this 60 year old can be a student. Let’s do some investigations on the titans.
Surprisingly, only one of the titan pokemon has been destructive and yes it’s Bombirdier.
Even the Pokedex advises you not to take photos of the falling boulders. Not gonna stop me from doing something reckless.
At first, you fight them. But then in mid-battle, they stop, look for a glowing plant, eat it, and become an even bigger bastard. That’s when Arven steps in and fights alongside you against these formidable foes.
Oh fuck.
That’s a cursed face right there. That’s a face that says, “I ate your puppy. He tasted like love”.
Arven has a legitimate reason for making you go up against these overgrown pokemon. And in a heartbeat, he became my favorite character.
He’s doing it for his ailing pokemon. Apparently, those herb mysticas the giants eat have something in them that help with certain ailments. He’s helping this little fella see and walk again.
Arven, I’m sorry I judged you harshly before. You’re an all-star. Time to make some sandwiches.
Koraidon will eat the sandwich and learn a hidden move like dash, jump higher, climb, swim, and glide. That solves the HM dilemma. Let’s pop in on campus to see what’s up.
If Gible is going to teach us how to blow up a Piplup with Draco Meteor, I’m going to enjoy this class.
Dawn’s Piplup being blasted with Draco Meteor will never not be funny.
You can take classes from a wide variety of teachers and subjects.
Hey look, Professor Laventon made his way onto this game. That’s nice.
The teachers will always go to you for the correct answer because you apparently stick out like a sore thumb and you can’t sit behind a fat guy and remain unnoticed. I seriously hate being called on.
Hey look, Mr. Salvatore made a nod to Professor Bellis from Pokemon Masters Ex. That’s nice.
When you’re not taking classes, you can sometimes talk to your instructors and get close to them in the process.
Like helping Miss Dendra out with her cooking. Dude, the home-ec bruh told you to put some butter on them bread slices. But no, you had to be little Miss Al Roker and say...
This is actually a fun school. I see no downside to thi...
And I’m overcome with PTSD suddenly.
Yeah, there’s midterms and final exams. Even hearing those words, years after getting my degree still makes me break out in a cold sweat. Thanks Pokemon.
It sure feels good to fill in all of those empty spaces with your blood on the answer sheet, doesn’t it? Get the fuck outta here with that cute class banter, Mr. Jacq-strap.
“the oranges of Paldea”
Who wrote this test, Donald Trump?
AHH, couldn’t get through a shit-post trilogy without making fun of Donald Trump. I ain’t even sorry.
I swear, if I went to a Pokemon University, I would have graduated Magna Cum Laude instead of...actually, I graduated with a 3.48. I’m satisfied with that accomplishment. Okay, let’s head on to the Team Star situation.
Director Clavell (or “Clive”) and the unseen hacker want you to infiltrate all of the Team Star hideouts and challenge each of their leaders. But before you do that, you have to defeat 30 pokemon in under 10 minutes. Then comes the leader.
*clears throat*
I have a theory. Hear me out. This is Grimsley’s son. I am convinced of this. And let me go further. Grimsley had a son with some woman from Naples. Soon after, Grimsley ditched the family. Unnamed mother and Giacomo move to Alola where Unnamed mother starts dating Guzma. Guzma has Giacomo hang out with his Team Skull members while he smashes Unnamed mother. Team Skull get Giacomo interested in deejaying. They break up a few years later. Unnamed mother and Giacomo move to Paldea. Here we are.
I stand by this theory.
After you defeat the 30 pokemon in under 10 minutes and defeat the leaders and their pokemon AND their giant pokemon automobile, we get flashbacks to 18 months ago when Team Star got started.
Like Atticus was the one who gave everyone their own personal design. He even made Mela’s boots. I guess Atticus is the reason why Mela walks around like a Monty Python character.
While I’m on Atticus. He’s like if Kakkashi-sensei had a femme son that spoke like David Cross playing a warlock. I ain’t even sorry.
After defeating a Team Star area, the hacker gives you some LP money. And then Penny comes and gives you items for crafting TM’s. Okay, let’s do gym battles.
Just like with finding the Sunflora in Brassius’s gym, you have to do some crazy gym test. Like in Katy’s gym where you have to push a giant olive through an obstacle course.
Or indulge Iono during her live stream by finding Director Clavell in a crowd of people. A shotty attempt at a Where’s Waldo if I ever saw one.
Or bid on some food. At least the gym leader here gives you money and let’s you keep what’s left.
Despite what I said in the prior post, there will be some gym tests where you get asked to battle by someone. Like one of Iono’s fans or a gym assistant who thinks you’re getting to close to Kofu.
Now you can trounce these gym leaders.
Iono, I don’t like that you keep saying “friendo”. I’m getting major Javier Bardem callbacks whenever I see it.
And don’t forget Nemona wants to battle.
She really loves battling. And she will follow you to the ends of the earth just to battle you again and again and again. You could be dead. And she would dig up your corpse, hire a necromancer to bring you back to life, and beg you to battle her.
I think that’s all I’ll do for this shit-post. Time for a sandwich break.
To be continued.
#pokemon#pokemon scarlet and violet#nemona#arven#iono#bombirdier#gible#director clavell#team star#atticus#giacomo
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My thoughts on FFXVI - Full Game Spoilers
Ranking 7.5/10
As I only completed it a couple of hours ago some thoughts might change with time and if there are DLC's or other information after time has passed. My thoughts are also emotionally charged and sporadically disjointed but I will try to keep on point. Speaking of points I'm going to bullet point each thought to try and not ramble as I always do so I can get personal catharsis from writing my feelings out. So this is definitely also a release post because I need to get my feelings out.
Also has Encanto spoilers but I've pointed out where but just to add prior so it can be easily avoided.
The first thing I did after completing the game during the credits was check Google which of course took me to Reddit. This,
was the first post I saw and I've been reading and mulling over it since.
From that post and other comments I did feel some relief that Clive is alive. And for me and thankfully others that Joshua and Dion are alive.
I don't think Clive wrote the book, I think it was Joshua. Even though Tomes gave Clive his quill he also said that Joshua was also quite the historian or something like that. Now I could be misremembering but even so I don't think it's Clive who wrote it.
And speaking on that, I don't like seeing the far off future. I always feel sad when magic is gone because it's so important for this type of fantasy style. I get that it's powerful but the world looses it's spark for me. Like recently I watched Encanto with my friends. Avoid this next part of text if you don't want Encanto spoilers.
Encanto Spoilers start:
Like at the end I was so happy they all kept their magic. I mostly always dislike it when stories lose their magic because that's what made them special. That's what symbolised their strengths in a fancy and literally magical way.
Encanto Spoilers end.
I know it's Squares route to always say yadda yadda humans are magical without magic but they spend their whole damn games with magic as a core standard. I know 16 is different to an extent but it feels like overkill and almost making it too Earth-like. Like I myself am not a stable person so I need these stories to boost me up, so coming back down this way doesn't feel complete or good for me. I think it would have been better if maybe dominants wouldn't be possible anymore or just that simply the blight would stop from the aether being sucked from the land and that everyone would have the chance to use magic. Like magic wasn't the problem it was the abuse of magic so getting rid of it feels too drastic and even too easy. Like Ultima made humanity here, so they are magical beings. The flaw if any is that not all humans can use magic so ideally breaking the original crystal would restore balance to the planet. I'm sure the curse would still be present in a way of overuse but that's what happens to anything with overuse. If you exercise too much you're at risk of damaging your body from pushing too hard etc and as it's balanced now the blight would stop spreading and eventually the land would recover especially with the new survival techniques born from The Hideaway.
I get symbolism is present in all Final Fantasy games, but when it comes at a cost of clear closure it's a problem. I was finally feeling relieved that this game had clear intentions. Such as yes the people have sex lol. Yes they swear. Yes they bleed. But suddenly at the end we aren't given that? 15 really did a number on me and not just because of the ending it was a lot of issues I had so I was tentative with this but as I trust the XIV team and as I was going through the story I was starting to believe in a clear triumphant victory. But no it's just vague to be... I dunno why. Like after all the uncertainty in the game having a clear happy ending would have been so so good and appreciated. I don't feel the catharsis I needed and I expected. Even with the hope and logical thoughts that Clive and co are alive I don't feel closure and it really hurts so bad. And yes I do get heavily invested but that's just my way for many personal reasons but even so I've seen a lot of others feel the same way so that is something at least.
At least they didn't kill Torgal. However I wish he had more of a stronger role. He was our soul mate. I understand how he couldn't get on Bahamut's back but I dunno maybe he could have howled and restored Clive's health during a part of the fight, like how our friends voices cheered us on. And their first meeting was lackluster. Especially after we see how tireless Torgal was collecting Clive's things. There are a lot of jarring disconnects at times which sucks considering a lot of things are said to connect characters and events. A few lines here or there would go a long way.
Continuing on that thought, I was really expecting and then hoping for past scenes and gameplay of the brothers childhood but they had to just jam the knife in at the end. Like it just hurts, really hurts and I hate that. I was also expecting and hoping for politics but that all ends at Phoenix Gate. Like the disappointment when we get to the city of Sanbreque and the brothel only to not explore it but then move fast on rails away from it and never to step once in its city properly. Like that grand palace hello!? I was expecting some sort of masquerade stuff infiltration and seeing our mother there only she doesn't know it's us. But nope they just go off to Twinside but then we can't even explore there and then it gets flown up into the sky like? We're only stuck in the hideaway that we can't edit which would have been really cool and when we're not we're stuck in very similar landscapes outside which are pretty but it really makes the world feel small. Especially that the blight has already limited our exploration having the cities we have being taken away from us really sucks. And Barnabas! I was hoping he'd invite us for a grand dinner and during it we'd get drugged and hallucinate because he's aiding Ultima to easily take possession and then it'd switch to Joshua and we'd play as him going with Jill and Gav to infiltrate the castle and rescue Clive. Going further into my fantasy lol, imagine after recovery which would maybe take some time with Joshua reminding Clive of who he is with flashback game scenes, and maybe even after Clive comes back they end up recruiting Barnabas but I know that's definitely a stretch haha! The point is I felt we weren't given the full tour of the world and I know all Final Fantasy games are lineal but this was very on rails only stopping for side quests and with me personally running around to listen to updated voice commentary on what NPC's had to say which was cool but also distracting and long but I didn't mind especially at the time because I was enjoying figuring out the world.
Too many side characters. I really did like the lore account and information for each NPC big or small but at some point some characters really should have been one instead of two. Example Gaute and the woman next to him (I've forgotten her name and cba to look) who gives us appreciation points, should have been one person. It would also give more chances to have a stronger character we could get to know more and bond with.
Along with that was the bond and war table really necessary? I appreciated it at the time and I do still appreciate the effort but this energy could have been used for making the ending not unnecessarily vague or having all the characters voice lined and not being randomly non voiced. Like I thought my game had a bug before I realised it was doing that style for those parts but it was really confusing and not expected!
On reflection I don't think Metaia disappeared or died, I think it went to tell the moon the wish to be granted and will be back again. But if not I think it definitely went to tell the moon which also symbolises a power higher than what Ultima wanted us to believe. I think it also shows when Clive senses and partially sees his dad at his grave showing bonds and life beyond death which is extremely comforting and valid.
It would be great to learn on Leviathan properly. I know it was destroyed but perhaps there still in a defendant. Some have said it could be the baby in Edda or even Gav who is unaware. I think it's probably a whole other character we might meet in DLC however it'll be something to see how to manage that post world without magic or they do an alternative timeline or even go back in the past though that would also be sad because we know they are 'lost'.
I feel they killed off big characters too quickly which made the passing off. I knew Cid would die from his constant coughing blood and also because he's 'old'. Most characters die if they're old in these games or they are full side NPC's that half their character is being the old person. Also because he's too powerful of a character and they need Clive to take the reigns but it would have been really cool if Cid was still alive and we helped him recover, it would have been cool to have quests for him. Benedikta too, I feel like we didn't get enough of her. She drove a lot of the story well and then was cut out. I feel like they were inspired clearly by GoT but as it went on went back to final fantasy style which had a clash of styles hence the vague ending which most likely would have not been so stark if the full game was that style.
Oh and Jill. Along again with the wish that characters had more character Jill is one. I like Jill she is just above the line of being a basic boring pretty love interest. With Ice unfeeling it would have been great to have Clive melt her icy heart and in doing so she would cool his fiery anger. And I feel Clive didn't get angry enough. Like her whole story part was once again on rails, I feel like we got more emotion and character from Dory's side story because we got to read and somewhat experience this horror. We never one on one talk to Jill about our experiences and she hers to us. And on that I really thought we'd start the game from Clive being imprisoned and branded. We really missed out on a lot of lore building that really would have elevated the driving force of characters.
The bar was stupid and a waste of time. This would have been a great moment to be able to de-stress with the cast and get to know them more. Ben Starr Clive's voice said Clive was funny at least to him so I was expecting more funny and light hearted scenes but it's note like moments and it's not super funny or even cheeky just aha yeah. I wish we got the chance to learn about Clive. The whole game is about revenge to getting the choice to live and throughout that Clive is only that. What does he like to eat or not eat like Joshua and his carrots, does he like music, what does he want to do in life aside from this grand dream. We never get full bonding and comfort moments with the brothers, only a small part that ends in the space of a brief punch.
Our mother's death was disappointing. I think because the reunion was so quick and sudden. I was thinking she had more play in the story and also her bloodline thing makes no sense it's our dads bloodline not hers unless there's some unspoken fucked up GoTs shit going on lol. I was hoping when getting the eikons she'd realise that not only was we strong but far stronger than anyone and try to manipulate us to get a piece of our glory only to fall from grace from rejection just like she had rejected us all these years. Death of a character doesn't always have to be actual death but social death would be amazing. The disgraced Ana groveling to her son's would have been so so damn delicious. But naaa she just cuts her throat. As I said I was expecting and now wished for more political gameplay. Even giving us choices of how to approach a crystal would have been cool planning it, giving Vivian's map a really cool play. And having our Uncle help us with politics.
Like with Torgal I wish we got more chances of love with him and Ambrosia. They stayed loyal all this time and Clive doesn't even get the option to pet her.
I wish we got more clothes and not just us but the cast. We go to the desert in our leather clothes. The only person who ages is us and that's getting slightly more hairy lol like Jill looks the same. I thought the side quest for fabric would get her a new dress but nope.
I'm getting a bit fatigued now but I'll try to finish my thoughts. I gave this a 7.5/10 because of the ending. -2 for Clive and Joshua and 1.5 for Dion because although I want him alive I can understand if he did in fact die though the hope of him seeing with his flower and reuniting with Terrence and maybe even adopting the girl would be really comforting.
I think the only way I could fully be at peace is if DLC not only gave closure and a true happy ending but more loose ends tied up and a look to a fresh bright world not some future book with random people. After all the world isn't as important without the people in it and even more the people we know make it what it is. That's even what Clive said to Ultima that his bonds made him stronger, that because of love for others than himself he was able to beat him.
It's a shame, I was seriously contemplating getting platinum but now I don't want to even look at the screenshots I took and I want to delete them which I might later.
But yeah I do hope for clarity. Clive and Joshua and Dion deserve it. They deserve the world they fought for.
As for now I'm trying to recover, even if it was the ending I wanted and expected finishing a game is always bittersweet. I've been crying and felt shit so writing this helped a little to get it at least off my chest.
