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heysoup · 4 years

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Fluffy February Day 4 - Halloween

Phew! I’m a little late, but I managed to make it while the day’s still here. This is day four of @fluffyfebruary and the prompt is Halloween.

Chapter 4: I’ll Be Yours

Pairing: Butch DeLoria/Male Lone Wanderer

Summary: During a Halloween party, Susie suggests that the group of teens play spin the bottle. Jamie isn't one for parties, isn't even one for socializing if he's honest with himself, and he definitely isn't excited to play this game. But Butch has been looking at him all night, and something in his heart tells him this might be different.

Ao3 Link

“Thanks for helping, Jamie,” Amata says from where she’s perched at the top of a step ladder hanging colorful streamers along the ceiling.

Jamie smiles up at her from his own task of making Halloween-themed snacks, “of course.”

She climbs down the ladder and brushes her hands off on the pants of her vault suit, looking up at her handiwork with an approving nod. Orange and purple streamers hang in delicate loops from the ceiling. Hanging among them are dainty origami bats – all handmade by Amata and Susie. They even found some old Christmas lights and strung them up along the walls, hoping that when the main lights were turned off it would create some kind of spooky atmosphere, even if they were red and green.

They’re preparing for their first ever Halloween party as ‘adults.’ Now that everyone in their class was eighteen, Amata had finally gotten her dad to cave and allow them to throw a party at the Mack’s apartment, since it was one of the largest. How she managed to pull it off, Jamie has no idea.

He finally finishes icing the last of his ghost-shaped cookies and walks over to join her, letting out an impressed whistle. “Looks great!” he says, and she smiles at him.

Susie and Wally walk out into the living room from the hallway – they’re wearing freshly pressed vault suits that are tailored a bit closer to their bodies than the normal ones, the blue and yellow fabric even more vivid than usual. Susie’s platinum hair is poker-straight and pulled back into a ponytail with a cherry red bow. Her lipstick matches the bow’s color perfectly. Wally’s hair is plain, but neatly combed – they look nice, but if Jamie’s honest, he doesn’t see how it’s supposed to be a costume.

Amata seems to think the same. “So… what are you guys going as again?” she asks, a sheepish smile on her face. Wally rolls his eyes and elbows Susie.

“I told you they wouldn’t get it!”

“Oh shut it, we just have to do the thing!” Susie pulls at her brother’s arm, who groans in response.

“FINE.” They both look at Jamie and Amata with their cheesiest smiles - Susie’s looking much more genuine than Wally’s – and give them a thumb’s up.

“Uh…” Jamie doesn’t see how that’s supposed to clear anything up for them.

“We’re Vault Boy and Vault Girl!” Susie snaps, crossing her arms. Wally huffs and shakes his head before walking over to the couch and plopping down, reaching into the pumpkin-shaped plastic bowl on the coffee table to shove some chips in his mouth.

“I could tell!” Amata says, trying to appease her. “You look great, Susie! I love the lipstick.” She grabs Jamie’s hand and twines their fingers together. “We have to go get our costumes ready now, but we’ll be right back. Party starts in thirty, right?”

Susie nods, changing into hostess mode once again. “It looks really good in here, by the way. You did a great job, Amata” She smiles and then says, as an afterthought, “uh and Jamie, too, I guess.”

---

Back in Amata’s room, she and Jamie busy themselves with changing into their costumes. Amata is dressed to the nines in a slim-fitting black dress with emerald green accents that she had sewn herself with her mother’s old machine. She has a pair of elbow-length black gloves made from leftover pantyhose and a pearl necklace around her neck that Jamie found in the lower levels of the vault. He kept the details of where he found it to himself. Her costume is pretty close to looking exactly like the original Mistress of Mystery, they've just taken a few creative liberties.

She’s sitting at her vanity, applying her makeup and curling her hair when she asks, “so, are you excited?” Jamie puts down the comic he’s reading and sits up on her bed. He’s already changed into his outfit – just a simple flannel, some jeans, aged brown leather boots that his dad had stowed away in his closet for some reason, and the closest thing they could find to a ten-gallon hat, which is currently around his neck and hanging at his back. A plastic pistol and a makeshift paper holster sit beside him.

“Yeah,” he settles with, trying his hardest to sound convincing. It’s not that he isn’t excited, he’s just nervous. He’s already kind of a social outcast, which is bad enough. What’s even worse is that Butch will be there, which was fine and normal, except for the fact that it wasn’t because just a last week they’d technically had their first kiss down in their hideout, which Jamie had freaked out over and literally ran away from, and then proceeded to pretend it never happened. Outside of work they’d been too busy to hang out recently, so this will be the first time he sees him in such a casual setting since. It’s not like he can ask Amata for advice – she doesn’t even know he’s friends with Butch for one and she’s unlikely to approve, and what if she asks about their hideout? It’s too risky, not to mention humiliating!

“Jamie!” Amata is snapping at him, a soft smile on her face. He blinks and laughs, feeling out of breath despite the fact that all his talking was in his head. What a mess.

“Hah, sorry. Just thinking. I’m kinda nervous, but you know how I am with people.” He shrugs, picking at his nails. Amata walks over and ruffles his hair.

“Hey, it’ll be fun!” she says, trying to sound encouraging. She takes his hands in hers and pulls him off the bed. “But if you get overwhelmed just let me know, we can just come back here and listen to something on the radio – I don’t mind.”

Jamie smiles at her and pulls her close, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of her head. Man, he missed her.

---

It’s been about an hour and the party is going pretty well. The lights are all off aside from the string lights, which, as Amata predicted, create a pretty nice ambience. Everyone is chilling out and listening to music and talking amongst themselves. A few people are playing board games and enjoying snacks, some are dancing.

Jamie’s nerves have calmed a bit – Wally had the brilliant idea to bribe Stevie to leave them some beer, which Jamie is sipping on contentedly from his seat on the couch beside Freddie and Amata.

Everyone’s costumes turned out great too, Jamie thinks. Freddie came as a werewolf – he’d ripped the arms off his vault suit and used grease paint to draw brown hairs all over himself. He’d even given himself a little black dog nose and glued paper triangles to a headband that could pass as ears. It’s a little messy, but he put effort in.

Paul decided to be a vampire and he’s dressed almost as well as Amata, in a fancy white shirt, black slacks, and a tie – probably the same clothes he wore to prom. He has a long black and red cape wrapped around his shoulders. The fake teeth he’s wearing keep popping out of his mouth when he laughs, and Jamie grins at the sight of him fumbling to catch them across the room.

Butch is next to him, laughing his ass off, flask in hand. Apparently, he’s supposed to be a Greaser – he’s wearing his Tunnel Snake jacket and his hair is slicked into its usual pompadour. The only difference is he’s swapped out his vault suit for a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, which he says are classic. He meets Jamie’s gaze from across the room and smirks, sticking his tongue out at the other boy. Jamie looks away quickly, his face red.

Christine is across from Amata on the other couch, chatting with Susie. She’s dressed in a long white sleeping gown with matching slippers. On her back, she has small, handmade angel wings. Their puffy feathers occasionally fall off and stick to every surface, leaving a trail all over the apartment wherever she goes.

Susie turns the radio down a bit then stands and claps to grab everyone’s attention. “Alright, ghouls and gals,” she giggles to herself, “I think it’s about time we started the real party!” Jamie quirks a brow at her and can’t help but notice Amata’s peeved expression.

Everyone who wasn’t already near the couches crowds around and Jamie jumps when he feels two hands clap down on his shoulders. Butch is leaning over the back of the couch, grinning down at him.

“Hey, Nosebleed,” he says with a smirk, leaning closer to his ear. “Cute costume. Who are ya, Calamity Jane?” He tips Jamie’s cowboy hat down into his face playfully.

It’s supposed to be a jab. They don’t typically act friendly in public; something still just feels off about that and they aren’t ready for their relationship to change that drastically. This feels different, however, and Jamie can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. He hadn’t spoken to Butch all night, he wasn’t sure if the other boy would want him too, but somehow this felt like an invitation.

“Nice costume yourself,” he taunts. He can still feel the heat of the other boy’s body against the back of his neck even as Butch pulls away and stands up straight again. “You supposed to look like a knock-off James Dean?”

Susie clears her throat, shooting Jamie an impatient look. “Anyway, as I was saying,” she continues, the giddy smile returning to her face as she holds up an empty beer bottle. “We should play spin the bottle!”

Butch groans from behind him. “Come on, Susie, that’s such a kid’s game.”

Susie sticks her tongue out at him. “If you could let me finish! We’re going to play it with seven minutes in heaven rules, obviously. This isn’t middle school. We’re adults now.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “So, whoever it lands on gets to go into the hall closet. That more grown-up for you, Butch?”

Butch shrugs, “I guess.”

“I think it sounds fun!” Christine chimes in.” It’s harmless, anyway. Come on, let’s just play. Who knows if we’ll ever be allowed to have a party again?”

---

After moving some of the furniture and grabbing a few pillows for them to sit on they’re all crowded in a circle on the rug in the living room. Jamie is still next to Amata, then Freddie, Wally, Christine, Butch, Susie, and Paul. There’s eight of them, so the odds would be even, but Wally is related to both Christine and Susie – which he continues to complain is unfair.

“Oh shut it, Wally. If it lands on us, just spin again.” Susie snaps and sets the bottle in the middle of the circle. She leans back on her knees, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, actually, there’s two choices. You can either kiss whoever the bottle lands on in the circle publicly,” Christine interjects with a low ‘ooooooh’ and leans closer to Butch, who grins.

“Or!” Susie continues, “you can choose to go into the closet for seven minutes.”

Jamie’s gut twists uncomfortably. He really didn’t want to play this, anyway, let alone when he might be forced to watch Butch slobber on someone. But he’s here for Amata and for his dad, he guesses, who said it would be good for him to behave like a well-adjusted and social teenager for once.