🗒️Notes: As usual there might be spelling and grammar mistakes. I might add more thoughts later. These are my thoughts and opinions which rely heavily on my strong emotions. I get extremely attached to games and things for personal reasons so my thoughts might come as even more personal because I take it too heart which is just my way I try to get past that but it's hard so I don't want to force myself. Anyway I'm nodding off now as I took meds for a headache lol so yeah. At least I don't have to worry about spoilers which was stressing me not stop whilst playing which made me anxious to complete it.
Also I wanted to make this short but as always it's long but yeah. I wonder if anyone read all this lol either way I got it out so I don't have to keep talking back and forth to myself as hard as I was. But if you did and even more so agree that means a lot because I'm a fragile person and I know I'm weird or I just don't manage things well so when I see people agree or I see others have my similar thoughts it helps. Anyway sleep now, I've been yapping for 2-3 hours.
New additions
I do like Clive and Jill together and how they were mostly portrayed. Same as most of the relationships but I just wanted more. I know they are busy with the plan and also have to be to defeat Ultima in time but they even said at the end Ultima would wait lol so totally could have time before then or before Clive was ready. I feel it was done well for a FF game and in general Japanese RPG games but the bar isn't very high so can't really compare. Anyway more talking moments would have been top.
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Part I
A continuation of the Barty Crouch Sr. fic I am slowly poking my way through.
His blood ran cold as he approached the holding cells, and not because of the ominous sentries stationed nearby, grim and silent beneath dark hoods.
“Father?” The youngest of the prisoners gripped the bars of his cell with both hands, eyes wide and terrified as he stared up at the newcomers.
The color leeched from Barty’s face until he was as white as the boy. “What have you done?” He demanded in a hoarse voice. His chest constricted, his breathing labored, but he forced out the words. “I taught you right from wrong! I taught you the dangers of associating with…with Dark Arts scum!”
He pointed a shaking finger at one of the men sharing a cell with his son. One of the Lestrange brothers, although he didn’t know which was which. They seemed to come as a pair. The man spat contemptuously at his feet.
“Father, I didn’t do it!” His son pleaded, pressing his face against the bars.
“Do not lie to me! You were caught red-handed!” His gaze swept his son, taking in the state of his robes. They were as burnt and torn as those of the Aurors.
“I’m not!” The boy said. “I swear I’m not!”
“Daddy doesn’t look happy to see his son,” A singsong voice came from the lone woman of the group.
Barty regarded her coldly. She would have been beautiful if not for the haughty sneer marring her face. Thick black wavy hair fell past her shoulders. She, at least, was no surprise. Her grandfather had been his mother’s cousin, but their descendants had diverged sharply on which side of this conflict to ally with.
“Bellatrix Black,” he said, matching her contempt. “As happy as your cousin will be to see you join him in Azkaban, I expect. You can explain to him how the Ministry stopped both of you in your foul tracks.”
(He knew that wasn’t precisely true; they had caught both of them only after they had committed shocking atrocities. But he was scrabbling for any sort of mental foothold in the wake of seeing his son in chains.)
“Lestrange,” she corrected with a cackle, seemingly unperturbed by the position she found herself in.
Unlike the pale-faced boy, manacled arms wrapped around himself, who had fallen silent but continued to watch Barty in mute supplication. Barty glanced at the two men sharing the cell with his son and then back at Bellatrix, ignoring the younger Barty’s pleading face with difficulty.
“Rodolphus and I are married now,” Bellatrix said. “A little spot of torture was such a nice way to celebrate.” She cocked her head, smiling mockingly. “You should have been there. It would have been such a lovely way of bonding with your son, hmm?”
“If I had been there,” Barty said, one hand curling into a fist in the pocket of his robe, “all of you could have been rotting in Azkaban sooner.”
“Yes, why ever did you hide?” Carmichael asked. “We’ve had to postpone your Azkaban honeymoon.”
“It’s hardly a honeymoon,” Wardell Crickerly corrected. “We don’t place married couples in the same cells, you know.”
A headache was building in Barty’s temple. He massaged his forehead. The nearness of the dementors wasn’t helping, but he wouldn’t risk sending them away.
Rabastan stuck his face through the bars of his cell and glowered at Barty and the Aurors. “Laugh all you want. You’ll get what’s coming to you one day, blood traitor.”
Crickerly leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded. “Is that so? It seems to me you’ll have a frightful time carrying out that threat when you’re stuck in Azkaban. You ought to have learned to listen to me when I was prefect, Lestrange.”
“Listen to you? You’re conspiring with Mudbloods.” Rabastan cast a venomous look in Clive Carmichael’s direction.
Carmichael was at the cell doors in a flash, brandishing his wand in Rabastan’s face. “Look here–”
Barty stepped between Carmichael and the cell, lifting his own wand in warning. “Put that away. This isn’t an interrogation.”
Carmichael grudgingly slid his wand into the pocket of his robes.
“Tell nobody we’ve apprehended the suspects until we’ve set a date for the trial,” Barty said.
Carmichael stared at him in astonishment. “But everyone should know they’re no longer at large! This is headline news! We—”
Crickerly flicked his wand in Carmichael’s direction, silencing him. Barty didn’t bother reprimanding him. He didn’t want to hear the rest of Carmichael’s foolish, insensitive sentence.
Headline news indeed! The Daily Prophet would certainly find this worthy of the front page, but not for the reasons Carmichael was thinking.
Barty dreaded the day the wider wizarding world found out his son’s involvement. Which they must, of course. But he wanted it to be on his own terms, when he could forestall speculation that he’d known and turned a blind eye due to favoritism.
“Send them to Azkaban until their trial.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from his son’s cell, followed by frantic pleas. “Father, father! No! Don’t leave me! Father!”
Neither of the Aurors reacted to the younger Barty’s cries, although Carmichael nearly drew his wand again when Bellatrix called after them, “The Longbottoms were the lucky ones! The Dark Lord won’t be so merciful to the rest of you!”
Crickerly grabbed Carmichael’s wrist. “Don’t let her rile you up,” he whispered. Bellatrix laughed in response, a shrill sound that echoed throughout the dungeon.
Carmichael glared sourly and allowed Crickerly to lead him out of the dungeons, taking a moment to point his wand at his mouth as they left.
Barty stalked behind them. His son reached through the bars as he went past, still babbling in near incoherent fright. “Father! Please! Wait! Listen to me! Father! Don’t go, don’t leave me! Father, wait! Don’t go!”
Barty yanked his robe away from the boy’s grasping fingers, refusing to answer. But his son’s piteous cries echoed in his mind long after he’d left the dungeons behind.
#Barty Crouch Sr#Barty Crouch Jr#bellatrix lestrange#harry potter fanfiction#my writing#also like a billion Auror OCs
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— A FAIRYTALE BEGINNING | chapter 5
burn the midnight oil
pairing: Loki / f!half-Asgardian!Reader
word count: 5,101
summary: you tell your friends of the truths you have learnt
in this chapter: allusions to anxiety, some brief flirting, a sprinkle of very light angst, and some cute and fluffy blanket sharing with Loki
author notes: we don't want to talk about how many photos of Clive Russell (the actor who portrays Tyr in Thor: The Dark World and the physical interpretation I'm using for this AU) i looked at to figure out what colour his eyes are. the things i do for this AU i swear...
( previous chapter | read on ao3 | series masterlist )
You flee class as soon as the lesson is over, wound too tight from the information that had been flung at you.
It had turned into an acid burning your throat, making it hard to speak. The reveal had rocked your universe enough on its own. The blatant confirmation from your king and the jarl had been too much for you to process right then.
You had left your friends and cousin behind without a word.
Loki hadn’t tried to stop you, hadn’t even attempted to follow after you as you all but ran out.
You hide on one of the docks beneath the palace. This part of the palace is empty at this early afternoon hour, the perfect place for you to go unseen. Loki would realise where you’d run to, likely had known where you were headed to the moment you left. You know he won’t come after you down here, and wouldn’t tell Thor or Volstagg where you’d gone either.
Part of you is grateful for the time alone to process the truths you’d been slapped with. Another part screams and rages at the knowledge that none of them will come and comfort you.
It isn’t until you’re alone and tucked away on the floor of one of the cargo skiffs that you allow everything to buzz up and take over. Every thought is a barbed question, a horrid wondering.
How could your uncle have done such a thing? Why had he done it?
How could your mother still look at someone who had betrayed her so utterly with so much love and unfaltering trust?
You stay down at the docks far longer than you intended when you realise how far the sun has fallen, glad that history was your last required lesson for the day. You’re entirely certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle another lesson today. There’s too much swirling in your head, too much weighing on your heart, for you to have found even a modest amount of focus for your tactics or weaponry lessons.
It’s getting late. There’s still plenty of daylight left, but you have to return to your family’s suite before dinner.
Like every night, you’re meeting up with Loki to study some of what you learnt today after dinner. Thor might join, and so might Volstagg or Baldr if they’re able. But before that, you need to sneak back into your rooms to drop off most of your textbooks.
You’re hoping that you don’t run into your family doing so. But of course, the Norns are not on your side this afternoon.
You’re walking down the hall to your own suite quietly when you see your mother in the large sitting room in this suite that’s shared by your family. She’s sitting at the low table, looking over several sheets of parchment while tapping the feather of her quill against her lips. You pause, swallowing heavily.
“Mamma?” You shift on your feet, not really sure how to ask the questions that you have.
“Yes, my little starlight?” your mother asks, not looking up right away. When you stay silent she looks up at you, a worried frown on her face before she’s even finished looking up. “Darling? What’s wrong?”
“I just. I have a question.” Your jaw works, your grip on your textbooks tightening while you look at your feet. You hear your mother pad barefoot over to you, kneeling and cupping your face with one hand.
“Talk to me, my star. What has you so wound up? Did something happen with your friends?” You lean into her hand as you continue avoiding her gaze.
“Amora said something in class today, and it’s been bothering me. It’s bothering me a lot, Mamma.”
“Why don’t you tell me what she said and we’ll talk about it.”
You swallow again, and then look her in the eyes, voice hushed and trembling as you ask, “Why did Uncle Sveinn side with Jǫtunheimr?”
Kára recoils, her eyes going wide, hands curling into fists, and her jaw tensing. Her voice is low as she all but hisses out, “Amora said what.”
You shift, uncomfortable as you tell her haltingly about today’s lesson. Instead of answering, your mother pulls you into a tight embrace, telling you not to worry about what anyone — not even King Njálsson and Jarl Kötluson — has said about your uncle.
You might have believed her if her hold wasn’t so suffocating and her words so heated.
You slink away to your room when you’re able to get away. Once your door clicks shut, you slide down against it, books still tucked tightly to your chest. You’d heard what your mother said, but you’d also seen her reaction to today’s lesson.
No matter why your uncle had done it, he had betrayed his soulmate.
If a soulmate can betray the one they call their own — no matter the reason — is finding them worth it?
◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦
It takes time, but you manage to collect yourself and put your textbooks away.
All you want to do now is stay here, maybe curl up in your bed and sleep, but you don’t want to worry Loki more than you know you already have. You take out your holotablet, looking at the last Raven message he’d sent you while you’d been down at the docks.
Are you feeling well, darling?
You hadn’t answered. Didn’t know how to put into words what you were feeling to your best friend. Are you angry or confused? Feeling lost or feeling hopeless?
All you really know is that something in you hurts. That today has stripped away so many assumptions you’ve had about soulmates and replaced them with sharp truths. You don’t like what you’ve learned. You want to go back to this morning, before so much was ripped apart in your mind.
You tuck your holotablet into the pocket of your dress, right alongside your quill tube and lip salve. Brushing your hands on your skirts you leave your rooms, intent on making your way to the dining hall to grab something quick before meeting up with Loki in the library.
As you’re walking down the hall towards the door that leads out of your family’s suite, you can hear hard whispers coming from your family’s sitting room. You pause, recognising the voices as those of your parents. You edge closer, wondering what they’re speaking of that they’d whisper in their own home.
“— that child cannot be allowed to continue like this, Týr. This isn’t the first time our daughter has come home upset because of those sisters,” you hear your mother hiss as you pause just out of sight.
You hear a heavy sigh from your father, the way his boots knock against the hard stone floor as he walks a few steps. He says, “What would you have me do, my love? Ask Odin to forbid talk of your soulmate’s role in the war? We both knew that she would learn about this eventually.”
“Not like this. Not coming home looking as if she had been crying!” The wobble in her words lessens as she continues. “I don’t care that they’re wards of the Crown, not when it comes to our daughter.”
“You and Sveinn have had years to tell her, Kára. I have stayed out of it because you made it clear it was a matter for you and Sveinn to tell her about, but it’s time to tell her.”
You peer around the wall, looking at your parents. Your mother’s back is to you, tense and with balled fists as she stares your father straight in the eye. Your father has a much looser-looking frame, but the arm across his chest and the other twirling the ends of his deep-grey beard give away that he’s far more affected by this conversation than he’s letting on.
Just as your mother goes to say something, your father’s pale-grey eyes catch your own and he says her name softly as he points to you. Your mother spins around, and you drop your gaze as you grip the frame of the doorway.
There’s the hushed sound of your father’s boots against the stone floor as he approaches. He kneels down a couple of feet away, saying your name softly. You look up at him, and he holds his hand out to you, palm up.
“Come here, little Firefly,” he says gently. You bypass his hand entirely, almost tackling him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head against your arm. A soft oof, and his hands wrap you up in a hug.
“Welcome home, Babba,” you say into his hair that’s covering your face.
“Thank you, my star. Are you feeling well after what happened earlier?” You nod hesitantly. He rubs a hand gently over your back. “May we talk to you more about what happened in your lesson? You uncle won’t be home until tomorrow, but your mother and I want to talk about what you heard today.”
Again you nod, and when you cling tighter to his neck he adjusts his hold, lifts you up and carries you over to the couches, and sits down. You hear your mother sit down and you look over at her.
Worry is etched into her face, so you reach the hand on that side out to her. She takes it with both of hers, brushing her thumbs over the back in soothing circles.
She takes a deep breath. Looks between your father and you before looking back down at your hand.
And then your mother tells you about why Sveinn had done what he had.
◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦
You peer around a bookshelf, looking at the open area with a table and two divans that occupy the spot you and Loki study. A smile breaks across your face when you see the youngest prince sitting at the table already, holotablet in front of him and textbooks scattered on the desk.
You skip over, hugging him from behind and giving him a swift kiss on the cheek. “Good evening Loki.”
“Good evening, Firefly.” You hear the warmth in his voice as he places one hand on your arms circling his shoulders, leaning back into the embrace. “Thor will be joining us soon.”
“Lovely, he can help me with whatever it was we were supposed to be learning in arithmetic today.”
“What, not going to accept my help this time?” You can hear the grin he’s sporting as you rest your chin on his head.
“You purposely tried to teach me how to do the problems wrong last time. If it wasn’t for Thor, I would have handed in equations done completely wrong.”
The light laugh Loki lets out makes you grin and you shake your head as you release him and plant yourself in the seat to his left.
“You are the worst,” you say lightly. The youngest prince merely gives you a teasing bow, still grinning as he keeps his eyes on you. You can’t help the soft, short laugh you let out.
“May I ask you something?” Loki asks, once your laughter has died out. You nod, so he asks, “Did you know that Jarl Kötluson is the son of Lady Rúnudóttir?”
“He is?” you lean onto the table, a baffled expression on your face as Loki nods. “I never would have guessed. I don’t really know much about the Gymirsgardian jarls outside of their names and which city they rule. Mother and Uncle never really told me all that much about them.”
You grimace a bit as you say the last bit. It’s not as if they’re hiding something by not saying much, they just don’t like to talk much about other Drekasál. Or much about their lives before they settled on Asgard. Especially when it comes to Gymirsgard and the Drekasál who call that realm home.