They’re a few spins in and nothing incredible had happened. Wally spun on Susie twice before landing on Paul and the two went into the closet with their handheld games to pass the time. After, Christine landed on Freddie and chose a kiss – which was more of an awkward peck on the side of the mouth than anything else.

Butch rubs his hands together before leaning forward to spin the bottle, making eye contact with Jamie for a split second and shooting him a wink. Jamie’s heart leaps into his throat and he splutters mid drink, trying to hide his embarrassment behind a small cough.

The bottle spins around the circle once before slowing. For a split second, Jamie thinks it’s going to land on him, but it keeps going achingly slow past Paul and… lands on Susie. Christine claps, Amata wolf whistles, and Wally spits out a half-hearted threat about Butch touching his sister. Jamie sees Butch’s smile fade when he looks at Susie, but he catches himself quick and shoots her his most charming smirk.

“How’s about we hit the closet, babe?” he says, laying the greaser schtick on extra thick tonight. Susie blushes red as her bow and stands with him. They hold hands and both go down the hall and into the closet, the door closing softly behind them. Once they’re inside, Christine sets the egg timer they have to seven minutes and the murmur of conversation breaks out among the small group once again.

“How are you doing?” Amata nudges him gently. Jamie didn’t realize he’d just been staring at the bottle, his shoulders tense. He lets out a long sigh and shakes his limbs loose, leaning over to bump their shoulders together.

“I’m fine. This is fun, huh?” He says, trying to convince himself more than anything. He stares at the egg timer, trying not to imagine what could be happening in the closet. He looks back over at Amata and sees her smiling at him, a soft sadness behind her eyes – almost pity. Was he really that obvious?

“I’m gonna get another drink, want one?” he asks, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Amata just lifts her bottle that isn’t even half empty, a sheepish smile on her face.

“No thanks.”

Jamie walks to the kitchen. He rubs his eyes, his face already feeling warm. He’d only had two, maybe three beers. He definitely isn’t even close to being as drunk as he was when he and Butch… he shakes the thoughts of that night out of his head, dropping his empty beer bottles into the garbage can with a bit more force than he’d intended.

Before grabbing another beer, Jamie pours himself a shot of vodka for good measure. Butch must have brought it from his mom’s stash. It burns like hell going down and Jamie almost gags – how could anyone drink this stuff?

“Yo, Jamie!” He hears Freddie call for him and he grabs his beer and heads back to the circle. Butch and Susie are back. Her lipstick is smudged and she’s fixing her ponytail while whispering excitedly to Christine. Butch doesn’t look much better – his hair slightly mussed up and a bit of cherry red still spread on the corner of his lip. Jamie thinks he might be sick.

The timer goes off just as he sits back down, and Paul walks out of the closet with Amata. He’s scrambling to put his vampire teeth back in his mouth, his cape crooked around his neck, and Amata’s face is flushed when she sits next to Jamie. He can’t help his snort and she slaps him on the shoulder.

“It’s your turn, spaz.” Wally says, kicking the bottle his way. He looks pissed, glaring at Butch. Jamie wonders if they’ll fight later because he played tonsil hockey with his sister. He almost hopes they do, just so Butch can get his ass kicked like he deserves.

Jamie reaches forward and gives the bottle a half-hearted spin, just wanting to get his turn over with as soon as possible. It twirls and lands immediately on Butch. He feels like he’s swallowed a rock.

Butch let’s out a theatric groan, “I ain’t kissin’ you, Nosebleed, so let’s just go to the closet and get this over with.” Jamie’s face is on fire and he slams his beer down on the floor.

“Get stuffed, Butch!” It’s my turn, not yours, so I choose what we do!” Butch quirks an eyebrow at him and barks out a laugh, joined by everyone in the circle – aside from Amata, who squeezes Jamie’s hand reassuringly.

“So, you’re sayin’ you wanna kiss the Butch-man?” Jamie thinks he’s going to die, then. Or kill Butch, and then die. Like a murder suicide. Him and his stupid fucking mouth; he didn’t even think about how that would sound.

“N-No!” Jamie practically yells, his voice a squeak. “Fuck you!” He stands, crossing his arms. “Let’s go, closet then. Get this over with before I kick your ass.” He storms to the closet. Butch gets to his feet and follows him with a smug confidence that Jamie wants to beat out of him.

Suddenly remembering who he’s dealing with Wally says, “Hey! No fighting in my closet. You get blood on my dad’s coats and I’ll pummel you both.” They both turn and simultaneously flip the other boy off before shouldering their way into the closet and slamming the door.

It’s more cramped inside than Jamie expected it to be. Darker, too. The darkness is perfectly fine with him – he doesn’t even want to look at Butch right now. Though, that doesn’t last long as his eyes adjust.

“Hey, Nosebleed,” Butch whispers, his voice and his smile infinitely softer than they were a moment ago. They’re close, really close and Jamie’s head is swimming. Their knees bump when they move and the heat of their bodies radiating through the small space is almost suffocating. He can just make out the details of Butch’s face – the handsome slope of his nose and the playful quirk of his lips. He tries to stay mad, but it’s hard. He wants to kiss him so bad.

“Fuck off,” Jamie breathes, but his aggression is lackluster. Butch’s breath is warm against his face and it smells sweet, like mint. Butch chuckles softly.

“Aw, you’re mad at me?” he coos, leaning in closer and practically pressing Jamie against the opposite wall. “You know I was just kidding, Jamie. C’mon, they don’t know what we do.”

Jamie gulps, wondering if Butch means them just hanging out together or if he’s referencing something more. “As if I’d take Susie’s sloppy seconds ,” he hisses, determined to hold his grudge. Ok, so maybe their first kiss did mean something. He’s pretty sure they’re both drunk again, but they definitely aren’t wasted like before – there’s absolutely no way for Butch to pass whatever happens off as a mistake later. IF something happens.

Butch pulls back a little and looks almost hurt. “Hey, it’s just a dumb game,” he says, tilting his head to try and catch Jamie’s gaze, who refuses to look at him. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, okay? You know how much of a crybaby she can be.”

“Well, I’m not a crybaby, so you can keep it in your pants,” Jamie snaps and crosses his arms, shooting Butch as convincing of a glare as he can manage. The other boy just rubs the back of his neck, his posture suddenly a bit more closed off.

“Dammit, Jamie, ya know that’s not what I mean!” Jamie’s heart is thundering in his ears and his chest is so, so tight. He swallows thickly. He does know what Butch means but fuck it if he isn’t going to make the other boy work for it.

“Maybe I don’t,” he states matter-of-factly. Butch clicks his tongue in annoyance and shoves his hands in his pockets. Jamie can feel the distance between them growing further and he panics, desperate to cling to whatever moment they’re having here.

“What do you want?” he asks finally, his voice barely a whisper as he offers Butch this olive branch. The intensity he finds in Butch’s gaze when their eyes meet almost knocks him over.

“You.” It’s a single word, spoken so softly that Jamie almost can’t hear it, but it steals his breath away, nonetheless. He doesn’t even stop to think when he reaches forward and grabs the lapels of Butch’s jacket. He pulls him close, his eyes closing as their lips crash together in a clumsy kiss. It’s just as good as the last, the other boy’s lips warm and inviting as he returns the gesture with enthusiasm.

Butch grabs the back of Jamie’s head, knocking his silly cowboy hat to the floor, and curls his fingers into his hair. Jamie grins into his mouth when Butch nips his lower lip and he grabs the collar of his shirt, playfully shoving the taller boy against the opposite wall.

“Ow!” Butch hisses when he hits his head off the shelf above them, pulling back for a second to make sure it wasn’t too loud. Jamie’s face goes white.

“Oh god, sorry!” he whispers, letting go and pulling back in embarrassment. Butch just laughs.

“S’fine,” he mumbles, unable to stop smiling. He reaches out and pulls Jamie close again, silencing the other boy’s concerns with his lips.

They continue like that for a while, breathless and excited, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths and their arms holding them close like their lives depend on it. It really does feel like heaven, Jamie thinks, an excited laugh escaping his chest.

They could have stayed there forever, lost in their own little world, but they’re interrupted by a sharp knock on the other side of the door. “Time’s up! You can leave hell now.” Wally is laughing out in the hallway.

Butch and Jamie jump apart, their chests heaving and their lips pink. Butch just grins at him, blue eyes shining with mischief. “Should we pretend we were fighting?”

Jamie laughs. “Sure, but that means you’ll have to admit that I won,” he teases, picking up his hat and turning to leave. Butch grabs his wrist and tugs Jamie back to him. There’s a very serious expression on his face all of a sudden and he's biting his lip like he's thinking before he reaches out to tilt Jamie’s chin up. He leans down and presses one more open-mouthed kiss to his lips and it feels almost desperate. Jamie’s breath is stolen away again, at least whatever was left of it, and when they part, he just stares, dumbfounded, at Butch’s adoring smile.

“Whatever you want, Nosebleed.”

#fallout #fallout 3 #fluffyfebruary #butch deloria #lone wanderer #male lone wanderer #butch/m!lw #fanfiction #fanfic #spin the bottle #mlm #fluff #kissing #jay writes #fluffyfeb

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sweet-sammy-kisses · 4 years

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Cream Puffs and Puppies Chapter 2

For TimKon week Prompt: Matchmaker. I went in a different direction with the prompt. I hope you enjoy. Pairings: Kon/Tim, Jason/Roy/Kory, Cass/Cassie, Dick/Wally, Diana/Bruce, and Jon/Damian You can also read it on AO3

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this." Jason Todd growled as he glared at his two lovers and then his little sister.

"Come on Jason, you have to admit that it is clear that Bruce, Dick, and even the little demon miss Tim, and Tim misses them greatly." Roy reminded the growling man.

"I know that! I just don't get why we have to do this at a stupid con or why we have to dress up!" Jason hissed back as he tugged at his costume, at least it wasn't something ridiculous. "And why the hell can't I wear a shirt?"