You know they’re both Gymirsgardian, and that they come from the seaside city of Krossavík. You know that you have a few family members still in Krossavík — an aunt, you think, and a few cousins all on your mother’s side. Beyond that though, you only hear the occasional story about them from before they were soulmates.
“They do that often,” Loki says, lowering his gaze as he runs a finger along the table’s wood grain.
You look away, staring out the large window across from you where daylight has nearly faded and given way to the bright night. “No they don’t.”
You watch him freeze out of the corner of your eye. His mouth opens, closes, opens again, but he doesn’t say anything.
Thankfully, Thor arrives then, loud and yelling for the two of you. You yell his name, and he appears around the same corner you had.
“Ah! There you two are.” He drops his textbooks and Járnbjǫrn onto the table. “Why were neither of you at dinner?”
“I was with my family,” you tell Thor. The two of you look at his brother.
“I ate at the beginning of dinner hours and then came here.” Loki — eyes still averted — grabs his holotablet and you watch it vanish into his pocket dimension before he pulls the arithmetic textbook off the small stack that sits between the two of you.
Thor smiles, letting out a chuckle before launching into a retelling of events from dinner that you and Loki missed.
Despite Thor’s usual cheery demeanour, you can’t find it in yourself to be truly engaged with the stories. You laugh, you smile, you talk, but you can barely pull your eyes away from the equations you’re writing out from the textbook to solve. Even Thor planting one foot on the table and the other in his chair isn’t enough to make you look away for long.
You’re still too caught up in what Loki had said about your mother and uncle.
You’re also caught up with the fact that you’d knowingly lied to him.
You push it down and away, focusing on solving the equations with your friends, glad when the conversation moves away from what happened at dinner and to Thor asking if you want to go two-on-two tomorrow since you hadn’t been up to it today.
Both you and Loki have to decline, knowing that after your regular lessons you’ll be helping tend to the magical plants in Frigga’s garden. You make a plan to do it the day after that, as long as Volstagg will be free to join as well.
Conversation wanes, turning to the problem as Thor helps you with understanding how to work out the equation you’re stuck on solving. You understand it better the more Thor explains it than you did when your arithmetic tutor explained it for whatever reason. Not that you’re really complaining, you’re just glad you do end up understanding it.
Once you have the formula down, you stare at the equations as you nonchalantly say, “I overheard my parents talking about what happened in class today because I told my mother about what Amora said about my uncle.”
Your quill is the only one that doesn’t stop moving.
“I suppose they were unhappy about what was said,” Loki says. You hear his quill resume its movement.
“You could say that. Babba asked if Mamma wanted him to ask your father to forbid talk of the war because she doesn’t like the way Uncle Sveinn was talked about.” There are mixed sounds of outrage and confusion from the princes. You continue with, “They caught me listening, and told me about what really happened with Uncle and Lady Ignadóttir.”
You finally look up at the princes, looking between them both to catch what they’re feeling about this.
Thor is easy to read. The way his mouth is in a thin, tight line and the storm brewing on his face tells you he’s angry, agitated. You think most of it has to do with what your father had asked, but you know some of it is lingering from the revelation in class about your uncle’s betrayal.
Thor is outwardly and extremely loyal to Asgard. The second prince of Asgard seeks to one day lead Asgard’s warriors after Baldr takes the throne, much as the late Prince Vé — third and youngest son of the late King Borr — had before his passing.
Your uncle fighting on Jǫtunheimr’s side when he had been considered a warrior of Asgard must feel like a different sort of betrayal to Thor than it had to you.
Loki is… harder to read. There’s a tightness to his expression, but you’re not able to pick apart what it means. There’s too much neutrality in it for you to guess at what he might be thinking.
You suppose that he might feel similar to Thor, but for a different reason. Loki likes to know things, to learn them even if he won’t use them. Censoring your uncle’s role in the last war is probably enough to agitate someone who desires knowledge.
Loki puts his quill down and reclines in his seat in a way you’ve seen him do before when he’s curious and expecting to learn something distasteful. Gesturing at you with his other hand he says, “Tell us.”
Your mother’s words wash over you, and you relive the moment as you tell the princes what she had told you.
“I need you to know that I’m not upset with you for telling me about earlier, nor am I upset with King Njálsson and Jarl Kötluson for telling you about your uncle,” your mother begins. There’s a hesitancy with her words that you’re entirely unused to with her, as if she’s struggling with each one. “While His Majesty and His Grace were not the Drekasál I expected to be visiting while you were being taught of Asgard’s history with our people, I still should have told you about Sveinn’s role in the war.
“It’s true that Sveinn did not fight for Asgard when Odin went to war with Jǫtunheimr. I assume that you are aware that the kidnapping of Odin’s sister was not the true catalyst of the war?”
You nod. “Lord Alfarr said that the All-Father was negotiating with King Fárbauti for the return of Princess Laufey. He said that things appeared to be going well, but then King Fárbauti attacked a city on Midgard unprovoked and tried to conquer the realm, triggering Eldgard to take up arms and ask Asgard for assistance to drive them from the realm. The All-Father brought with him the Einherjar and the Valkyrjur, and alongside our Himingarpar they drove Jǫtunheimr’s forces back to their realm. With negotiations ruined, All-Father Odin followed so he could rescue his sister, but she and Lady Ignadóttir died while Útgarðr was under siege.”
Kára is quiet for a few moments before she says, “Dagmær and Sveinn were sent by Odin when negotiations began to protect Laufey. Dagmær was Laufey’s soulmate, and Sveinn was close to both of them so Odin trusted he would protect the princess.
“I know very little about what transpired during those months in the capital, but your uncle did tell me that they tried to escape while Útgarðr was under siege. They nearly made it out but ended up caught in the middle of a skirmish on the walls. Asgard had sent valdrósar and berserkir to storm the Frost Giants upon the walls, and so there was little choice but to fight against both sides in order to try and escape.
“Dagmær and Laufey died on those walls. Sveinn only survived because he was knocked off and landed outside the walls. Your father was the one who found him, and brought him back to the medical tent in grave condition. Once the war was over he was brought back to Asgard, and when Sveinn awoke Odin ordered everyone out so he could hear of what transpired and learn the truth of what happened to his sister. She’d already been sent to the stars, but no one knew what happened.”
Silence reigns strong for several moments before you realise your mother has finished speaking.
“Why did Amora say the two of you fought?” you ask. Your voice is soft with worry, both for what she will say and also for what is so obviously a subject she is struggling to give you the answers to.
For several moments, there's only the sound of three heartbeats and three beings breathing. The pinched expression on your mother's face is hard to parse, but it's one that makes you realise she's struggling to string together words for you.
“I was on the wall, trying to clear it so we could storm the city. My only goal was to make it to the keep and find my soulmate.” She looks away towards the open balcony, a far away look on her face as she searches for how to continue. “I don’t remember much from my time on the wall. I’ve heard more than once that those below saw us fighting, so while Amora wasn’t incorrect with what she said, neither of us remember ever meeting up there.”
You’re quick to clamber over into your mother’s lap, and just as quick to hug her tight.
Your mother’s familiarity and friendship with Lady Ignadóttir and Princess Borsdóttir are obvious from how she refers to them. You can’t imagine what it feels like, and the idea of losing any of your friends is uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, Mamma.”
Kára’s arms wrap tightly around you, and she presses a kiss to the top of your head before resting her chin on it.
“It will be okay, little starlight. I’m sorry that your uncle and I didn’t take the time to explain this to you before this came up in your lessons. That’s on us.”
You blink a few times as you finish telling your friends about what your mother had told you, looking back down to the equations as you let them take it all in.
Loki is the first one to break the tense silence.
“I admit, that was not what I anticipated.” He tilts his head back as he rubs at his jaw, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Thor slaps a hand on the table, making you jump while Loki calmly looks at his brother. With a smile, Thor says, “Well, if Father let your uncle live then all must have been forgiven. Would have been a shame otherwise.”
You give Thor a quizzical look, confused by his use of ‘otherwise’ and how quickly he seems to move past what you told them about their aunt’s death.
There’s an awkward atmosphere now as Thor also returns to solving his equations without another word. When you look at Loki to ask him if Thor is okay you see that he’s also returned to solving his equations, looking just as relaxed as he had before you brought it all up.
It’s almost like the conversation you just had never happened.
An uneasy feeling fills you as you quietly return to solving your equations. It lasts a few seconds before you shake your head and blink. You rub your eyes with your thumb and forefinger, blink a few times more after, and then return to your equations.
Silence reigns for a few minutes between the three of you before Thor starts asking how you and Loki are coming along with your equations. The conversation moves from that to what you’d briefly discussed with Loki between arithmetic and history about throwing spears on different realms.
Thor sides with you, and the half-argument, half-discussion quickly dissolves into the three of you flipping sides and making different points as it suits you. There’s a lot of laughter and several smiles between you as the evening wanes on.
By the time you’ve finished studying for the day, Thor has moved to one of the two divans and sprawled across it, textbooks open and laying on the floor next to him with Járnbjǫrn on top as he occupies himself with something on his holotablet. Loki has settled himself on the other divan, laying with his head resting on the long, high arm and reading a book he’s laid against his bent leg with one hand.
You’d told them they could leave — your eyes flick to the clock on your holotablet — an hour ago. Neither of them had wanted to leave, insisting that they were fine to stay with you until you finished working on your essay for Álfheimr geography in relation to the population for the kingdom of Andlàngr.
You close your textbook and tuck your quill back into its tube, both trying to not be too noisy but to also make it obvious to both that you’re finally done for the night.
Thor looks up, bleary-eyed and smiling.
“Finally done, Firefly?” Thor asks, his voice low and rumbling.
“Eight pages should keep Lady Yrsa from asking me where it is again,” you grumble.
“You did take an extra three days,” Loki says, a teasing edge to his words as he turns his head to look at you with a soft smile. Something in you drops at the way he looks, hair splayed across the divan’s arm and the forearm of his free hand resting against his raised knee. You feel warm, heat blistering its way up your neck and rushing to cover your face.
You look away, shuffling your essay pages into prim and proper order as you say, “Maybe next time you shouldn’t distract me from finishing it.”
“Perhaps you should have tried harder to stay focused on your essay than on me,” Loki quips. You make the horrible choice of looking back up at your best friend, caught by eyes glittering with humour even though his smile is far more subdued than you know he’s feeling.
“And with that, I should be off to bed,” Thor says suddenly, quickly scooping his textbooks and Járnbjǫrn up off the floor and moving to leave. “Don’t stay up too late, I’ll see you both at breakfast!”
You and Loki yell Good night at him before you look back at Loki, pointing at where Thor disappeared with a confused expression. Loki shrugs, just as confused as you are about why his brother left so suddenly.
Usually, he and Loki make sure to escort you back to your family’s suite before returning to the royal wing a few floors above yours. While it’s not the first time Thor has left before, he’s never done so in quite such a speedy manner.
You make your way over to Loki, textbook and essay in hand as you flop down next to him. He plucks his textbook and your essay out of your hand, vanishing them into his pocket dimension. You know he’ll hold on to your essay until class tomorrow.
“What are you reading?” You ask, peering at the open pages.
“A copy of a collection of myths and legends, compiled by Åse Haraldsdóttir from when Grandfather was a boy.” He shows you the cover, which is a myriad of too many dark shapes for your eyes to really understand until he gently picks up your hand and uses your index finger to trace various darker shapes engraved in the hard cover. As your finger traces over each shape, he tells you what they are. “Garmr, the Hound of Death and Guardian of Hel’s Gate. This is Fjalar, Herald of Ragnarǫk. Vígi, the first einherjar warrior.”
You look up at him, mouth slightly ajar — less from the tingle that makes its way up your arm from where his skin meets yours and more from how he knew just how to make sure you understood the cover that has too little colour difference for you to really see.
There’s a flutter in your chest as you slowly lower your head, cheek finding its rest point on the hollow where his shoulder and collarbone meet. A very tiny smile dances on the edges of your lips at the way he trails off. Suddenly everything becomes light, warm, peaceful.
“Would you read something to me?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper so you don’t break whatever has fallen over the two of you.
“What are you in the mood for? Something harrowing and fun? A legend of great renown?” His arm comes around you, a blanket appearing over you both as his hand is laid lightly on your waist.
You hum lightly as you read the names of the different chapters in the table of contents, tapping one near the bottom. “What’s that one?”
“A legend about two powerful beings who wield fire and ice and bring about a new era to Yggdrasil. It’s part adventure, part love story.”
“I like love stories,” you murmur, turning on your side. Right before you lay your hand over his stomach you ask, “Is this okay?”
“Yes, it is. Make yourself comfortable, darling.”
The endearment warms you inside as you lay your hand down tentatively. Loki clears his throat, the sound harsher and louder than anything either of you has made since Thor left.
“Long ago, the realms of Yggdrasil were beset upon by enemies from beyond the World Tree. Chaos and uncertainty reigned in every realm, for this was the time of our ancestors when Asgard was not as strong as it is now, and the King of Asgard was not known as the All-Father or the Protector of the Nine Realms…”
Loki’s voice is a lullaby, even as he regales you with how the two heroes of the story fight all the odds stacked against them. You hear how time and again the one the story only refers to as the Fire Bearer goes toe-to-toe for their great love, the Ice Bearer. No description of either is given, but faces of your own imagination dance behind your eyelids once they slide closed as you continue to listen.
You drift closer to sleep, skating alongside it as you try to keep focused on the story. You want to know how it ends, want to remember hearing this tale for the first time. The feeling of his thumb running lightly on your side makes you melt, and a soft sigh escapes.
You may as well be asleep, and while you distantly register that Loki’s fallen silent you don’t make any move to even try to get up. You’re comfortable, relaxed.
There’s the feeling of something soft brushing across your forehead, and a gentle murmuring of him telling you, “Sleep, darling.”
And you do, content in the knowledge that you’re safe and being watched over by the person you trust most.
( next chapter )
Find the lore notes for this chapter here!
#loki x reader#loki x you#loki x y/n#loki imagine#loki laufeyson x reader#loki laufeyson x you#loki laufeyson x y/n#a fairytale beginning#the prince and his dragon#of fire and of ice#amphi writes
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Season 10, Episode 11: There's No Place Like Home
Uh oh
Keep running, dude
Spooky
What?
Charlie?
This has got to be like. A shifter or something
Aw, Dean!
Alright then
It's like I don't even know him anymore
Sam.
Dean is a good cook, he just doesn't like healthy food 😂
There it is
Montage!
Tony Stark era
Something like that
Great question
That's what it looks like
So, find the court case
Oh, Dean...
Yikes
Oh dear
It's not gonna have much
Come on, man
Dean...
This is not going well
Dude.
Alright then
Oh, that's pretty!
But why now?
Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins were both members of the band Genesis. You may know Phil Collins from "In the Air Tonight" and his work on the Tarzan soundtrack.
I doubt that
Whoo, boy
Poor Dean
That's a fantastic question
Fair point
Uh oh
Why was Sam running like that 😭
Charlie!
Okay then
That knife looks so fake
What happened to her?
That's not good
I'm sorry, his voice while he was being scissored 😂😂😂
Well that's fantastic
Charlie would never
Of course she did
SHE DIDNT
SHE DID CRAP
HOW DARE SHE
There better be a FANTASTIC explanation for this or there's gonna be a serious problem
That's Charlie's car
Charlie?
You think???
I guess
Uh oh
Well that's awesome
Yikes
She can't even say it
Yeah, it's weird
No...
Fantastic
So there we go
That's not part of the good side
Right...
Dean?
Buddy you've got some low blood sugar
Well that's great
Oh, Charlie...
Yeah
Good plan
Oh, but that's a bad idea
What does that mean?
Not really
Is she wearing Dorothy's jacket???
Oh, Dean
Love the suicide doors
I already hate this waiting room
I guess so
That's an idea
Dean.
(Presley? Really?)
Dean...
Oh boy
This'll be good
Good plan
Take it with you!
Dean.
Ouch
Bad idea
Liar
Unfortunately not
Phones are out
Unfortunately, I think she does
I doubt that
Wasn't it?
Okay then
Be careful
I'm sure
Well that's true
So pay for it now
That doesn't make it better
But?
Dang it
He lost her
Charlie, no...
Or he will be on his way
Spooky
Give it up, Charlie
The symbolism in this show is insane
Buddy
Here we go
Oh, that's weird
Ah. False lead
What does that mean?
How can this show be THIS homosexual and yet extremely homophobic
Oh boy
She didn't.
I'd know that engine anywhere, please tell me she didn't
SHE DID
IF IT WERENT CHARLIE SHED BE DEAD, I SWEAR
This is great
That's fantastic
So where's evil Clive?
Ohhh
That is really Not Good
Oh boy
No...
Soccer Mom Dean
There she is
That's what you said last time
Here he comes
Everything about this is insane
Spooky
Charlie!
Yikes
No way
Come on, Charlie
That's a horrible thing to say
Oh, Charlie...
Not really
Dean, stop!!!
Yeah
This is so weird
It should be Dean comforting her, but the universe is cruel
Oh, Dean...
Hi, Charlie
That's good
Oh boy
Not even close
This is just normal Charlie, now
Yeah
Dean...
A support network
They know, Dean
That's the best thing you can do
Fair
Of course
Dean seriously needs a hug
At least he's honest
Huh.
#ashla chick flick moments#supernatural#season 10 episode 11#there's no place like home#theres no place like home
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I just finished Voyage of the Dawn Treader and seriously, C.S. Lewis, what are you trying to do to me? Stop cutting onions in here man...
#the goodbye with caspian was even sadder here than the movie because he straight up breaks down which caused me to as well#and aslan showing up as a lamb at first??? my heart???!!#talking about being the great bridge builder and how he’s in their world too by another name#my babies not being able to come back to narnia but having the promise of still knowing aslan back home#was this not emotional enough in the movie?!?! i’m glad i saw that first to give me a taste to prepare me for THIS blow to my heart#even the things that happened the same way just feel weightier here somehow#clive i swear... stop doing this to me...#(she said knowing that she still has tsc and tlb which are sure to break her in new ways)#chronicles of narnia#the voyage of the dawn treader#reading narnia#cs lewis
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OFFICIAL MACHINE GIRL SONG ASSIGNMENT FOR SELECTED MTMTE CHARACTERS
CRITERIA: CHARACTER MUST BE ABLE TO TOLERATE LISTENING TO AT LEAST ONE MACHINE GIRL ALBUM
〜〜〜
RODIMUS: IT TAKES A NATION OF MILLENIALS TO DESTROY A NATION OF MILLIONS... - ...BECAUSE I’M YOUNG ARROGANT AND HATE EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR
Pull the world ablaze
And while god’s busy getting faded
We start from the basics
Forget the world we hated
Fuck everything they held sacred
DRIFT: Splatter! - U-Void Synthesizer
Shibuya meltdown Tokyo plastered
7 A.M. still huffing plasma
System purge stop smoking dirt
In the synapse the terror lurks
Juggle poison and fireworks
Dance with the devil and die with a smirk
CHROMEDOME: Psycho Signal Jammer - The Ugly Art
I’ve become the enemy they’re onto me suddenly
I’ve become the enemy they’re onto me— FUCK!
Psycho signal-jammer L-R-A-D
A lonely birdsong resonates inside of me
Stealth achieved until the return of the frequency
Bloody nose now a bloody sleeve
REWIND: ATHOTH A GO!! GO!! - ...BIYAAHEYSF
You're the love I always wanted
Free falling through time after life
I’m petrified cause there's nothing
That can stop my fall
In the corner we can hug each other
Till our brains and our guts splatter all over the fucking sidewalk
BRAINSTORM: ...BECAUSE I’M YOUNG ARROGANT AND HATE EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR - ...BIYAAHEYSF
I exist in the sludge between fiction and fact
Future and past
U-G-L-Y
You ain't got no alibi
But you do have valentines
The day of doom approaches
CYCLONUS: Necro Culture Vulture - The Ugly Art
They built a condo on your tomb
The earth is rotted to the root
A marble corpse like sister moon
Necro-culture vulture, prime real estate
TAILGATE: 覆面調査員 (GabberTrap Mix) - WLFGRL
(I was too over the top
A dull loop of allurement spins away from me
The weak rhythm from your side tends to fall short
What’s the intention of your mission?
I won’t cut corners, but
It just feels entirely as if you’re testing me)
WHIRL: Roach On Dope - The Ugly Art
(I swear, I will get a gun, and I will shoot myself in the head)
All my bad habits are back in the saddle
Cutting off my hands is half of the battle
Rinse and repeat until I die or black out
It's a bug trap, death by poison glue
It's a bug trap, you know they’ll poison you too
SWERVE: かわいい Post Rave Maximalist - WLFGRL
[Instrumental]
(If you like those crazy-ass Japanese movies, Machine Girl is definitely for you)
SKIDS: Kill Screen - The Ugly Art
How do I sleep at night
Knowing what I did
I feel nothing
Kill screen
No shades of grey
I'm to blame
PHARMA: SAD CLAPS - ...BIYAAHEYSF
Brain dead but you got a check
A few hundred bucks step back
A boogiepop phantom from beyond the grave suckin' on a template
And it's dried up and there’s nothing left for it but table scraps
My condolences to you sir, I give you sad claps
FIRST AID: Status - The Ugly Art
Status, what's your condition? Manic, I'm picking blisters
Static, cut off transmission, I’ve had it
Inhale, not to scale, lungs full so I exhale
Double dare, dumbass over there
Exhale fabric tears, imploding in my chair
NAUTICA: Infinite Potentiality - Reporpoised Phantasies
[Instrumental]
(And that's when he realized that to stand and consider all possibilities is to drown in a tunneling sea of infinite potentiality)
(So he changed his mind!)
RED ALERT: A Song Called Clive Barker - The Ugly Art
Someone's there screaming
There's the gun
And—
I know somebody’s watching me
Losing my self and all my patience
How much longer can I take this
VELOCITY: Out by 16 (ACiDPUNKMiX) - Gemini
(Out by six-
Out by six-
Out by sixteen-
Out by sixteen or dead on the scene, but together forever)
FORTRESS MAXIMUS: Full Metal Dipshit - The Ugly Art
Soothsayer, everything you said’s come true
Masquerading proto-doppelganger of you
You are the real, I was just here first
Augmented post-modern rage fermented
Metal septic down to the bone
ANODE: Fully In It - U-Void Synthesizer
I talk to the mirror
I communicate with the dead
Grave digging my psyche
Plunging the depths of my head
I reach down my throat
And remove the world
And the planet reveals itself
LUG: Cloud99 - Gemini
I will do my hardest to fuck your mind back to its original state
(Thank me later)
[Instrumental]
GETAWAY: A Decent Man - The Ugly Art
Need to escape I need a Pegasus
My hatred grows inside a chrysalis
Bark like a leader
You're just a man
Beg like you need it
#mtmte#NOT putting this in the main tags this post has an audience of me ONLY#my magnum opus#tf#pdf#mp3#mg#op#sav
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Change with the Tides (Part 1/??)
A/N: Hiya! This is a little thing that I wanted to write, where the reader is a changeling wizard/rouge working for the Gentleman and joins the Mighty Nein! This takes place around 2x14-2x16. I’ll probably write it for the whole campaign.
You grew up in the various orphanages of Wildemont, starting in Port Damali, then Alfeild, Nogvurot, Trostenwald, Rexxentrum, and Deastock, eventually ending up in Zadash.
Due to your race, people found it hard to trust you. You didn’t really blame them, you had been picking pockets since you were seven. In Alfeild, you managed to steal a few spellbooks off of a traveller and began teaching yourself magic. Mostly Illusion spells, but you got your hand on some water-based magic as well.
When you grew out of the system, you were in Zadash, so you went about looking for the Gentleman. By the time you were 23, you had a secure career with him.
That is until a group barged into the underground bar, a strange collection of individuals calling themselves the Mighty Nein… but there were only seven.
From your seat at the bar, you couldn’t see them. You subtly put up your usual disguise, a human woman with brown hair and dark eyes, except you keep the hair a platinum blonde, the closest colour to your true form.
Cree noted one of the adventurers, a purple teifling she called Lucien. The man was a literal peacock. In fact, you’re pretty sure you saw a peacock tattoo creeping up his neck. You noted the others. An aloof half-orc, an energetic blue teifling, a massive woman who could probably crush you, a human woman in Cobalt Soul blue, and a human man in dirty brown clothing, sticking close to a small goblin. The goblin surprised you. You were all too aware of what people thought of monstrous races like hers.
The group went to the Gentlemans’ table, and you snickered, sipping on your drink. Then, Clive comes over and leans over the bar, “He needs you.” You sigh, down the rest of your drink, and walk over to the table, knowing that the drink will be paid off later.
“What’s up Boss?” You say as you reach the table, grabbing the chair closest to him. You’re his best employee. He knows that, everyone here knows that. There’s very little you can’t get away with.
“Ah, Y/N. Meet the Mighty Nein. You may recognize those two,” he gestures to the purple teifling and the monk, “as the two who murdered the High-Rictor. They’ve agreed to do me a favour, in exchange for me clearing their names.”
“So you’re the sorry sods he’s making go to that blasted facility,” you turned your head to the Gentleman, “Let me guess, I’m going with them?”
“You are the one who found it.”
“So when do we leave?” You asked, looking back at the group, who all seemed to be talking to one another. All of them except for the half-orc, who was instead watching you.
“Tomorrow, we need to prepare first.”
The Gentleman waved you off, and you went to your bed in the upper part of the Evening Nip, then preparing some things for your mission tomorrow. You went down to the bar, waiting for the Mighty Nein.
They finally arrived, and they were blindfolded and escorted to a dock, where you parted ways with you’re colleagues and rowed down the river with the Mighty Nein. You led them down the river, not talking and very aware that the half-orc and the monk were watching you. The Nein then decides to pull a race, and the goblin uses her ring of water walking. Until she hits a rock.
As she’s being pulled into the boat, you see a dark mantle drop, wrapping around her head, as well as the man and the half-orc. Luckily, you’re able to defeat them with almost no injuries.
“Those weren’t there before, I swear.” You say as the monk woman accuses you of trying to kill them. As she’s yelling at you, she stops and urges everyone to go faster due to rock monsters.
You drift downward before docking and sitting on the gravel beach as the large woman and blue teifling clear the rockslide.
“Mind telling us your name?” the half-orc asks, sitting beside you,
“Y/N,” you say, looking over, “And no, no last name. What about you?”
“I’m Fjord,” he says, then points to his party, “That there’s Beauregard and Jester. Then Mollymauk and Yasha. Those two are Caleb and Nott.” He pointed to where the goblin was braiding flowers into the man’s hair.
“Right. Apologies for the cave-in, when I first discovered this place, my group got attacked, one of them decide to destroy the wall.”
“Not a problem Y/N!” says Jester, clearing away the last rocks, “See, already cleared”
Mollymauk walks over and offers you his hand to helo you get up, as he does, he pulls you close to whisper in your ear, “Do you have any clue who I was?”
Was. Interesting choice of words, Mr. Mollymauk. “No, Cree seemed to though. So whatever little gang you two were in, I certainly wasn’t a member.”
“Something tells me there’s more to you than meets the eye Y/N, and I for one, am interested to find out what.”
Mollymauk back off at my shocked expression, walking away before saying over his shoulder, “And it’s just Molly, dear.”
We go down the stairs, through many trapped rooms (which Nott kept forgetting to check, leaving you to pick up her slack), Fjord almost falls down a pit, before finally reaching a large chamber.
The first thing you notice in the room is a teleportation circle, though it’s broken. You tell this to the Nein, which makes Caleb give you a quizzical look “And how do you know what a broken teleportation circle looks like?”
“I may be nothing more than a thief, but I am somewhat educated.”
You all begin searching around, and eventually, Caleb finds a journal written in Draconic. As you discuss it, the temperature drops and a skeletal form stretches from the group, ghastly skin stretched over its face.
“My secrets are yours.”
After that, you and the Nein launch into battle, and shockingly, you all fight very well together, working in sync.
You watched Jester sink to the ground, your own head pounding from the mental attacks. Molly charged at the undead Siff Dunder, and you shouted “Finish this Mollymauk!” as you ran towards Jester, giving her a healing potion you kept in your pocket.
The temperature drops again, cold energy emerging from a bookshelf. You can physically see Caleb remembering something, his eyes lighting. He mentions a physical form, like will o’ wisps and you swear under your breath as a series of attacks knocks Yasha unconscious. Jester is by her side instantly, healing her, before she and Beauregard pull down the bookshelf.
A large urn stands amongst pots and small cases, and Molly reaches through and destroys the urn. Siff, who was just attacking you and Fjord as you tried to distract it, disintegrates, and you both breathe a sigh of relief.
You all take a bit of time to collect yourself, and Fjord once again sits beside you, “Alright, I need to know. Why no last name?”
“Never got one.” You said, drinking from your waterskin and checking for any injuries.
“Orphan?”
“Yeah”
You notice a flash of something like sympathy on his face, and but in “I don’t need your pity. I’m perfectly fine without parents.”
“I was gonna say me too.”
You look at Fjord, “Right, sorry.”
Fjord looks like he’s about to ask another question, but you’re interrupted by Nott rubbing oil on herself and squeezing through the hole. Yasha just breaks the wall.
Why was that hot? You think to yourself
You see Nott bent over a case with her thieves tools out, trying to open a lock. Two minutes pass and you hear a gas leak and repeated coughing. “Poison,” she croaks, handing out the jewelry she found, even handing you a piece.
Beauregard searches through the urns, finding a spellbook, which she gives to Caleb. He traces some pattern in the air and finishes the spell, looking around the room. Your back is turned, but he gives you a look, nodding at Beau. You’re definitely hiding abilities other than the rouge ones you’ve displayed.
He points out a sword called the Magicians Judge, which Yasha takes. Molly, Jester, Fjord, and Beau leave to investigate further down the river, while you make camp with Caleb and Nott.
“You know magic,” Caleb says after a long stretch of silence. “How?”
A simple question, but you were reluctant to answer, Fjord already knows too much about you. “I stole some books off of a travelling wizard when I was 15. I was going to sell them, but they seemed interesting, so I taught myself.”
“How old are you?” Nott asked in between sips of her flask.
“23.” You answer, resting your head on your bag.
“What spells do you know?”
“Just a few illusions. Makes thievin’ easier.”
The interrogation seemed to stop then, and a few minutes later, the others return, and you all fall asleep.
You dream of being chased through Alfeild after stealing the books. You ran and ran, jumping on carriages until you deemed yourself far enough away. Late nights of learning magic, trying to get a hold on precious components with no money. Slowly learning.
When you woke up, you realized you shouldn’t have slept around strangers, your true form peeking through. You shift slowly back, keeping your cloak wrapped around you.
“Fjord, you have a little something right here.” Jester says, pointing out the dried blood on the corner of his mouth.”