"Because Dante doesn't wear a shirt." Kory happily informed Jason stealing a quick kiss. "How do I look?" She asked twirling around in her cosplay outfit.

"You look amazing." Roy came to stand beside Kory they both ended up going as Neo Queen Serenity and Neo King Endymion both looked amazing as their characters.

Cass had decided to go as Sailor Mars and Jason had a feeling a big part of her choice had to do with the fact that Cassie was going as Sailor Venus.

"Just so you know the only reason I am doing this is because I want to see what Blondie and Babs picked for Bruce, Dickie, and the demon spawn," Jason informed them as he crossed his arms over his chest.

A wide grin appeared on Roy's face as he clapped Jason on the back, "Sure Jay whatever you say."

Jason glared at Roy then turned his attention to Elizabeth, who he ended up adopting after his fifth visit when Tim rolled his eyes and shoved the adoption papers in his hands and told him to just fill them out already, gave him a doggy grin full of love. "Fine, let's get this over with."

+*****+

"You look amazing my space husband." Tim beamed at Conner who had finished putting the final touches on his costume. In Tim's opinion, he made a very handsome Shiro.

Tim had decided to go as Keith Kogane when Conner surprised him with tickets to a comic con and every Keith needed his own Shiro.

Conner could only smile as he pressed his lips against Tim's he knew his lover was obsessed with Voltron and what he called the epic love story of Keith and Shiro, he refused to accept the ending that neither Keith and Shiro or Lance and Allura ended up together.

"How dare they deny them their happy ending." Tim hissed as he watched the final seasons.

Conner had kept a close on Tim after that, the last thing he wanted was for him to do something drastic like buy the studio and redo the entire last season himself.

"The last time I went..." Tim trailed off the last time he went Dick had been there, they even managed to get Bruce to come along with them.

"Come on we better get going to meet the others." Conner stole a kiss from Tim, he hated the pain in Tim's eyes, he knew that he still missed his family. 'Please let this plan work.'

+******+

Barbara Gordon wasn't someone you messed around with, she rolled into the Batcave with Alfred and Stephanie both behind her.

"If you want to win back Tim this is your chance," Barbra informed them as she passed them their outfits. "You have half an hour to get ready before I call in reinforcements in the form of Wally, Jon, and Diana." Grinning as her threat had the effect she wanted she rolled herself out of the Batcave, she had her costume to pack.

With Bruce having his own plane it was easy to get them to San Francisco in time. Of course, Barbra had left out the little fact that Wally, Jon, and Diana would still be joining them. She rather enjoyed watching Jon appear in front of Damian and hug him.

Barbra made sure to get photos she had no clue how Diana convinced Bruce that yes he had to dress up as Wesley from the Princess Bride to her Buttercup but she had managed to do so. She had a feeling the black outfit helped.

Jon had picked Sasuke for Damian and Naruto for himself. Damian's scowl matched Sasuke's perfectly while Jon was just as happy as his character was.

Wally and Dick, well Babs was impressed at how much Dick managed to look like Tony Stark while Wally looked like a stupidly in love Steve Rogers as he gazed at Dick. 'Perfect for them.'

Barbra had chosen to go as Captain Marvel (Carol) and she rather pleased with how her costume had turned out.

Stephanie looked amazing as Spider Gwen, she looked unrecognizable.

"Now remember that our goal is to talk to Tim and prove to him how much we miss him." Dick reminded them. Guilt had eaten at him when Jason returned Red Robin's suit and everything to them. He had failed his little brother.

"Indeed." Damian, after Jon, pointed out how he talked and treated Tim had been wrong, had come to realize that both he and Tim were loved and wanted. He needed to make amends for his past treatment of Tim.

+*****+

"Wow, you guys look amazing." Tim praised as he caught sight of everyone's costumes. Raven looked amazing as Gamora and Gar looked like he was having a blast as Star-Lord. Bart was hopping around as Spiderman and Cassie looked amazing as Sailor Venus.

"Let's go," Jason growled as he stalked towards the entrance.

Linking hands with Conner Tim pulled him to follow after his older brother.

+****+

They had been there for about an hour when Conner got the text he was waiting for.

We are here.

Giving the signal to the others they followed Cass who would easily find her family.

"Look," Tim whispered to Conner as he walked behind his sister and friend.

Conner grinned as he spotted the link hands between Cass and Cassie and the faint blush on both of their cheeks.

"Hey Spiderman, looking good." Spider Gwen appeared out of nowhere, nudging Bart in the side.

Tim blinked he would know that voice anywhere. "Steph?" He had been so focused on being happy for Cass and Cassie that he hadn't been paying attention to the fact that he had been lead into a room.

Tugging off her hood Stephanie grinned at Tim, "Hey, ex-boyfriend long time no see."

It took Tim one glance around the room to see who else was there and his chest clenched. "What are you all doing here?"

Dick took a step towards Tim, "We are here for you Tim. To ask for a second chance to make things right with you. To prove that we love you, that you are part of our family. I know I haven't been the best brother to you and I want to fix that."

Bruce followed Dick and came to stand next to his oldest, "You are my son and I am sorry that I should have never made sure you knew that."

Jon nudged Damian who rolled his eyes as he followed his family, "I owe you an apology, Drake... Timothy. I was wrong in how I treated you and I wish to get to know you as my brother."

Dick gave Tim a a pleading look, "I love you, Tim, we all do will you give us a second chance?"

Tim had missed them all so much, yes they had hurt him deeply but he couldn't deny them that he missed them and wanted them back in his life. "Okay, I missed you all and I want my family back."

Dick moved and engulfed Tim in a tight hug. "I have missed you, little brother. And I'm not going to lose you again."

Tim clung to Dick, he had missed his hugs, "I missed you too big brother."

Jason rolled his eyes as he spotted Bruce's hands twitching, "Oh hug him already." Jason wasn't in the mood to watch him brood.

Tim and Dick were engulfed in Bruce's warmth as he hugged them to his chest.

Jon looked at Damian, "I am not hugging them." Damian informed his boyfriend.

A sweet smile appeared on Jon's face, "You're here that is a good start."

Once the hug broke Tim turned to face Conner, "Was this your idea?" He asked.

Conner grinned sheepishly, "It was a joint effort. We could see how much you missed them. You weren't whole without them and from what Stephanie and Barbra said they were even more miserable than you. Besides, I figured you would want your father to walk you down the aisle."

The room went silent as everyone stared at Conner.

Tim's eyes were wide, "Are you asking me to marry you?"

Conner fell down to one knee and pulled out the ring box he had been carrying around with him for a month, "Timothy Drake-Wayne since the moment I met you my life was changed for the better. I couldn't imagine my life without you. The day I met you was the day I met my soulmate and I want to spend the rest of our lives together and be able to call you my husband. So will you marry me?"

Tim lunged at Conner, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

"I think that is a yes," Bart commented.

Bruce let out a distress noise that had Diana linking their hands together, "I think this is wonderful a union blessed by the Gods. Their souls have always been meant to be one." She whispered to Bruce who could only grunt.

Wally shook his head as Dick looked torn between happy that Tim was getting married or upset that his baby brother was getting married. "Conner is good for him and he will treat Tim the way he deserves to be treated." Wally did his best to comfort Dick.

"Don't worry I already gave Conner a long and very detailed list of what will happen to him should he hurt baby bird." Jason drawled out.

"What! You knew?" Dick whirled around and glared at his brother who just let out a crackle than a curse as Dick tackled him.

While chaos broke out behind them Tim broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Conner's, "The answer, by the way, is yes. Thank you for bringing my family back to me."

"Anything for you my space husband."

#timkon week #timkon #kon x tim #birdflash #wonderbat #jason x roy x kory #sherri writes #my ficlets

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poc-movie-supremacy · 4 years

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Blackbird: Heaven is in your arms

Yes, this is part of the blackbird universe, but for now, it’s almost a standalone. Blackbird’s original intent was arrowverse characters coming home from war, so that’s why there’s a westallen one. I was planning on doing one for cynco and kanvers + kate and mary, but I’m not sure anymore.

Anyways, summary: The house is lonely without him. Iris at home waiting for Barry to come home from war.

----

Iris hates quiet. It reminds her of loneliness which is what she is and she wants nothing more than to forget that. Every night she places a record in the record machine. Last night it was “Cheek to cheek” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. She cooks a meal for herself, usually something small, she lost her appetite a long time ago. Iris eats in the bay window watching the stars, sometimes the people outside if something interesting is happening. She wants to join them but it’s hard.

Iris wonders if Barry sees the same stars she does. She wonders if he misses her like she misses him.

After her dinner is half eaten, she turns off the record and goes to bed. At first she tried sleeping in their bed, but it was too big, too empty. That bed was meant for two people, not one. Iris sleeps on the couch instead. She wraps up her hair, changes into her pajamas and brushes her teeth. Turning off all lights except the lamp next to the couch, she gets the box and settles on the couch. The box is filled with all the letters Barry has sent her while he’s deployed. She always reads them before she goes to sleep. It always soothes her to, if not hear his voice, read his words. Sometimes they even chase away the nightmares.

Every single morning she wakes up with a crick in her neck. It’s better than waking up to an empty bed. She undoes the wrap, changes into her work clothes, a pair of red heels, black pencil skirt, blouse, and blazer and puts her hair up into a fancy braid that her mom loves. Aretha Franklin fills the apartment as Iris gets ready for work. The coffee pot chimes done just as she finishes putting on her makeup, so Iris pours herself a cup and grabs a chocolate muffin to eat in the bay window. She watches the people head off to work as she tries to think of anything but where Barry is. The minute she starts on that train, she’ll fall into a black hole of unwanted messy thoughts.