“Oh, yeah, I grind my teeth,” Fjord explains blushing slightly as he wipes it. As he does you notice his tusks are shorter than other half-orcs you’ve seen.
Jester notices it too and starts questioning him about them. Fjord gets nervous and says “When I was younger, they used to make fun of my teeth, so I got rid of the target.”
“The kids at the orphanage?” You ground out, all too familiar with asshole kids
“Yeah, it just kinda became a habit.”
“Did you ever kill them?” Yasha asked, looking very serious,
Nott quickly became concerned “Yasha. Have you ever killed a kid?”
No answer.
Immediately, the Mighty Nein promised that if he grew them out they’d support him. You had a moment then. These people hadn’t known each other long, minus a couple of obvious pairings, but you could tell they were good people. Certainly better than the Gentleman’s goons.
You all make your way up to the Gentleman’s lair, keeping quiet. You’re lost in thought, right up until you take the blindfold off of the Nein. You pull Fjord aside before he gets to the Gentleman.
“I still have to talk to the Boss about it, but would it be alright if I maybe tagged along with you guys for a bit? You seem like good people, and I think I need a change of company.”
“I’d have to talk to the other, but I don’t have a problem with it. You’re a good fighter Y/N, we could definitely use you.”
You nod and wait for the Mighty Nein to finish the meeting with the Gentleman before you sit down with him.
“Hey, Boss?” You say, waiting for permission to speak, “I was thinking, I might try travelling around a bit. I’ve never been good at staying in one place, you know my past. And those Migh-”
The Gentleman held up a hand, and you felt the entire bar fall silent. He was going to say no, you knew it.
“Y/N, you’ve been my best employee for the last several years. Your talents are unmatchable, and I don’t think I’ll ever find a replacement. But I get it. A change of pace is always needed. Go pack up your things, and don’t worry about your bar tab, I’ll pay.” He slid a pouch of gold across the table, “Here’s a little something to start you off.”
Holy shit.
“Thank you, sir.”
The Gentleman nodded, and you ran to pack your things. Fjord said something about the Leaky Tap, so you headed over. Right away, Jester threw her arms around you.
“Welcome to the Mighty Nein!”
#mighty nein x reader#mighty nein#jester lavorre#fjord stone#beauregard lionett#caleb widogast#mollymauk tealeaf#nott the brave#Change With The Tides#fanfiction#Critical role#this wasn't supposed to be so long
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For keeps - a Christmas story - chapter 2
A small crowd had already invaded the assembly hall when Marjorie arrived, and the room was abuzz with electricity as everyone took their seats and chattered convivially.
She looked at her wristwatch: seven forty-five. Just in the nick of time.
She scurried backstage, pushing a few people around along the way.
"Hey, watch it, kiddo!" a scrawny older woman admonished her as she bumped into her, almost knocking down the comically huge flower pot in her tiny hands.
She apologized, moving along. When she spotted a tall man by the stage door, she tapped on a his shoulder. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Joe."
"Oh, you’re not Betty.” he said as he turned around. He couldn't be older than thirty-five, with dark hair and thick black rimmed glasses.
"No, I'm Marjorie."
"Good for you. He’s not too fond of Betty right now. I'm Clive, by the way. Follow me."
Clive guided her through a narrow wooden staircase and up to an elevated platform.
"You a friend of Joe's?"
"Not really. I just met him."
"Oh, he's a really swell guy. One of the best." He said, opening the door to the men's changing room.
"I'll kill her! If she gets here I swear I'll kill her!" Joe's voice reverberated from a corner.
"Well, usually, he is." Clive shrugged.
Joe continued his litany, unaware of Marjorie and Clive's arrival.
"I can't do it without Betty! It's a duet! I can't romance myself!"
"Then do the living mannequin routine." an older man with a thick grey mustache suggested.
"Ok, now we're doomed."
"Hey, you do a great mannequin."
"The first fifty times, maybe!"
"Ahem." Clive finally spoke, and Joe turned his head. "There's a broad here to see you."
“Finally.” Joe sighed in relief when he saw Marjorie, then took her by the arm and led her aside by his changing station.
"I got your suitcase." she said, holding up the object in question with both arms.
"Yeah," He picked up the matching item from a table nearby. "I figured this had to be yours when I found stockings instead of slacks. I guess that's what we in the biz call a ol' switcharoo."
Marjorie smiled despite of herself.
"I would invite you to stay, but I'm afraid you're not in for a great show tonight."
"Betty called just now." Clive came back, slightly breathless. "She says she's stranded in the snowstorm. Had to walk two miles just to find a phone. She's not gonna make it."
"Oh, come on!" Joe rubbed his face.
Clive was thoughtful for a second, then his eyes fixed on Marjorie, as if struck by lightning. He eyed her up and down and began pecking around her like a chickenhawk.
"Say, what's your waist size?" he asked her, stopping beside her.
She crossed her arms defensively. "That's none of your business."
"Twenty-two." Joe replied automatically.
"You think she could - ?"
"I couldn't." Marjorie said.
"I didn't even finish talking!"
"Whatever it is, I couldn't." she reiterated.
"Are you sure? You didn't even see the money."
"The money?"
"You think people perform for free?"
"Well, how much?"
Clive slipped a checkbook out of his vest pocket and handed it to Marjorie. “That’s what I’m getting.”
Marjorie held the paper in her hands, considering the sum. She could have used some quick cash after the news her father bestowed on her that day. The only problem was, could she keep up with professional performers on a stage?
"I'll do it. But I’m not sure how good I can dance."
“Can you count to four?” Joe asked, almost rethorically.
“Of course.”
“Then you can dance. All you have to do is follow me. Do you know the song ‘Yes Sir, that’s my baby’?
"Yes."
"Great. Now, try this." He tapped his feet, light as a feather, then spun around once.
Marjorie hesitated for a second.
"You need me to do it again?"
"No, I think I got it. It's left, right, left right." she tapped awkwardly. "Then twirl."
"Once, Counter clockwise." Joe added.
Marjorie repeated the moves again, this time more confidently.
Joe smiled broadly as she finished her spin. "Not bad. It needs some polishing, but for a beginner, you can handle yourself."
The dress fit her like a glove. It was a gorgeous puffy-sleeved periwinkle sundress, with little sunflowers on the neckline and a white sash on the waistline that tied with a ribbon in the back. A sunflower also adorned her hair behind her left ear, and she felt absolutely radiant.
She put one last touch of rouge on her cheeks, before examining her final look. “That will do.”
She stepped out of the girls changing room and knocked cautiosly on the men’s door.
“Joe? Are you decent?”
“It depends from what you’re looking for.” He replied, opening the door.
He looked absolutely dapper in a multi-colored candy striped jacket, bowtie, straw hat and white pants.
“Well?” Marjorie threw her hands up the air.
Joe sucked in his breath and let out a wolf-whistle. “Like a million bucks.You’re gonna dazzle ‘em.”
By the time the show had started, the auditorium was even fuller. Marjorie peeked through the velvet curtain and gulped. Had the place always been this big? She could’ve sworn it couldn’t accomodate more than a couple hundred people, but seeing them all together, it almost looked like as if the whole town was in attendance.
“Relax,” Joe appeared beside her. “Don’t think about the audience. And above all, do not picture them naked.”
“Why not?”
“There are things you can’t unsee, no matter how imaginary they are. Besides,” he looked over towards the stage, “We’re going after those chuckleheads. We’re fine.”
The chuckleheads in question were a double act consisting of two people - a balding middle aged man and a mousy woman around the same age dressed like a doll. In a mockery of a ventroliquist act, she sat on his lap, stiff as a dummy.
“Molly, I heard you got a new joke book, is that correct?” the man asked the dummy-woman.
“Yes.” he replied in a baby voice, as she moved her mouth in synch.
“What do you say if we entertain these nice folks here tonight with a joke, uh?”
The crowd cheered in agreement.
“Do you know when a door it’s not a door?” Molly asked, pausing for effect before delivering her punchline. “When it’s a jar!”
A drum roll was heard throughout the theater, and the audience laughed tepidly.
“Another one, another one!” Molly the dummy begged.
“Alright, alright.”
“What does a mirror tell another mirror after they’ve gone out?” she paused just like the first time “I’ll see me next time!”
Another drum roll, another round of tepid laughter.
The curtain went down and the duo left, leaving place for the crew to set up the stage for Joe’s number.
The backdrop was a simple natural landscape featuring trees, papier mache bushes and flowers and a clear blue sky. Next to the backdrop was a wooden bench.
“You go stand there.” Joe told Marjorie. “Then, when the music starts you walk towards me and we dance together, ok? I’ll guide you through it.”
Marjorie nodded, and stood into place, while Joe waited backstage for his cue.
She couldn’t tell how long it was. It could’ve been seconds, a couple of minutes or an hour, as far as she was concerned, but suddenly the curtain wasn’t there anymore and the cheery music blared through the stage.
Joe entered the stage, strolling with a quick step and singing merrily. When he met her halfway through the stage, he put an arm round her shoulder, held out his hand and she took it. They strolled on the stage arm in arm, with the same quick step he had before. When they had strolled the whole stage, Joe spun her around and encircled his arms around her from behind as the swayed together.
Then, the moment she dreaded the most – the dance break. Left, right. Left, right. Then spin. They went like this three times, then repeated the feet motion without spinning as they moved towards one side of the stage then another. When it was time for the final refrain, they joined their hands and waltzed. He didn’t instruct her to do so, but Marjorie felt compelled to join his singing, and before she could blink, the song was over and they had stepped out of sight.
“Do you hear that?” Joe said, breathless. “They’re cheering for us! For you!”
He was right. She was so dazed she didn’t even have time to compartmentalize. Hell, she even forgot there was an audience while they danced. But now all she could hear was the applause and the ovations coming from out there.
Joe held her hand and they ran on stage one last time, taking a bow for the audience before disappearing backstage again.
“How come you didn’t tell me you could sing like that?!?”
“You asked me if I danced, not if I sang. I had piano lessons from my mother as a child. She played the organ at functions.”
“You’ve got music in you, baby! You need to come touring with me!”
“What about Betty? Or do you expect us to make a little musical threesome?”
“Oh, right.” Joe grew somber. “Betty.”
“I guess I did fine in a clinch, didn’t I?”
“More than fine,” Joe grinned. “Listen, can I at least take you out to dinner, to thank you?”
“Thanks, but I already ate at home. Besides, I got paid more than my fair share.”
“Think of It as a personal thank you. You don’t have to eat, you can have a drink while I eat my meal.”
Marjorie shook her head. “Fine.”
“So, do you know any nice joint for a fella to take a very lovely gal to?”
Marjorie sipped on her root beer from a straw. “You know what that song’s really about, don’t you?”
Joe looked up from his bowl of stew, a puzzled look crossing his face.
“You know … “ Marjorie’s brown eyes widened. “Extramarital intercourse.”
“Where did you get that idea?” Joe sneered in disbelief.
“The lyrics. The woman is with child, so the man is telling people it’s his baby and he’s not ashamed of marrying her, hence why they won’t hide it.”
“You’re reading into things. He mans ‘baby’ as in ’my gal’.”
“It’s a double entendre. Why else would he challenge the priest when they get to the pew? Why would she cause a row?”
“I don’t know. Why would a man even write a song about that?”
“Maybe he drew from experience.”
Joe shook his head, smiling as he took another spoonful. “You have an opinion on everything, don’t you?”
Marjorie didn’t reply, but laughed, before sipping more root beer.
“What’s your opinion on me?” Joe pressed on.
Marjorie looked pensive for a second, before setting her glass on the table and resting her elbows on the linen tablecloth.
“That you’re too smart for your own good. Sometimes a little lack of self-awareness is a good thing, you know.”
“Well, how am I supposed to turn it off? Once I’m aware, I’m aware.”
“That’s exactly what someone too self-aware would say. Now, my turn to ask you something.”
“I’m an open book.”
“Why do you keep a ratty baseball in your suitcase?”
“You went through my stuff!”
“I did not! It was right there!”
“I always keep it at the bottom of the bag.”
“It was purely on accident.”
“Hmm-hmm.”
“I gotta tell you, feel pretty violated.” Joe said in mock horror. “Next you’re tell me you’ve gone through my undergarments?”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Okay. When I was a kid I always wanted to be a baseball right fielder. Either that, or an actor. One day, It must’ve been about thirteen years ago, I caught a ball at a Pirates game.”
“You were in the Pirates?”
“No, I was in the audience. It was a home run.”
“Right.”
“I even got some of the guys to sign it and everything afterwards. The next day I got a call for my first out-of-state show. I knew it was a sign. That ball’s been my lucky charm since.”
“You’re big on destiny, aren’t you?”
“To a normal degree. I take it that you’re not as superstitious.”
“We make choices, and they have consequences. That’s all.”
“That’s a cynical way to live life, If you ask me.”
“And yours is a reckless one.”
“Is that why you don’t wanna partner up?”
“There’s a lot going on ... I can’t just uproot my life for someone I just met. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
She looked at her wristwatch. It was a few minutes past ten. Had she been out more than two hours already?
“It’s getting awfully late.” Marjorie rose form her chair, shrugging on her coat. “I must go. Thank you for the drink and the company. I’ll see you around.”
“Wait.” Joe bolted up. “You shouldn’t be walking alone at this hour. I’ll walk you.”
“There’s no need, really. This is the safest town in the world. We don’t even have a police station because we don’t need one.”
“What If you slip on the ice and you fall flat on your face? That’s too nice of a face to ruin.”
“What If we both slip?”
“Then at least we slip together. We keep each other company while we freeze to death.” Joe laughed. “Come on, I’ll carry your bag.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re just looking for excuses to prolong our acquaintance.”
“You know what’s your problem?”
“What?”
“You’re too smart for your own good.”
They walked in companionable silence most of the road. Every once in a while, Marjorie would stop to show Joe some landmark or a business establishment she thought he would enjoy. She had an anecdote for each place, and Joe listened intently as she got animated and flailed her arms around when she remembered something especially funny, before breaking out into a roaring laughter that reverberated in the stillness of the night.
It had stopped snowing sometime during their walk, and now they were walking ankles deep in white crud, as the village gave way to the countryside.
“So … that’s me.” Marjorie said, stopping in front of the cottage.
“Thanks for everything.”
Just as she turned around, she heard Joe calling her back. “Wait!”
“What? I don’t suppose you wanna come inside. I don’t think my father would be very pleased.”
“Marjorie, I must see you again.”
“I’m sure we’ll see each other around town again before you leave.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Joe, you’re very sweet – and very persistent. Will you settle for just friends?”
I can work with friends, Joe thought.
“Sure. A gal for a friend, how about that?”
“Goodnight, friend.” Joe said, leaning in, and Marjorie swore for a second that he was going for a kiss but ten he just shook her hand.
“Goodnight.”
Marjorie didn't sleep a wink that night. She tossed and turned several times, her mind replaying the events of the evening on a loop. The few brief times she gave into Morpheus' embrace, she dreamed of feet tapping on wooden floors, snow avalanches, and evil men in pinstripe suits and silk ties taking her home away.
Around five, she heard the familiar thumping of heavy feet on the carpet by the hallway. Her father had awoken and just like every morning, he would spend a good half hour in the bathroom getting ready for the day.
Shrugging her robe on, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. She put on a pot of coffee and a buttered pan, and rummaging through the pantry she gathered fresh eggs, bacon and bread.
By the time her father had finished his grooming routine, a heavenly aroma permeated the whole room.
"Now, that's what I call a good morning," he said, walking into the kitchen.