After finishing breakfast, she joins the crowds heading to their nine-to-five. Linda give her a smile when she opens the door to the Citizen. Her intern, Allegra, informs her of the interviews Mason wants her to do. Iris wants to choke him.

“Heavy workload?” Linda asks her during lunch.

“Sometimes I wonder if being a cop would be easier.” Iris complains.

“What do you have to do?” Linda wondered. She, Allegra, Kamilla, and Iris were sitting together eating lunch in the park next to the CCPN building. They befriended each other through work and have stuck by each other since then. Iris wondered what she’d do without them.

“I already finished editing my articles, now I just need to complete my politics article, and the one on the string of murders down on sixth street.”

Linda wrinkled her nose in disgust. “How’s the coppers handling it?”

“Baffled. I think they’re starting to get worried. I’m hoping my article will bring this to public attention and help the situation.” Iris said.

“That’s the hope.” Linda agreed.

After work, she goes home and takes a long bath. This time, Tina Turner is playing in the apartment. The same routine plays out again. No mail has been delivered, so she has nothing new to read from Barry. She hopes he’ll come home soon as she drifts off to sleep.

The rest of the weeks are the same. In these two weeks, she got one new letter from him. He says things are lightening up, and there might be good news in the future. He writes of the new people he’s met across the seas, the places he’s seen, and how much he misses. Apparently she’s been somewhat of a character to the soldiers. Iris West, possible goddess, and Barry’s long suffering wife. They want to meet her. Iris wonders what things he told them. She hope it’s all good things. She hopes his wandering mind stays on his shoulders so he doesn’t... nevermind.

On Wednesday, she wakes up and gets ready for work. Her brother reminds her that their parents wanted to see them on Friday, so she better not forget to come. She went to work as usual, but had to go see Wally before going home. She was tempted to stay with him in an effort to avoid going back to her empty house, but he practically pushed her out of his house. Iris could’ve sworn she saw him smiling.

The walk to their apartment was quiet. At least there wasn’t anyone on the street to distract her. She tried to come up with a reason for her brother’s sudden happiness. Barry’s homecoming came to mind, but that wasn’t for weeks so it was brushed aside.

Music was the first thing that struck Iris as odd when she opened the door to the apartment. It was the little ditty Barry wrote her for their engagement. He dabbled in music a little before he was drafted. It’s why they own so many instruments. A guitar, a piano, a violin, they’ve all suffered from disuse now. Arts, when concerning music, was never Iris’s forte.

As she stepped further into the apartment, cooked food could be smelled. She placed a hand on the taser in her purse just in case it was an intruder and walked softly further into the place.

A skinny man was hunched over the piano, fingers flying over the keys. He was in a formal army outfit sans the hat.

“Barry.”

Fingers stilled on the keys.

Slowly he turned around a tired, yet happy smile dancing across his face, lighting up his features. She dropped her purse, almost setting off the taser and started bawling. He quickly raced to her side before she fell to the ground. Easily, he lifted her up and twirled around crying himself. Her legs wrapped around his waist. His hug almost crushed her. She never wanted him to let go.

“Shh baby, Iris, baby. I’m okay. I’m alright I’m home.” Iris sobbed into his shoulder. He held her tightly, not caring one bit that his suit was getting dirty with her tears. For once, she felt safe. There was nothing better than being held by Barry Allen.

“I missed you, so damn much. The house-”

“I’m not leaving, not again.” He didn’t. Apparently this was his last deployment. Hearing that made Iris cry harder, but this time they were happy tears. He cradled her face in his hand gently wiping away her tears. His eyes swept over face. It had been so long since he last saw her, he wanted to re-memorize every last feature. Her golden brown eyes, her curly black hair, her tear drop face. He kissed her all over, eyes, cheeks, lips.

That was what finally calmed her tears. Giggling she asked, “You missed this?”

“I miss a lot of things.” He kissed the shell of her ear and along her jaw. “I missed your smile, and your voice. I missed your thoughts, and you kisses. I missed falling asleep next to you, dancing with you... Kara’s a good dancer, but she’s not you.”

“Well then,” Iris shimmied out of his arms, and grabbed his hand. She placed a record on the record player, The Temptations, “My Girl” and extended her other hand. “Can I have this dance?”

“Always.” He kissed her knuckles before pulling them into waltzing formation. Left hand in her right, right hand on her butt, so close together the holy spirit got squished. They’re married anyways.

He quietly sang along to the song as they danced. Iris pressed her cheek to his chest in an attempt to get as close as possible to him. Maybe she was being insane, but after months without him close, she never wanted to let go. After a few dances, they meandered to the kitchen to eat.

Barry sat down at the head of the table with Iris in his lap. She made up one big plate for the two of them. As they ate, they swapped stories about their time away from each other. He told her stories of the Diggles, Jesse Wells, Cynthia Reynolds, Kara Zor-el. Friends he made like Alex Danvers, Mary Hamilton, Beth Chapel and Yolanda Montez. In return she updated him on how his parents, her parents and Wally were doing. She told tales of her and her journalism adventures with Linda, Allegra, and Kamilla.

“Look like you’ve been having fun here.” Barry grossed.

“Not as much fun as I’ll have with you here with me. I missed you baby.” Iris says. Barry kissed the top of Iris’s forehead.

“I’m going to see if Bridge will let me take the day off. We could go on a date!” Iris left his lap much to his sadness. “Hunn, let me get some wine and ice cream. The good wine.”

Barry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Fancy.”

“Well it’s a special day,” Iris returned to his lap with a small tub of ice cream, two spoons, and two glasses of wine. “Happy homecoming.”

“Happy homecoming.”

After dinner, Barry did the dishes while Iris cleaned up the living room. When he was done, Barry rushed up to her picking her up and twirling her around. He carried her up to their bedroom and dumped her on the bed. Iris thanked her lucky stars that he didn’t comment on its near sterile-ness.

“I love you.” Barry stares at her below him. Her hair is splayed out on the pillow, her face is stretched out in a smile. Iris reaches up to pull him towards her. She peppers kisses on his face before leaving.

“I’m just going to get changed.” He watches her put on one of his old shirts and a pair of underwear. Slowly, he gets up from the bed to get ready for sleep himself. Their movements are a little robust, getting used to sharing this room again, but it’ll be ok.

In bed, she wraps herself around him, finding comfort in his hold. Softly, she traced some of his scars and tattoos with her finger. He turned off the lights, and for once, she knew she wouldn’t need his letters to chase away the nightmares.

#the flash #westallen #iris west allen #iris west #barry allen #linda park #allegra garcia #kamilla hwang #ella's flash fics #we're all fic writers here #blackbird

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biandlovewifi · 5 years

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Imagine

Imagine Wally and Dick break up and Dick moved back in to the manor until he finds another place. Since he’s the oldest he feels he has to stay strong in front of his brothers, so while he makes it seem as though he was completely normal and fine, Jason and Tim make jokes about it that slowly crush Dick. Don’t forget Damian who every two seconds announces he never like “West” and thought the speedster was the lowest Dick could go.

One night at dinner Jason said something along the lines of, “Y’know I feel bad for Wally. He had to put up with your nonesense so long no wonder he broke up with you.” It was a typical thing they said and Jason thought nothing of it. None of them noticed a thing until Dick quietly stood up and excused himself from the table. However the brothers just assumed he wasn’t feeling well and went back to eating.

For a while Alfred warily glances at the doorway until Bruce cracks and tells Alfred, “Go ahead. Make sure he’s ok.” Alfred immediately dropped his tray on the table and hastily runs to find Richard. Bruce than calmly tells the three to listen to him as he explains that Dick was actually very depressed since the break up and just put up a hard front. Saying how Wally basically kicked him out and Dick was almost to the point of suicidal but didn’t want to worry his brothers. They instantly feel awful, mainly Damian who suddenly felt as though his opinion of West wasn’t important. Damian and Jason then threaten to kill Wally to which Bruce immediately denies claiming even if it didn’t go against their code Dick would never forgive him.

“Why would Grayson care about the filth that broke him. If anything he would thank us.” Damian was cut off when Bruce pulled out a laptop and it played the feed of the eldest brothers room. Who was sat atthe edge of the bed sobbing into Alfreds chest.

“Go-God I miss him!” He clinched on Alfred’s shirt who at this point could care less about it getting messy.

“Master Richard maybe you should just talk to him and see if there is any way you could try again.” All three watching suddenly stood up leaning closer to the laptop in pure interest.

“NO! He said he couldn’t take my recklessness anymore and it would be better for his health not to worry 24/7! I DO THAT TO HIM!! I’m such an idiot of course I can’t take him back! Even if he wants to I’m not going to ever change that part of me! I can’t... I can’t do that to him!” Dick suddenly let out a loud cry and crushed Alfred into his strongest hold. “I can’t do that too him because I love him!” All three watching from the motitor gape at seeing their brother at this state. He’s never been so distraught over something. They all then remember everything they said and felt a pang or guilt flow through them all.

2 days later the bell rings and Dick happily says he gets it, still keeping his wall up around his brothers as he doesn’t know they know yet. Of course all the jokes and critique of the ebony’s ex have been limited to none.“Well Master Richard take my job why don’t you.” Dick grins and opens the door only to see the guilty smile of a certain red-headed speedster. Dick’s eyes widen and his smile falls instantly, unable to say anything he just stares.

“Hey Dickie. Can we talk?” Suddenly Dick falls into a panic attack gripping his head tightly mumbling, “It’s all my fault,” over and over again. He slowly steps back, stumbling over his steps. He can barely see the blurred out fave of a very worried speedster. Suddenly he falls into the arms of a strong, taller build. Jason. Damian starred at his brother who was clinging to Jason and still mumbling incoherent words. Seeing the only brother he formed a true bond with panic like that broke something inside him. He slowly turned towards the speedster and leaped at him, only stopped by a hand at the back of his shirt.