"I made bacon with eggs for me." Marjorie told him, setting a couple plates and two glasses of milk on the table. "And an egg white omelet with mushrooms for you."
"Now, that's not a comment on your culinary ability, but I'll pass."
"Dad, you have to watch your health. You know that. Doctor Macmillian -"
"What the Doctor sees he doesn't know, eh?" the man said, shoving half of Marjorie's eggs and bacon on his own plate.
"What will I have to do to make you listen to me?" Marjorie sighed, exasperated.
"Hmm, nice." He ignored her, taking a bite. "With toast shavings on top,"
"Just like mother used to make them."
"Almost. Not quite, but almost."
Marjorie couldn't help but noticing the wistfulness in his voice, and she grew somber in turn.
"Yeah. Hers was better." she agreed, taking a bite of her own.
He was right. It wasn't something in the ingredients, nor the preparation. In fact, to a stranger hers and mother's eggs would've probably tasted the same. No, it was something else entirely. Something uniquely hers and intangible that her mother put in it. Like magic, or maybe just plain old-fashioned love.
"You look tired. Didn't you sleep well?" her father changed the subject abruptly.
"Not really."
"Maybe the next time you sneak out, you can come back earlier." He said nonchalantly, taking a big sip of milk afterwards.
"How did you - ?" Marjorie dropped her fork. "I didn't sneak out!"
"I don't remember you telling me you were going out. All I know is I woke up and you weren't there."
"I'm not in school anymore, daddy. I don't sneak out. I went out. You just happened to be asleep, and I didn't wanna wake you, that's all."
"You still haven't told me where you went."
"I accidentally switched bags with a person on the train, and I went to get it back."
"A person?"
"A gentleman person."
"You should've told me. I don't like you meeting strange men in the middle of the night."
"I'm sorry," Marjorie quipped. "I promise I'll only meet nice men in the middle of the night from now on."
Marjorie's father shook his head. That was girl was impossible. He reached for the milk bottle to pour himself some more, but he came out empty.
"Oh, damn!" He huffed. "milk's finished. Could you get some more in the pantry, please?"
"That's the last one. I'll go pick some at Old man Johnson's later. I was thinking of going downtown for a walk anyways."
"Thanks, Rusty. By the way, did I tell you Ozzie Johnson's back from business school?"
"He is?"
"Works for his old man's shop now. He's gonna be running the place in no time, I'm telling you. He's a smart one, that kid."
"He was always top of the class."
"Very polite, too. Always calls me sir, even though I've known him since he wore a diaper. I've always liked him."
"Me too." Marjorie added.
She always had a special fondness for Ozzie. Growing up, most boys her age were pedantic pests whose favorite hobbies was pulling girls braids and trying to hike up their skirts, but not him. He kept to himself most of the time, always raised his hand before speaking, and never caused trouble. He was what teachers would a call 'a pleasure to have in class', and Marjorie would say he was a pleasure out of it, too.
He would help her with her trigonometry, and she, the more artistic one, would forge signatures to get him out of gymnastics. She wasn't exactly proud of it, but she had to give it to him, he wasn't exactly the athletic type. He was always an inch shorter, not to mention scrawnier, than all the other boys, and that didn't change after puberty hit. One time when they were fourteen, he was so excited when he told her he'd grown half an inch, only to realize a few months later than that was probably gonna be it for him.
When he'd ask her to prom their senior year, he'd jokingly said it was because she was the only girl in the girl in the school who could make him look tall, though secretly, she had began to hope there might have been an ulterior motive.
Graduation came and went, and she didn't see much of him afterwards. That summer, he moved to New York to start business school, and save for the occasional time when they were both home for the holidays, they had hardly any contact.
The night of the prom they danced, and when she rested her head on his chest, she could've sworn she felt his heart beating on a rhythm of its own.
He was a perfect gentleman the whole night – he never made any kind of inappropriate pass, he complimented her throughout the night and always refilled her refreshment.
When he'd took her home that night, she was confident he was finally gonna make his move. When he bid her adieu on her porch with a clammy handshake and a nod, she was dumbfounded.
The bell chimed as Marjorie opened the front door to Old man Johnson's drugstore.
Holiday prep was in full swing. Mr. Johnson balanced from a ladder behind the counter, hanging tinsel on the wall, while seasonal sweets and trinkets were already on display on an appointed shelf in the middle of the store.
"Good morning," Marjorie said, as the man turned around his bald head.
"Little Marjorie Peters! I'll be right down."
"Pop, I told you thousand times, I can handle that stuff." Ozzie appeared from the small hallway connecting the storage room to the counter area. "You could hurt yourself."
"You saying I'm too old to my job?" the man yelled down.
"Not all of it, just this." Ozzie leaned on the stairwell, looking at him right back.
"Can you believe this guy?!" Mr. Johnson turned towards Marjorie again,"You raise them, give them a roof, teach them a craft, and that's what you get! Next thing you know, he's gonna try putting me in an old folks home, but I won't let him!"
"I would never dare. They wouldn't last a day with you." Ozzie laughed.
"Damn right they wouldn't," Mr, Johnson pointed a finger in his son's direction, ascending the ladder. "and don't you forget it."
Marjorie giggled, amused by the exchange.
"What can I do for you?" Mr. Johnson asked once he was back on the ground.
"I'm just here for a quick milk run."
"I can handle it - if it's fine with you." Ozzie said.
"I get it. I'll leave you two kids to catch up," Mr. Johnson took a box of ornaments from the counter, and headed towards the shelves on the other side of the store.
"I see your father is still the same," Marjorie told Ozzie.
"Parents," he shrugged, "can't live with them ..."
"Can't put them in an old folks home." she finished for him.
"Pretty much " he sighed. "you look good."
"You too. Did you grow a bit?"
"Don't tease."
"I'm serious. You look a little taller."
"It's the shoes. The advantage of galoshes. SO, how long are you in town for?"
"Indefinitely, actually." Marjorie fiddled with her gloved hands. "I have some things to sort through here."
"I heard your father's having money problems. Is that true?"
"I'm afraid so. We might lose the property. He just doesn't like to parade it around, you know how he is. He didn't even want me to move back here, truth be told."
"Anything I can do to
help?"
"Just two jugs of milk."
Ozzie nodded and crouched down to the lower counter shelf where they stored extra milk.
"There you go." He handed her the jugs. "It's 58 cents."
Marjorie extracted the coins from her purse and handed them to Ozzie.
"Listen, you tell your father to save us three nice pines this year."
"What do you need three trees for?"
"One for the store and two for home. One on the porch and one inside."
Marjorie pursed her lips. "You don't have to do this, you know."
"Hey, it was my father's idea. You think I'd try to cross him?"
"No, you wouldn't. And neither would I."
"Great. We'll come pick them up this week. Christmas waits for nobody."
"Thanks, Oz. For everything."
"Anything for you."
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Fools in Love (2/10)
This, and all the stories after it, exist because I saw this post. Damn you @mean-scarlet-deceiver I was using my free time!
Thank You Donna Summer
1977
"I'm telling you, there's something wrong with me!" Bear protested as the workmen slammed his maintenance hatches shut. He'd been feeling unusual for some time - nothing major, but a niggling feeling of something being off. It was driving him nutty, and the men could find nothing wrong.
"Well boy-o," said Clive the foreman. "At this point the only thing we haven't done at this point is take you to pieces - and we aren’t doing that!"
"But it feels weird!"
"Tough. We'll deal with it during your next overhaul." The man said firmly, before following his men out the door of the shed.
"And people call Henry a hypochondriac." Muttered Gordon sleepily.
"He actually had boiler sludge and you know it!" The Hymek snapped as his crankshaft did another flip-flop. "And I'm not saying this just for attention - do you think I like having my hatches pulled every night?"
"Considering how often it's happened this month, I'd say that you must." Gordon sighed as he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Bear seethed for the rest of the night, and was still snappish when he was backed down onto The Limited in the morning.
"You are in a dreadful state today. Are you feeling all right?" The lead coach asked as the passengers boarded.
"No, I'm not." Bear scowled, and said no more.
"Right," the coach murmured. Hopefully nothing goes wrong today, or he'll be apoplectic. She thought to herself.
-------
Kellsthorpe Road
Predictably, things went very wrong.
Late passengers, late connections, a cow on the line, and a broken signal arm meant that the train was almost an hour late by the time Bear and his coaches staggered into Kellsthorpe.
To add injury to insult, something was now noticeably wrong with Bear.
In addition to whatever imagined maladies he had, there was a new shooting pain in his gearbox that got worse each time his driver changed up or down.
As they set off from the station, there was a loud CRACK from Bear's gearbox, and an even louder shout of pain from his mouth as the train ground to a halt.
"I told you that there was something wrong!" Bear hissed as his driver slid underneath his front bogie.
He came out moments later, drenched in oil.
"Well, that's torn it!" He groaned as he wiped his hands. "A seal failed and all the oil is gone from your transmission. I'm surprised we made it this far before you disintegrated something."
And that was that. Bear couldn’t move under his own power, so a rescue engine was summoned while the passengers grumbled unhappily about the delay. Bear was also unhappy, but had passed the point of being able to speak without turning the air blue with swears, so he stayed silent.
"As much as I sympathize with them, they should be grateful that they aren't taking a bus!" The lead coach whispered as the signal arm dropped, indicating that the rescue engine was approaching.
Bear hoped it wasn’t James - he'd never hear the end of it if the red engine discovered a perceived weakness.
As the engine puffed into view, Bear's anger and frustration evaporated as he saw that it wasn't James, but instead Henry.
"Am I ever glad to see you!" He called out, eliciting a broad smile from his friend.
"What kind of an engine would I be if I ignored a friend in need?" Henry said as his crew coupled them together.
Bear smiled in return, ignoring the sudden resurgence of his nausea.
---
Talking seemed to help settle his systems - then again, talking with Henry always seemed to help his emotional state; conversation flowed between them with an effortless ease that Bear couldn’t really replicate with anyone else - and the trip to Crovan's Gate was filled with idle conversation about what had gone on since they'd last spoken:
James had once again annoyed a visiting diesel into apoplectic fury with an inane series of questions,
Douglas was still fuming over the officiating that cost Cronk's rugby team their match,
Thomas was still driving everyone on his branch crazy with ABBA - he knew the words, but had no singing ability at all,
And there was a new song that was sweeping the Island's record stores, to the point where a lot of the younger cleaners were bemoaning their long work days, as it meant that they couldn't get to the store before all copies sold out.
"I heard a bit of it in the sheds last week," Henry confided as he rolled tender-first towards Crovan's Gate. I think I'm getting old, because I did not like it at all."
"And yet you look just as dashing as you did on the day I met you."
"One of the perks of being made out of metal I suppose. It's the secret to my eternally good looks."
"But I'm made of metal, so isn't it my secret as well?"
"Gasp. I guess that it will have to be our secret to eternal beauty then."
Bear's smile couldn’t cover the wince that accompanied another unusual feeling from deep within his frame.
"What's wrong?" Henry asked, his voice colored with concern.
"I don't know. I've been feeling unusual for a while now. They've gone through every one of my systems and they can't find anything."
"What does it feel like?"
"It's very strange - my driver says it sounds like indigestion. At some points I get this feeling of, like, like my insides are moving in a way that they shouldn't be, and everything feels light and fluttery... are you all right?"
Henry didn't answer. His concerned expression had suddenly turned into a painful grimace, while steam began pouring out of places it shouldn't be.
For the second time that day, The Limited ground to halt as Henry’s driver stopped the train and dampened his fire.
"I think this train is just cursed," he said as he poked his head in-between Henry’s wheels. "Something has ruptured, but I have no idea what."
Bear closed his eyes in frustration. "If Spamcan shows up as our rescue engine, I..."
He trailed off as Henry laughed.
--
More than an hour later, the train finally limped into Crovan's Gate. A very bemused Class 46 that had been summoned from the mainland was now towing Henry and Bear, neither of whom could stop laughing long enough to explain the joke.
As she shunted them into the Works yard, they finally were able to tell her why they were laughing. The 46 regarded the two with amusement in her eyes. "You two are a pair and a half, you know that?"
"I had an inkling." Henry said, grateful that he'd been laughing too hard to pay any attention to his ruptured steam line before the men dropped his fire. Now that there wasn’t any steam pressure, it hurt a lot less.
Bear, whose gearbox had gone numb, was still chuckling at the absurdity of this 'superb rescue'.
The 46 rolled away as the workmen arrived, and any further conversation was halted as they began pulling tools from cases.
--
That night
"Oh, that's right! I wanted to ask you," Henry said suddenly. "What did those feelings feel like? Indigestion?"
"Yes," Bear said after a moment. "Indigestion, crossed with a broken motor mount. It feels strange, like I'm being filled with helium and lead at the same time."
"This is going to feel incredibly strange, but I feel the same way." Henry said after a moment. "It's like I have an ache in the pit of my boiler, but at the same time I feel energetic - like I'm pulling the express."
"Does it change sometimes?"
"Yes it does. Are you going to tell me that sometimes you feel better and nauseous at the same time?"
"Yes! I feel that way right now as a matter of fact."
"As do I. " Henry paused to acknowledge the incredulous situation they were in. "What a pair we are - Miss Spamcan was right! We break down on the same day, and we have the same phantom illnesses."
"And we're both green."
"And we're both green! How could I forget that? If you squint hard enough, we're essentially the same engine."
"Will you two shut up!" Came a cry from across the works. Several of the workmen were clustered around a radio. "We're trying to listen!"
Turning back to the radio, the man turned up the volume knob, allowing a thumping bass line to fill the works.
"I think this is that song I was talking about earlier." Henry whispered to Bear.
Ooh it's so good, it's so good
It's so good, it's so good
It's so good
Ooh I'm in love, I'm in love
I'm in love, I'm in love
I'm in love...
--
The song was very long - apparently it was some kind of "extended club mix", and the workers were very enthusiastic about it.
Henry and Bear... were not.
"Honestly, I'm quite nonplussed." Bear remarked after spending a few moments searching for the right words. "It's just the same words over and over again."
"It's for dancing mate!" Said one of the men as he swept up. "You're supposed to feel the beat and get moving!"
"I can't dance." Bear looked down at the rails. And I can only really move forward and backwards."
"Maybe you could spin around on the turntable, and that would count." Henry chimed in.
"I think I'd just get sick."
"Perhaps."
"I cannot believe you two!" Cried a young cleaner. "That was an amazing song! How can you not like it?"
"It's repetitive and goes nowhere." Henry said. "It's repeating the same words over and over again. I understand that she 'feels love', but she never said what she was feeling. What does love feel like?"
That brought the entire works to a stop. The men looked from each other nervously. Henry was puzzled. "What did I say?"
"Nothing!" Said one of the men quickly. "It's just... uhh... oh would you lookatthetimegoodbye!"
He fled into the staff break room, followed by several of his co-workers.
Henry and Bear watched with bafflement as the shed emptied at lightning speed. Soon, only two cleaners were left - Karl, the senior cleaner who had been on Sodor since the 1940's, and a young man whom neither engine knew.
"Children, the lot of 'em." Karl groused as he cleared up a patch of spilled oil. "It's like they've never been asked a difficult question."
"What was the question?" Henry, Bear, and the young cleaner asked together.
"Seriously?" Karl looked up from the oil slick. "None of ye know what 'e said?"
"No."
"Nope."
"I have no idea."
Karl groaned as ge held his head in his hands. "Love, you great ignoramus! You asked about what love felt like!"
"So?" None of Henry’s confusion was lifted.
"You're an engine!" Karl said after a moment of shocked, silent, gesticulation. "Engines don't ask what that means!"
"Why not?" This came from the young cleaner, who cocked his head in confusion.
"I- I- you- it's just..." Karl trailed off, his boisterous shock deflating into a curious silence. "I don't know. Now that I think about it, I don't think it's ever happened before."
"Well it's happened now." Said Bear, now genuinely curious about the answer to the question. "What does love feel like?"
Karl looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He turned to the young cleaner for help, and got none.
"Don't look at me. I'm still single. You're the one who married his childhood sweetheart."
Karl glowered for a moment before pulling himself together. "Fine. You lads want to know what love is? It's like a sickness. And you enjoy it. Just thinking about whoever you're smitten on and your pulse races, breath quickens, and you feel like you're going to vomit. Every time I saw my Maria before I told her how I felt, I wanted to run and hide, but never wanted to be more than more than a foot from her. She made me feel like shouting from the rooftops that I loved her, and I was fookin' terrified that she'd find out. It was awful!"
"What did you end up doing?" The young cleaner asked.
"I told 'er! It helped that I'd known her for years, but I just sacked up and told her how I felt." He paused, fiddling with his wedding ring as he did so. "And she said she loved me too. And then I threw up on her shoes."
He smirked slightly. "I was not smooth. But she still said yes! And that's all that matters."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "So you feel sick and that's love? That's what that song was about?"
"No! It's enjoyable! I wouldn't trade how I felt for all the gold in the world, and neither would Maria. We've been married for 38 years, and I still love her with all the strength in my body. I'd do anything for her."
He glanced over at the now-quiet radio. "That song is about how it feels to be in love, from a youngster's view - your emotions run hot, and you can't imagine anything but the object of your affections."
He turned to the young cleaner, caught up in the passion of his speech. "And you would do well to remember that it won't always feel like that, laddie! At some point, those emotions will calm back down, and you'll be left with a quiet set of feelings. And if you're stupid, ye might think that it's over, but it isn't! That just means that you've pulled the iron out of the fire, and it's cooled into a strong, solid love that will last the ages. You follow that advice and you'll stay a happy man!"
Henry and Bear watched in surprise. They'd both known Karl for years, and had never seen him this openly emotive before.
Karl blinked as he calmed down. "Well, I wasn't expecting that to come out, but yeah, that's what love feels like."
Glancing at the clock, his eyebrows raised into his graying hair. "Cripes, it's past quitting time. I've got to be home in time for dinner!"
He quickly packed up his cleaning supplies and dragged the young cleaner into the break room. In just a few short minutes, the works were empty save for Henry and Bear.
"Humans are strange." Bear said finally.
"That statement assumes that we are normal."
"What makes you think that we're not?"
"Fair point."
"Bear."
-
As the night wore on, easy conversation slowly turned into sleepy conversation, then yawning, before the two engines decided to turn in for the night.
About 15 minutes passed before Bear's eyes snapped open. The penny had just dropped, and it felt like the farthing wasn’t too far behind.
"Henry?"
"Yes?" Henry evidently wasn't asleep either.
"Do you remember how we acted in 1971?"
"Why yes, I do. I also remember how we acted in 1969, 1972, 1973, 1974, 1975, and 1976." Henry’s voice sounded calm, which meant that he was probably on the verge of screaming.
"Interesting." Then again, Bear wasn’t too far behind him on 'nearly screaming' front. "Do you also remember that the indigestion that we both seem to be suffering from -"
"Increases whenever I see or talk or think about you? Yes."
"Henry, are we feeling love? Right now?"
"Yes. I believe we are."
"Good. What do we do now?"
"I have no idea."
"Neither do I."
"Fuck."
#ttte#sodor#fic#fools in love#sodor shenangians#ttte henry#ttte bear#these idiots have been in love for almost a decade and they figure it out now#ttte gordon#donna summer
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October Movie Reviews
The Lighthouse may have been a bust, but that wasn’t going to stop me from getting my spooky fix this October and continuing with my movie review tradition. I try to do this every year so I just had to put that bad experience behind me and move on to the next movie.
Nightbreed: The Director’s Cut
Nightbreed, the second film by Clive Barker (who I adore), isn’t one I’m unfamiliar with. I’ve seen the original theatrical version numerous times. It’s a movie about a community of monsters peacefully living in secret who suddenly have to defend themselves from the combined forces of a psychotic, xenophobic, small town sheriff and a psychiatrist turned 80s slasher villain. (And I don’t care what you say, Button Face is one of the coolest slashers I have ever seen.) So really, what is there about this not to love?
Well... for starters... There’s the fact that the movie has a much deeper story going on... that you clearly know is going on... but you don’t really know what that deeper story is because after Barker made it, 20th Century Fox left over an hour of footage on the cutting room floor so they could try to market it as a common slasher flick. That didn’t really work out for them and Nightbreed turned out to be a boxoffice bomb... wow... I wonder why... But that hasn’t stopped me from loving the movie. So I was really excited to see the director’s cut and finally see the full story.
I will say that the movie is a lot more coherent and the story is a lot easier to understand now that I can see all the stuff that was originally cut out... or... most of the stuff that was cut out... This is only the Director’s Cut after all... Not the Cabal Cut... (I swear, this movie has more cuts than Blade Runner...) But aside from being less disjointed, I was a bit disappointed to find it really didn’t add a whole lot. Maybe the Cabal Cut is better... Maybe I just need to quit putting it off and read the fucking book... But honestly, the story still made about as much sense as it did when it was only being referenced in passing... It’s been a few years since I last watched the theatrical release so I had a bit of a hard time figuring out which scenes were new and which scenes weren’t. Nothing ever jumped out at me and made me say, “Oh so that’s why that was the way it was!” It was like I still had just as much of an understanding of the movie before as I did after...
And on top of that, the Director’s Cut removed one of the coolest scenes in the movie so they could change the ending and shoehorn in this sappy, romantic, happy ending that made me feel like I was suddenly watching Twilight. So while I hate to say it... I actually enjoyed the 20th Century Fox edit better than I did Clive Barker’s actual vision for this movie.
I give Nightbreed: The Director’s Cut a pair of cracked nostalgia goggles out of 10.
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Since I was up so early in the morning, it was hard waking up. Part of me wanted to ask Isabelle to just drag me out of bed, but somehow, I managed to get up and ready. When I got to class, I took my usual spot next to Tsukasa.
“Are you okay?” he asked, a frown on his face.
“Do I look that bad?”
He waited a second too long to answer.
“You look tired.” So it was bad, wasn’t it?
“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep this morning,” I admitted as I pulled my notebook out. He gave me a sympathetic look, patting my arm. I gave him a soft smile.
“Hopefully you can take a nap after classes,” he suggested.
“I plan on it.” I glanced to the side to see Viggo and Fandamilia’s places empty. Even if Isabelle didn’t like her, she was nice to me and I would give her the benefit of the doubt for now. “Where’s Millie?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since last night” Tsukasa shrugged. “Maybe she’ll come in later.”
“She probably will,” Clive spoke up from my right. “If she drinks too much, she’ll miss our classes before lunch.” Was… Was this something normal with her? I gave Clive a quizzical look and he deflated a bit. “Fandamilia likes partying. I’m sure she just had too much to drink and she’ll be here by lunch.”
But she didn’t show. I kept waiting for her to come in late. I waited for her to come in after lunch. But she didn’t show up. Normally, I wouldn’t be worried and Clive kept trying to convince me it was fine, that she was probably just nursing a hangover, but it didn’t sit right with me. She’d been so upset last night. Was she okay?
The bell rang, dismissing us. I shoved my things into my bag and hurried back to the dorms, trying to find Fandamilia’s room. As I got to the top floor, there was only one suite that had the door shut. I opened it and immediately heard muffled sobbing. Viggo sat on the ground outside a door, arms folded over his chest. For a moment, he perked up, but then he went back to looking sour.
“Oh. It’s just you,” he said.
“Uh, hi?” I looked at the door behind him. The nameplate read “Fandamilia and Catrina.” So the crying was coming from her room. “Is… Is Fandamilia crying?”
“Yeah,” he answered, rolling his eyes. I moved to knock on the door, but Viggo grabbed my leg. “Hold on. She’s not going to let you in.”
“How do you know?”
“She didn’t let me in.” Again, that awful attitude. What is it with men here?!
“Uh, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re different people,” I couldn’t help but snap back. “Maybe she’ll let me in.”
“Aw, you’re being sassy with other men? I’m heartbroken.”
“Huh?!” I turned around to see Zett standing in the doorway, dramatically pretending to faint. “Zett?! What’re you doing here?!” Seriously?! We’re doing this AGAIN?!
“Viggo asked me to bring him some things.” He gave me a smile as he moved towards Viggo, who stood up. “You know, I was going to call you out for having a party without me when you told me what you wanted, but…” His eyes flicked over to Fandamilia’s door.
“You got it though, right?” Viggo asked.
“Of course I did.” Zett reached into his peram and pulled out a couple of bottles of wine. It suddenly clicked.
“Viggo, do you really think this is the right time to give Fandamilia alcohol?” I demanded.
“What else am I supposed to give her?”
“Money to go to therapy?” Zett suggested, folding his arms. “What happened?”
“She got into a fight with her crush and she’s been crying ever since,” Viggo told him. I knew she wasn’t doing that great last night when she stood up for us, but I had no idea she’d be this distraught over what happened.
“Oh, so you’re just going to give her wine until she forgives you?” Zett asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It was someone else,” I told him. He looked like he wanted to die.
“Oh. Uh, still, do you think this is the right thing to do? She’s the one with the drinking problem, right?” Zett said, although he still looked incredibly uncomfortable.
“Look, I’d love to do something else for her, but I can’t. She can’t go to therapy and this is the only thing besides books that I can give her to make her feel better and make her stop crying,” Viggo argued.
“You’re loaded. Just help her pay for sessions,” Zett suggested.
“No, it’s – ugh. I don’t want to air out her trauma, but therapy triggers her,” Viggo said. My heart broke for her. Zett frowned, eyes cast down onto the floor.
“That sucks that she can’t get help,” he said. Viggo sighed and folded his arms against his chest.
“Believe or not, she is. She’s better here than in the Day Class. The Prefects there are so incompetent. Noir and Blanc can help her better than they could,” Viggo told us. They could help? They were more helpful than the Day Class Prefects? Why would the Day Class even be involved with us? “This is just a security blanket for her. She’ll be fine as long as I’m close by,” Viggo said. Zett’s eyes slid over to Fandamilia’s door and he cringed.
“Are you sure about that?” Viggo glared at him and even though it wasn’t directed at me, a shiver ran down my back. Nope. You know what? This wasn’t my problem. I felt bad for Fandamilia but she wasn’t going to be coming out anytime soon and this atmosphere was getting stressful. I slipped out of the room and headed to Tsukasa’s suite. He’d probably want to know what was happening with Fandamilia.
I wandered the halls for a while before finding the suite. Tsukasa was in his kitchen, a plate of cinnamon-sugar toast in front of him. He perked up when our eyes met and he gave me a small wave.
“So, uh, I found Fandamilia. She’s doing bad,” I said, sitting down across from him. He sighed, face scrunching up.
“I was worried about that,” he said.
“Did stuff happen at the Night Cafe after I left with Zeus, or…?” I asked. Tsukasa put his piece of toast down and nodded.
“Yeah. Fandamilia started crying after you two left and she tried to order more drinks and I guess you can guess where it went from there,” he told me. So this has been going on for a while now…
“Is she really that upset over talking back to Zeus? Does she like him that much?”
“I guess. I don’t really know her,” Tsukasa shrugged. “Did you see her?”
“No. I went to her dorm and Viggo was sitting outside it and I could hear her crying from out in the hallway,” I informed him. Tsukasa sadly shook his head as he listened. We stayed and chatted for a bit, both of us resolving to go see Fandamilia later and check on her. I know Viggo was doing what he thought was best, but letting her get drunk wasn’t going to do her any favors.
It was getting late and I headed back to my own suite for dinner. As I approached it, I noticed the door was shut. Huh. I hadn’t seen a closed suite door at all and for some reason, it made me feel apprehensive. But I opened the door and as soon as I did, I could hear yelling coming from the kitchen. It was Isabelle. I didn’t exactly want to eavesdrop, but she made it hard to avoid it.
“You are such a fucking idiot sometimes, I swear!” she shouted at someone. Was she fighting with Aika? Or Dorian? Or someone else?
“I know, I know, Izzy, lay off.” My heart pounded at that voice. He really was just popping up everywhere in my life, wasn’t he? Something possessed me and I peeked into the kitchen. Isabelle was at the stove, hands on her hips, and Zett was at the table, looking sheepish of all things. Isabelle’s magenta eyes met mine and her face softened a bit.
“Ugh. How much did you hear?” she asked.
“Um, just that’s Zett’s an idiot and he knows this,” I replied. Her shoulders slumped a bit, as if a weight was off them. Zett laughed.
“Isabelle’s right to be mad at me, don’t worry about it,” he told me. “But we all make mistakes, right?” Isabelle’s eyes widened and the look on her face was… Well, she looked like she was about to snap.
“Bitch, you tried to sell drugs to a COP. That’s… ugh!” She turned back to the stove, working on something in a bowl. I looked back to Zett, incredulous.
“You did what?”I demanded. Again, he looked sheepish.
“I made a bad business decision and now Viggo’s letting me stay with him until things die down a bit in town,” he said.
“Really? He’s letting you stay with him? He looked pretty mad earlier,” I said.
“Oh yeah, he’s mad, but I asked for a favor instead of him paying me for the errand, so…” He grinned at me, resting his chin on top of his hand. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other from here on out.”
“I can’t believe you’re acting so nonchalant about this,” Isabelle spoke up harshly, whipping around to face him. “You’re acting like this is some joke to you.”
“I mean, it is kind of funny I almost sold magic cocaine to a cop,” Zett said. I didn’t know what part of that sentence to address first.
“You’re going to end up getting killed someday if you keep this up,” she said, pointing a batter-covered spatula at him. “You can’t keep doing this.”
“I have a retirement plan, but I’m nowhere near where I want to be,” he said.
“Why have a retirement plan? Do you really think you’re going to live to see thirtyat this rate? It’s a miracle you haven’t already been killed,” Isabelle said.
“Don’t underestimate me, I have-”
“Your ways, I know. To be honest, I don’t think you’re as clever as you think you are, but really, this is more about others. No one in town likes you except maybe that one girl you keep talking about, the one in the cult. Do you really you can keep going on like this here?” she demanded.
“Look, I get it, Isabelle. Can you please lay off me?” Zett’s eyes narrowed and there was a harsh edge to his voice. On one hand, I understood Isabelle’s frustration but on the other hand, she was being a little harsh. But she was right. Zett could easily get himself killed. And it was only because of a favor that he would be safe for however long he was hiding out here.
Jeez. The last couple of days have thrown curve balls at me. Not only was school hard (which I knew), but it felt like everyone was tied to Zett. And I had no idea if that was a good thing or not.
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Tenebrae
Summary: While on patrol, Jackie notices someone-or something-dragging away a dead body. Of course, he decides to introduce himself.
Warnings: blood, injuries (cuts, bruises), implied suicide
Jackie paced in a circle, trying to look for any problems. Looking around at the busy streets, he couldn’t see anyone causing any trouble. It had been a surprisingly quiet day, with only one mugging and a couple of shoplifters, so he decided to take a break for lunch. After a quick check of his phone to see if there had been any cries for help, the hero sat down, grabbed his turkey sandwich, and let his legs dangle over the edge of the building.