“Damian stop. Bruce isn’t home to deal with you right now and you should worry less about Wally and more about Dick.” Tim sighed in annoyance at the glare he received as Damian calmed down. Tim then gestured for Jason and Damian to move Dick to the couch to calm down. Afterwards, he turned to Wally and explains his brothers mental state. Tim could see Wally sink in the news and could feel the guilt weighing him down. “Dick’s probably calmed by now. He said something along the lines of he won’t date you again because he can’t put you through any more worrying. I’d say you have your work cut out for you to convince him to take you back.” Wally’s eyes widen and he stares at the younger boy.

“Why would you help me when I did that to him.” Tim sighed and looked up at Wally. He really looked unhealthy. Wally’s hair was messier than normal, his eyes were red with dark circles around him. It seemed he put enough effort in his outfit that it matched.

“I’m not saying I approve. I’m saying he really likes you and is very happy with you. But if you mess up again I will not hold Damian or Jason back.” Wally visibly tensed and he nodded. Moving towards the couch. The three brothers watched from the doorway.

First Dick looked really dead and just wouldn’t even glance at Wally. Wally had a supportive hand on Dick’s thigh as he talked to him in a hushed tone. Suddenly something seemed to register to Dick as he stood up and started yelling at Wally. They heard him say that Wally couldn’t just forgive him and he should just leave. Wally’s just giving him false hope when Dick just didn’t want to hurt him anymore. Wally than stood up too and put his hands dircectly on his shoulders saying, “Dick listen. I regret ever word I said. I care about you and you can’t decide what’s best for me. I love you. All of you. Your recklessness is something I love the most. I’m just scared babe. Scared you’re not going to come back one day. But I’m begging you let me spend the rest of my life with you. Let me... let me fight by your side as long as I can. Please Dick I can’t stay away from you.” Dick smiled and they both leaned in.

Dick moved out the next day and back with Wally. He visited his brothers more and even thanked Tim for not scaring Wally off. Damian comes over often claiming he needs to be “watched” but truth be told he just wants to spend as much time as he can with his favorite brother. Wally even started growing to like the demons presence. Saying it’s one step closer to kids.

They stay together for as long as they can. Getting in small, healthy fights and getting l married and having a wonderful life. Eventually retiring.

SOMEONE WRITE THIS STORY BUT MAKE IT LIKE DRAWN OUT AND ACTUALLY GOOD PLEASE I’M BAD AT WRITING BUT THIS WAS JUST A GENERAL IDEA I HAD

#birdflash #dick grayson #flash #kidflash #nightwing #robin #wally west #batfam #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #bat family #robins

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jada-b · 4 years

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Warning: this is a very long rant about cw shows and it gets off topic a little bit,I'm very sorry about this.

I hope stargirl would show more stuff with green arrow and speedy, and hopefully introduce them in the show.

I mean, I know arrow both characters were in arrow, but the show just finished and I felt like it didn’t really do justice to both characters, alongside other characters like black canary and mister Terrfic. The frist 4 seasons were good, but I kinda felt like it was getting boring and the writing for the show was blah, so I ended up stop watching it (I mean, I only keep track of the show threw tumblr post and what shows up on my feed). The main things that made me stop watching it was the pushing olicty ship to much, alongside killing off laurel (which in my opinion the writers didn’t seem to care for), alongside making green arrow seem a little to bit like Batman. I mean in the comics he is serious, but he is also charasmatic, humorous and charming.

I mean I know tv writers don’t have to follow the comics, but I feel like most things, you should do. I wouldn’t mind olicity if it only happened 1 or 2 seasons and oliver getting together with laurel at the end.but it was getting kinda pushy, and felicity wasn’t a really good character(I’m pretty sure she would’ve been if the writers put more effort on her).

It’s sorta same with the flash. I didn’t mind iris being a woman of color, but she’s kinda plain, and I kinda find it weird that they decided to make joe adopt barry, meaning the two were kinda siblings.

And they didn't really do Wally west justice. I mean it's not really surprising, since DC in general doesn't really know what to do with the character and it's obivous they love Barry over him and the other speedsters.

And I didn't like supergirl at all. I did try to watch every episode, and the only thing I like was the ship supercorps, and the newest outfit they have for the character. Im not really sure what there trying to do with supergirl currently, but when I did try to watch the show, I felt like there trying to make her into Superman (manly with being an reporter, and having Jimmy Olsen with her)and like mic of the fandom for supergirl, I didntike mon-el being paired up with her.

And I didn't really like her original story in the show. I would've changed it a little bit, and maybe made her supergirl for a few years and maybe decided to let her move to national City to stop living in supetmans shadow.

Legends of tommorow was alright, but I didnt really get into it that much. I felt like it kinda went down after three seasons and almost half the original cast had left the show.

And for know, stargirl and black lighting bare my two favorite for the cwverse, and I don't really have any complaints towards those shows. I just hope that if green arrow and speedy (or if they decided to make Roy haprer to arsenal or red arrow) appear in up coming episodes, I hope they do justice on the characters, and hopefully mister terrific (since he was part of the JSA in the 90-2000s comic) and do justice for him too.

#rant #cw #cwverse #stargirl #arrow #green arrow #speedy #roy harper #oliver queen #olicty #the flash #supergirl #legends of tomorrow #black lighting

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schweeeppess · 5 years

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Smile!

a/n: Dick and Dami week day 2's prompt was paparazzi. I hope you guys enjoy :3

Dick laughed, walking with Wally to his place as he dramatically retold a story, cup of coffee in hand and shades hiding his eyes.

“Uh, Dick?” Wally paused in his storytelling, squinting at something behind Dick.

“Yeah?”

“We've got company.”

Tensing, Dick very pointedly did not let the smile on his face drop, and did not turn to look behind him. Instead he grabbed Wally's arm, tugging on it once.

“What kind?” he hissed through his tight grin.

Wally waved a hand in the air, getting Dick's cues and laughing like Dick had said a joke. “The creepy stalker Tim kind,” he answered after the fake laughter.

“Oh my God,” Dick groaned, hiding his face in his unoccupied hand. “That's the fifth time this week, and it's not even Wednesday yet.”

His best friend genuinely laughed then, and Dick grabbed his arm and speed-walked to try and lose the paparazzi.

“And I hate that I got what you meant when you called them the creepy stalker Tim kind.”

“Is it not accurate?!”

“Wait ‘til I tell Tim.”

“Wait for me to tell him you got it.”

...

Damian sighed lying on the grass of the Manor's vast yard with Titus and Jon. Titus was dozing to Damian's left, and he pet his dog distractedly as he spoke with his teammate.

“We're friends, Damian!” Jon insisted, sitting up and looking at Damian.

Rolling his eyes, Damian tutted. “We are not.”

“Am I really that unlikable?” Jon whined, flopping back on the grass.

Damian sighed, closing his eyes. “No,” he gritted out. “You are an acceptable companion, Jon.”

“So we're friends then.”

“We are teammates.”

“I'm taking that as a yes.”

Only a few beats of silence lasted before Jon spoke again, and Damian was tempted to sigh once more.

“Hey, Damian?”

“What?”

“Who's that?”

Sitting up, Damian looked around. “Who?”

Jon straightened and pointed toward the bushes around the fence of the Wayne estate.

In an effort to make out what his friend was talking about, Damian squinted, leaning forward a bit.

A glint caught his eye and Damian hissed, jolting to his feet.

“Nosy undesired stalkers,” Damian answered. Turning sharply, Damian started back for the manor, Titus at his heels. “Come, Jon. I believe Pennyworth should have snacks prepared.”

“Your butler is the best! Can I borrow him?”

“No.”

...

“You know,” Dick said, flopping backwards on the couch in Bruce's study. “Sometimes I wish you weren't rich and famous.”

Bruce raised a brow and looked up from the papers he was working on. Dick was staring at the ceiling, so he couldn't catch his son's eye, but he still looked over nonetheless.

“Why do you say that?”

As Dick opened his mouth to respond, Damian threw the door open, a greatly displeased air around him.

Sighing a little, Bruce looked over at Damian and asked, “Yes?”

“Father, I demand you file restraining orders against the photographers that continue to interrupt my day anywhere I go. They hover around my school!” he hissed, tossing his book bag at the couch and hitting Dick in the gut with it.

At Dick's low “Oof,” Damian looked over at him and raised a brow.

Bruce's own were furrowed and he asked, “What were you going to say, Dick?”

“Well, actually, it was something along the lines of what Damian said. I wasn't going to ask you to get restraining orders, though,” he answered as he sat up. He smiled at his little brother. “Hey, Dami.”

Damian nodded. “Grayson.”

Bruce frowned. “I'll see what I can do, boys.”

“Thank you, father.” With that, Damian was walking out of the study for his room, presumably to change out of his uniform if Bruce knew his son well enough.

Dick smiled. “Thanks, B.” He hugged Damian's bag close, resting his chin on it, and said, “So. What're you working on.”

Bruce shook his head, a smile twitching at his lips. Looking back at his work, he humored his eldest by informing him on the newest developments in the company.

...

“This is ridiculous, Richard. You look like an old man.”

“I used to do this with Jason when he was a kid!”

“I fail to see how that argument helps. Todd is a nonsensical fool, I am not.”

“That's mean, Dami, and I don't think you're giving him enough credit, but we're not discussing that right now: Just put the wig on!”

Damian's glare intensified, and he narrowed his eyes. “You have yet to explain your reasoning for this,” he said.

Dick rolled his eyes and shoved the blond wig at Damian along with the baggy clothes and shades, wearing a grey wig, fake moustache, and oversized clothes himself.

“To dodge the paparazzi, Damian.”

Damian opened his mouth, light pink dusting his cheeks and ears as he closed it and accepted the clothing and wig.

“Fine,” he muttered, entering the bathroom and emerging minutes later with everything on.

“Whose clothes am I wearing?” Damian sniffed, looking down at them.