He took a bite out of his sandwich as his mind jumped to how he even started as a superhero. It’d been-what, about a month now? My god, it’s been that long? Jackie thought. It felt like a week. At least he had more control over his powers now. Better to stun criminals instead of accidentally shocking random people on the street. He wasn’t entirely sure that everyone else was getting the hang of this whole powers thing as easily as he was. Oh! I should totally talk to Chase, Jackie realized. He’s definitely had the most trouble controlling his powers. Maybe I should give him some tips or something? Ooh! I could make a list of ways tha-
His train of thought came to an abrupt halt as he saw a shadowy black figure with smoke pouring off of it dragging away what looked like a dead body.
Woah, who is that? Jackie wondered. Is that even a person? It doesn’t really look like a person. Maybe it’s some sort of cryptid? He stared at it for a bit, mouth agape, when he realized-Oh shit! I should be going after them-it, whatever it is. It’s probably up to no good. He chucked his sandwich onto the ledge (the birds would eat it anyway) and leaped to the next building in pursuit of the...thing.
As he got closer to it, he realized how odd the creature truly was. He-they-it, whatever it was-tried to avoid direct sunlight and stay in the shadows of buildings, like some sort of vampire. It seemed to be made of some otherworldly substance, too, even though it was shaped and moved like a person. Black smoke poured off of it, and it didn’t look super solid. It almost looks like it’s made of shadows, Jackie noted. What the hell is this thing?
On the contrary, the man that the creature was dragging along didn’t look so good. He was unconscious, and Jackie could tell that there had been a struggle of some sort. He could see some cuts on the man’s arms from being dragged along the ground, along with a weird, thick, black substance that was leaking from his eyes and mouth.
Oh God, Jackie thought. What the hell happened? He quickly caught up to them, and decided to watch for a bit to see if he could corner it somewhere instead of confronting it out in the open, where it could easily run or hide. Obviously, it was a malicious being of some sort. What else could have caused that weird black stuff to leak from that person’s eyes? He watched it walk further ahead and turn into an alleyway right in front of the building Jackie was standing on. It propped the body against the back of the alley so it was facing him. Jackie was about to jump down and pull his whole “Drop the civilian and no one gets hurt!’ schtick, until the creature solidified and formed into a man.
He was about average height, with pasty skin and dark green hair that was spiked up with hair gel. The sides of his head were shaved, and were a medium brown. He was facing away from Jackie, but was clearly hyperventilating.
“Oh fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, fucking HELL, shit, holy shit, FUCK!” he was saying. His voice was hoarse, with pauses here and there. It sounded like his vocal chords had been destroyed somehow. His volume fluctuated without control, so it sounded like there were gaps in his words. It almost sounds like his voice is glitching, Jackie thought with interest. What the hell happened to him?
He was saying to the other man, “Are you ok, dude? I have no idea what happened, I’m so sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear!! Please just...say something…….” The man burst into sobs.
Jackie was thinking about whether he should call the hospital or approach the men when the other man groaned. He had long, black, messy hair, and dark tan skin. He appeared to be a bit shorter than average and somewhat overweight. He opened his eyes slightly and said weakly, “It’s okay, man. I know you didn’t mean too.”
The first man choked and stopped sobbing. “Max! Holy shit, are you ok!? How are you feeling?”
“Eh, I’ve been better,” the second man joked. He chuckled, but it quickly devolved into coughing.
“That’s not very helpful, y’know,” the first man said with a slight smile in his voice.
“No, seriously, I’m fine."
“You look far from fine. How do you feel?”
“My head’s a bit foggy, everything aches, and my eyes really fucking hurt, but that’s it. The scratches all over my arms hurt, too. Did you have to drag me along the ground?” Max said.
The other man shrugged. “I panicked. You were heavy.”
Max smiled, then sighed. “I’m gonna take a nap. I’m really fucking tired.”
“What else is new?”
Max snorted. “You okay with just chilling here?”
“Yeah, I’ll figure something out,” the man said. “Just-don’t die on me, ok? I don’t really want that on my consciousness.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. I promise.” Max smiled and closed his eyes.
Jackie watched on in silence. He was about to leave, thinking, It seems like they’re fine, and I don’t really wanna bother them. Just as he was about to jump away, he remembered, Wait, that guy didn’t seem too healthy. He sounded really weird. Maybe he needs help or something like that. And the other guy, Max, doesn’t look too good either.
He got ready to just jump into the alley. Shit-no, I shouldn’t do that. It’ll probably scare that dude. Instead, he just yelled down, “Hey, civilian! Need any he-”
Before he could get any farther, the man looked up in alarm and saw Jackie standing on top of the building.
“HEY!!!” he yelled. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!”
“Shit,” Jackie swore under his breath. Out loud, he said, “Hey, civilian! I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was just gonna ask you if you needed any help! So, uuh, do you need any help?”
The man wasn’t even listening to Jackie. Instead he was ranting to himself, sounding extremely panicked. “Shit, shit, shit, FUCK! What the FUCK am I gonna do now! The cops are gonna be on me now, because YOU,” and he pointed at Jackie, “are probably going to call them, because of COURSE you will, an-and what am I supposed to say?! ‘Oh, I’m so sorry about this unconscious person next to me, officers!!! My roommate hugged me after I got into a fight to get me to calm down and all of a sudden black tar started coming out of his fucking eyes and mouth, and when I tried to drag him back to our apartment, I turned into some weird otherworldly fucking substance!! So sorry about that! I’ll just be on my merry way now, thank you!’”
Jackie waited until he was done. “Uhm, are you okay dude? I’m not gonna call the cops, I was only asking if you needed help. Okay?”
The man took a couple of shaky breaths and calmed down. “How did you find me?” he demanded.
Jackie blanked. What the hell am I supposed to say? I can’t tell him that I followed him or he’ll freak out! “Uuuuh...I was on patrol, standing on this building, and I just saw you walk in the alleyway…?”
“Bullshit. You totally followed me! You're not going anywhere ‘till you promise you won’t tell anyone!!!”
“Okay, okay, I won’t tell anyone anything! Jeez!! Can I go now? Please? I need to save someone,” Jackie said. He had felt his phone beep in his pocket while talking to the man, and at this point, he was ready to use any excuse to get out of the mess he caused.
The man paused, thinking. “You’re that superhero dude, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Uuuh….yeah? I’m Jackieboy Man. Why are you asking?”
The man reflected on this (again). “You have actual powers, right? None of that ‘I have some nifty gadgets and I’m stronger than an average person’ shit?”
“Yeah, I can generate electricity. Can I please leave now?”
The man thought for a bit more. “Maybe.”
“Oh for God-Why?! I have to leave, dude. Unless I’m helping you, I can’t just do whatever you want me to do. I’m going, okay? I hope your friend’s alright.”
“But by sticking around, you would be helping me.”
Jackie sighed, and hoped that the person in trouble wasn’t about to die or anything drastic like that. “Okay. What do you need help with?” he asked in a friendlier tone.
The man shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “I-I wanted to talk to you about your powers.”
Jackie thought about how to break it to the man that he couldn’t do it. “I-okay,” he said. “I can’t do it this second, since I’m still on patrol, but I’m having a meet and greet Saturday in Clive Park. If you can’t make it, I’m usually roaming around the city. My patrol hours are always 9 till 10, sometimes later. Okay? I’m sorry I can’t help you right now.”
“Wait! It’s urgent! I swear!!” the man called out. But Jackie was already running towards the other end of the building.
Jackie’s phone beeped again. He stopped halfway to the ledge and checked it. Turns out that it was a false alarm, and someone just wanted to meet him. He muttered to himself, “Damnit, I thought Chase fixed that.” He thought about what to do now. Should I go back to that weird dude, or go to a coffee shop somewhere and get some actual lunch? After some deliberation, he decided, Ehh, whatever. I’m bored, and started to walk back towards the two men in the alley.
When he got there, he called down into the alley, “Hey, I’m back. I’m free to discuss my powers.”
“I thought you had your hero duties or whatever,” the man sarcastically replied. He was leaning against the building that Jackie was standing on, and all Jackie could see was the top of his head.
“Well, they’ve been cancelled. Do you want to talk to me or not? I’m only available for a limited amount of time,” Jackie shot back.
The man sighed. “Fine. Come on down. Just-don’t get too freaked out when you see me.”
Wait, what? How bad was that fight he got into? Jackie thought to himself. He shrugged it off and said, “Okay. I won’t. If I come down there though, will you tell me what happened? I heard some of what you said before, and I’d like to know exactly what happened.” The other man started to speak, but Jackie cut him off, “No, I won’t tell the cops anything. I don’t really like cops, anyway. I’m technically a vigilante.”
The man nodded with respect. “Nice. I’ll tell you what happened. I’m Anthony, by the way. Not sure I ever mentioned that.”
Jackie started to climb down. “No, you didn’t actually. Cool name though.”
“Thanks.”
Jackie reached the alleyway, and turned to face Anthony. “So, what exactly did you want to talk abou-oH SHIT!”
Anthony’s neck was sliced open. Blood was pouring out of it, and the collar of his dark blue shirt was soaked. As well as that, his eyes were...weird. The right one was bright blue, and looked like a normal eye, but the left one was completely black. No pupil, no iris, nothing. It didn’t look very solid, either. It was constantly shifting and churning, almost like the weird creature he was before, Jackie later realized.
He looked pretty beat up, too. There were multiple cuts on his arm, and his left eye had already turned into a black eye. There were lots of bruises of different sizes and colors all over his legs.
“I told you not to freak out,” Anthony sounded hurt. At least the weird way he talked with the stutters and pauses made more sense now.
Jackie was momentarily speechless. “I-I...Your throat is slit wide open. How can I not be freaked out? You should be dead!”
“You think I don’t know that?” Anthony snapped. More blood started to pour out of his neck. He took a deep breath. “Ok, ok. I’m sorry I snapped at you, I just-today has sucked so much, and way too many things have happened. I swear I’ll tell you everything.”
Jackie hesitated. “Can I ask you one thing?”
“Fire away.”
“How the hell are you-”
“Not dead?” Anthony finished Jackie’s question. “I have no idea. I think it was a month and a half ago-ish, and I had an...accident...and my throat was sliced open. About 7 minutes after I died, I just..woke up! For no fucking reason at all. And then, a-all of this weird stuff started happening.”
“Like, all of a sudden, you could manipulate some element and you could do all of these weird things now?” the hero asked.
“Wha-yeah, exactly. How’d you know?”
“Same thing pretty much happened to me. Instead of getting my throat sliced open, I was struck with lightning. All of a sudden, electricity was bursting out of my hands and causing my phone to short-out.”
“Woah…Really?”
“Yeah! It was super weird at first, but I kind of learned to control it and use it for good! See?”
Jackie spread his hands out, and concentrated really hard. Crackles of electricity started to form in between his fingers, growing stronger and brighter. Since he was just showing off, they were a bright cyan. He smiled up at Anthony.
“Holy fuck!” Anthony said. “That’s insane!!”
Jackie dropped his hands to his sides and the electricity instantly disappeared. “Thanks!!! I usually use it to zap bad guys,” he said with a prideful grin.
There was a pause, where Anthony looked around somewhat uncomfortably. Is that all he wanted to see? Jackie wondered. If so, he coulda just looked at my Insta or something.
“So…what kinda powers do you have? Is it based off of some sort of element? Like electricity, or fire, or water, or something like that?” Jackie broke the silence.
“I...don’t really know.” Anthony replied, sounding irritated. “Everything weird that’s happened has happened involved this weird, black, goopy stuff. I have no idea what it is, which makes controlling it about 10 times harder.”
“What about your eye?”
“Oh, I have no idea how it’s doing this. I lost my eye the day after the accident, and it just formed out of nowhere about a week after I lost it.”
“Dude! That’s super cool!” Jackie said eagerly. “Can you still see out of it? Does it ever go away? Is it solid? What does it feel li-”
“Oh my God!” the man cried. “Do you ever fucking shut up?” He mumbled something that sounded like “I wish it had worked” as even more blood poured out of his neck.
Jackie was taken aback. “O-okay, I’ll stop talking,” he said hesitantly. “You could’ve just asked…”
After a pause, where he continued to stare at the floor and mumbled. Anthony looked up, seemingly confused. “No-I didn’t-ahh fuck, I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I’m not usually like that, I swear.”
“Well then, why did you say that?” Jackie asked, hurt.
“I’m getting a bit tired of saying this, but I don’t know. I’ve been just like-angier, I guess, after the...accident. Is that a side effect of your powers?”
“What, being an asshole? No, no it’s not. Seems like a convenient excuse for you, though.”
Anthony looked guilty. He mumbled, “I said that I was sorry…”
Jackie sighed. “Alright, I’m sorry I said that. Thanks for apologizing.”
There was another pause, longer this time. That’s a weird side effect, if he isn’t lying, Jackie thought. Maybe he can control something different than the rest of us.
“What do you know about your powers?” he suddenly asked Anthony. “Like what consistently shows up when you use it?”
“Uummmm, it’s always black, it shows up at night more often than daylight…what else…it’s usually either smoke-y or goopy, stuff usually happens when I get emotional…uhmmm…I think that’s it?” Anthony said.
“Hmmm…” Jackie was lost in thought. Okay, so it’s obviously something completely different compared to anyone else’s powers, he started. It seems pretty different, except for the responds to emotions thing. Maybe smoke? No, he said that it’s goopy sometimes. It usually shows up at night…darkness? That’s not really an element though. What other elements are there anyway? I think there’s like, talking to animals, levitation, lightness...
“Shadows!” Jackie cried out.
Anthony jumped slightly. “What?”
“That’s what you can control! Shadows!” Jackie excitedly said.
Anthony thought about it, and a smile appeared on his face. “Oh my God-that makes so much sense! You’re a genius, kid!”
“It was nothing,” Jackie said bashfully. “I’m just glad that I could help you out.”
Just then, there was another beep from his phone. He checked it, and someone was being mugged only 2 blocks away.
“I’m so sorry dude, I’ve got to go,” he said to Anthony. “I have to go off to do my ‘hero duties.’ I hope you’re ok with it.”
“No, you’re good man. Go ahead,” Anthony said to Jackie. “I’ll always owe you for figuring out what the fuck’s going on with me. It’d be nice to get some tips for how to control my powers, but I understand that you have to leave.”
Jackie stared at Anthony. “Uuuh, you could’ve just asked me for my phone number.”
Anthony stared back at Jackie, and burst out laughing. “Right, right-Sorry about that! I can be such a moron sometimes.”
They exchanged numbers and shook hands. Jackie was glad he met Anthony. He seems alright, he thought. Not quite as nice as Henrik or Chase, and a bit weird, but still…
Jackie was about to climb back up to the roof, when he remembered that he still wanted to ask Anthony something.
“Can I ask you one last thing before I head off?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“What was that accident that caused your throat to-uuuhh...end up like that?” Jackie asked. “That cut looks pretty deep.”
Anthony froze, scared out of his mind. He quietly mumbled, “I don’t really wanna talk about it...”
“No no, it’s okay! You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Jackie said gently. At least reassuring people was something that he’s good at.
“Thanks man. That means a lot.”
“No problem, dude.”
After a somewhat uncomfortable pause, Jackie said, “So...see ya around, I guess?”
Anthony gave him a warm smile. “Yeah...see you around.” His right eye swirled around ominously in its socket as Jackie leapt off to save another civilian.
#jacksepticeye#jacksepticeye au#jacksepticeye egos#jacksepticegos#au#alternate universe#septic egos#fanfic#My fic#fanfiction#jackieboy man#jbm#anti#antisepticeye#this one was fun to write#writing
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