“Oh, that's just stuff I found in the guest room,” Dick answered dismissively. “I raided Jason's closet for my clothes.”

Damian gave Dick the most unimpressed look, adn Dick grinned.

“You look adorable, by the way.”

His little brother flushed, scowling. “Tt. Are we going to watch a movie or not, Grayson?”

Dick laughed, hugging Damian quickly before leaving to find an inconspicuous car.

As Damian walked with him he asked, “You did this with Todd, when he was younger?”

“Oh yeah, whenever I visited. We'd dress up and see who could make the worse outfit.” Dick smiled thinking back on it. “I won almost every time, but we'd go out and do fun normal stuff. Go to the arcade, get ice cream, watch a movie…”

Damian nodded, but noticed Dick's smile start to slip. He frowned. “Grayson?”

“I… We didn't do it much, actually. I was still angry with Bruce, and, really, I only got close to Jason a few months before he… died.”

Damian didn't like the pained look on Richard's face so he said, “You can make up for lost time now that he has returned. Stop being sad, we are going to watch a movie and eat popcorn, and I look abhorrent.” He again looked down at his clothes. “Who makes clothes look baggy on purpose?”

Dick laughed a bit. “People who like it,” he answered. “And you're right, Damian. Thank you.”

“When am I not?”

Dick just laughed again, and Damian smiled a little himself, though he'd deny it until his dying breath.

#my writing #my work #my fanficiton #dickanddamiweek2019 #Wally West #Jon Kent #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #mmmhn #i hope it didnt suck :D

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sophisticatedloserchick · 5 years

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Fanfic - Drunken Misunderstandings - 1/1

Summary: At a friend’s party Iris gets so drunk she forgets Barry is her husband and misunderstandings ensue.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4011

A/N: Sooooo I had this in my drafts for about two years. Its been so long I’ve forgotten who originally sent me the prompt. If you’re still around here’s the fic you wanted

Iris woke up in an unknown room with a pounding headache. She squinted painfully at the bright yellow sunlight that came through the windows. The night before came back to her in a blurry mess. The last thing she remembered was arriving to celebrate Linda's birthday party but after that nothing came to her clearly.

Obviously she partied a little too hard judging by the massive hangover she had.

Vaguely she wondered where Barry was. Even if he did leave early for Flash business he would always came back to take her home. Only ever so often did he pull all nighters where he ended up crashing at Star Labs.

Slowly Iris got out of bed. She needed to pause several times as the room kept tilting on its axis. She waited even longer to fight off the wave of nausea that took over. Silently Iris chided to herself that as a grown married woman she really should be better than this.

With great effort she stumbled out of the room then down the hall to the kitchen. There she found Linda looking effortlessly put together freshly showered in her pink silk robe and hair pinned up. Her skin glowing and she didn't even have bags under her eyes Iris thought resentfully. How Linda managed to look this good after a night of drinking was a superpower Iris envied.

“Morning sunshine,” Linda said with a bright smile. “There's a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you.”

Iris perked up considerably at the promise of getting caffeine into her system.

“Do you know what happened to Barry?” Iris asked as she poured herself a cup. “Did he leave on Flash business?”

“No not really,” Linda said lips twisting up in amusement.

“Then why didn't he take me home?” Iris huffed out.

“Well...you didn't exactly want to go home with him last night.” Linda chuckled which only made Iris more confused.

“Did we fight?” Iris tried in vain to remember what happened last night. “I can't remember anything.”

“You were very, very drunk.” Linda supplied. “I'm not surprised you don't remember.”

“I'm afraid to ask what happened,” Iris started to worry now.

“To start...you were hitting on him,” Linda said.

“Oh. Is that all?” Iris sighed in relief. “That's not too bad. Barry's my husband. I'm allowed to hit on him.”

“That's not exactly how it happened...” Linda smiled knowingly before taking another sip of coffee.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Barry sipped at his beer, not feeling any of its effects of course, watching his friends and family let loose. Linda certainly knew how to throw a party especially a birthday party for herself. After months of crime fighting and battling big bads it was good to see everyone having fun. Even if he did have the unfortunate luck of being the only sober one here.

Barry glanced around the room in search of Iris. He hadn't seen her for over a half an hour when Linda stole Iris away to play a game of Beer Pong. Not that Iris needed him to watch over her but he couldn't help but worry when she was out of sight.

His concerns were answered by a sharp tug at his sleeve.

He turned around to come face to face with his wife. A smile broke out across his face at the sight of her. A reaction he couldn't help but have whenever he was near Iris.

His happiness quickly turned to amusement the more he took her in.

Iris seemed to be struggling with the simple task of standing upright. Her body teetering under the effects of the alcohol she'd been consuming since they arrived. Her dark eyes that looked up at him were brighter than normal and a little unfocused. The brown skin of her cheeks flushed a darker color. All signs pointed towards that Iris had moved past being buzzed to completely drunk.

Not since college had Barry seen Iris this intoxicated when she had gone out drinking with her sorority sisters then drunk dialed him at two in the morning to pick her up. Barry then spent the next few hours holding back her hair as she heaved up the contents of her stomach. Since college Iris monitored her drinking. Never having more than one glass of champagne at a social event and limiting herself to two glasses of wine at home after work.

Her decade long stretch of 'careful drinking' had apparently been broken tonight.

“Hi there,” Iris fluttered her eyelashes as she gazed up at him.

“Um hi?” Barry smiled down at her. “You feeling okay?”

“You're really cute,” Iris appraised him with dark but unfocused eyes. “Have we ever met before?”

Barry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Sometimes Iris would play the 'hey there stranger you're cute' game but usually she'd drop the act fast in favor of getting straight to the point of kissing him. Iris had no patience playing coy when she could be making out with him instead. But with her being this drunk made it much harder to tell how serious she was.

The best way to find out Barry figured was to play along.

“I don't think so,” Barry leaned his long body in closer to her. “I'd remember a beautiful girl like you.”

Iris let out a sweet giggle before shyly ducking her head away. Barry couldn't help but fall for her all over again. Not for the first time Barry thought she was the cutest person he'd ever seen. He practically melted when her fingers coyly played with the ends of her hair as she bit down on her lower lip.

“Well we should get to know each other better then,” Iris said with a teasing lilt to her voice.

She took a step forward closer only to trip on her own feet.

Without thinking Barry reflectively reached out to catch her. His hands wrapping around her forearms to steady wobbly legs.

“Wow,” Iris said in wonder with big eyes. “You are super strong.”

Barry felt heat rise in his cheeks at the compliment.

“I bet,” Iris said in a breathy voice. “You could bench press me.”

Barry didn't know why that sounded incredibly suggestive to him.

“Uh thanks?” He said awkwardly.

He was about to find a place to sit them both down when Iris practically melted into him leaving Barry no choice but to wrap an arm around her waist to hold her up.

“I like strong men,” Iris's fingers idly ran up and down his chest leaving a trail of electric shocks through him.

Barry found himself falling under her spell. Her soft body pressed up against him and the smell of her lavender soap made his thoughts all foggy. His hand that rest on the small of her back could feel the heat of her skin. His eyes traced the way her silk dress wrapped around her generous curves.

“Hey can I ask you a question,” Iris said while flicking her hair over her shoulder to expose the long length of her neck.

“Yeah sure,”Barry swallowed thickly.

His knees were going weak every time he saw the dark promise in her eyes. She kept biting down on her full lower lip making him want to kiss her senseless.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Iris said in a hushed voice as if they were sharing secrets.

Barry arched his eyebrow at that but decided to keep playing along with this game.

“Well actually,” Barry reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I have a very beautiful, very talented wife who I love very much.”

What happened next was a reaction Barry would have never anticipated.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I started to cry?” Iris asked incredulously.

“Yes you did,” Linda said while munching on cream cheese smeared bagel. “Not even just a couple tears. We're talking about heaving loud sobs.”

“That doesn't make any sense,” Iris frowned in confusion. “I know I was drunk but....there's just no reason for me to cry.”

“You were upset because you thought Barry was married to someone else,” Linda shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently you also get memory loss when drunk along with being extra dramatic.”

“Oh god,” Iris dropped her eyes down to stare at her coffee in mortification.

“Don't worry about it,” Linda laughed . “We've all had our embarrassing drunk moments. I often wake up next to mine in bed. A little crying is nothing.”

“Did no one notice?” Iris asked hopefully.

“Well...” Linda trailed off.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Geeze Barry what did you do to her?” Cisco asked.

Barry stared hopelessly up at Cisco and Wally and Linda who had come over once Iris started to cry. The rest of the party goers were glancing over and exchanging hushed whispers at the scene.

Iris was currently sitting on the floor, face buried in her hands as she cried. Barry had crouched down to comfort her but no amount of consoling seemed to help.

“I didn't do anything,” Barry flailed for an answer. “I thought we were joking. I didn't meant to upset her.”

“Did you criticize her outfit?” Wally offered up.

“No of course not,” Barry replied affronted.

Not that he ever would say a bad word about the clothes she wore but on this particular night Iris looked amazing in a emerald green dress.

“Did you tell her that you don't like her cooking?” Linda pressed.

“What? No!” Barry looked at Linda like she was crazy. “She's just confused. She thinks I'm married to someone else.”

Wally, Cisco and Linda gave him looks that said they weren't convinced that could be true.

Barry ignored them and turned back to Iris when her cries turned to a mix between hiccups and coughs. Her shoulders still shaking with her face hidden behind her hands.

“Iris?” Barry tentatively reached out with his hand to touch her.

He immediately pulled back when Iris jerked away from him.

“Iris please,” Barry said with desperation. “I thought we were joking around.”

“Its not funny,” Iris dropped her hands away showing her red eyes from crying. “To play with a girl's heart like that. If you were taken you should of said so in the beginning.”

Barry sighed while Cisco and Wally behind him snickered in amusement.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I'm never drinking again,” Iris groaned out from where her face was buried in his hands.

“Oh don't be dramatic,” Linda said from the sink where she was washing the coffee cups.

“How can I face Barry?” Iris sighed out.

“Well you better figured it out,” Linda glanced at the clock. “Barry said he'd be stopping by at ten.”

“What!?” Iris's head popped up. “Why didn't you tell me that before?”

Iris's mind raced cataloging how badly she looked in this moment. Her hair wasn't properly wrapped last night leaving it a tangled mess. Dark circles were under her eyes. Her dress from last night wrinkled from her sleeping in it all night.

“Didn't I?” Linda gave a sneaky smile.

Before Iris could call out her friend a knock came at the front door.

“Of course he's on time,” Iris grumbled. “He's never late when I need him to be.”

Linda cackled as she left to go answer the door.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Barry watched helplessly as Linda picked Iris off the floor who continued to sniffle. Normally he'd pull his wife into his arms to hold and comfort her whenever she was upset but he didn't know what to do when he was the cause of her distress even though not from his own doing. No one ever told him what you should do when your wife drinks so much she forgets you're married.

“Can I help?” Barry watched Linda struggle to hold Iris upright. “I can carry her to your guest room to sleep it off.”

Barry reached out to grab Iris's arm to steady her but she sent him a death glare that had him keeping his hands to himself.

“Ehhh don't think that's a great idea,” Linda sent him an apologetic look. “We don't want her to get all upset again. No offense.”

In the end Wally ended up carrying his inebriated sister to Linda's guest room while Barry watched with concerned eyes, shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Cheer up,” Linda slapped Barry hard on the shoulder to get his attention. “You should be doing cartwheels after tonight.”

“My wife is crying because she thinks I'm married to someone else,” Barry grimaced at the not to long ago memory. “Why would that be a positive thing?”

“Even with memory loss she still thought you were the hottest guy here,” Linda smirked at him. “Don't pretend like that doesn't stroke your ego a little.”

Barry went red in embarrassment because he couldn't deny that thought had come to mind.

“Now I know you'd rather your wife stroke you tonight but beggars can't be chooses,” Linda laughed as Barry went even redder and balked at her. “Come back tomorrow with flowers and I'm sure all will be well.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Iris stood up from the kitchen chair. She smoothed down her very wrinkled dress she slept in. Her hands patting down her messy hair. For some strange reason her stomach was a jumbled mess of nerves.

Seconds later Barry walked through holding out a bouquet of sunflowers for her. Linda thankfully was nowhere to be found. The last thing Iris needed was for her best friend to witness this embarrassing moment.

“Oh Barry,” Iris smiled a little bashfully when he handed her the flowers. “You really didn't have to. Not after how I behaved last night.”

“Nothing is too good for my wife,” Barry stoops down to press a soft kiss to her cheek. Iris had hoped that would be it but when Barry he pulled back there's an expression of mock seriousness on his face. “You do remember I'm your husband right? We never did figure out if you'd sustained permanent memory loss or not.”

Iris scowled at his teasing but couldn't hold it for too long with the way he's smiling at her.

“Yes I remember,” Iris put the bouquet down to stand up to loop her arms around Barry's shoulders. His hands sliding easily around her waist as she went on her tip toes to press a kiss to his lips. A soft sigh escaping Iris as their lips moved perfectly together. Iris let out a pleased hum as the kiss deepened when Barry pulled her in closer to him. Suddenly the painful hangover disappeared under Barry's touch.

“Sorry about last night,” Iris murmured against his lips. “I can't believe I forgot about you, about us being together.”

“Its okay. Not like I haven't lost my memory before either.” Barry stole another kiss from her. “Besides nice to know you think I'm the hottest guy in the room. So hot that you'd cry if you couldn't be with me.”

Iris rolled her eyes at his smug expression.

“Don't get too cocky Mr. Allen,” Iris grabbed his collar to pull him down to her level. “Don't think I don't know that you wouldn't cry too if you thought I was married to someone who wasn't you.”

“Nah wouldn't cry,” Barry grinned back at her. “I'd simply seduce you away.”

“Oh yeah?” Iris lifted an eyebrow up in question. “And how would you accomplish that?”

“Let me take you home and I'll show you,” Barry smirked.

Before Iris could get in another word Barry gathered her up in his arms to speed the two of them back home.

#westallen #iris west allen #barry allen #fanfic #sophisticatedloserchickwrites

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fireandgloryrpg · 6 years

Text

Unity Feast || Group Chatzy

Roman’s and Greeks gather together to celebrate their unity. Piper loses her purse and the night has a dramatic ending.

Percy had lived in New Rome for most of his adult life and he had yet to see it in such a beautiful condition. He didn’t know who was responsible for it, but the progress in the cities reconstruction was astounding. Where they hadn’t completed work, delicate decorations such as fairy lights or neon signs had soften the atmosphere around the square where the festivities were taking place. Striding through the crowds of people, he greeted friends left and right. He was wearing one of the few pieces of his wardrobe that he’d managed to salvage after he’d returned to his apartment at the war’s end. A dark navy blue suit with a light pink shirt and blue tie. Brown belt and brown shoes of course. Heading towards the bar, he ordered a drink. This was going to be a good night, at least that was what he hoped.

Wally had left after Z. The pair decided to meet each other at the feast separately. Wally came in a dark purple tux with a dark tie to match. He had added a laurel wreath to his head for the evening, something he felt was a nice addition. Wally was openly nervous, looking around every few minutes, waiting for something to pop up. It felt like nothing could be enjoyed anymore. The smell of food was quick to reduce his fears. Maybe if he ate something he’d feel better. As trays of food passed around, Wally picked up what seemed to be a fried ball of filled with stuffing and mashed potatoes. “Holy shit, has anyone else tried this?!” Wally snuck a few more of the things off a tray and made his way over to the bar to order a drink. He smiled when he saw Percy down a few seats. “Hey! You look good, man.”

As a general rule, Abigail was not a party person. Partially because bumping into other people was inevitable, partially because talking to other people was inevitable, partially because it meant getting all dressed up when she’d much prefer to lounge around in her couch, braless, hair tied up in a bun, wearing an oversized shirt covered in Cheeto dust and with her cat, Shelley, curled up on her lap. Counterpoint: she liked drinking, dancing and eating fancy snacks. So this was kind of a conundrum. In the end, she solved it by giving into peer pressure and going to the friggin’ party. Wearing a full-length light blue gown (with full sleeves and gloves, of course) and with her hair in a neat braid, Abigail was thoroughly enjoying the open bar, ordering the drinks that looked the fanciest and the wackiest. Later, once her legs had rested from the walk over, maybe she’d dance.

Noticing the two children of Hecate that had arrived around him, Percy finished his drink order. “Hey Wally,” he said as he finished ordering a pint of beer, turning to look at Abby and then leaning back and engaging both his friends, “you and Abby definitely know each other right?” he asked with a gentle smile. He’d known both Wally and Abby separately. Both of them were children of Hecate and though he’d spent time in New Rome and Camp Half Blood with them separately, this might’ve been the first time that he’d seen them together. “Is it too early to start really drinking? I’ve been considering when the appropriate time to start doing shots would be.”

While Jason wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of overly formal events, he couldn’t deny that he looked pretty good when he attended them. Anxiously smoothing down the front of his dark gray jacket and adjusting his dark red tie he strode purposefully into the half-finished Senate house, marveling at the beauty of the edifice. As he turned slowly to take in everything around him he caught a familiar bearded face from across the room, and wandered over to his best friend, snagging two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray as he did. “It might be too early for shots. However I think you’re in the clear for some bubbly.” He squeezed Percy’s arm and nodded to the people he was talking to, brushing his hair out of his face. “Evening. You both look lovely.”

While Percy was all fussy about when was the right time to start drinking, Abigail was on her third tequila shot. “Uh. Wally? Never heard of him. Sounds like he got jealous of my nickname, though”, she said, deadpan, before licking off the salt from the back of her hand and downing her shot like a pro. “Evening, Jason. Thank you, I always do. You two look nice, too.” Unable to help herself, she added, teasingly: “For guys, I guess.”

Annabeth had never been one for much dressing up, and she much preferred her shorts and t shirts, but in the spirit of the Unity Feast she was now sporting a long blue gown. Praying to all the gods that she didn’t trip over it somehow in the course of the evening, she headed over to where a cluster of her friends stood. “ Hey, what’d I miss? ”

Wally nodded. “Yes we know each other, sadly.” He smiled at Abigail and thanked the bartender when his drink arrived. “I think we all look pretty sexy, myself included, of course.” When Annabeth came over, he shrugged. “Nothing yet. We’re getting drinks, but it seems Percy is apprehensive. But my guess is: put something blue in front of him and he’ll drink it, no matter what.” Wally took a look around and showed his plate of kind-of-stolen delicacies to the small group. “You guys gotta try these. There is mash potatoes and stuffing mixed in. It’s like . . . I don’t know. It’s the kinda stuff the gods hoard away from us.”

Turning, Percy accepted the glass of champagne off of his best friend and took his place besides Jason. Smiling graciously, he shrugged. “I want to be clear, I’m not the type of person to shy away from a good drink. I definitely don’t think that I’m the type of person to turn down a shot, I was simply musing as to whether or not it was worth considering if there was an appropriate time for shots. Four for shots perhaps?” he smiled gently and looked to Annabeth, winking gently at his friend before taking a sip from his champagne flute as the music filtered through the evening air. The sound of violins singing in the background.

“I never really associated this outfit with pounding shots at the bar,” Jason laughed, straightening his tie and vest, but if we’re lining up at the rail, I’ll do my duty and uphold my collegiate honor.” As Annabeth joined their group he gave her a small wave, sipping from his flute. The entire scene was a little surreal, but he didn’t all together hate it. They had earned this party, with blood sweat and tears and hopefully it would give them all a chance to heal some of the ugly wounds the war had opened. “I hope there are more than canapés at this thing or we’re going to be drunk in a corner in the first five minutes.”

Connor took his time arriving at the party. Sure, he enjoyed them, and all the things that came with parties, such as food and alcohol and pickpocketing, but he just wanted to take it slow tonight. Walking through the crowd, he wore a white button up shirt with floral patterns on, half buttoned down, along with navy pants and matching brown shoes and a belt. Flashing flirty grins at most people he passed, his eyes fell upon his friends at the bar. “I see we’re forming a sub-party over here, is it invite only?” He joked before ordering himself a whiskey and lemonade. “Glad to see we all turned up, everyone looks stunning.” His eyes flickered over everyone before finally landing on his drink. Tonight would have been great, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was terribly missing someone.

Marcus leant against a building on the outside of the square, tapping his ring against his glass. His eyes gently scanned through the crowd making mental notes of everyone he knew. So far, he hadn’t noticed anyone who caught his particular attention, other than a couple of greeks that had started to gather at the bar. Sighing he pushed himself off the wall and moved towards the centre of the square, slipping past people with ease. A smile tugged at the edge of his lips as he spotted his co-centurion and began to move towards her. “Cat, imagine seeing you here.” He joked.

It was strange to think that once upon a time Marcus had been Cat’s subordinate, but now they were partners in leading what was essentially her life’s work. Marcus had been the most suitable choice after Jax had left, however without him here, now, it felt strange. “Marcus,” she drawled, raising a glass of red wine to her equally crimson lips, “a pleasure as always to see you here.” Wearing a sleek black silk dress, Cat reached up and played with the black diamond she wore around her neck. Absently taking everything in. “It has truly turned out well, morale should benefit from the extravagance, don’t you think?”

Brock had been there since before the event started. He offered to act as guard but his higher-ups still felt he was a bit too off balance to be working. They believed it would be better for him to enjoy the event, as if he could. The entire feast, while he was happy to see Romans having a good time, it felt like a joke. Seeing Marcus and Cat, Brock got into stepping. Seeing familiar faces, ones incredibly friendly took a weight off of Brock he hadn’t been aware of before. “Marcus, Cat, how’re you both? You both look nice.” His eyes strayed from Cat but he kept an even smile. Brock had come in a suit lent to him by his friend, tailored of course. A dark green suit with a thin belt around his waist, similar to those of the strings tied around a tunic.

In her defence, Piper hadn’t meant to get so tipsy. She’d only meant to stay for a little while, have a couple of drinks, and then go home. But that wasn’t what happened. She was on her second drink by now, a complete and utter lightweight, swaying in time to the music as she swallowed the sweet taste of cranberry-vodka down her throat. She hadn’t put much effort into her appearance tonight, wearing a tight red dress and pair of heels. She looked great, however, but didn’t feel on her A-game. Nonetheless, she wanted to see everyone. Following after Connor, she said, “Hey, has anyone seen my purse? Pretty — pretty sure I left it somewhere. Don’t know where, but it’s got to be here somewhere.” Even when tipsy, she could talk eloquently.

Eyeing the drinks available, Annabeth was torn between making a conscious decision to stay sober, or throw caution to the wind, because let’s face it, they all deserved a night to get shitfaced after everything that had gone on. “ Cheers to the night? ” She lifted her own glass at the group, raising her eyebrow as Conner and Piper joined them. “ I haven’t, but I could go with you to take a look around if you’d like? ” She offered, noting the slightly slurring girl. There was a voice in the back of her mind telling her that if the beginning of the night was any indication, it might be safer for there to be at least one sober person. God knows what might happen when you mixed a bunch of demigods and legacies who had still unresolved tension and alcohol.

Despite everything that had happened in the last few months, Percy found himself relaxing and enjoying himself. Swallowing a few mouthfuls of champagne, he glanced between Annabeth and Piper wondering whether Piper had even brought a purse with her, “I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Percy replied with a smile as he reached for several more glasses of champagne and passed them around the group, ensuring that anyone who didn’t already have a drink was well provided for. “If I can just take a moment, I’d like to toast us all, Roman and Greek alike, we’ve been through so much and we’ve come out stronger. So a toast to the years to come, with all the friends we’ve made along the way.” He raised his glass towards the small group they’d formed by the bar. Completely oblivious of all the people they were blocking from gaining access to said bar, but in that moment they couldn’t care less.

Despite his love for these events, Aidan was nervous with how things would go. If he’d know anyone there, if he’d be dressed well enough. He fidgeted with his outfit in the storefront windows as he made his way down, feeling over the soft pink lace sewn over his creamy white jacket. Matching pants, and rose gold cufflinks. He stared at the lights of the party before entering, putting on his best smile. His anxiety washed away seeing people he knew. “Hope I’m not too late to join in?” He asked, picking up a glass of his own, knowing to be mindful of how much he had, eyeing Cat. Aidan wasn’t about to embarrass himself further. Everything felt surreal. Calm. Okay for the first time and Aidan felt good about the night. About the future a little bit too.

Jason raised his glass as Percy launched into a toast, nodding along to his friend’s words. “Here here. To the friendships we’ve made along the way and to the peace we now work to construct. May they both last an eternity.” He downed his glass and passed it off to a passing waiter before snagging another full one. He was more than his usual amount of awkward; given that this was the first event he’d been to where he didn’t have a title and job to hide behind, but he was bound and determined to make it work. Which meant acknowledging the presence of the bitch in the black dress across the circle from him. “Ms Karavadra.” He half bowed “you look lovely this evening. Hopefully you’ll save a dance for me later, provided your dance card isn’t already full.”

By the time Abigail came back, she was still a little tipsy and her feet -- foot, her foot hurt. She slid delicately onto the stool, propped her elbows up onto the bar. Her cheeks were flushed with the exercise, her hair only slightly out of place. “I missed the toast?” she asked, then ordered a side of French fries, one of her few guilty pleasures. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Karavadra, promptly deciding to ignore her. It had always been obvious how Karavadra felt about the Greeks, so Abigail felt no obligation to go out of her way to be nice.

Honestly, as Cat, Brock and Marcus made their way past the group of merrymakers toasting and loudly talking about shots, food and the food time that they were having. Cat’s emotional mask slid into place as she gave Jason the most beautiful smile that she could muster. “You look positively ravishing yourself, that suit really brings out your eyes.” She smiled kindly at him as she continued gliding past. “I shall endeavour to save you a dance,” she gestured to Marcus and Brock as if to indicate that she was already inundated with potential prospects, “but as I am sure that you can see Mr. Grace, my dance card is filling up fast, so make sure you get in while stocks last.” She gave him one final sickly sweet smile, a mischievous glitter in her eyes as she imagined what disembowelment would be like for him. She hoped painful. His self righteous smug nature was almost sickening.

Cat had a way with people, she knew what to say and how to seem elegant and hide her true feelings. Marcus however, struggled with it despite his natural gift with the mist and his illusion spells. Instead, he opted to simply showing his true emotions, one of disinterest towards the group. He remembered all the Roman legionnaires they had lost through the war, not to mention their legionnaires on every other day too. He might have seemed old fashioned with his ways, but blood must have blood, just, not now. Leaving Cat’s side, he flashed a chaotic smile at Jason and then the others. “You don’t mind if a join you right? You did make a toast to Romans and Greeks alike, that includes me right?” A tone of mischievousness danced in between his words as he placed his empty glass on the table and ordering a new one, purposely leaning over and Greeks in the way.

“Oh, Zeus”, Abigail said under her breath. She didn’t mind the Romans’ company on grounds of them being Romans, but she didn’t like the atmosphere they’d brought with themselves. Growing up in a hostile environment, she could pick up on the slightest of signs of someone getting angry. Her magic probably had something to do with it, too. Always a hater of physical contact, but too stubborn (too fucked up) to display weakness, Abigail didn’t even twitch as Marcus leaned over her to get a new drink. Her plate of fries arrived, and she used a toothpick to stab at them, eyes flicking between Jason and the Romans.

Connor rolled his eyes as Cat showed up. He recalled their previous conversation and couldn’t help but feel a taste of disgust in his mouth. “Piper, I could also help you look for it if you like? I’d rather be anywhere but in the presence of her.” He felt like spitting her name out of his mouth but held himself back. Besides, it honestly wasn’t worth it. “I haven’t seen anyone steal it, perhaps you left it on a table and a waiter picked it up?” Connor had been drinking but he was sober enough to help look for a purse.

Wally turned himself around when Cat showed up. He prayed to his mom that she was passing by. If he never saw her again, he’d be fine. Wally poured back half of his drink and signaled the bartender. This would be more fun, and a lot easier to get through if he was a lot less sober. “Whiskey shot,” he chimed. Wally vaguely heard the daughter of Aphrodite talking about a missing purse. He knew somewhere in his room there was a locator spell, but that was all the way back in his apartment. ‘Sides, Connor’s already offered, he reasoned. Waiting for Z might just be his best option.

Brock grinned at the Greeks and caught the eye of Annabeth and Jason. Even before the war, after the Greeks had shown up, word of Annabeth’s skill in battle came around quickly. He had imagined a few times what it would be like to fight her, what he could learn from her. Jason on the other hand made him feel agitated and annoyed. It was aggravating to see an unfaithful Roman, but Jason wouldn’t allow himself to get too deep into thought on that. There was mystery on both sides and it was easier to just protect the civilians. “Cat, maybe we should go somewhere less rowdy? You wouldn’t want to get anything spilled on that dress.”

It wasn’t like Z to be so terribly late. He had always been the punctual sort, but times were changing and he had a bit of elephant business to take care of before making his way to the festivities. As he slipped past people with faces he knew and treated, he fiddled with the cuffs on his suit jacket. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had the prior inkling to get anything new tailored and his recent surplus of physical activity was making his clothes fit a little snug. It couldn’t be helped. “Oh; excuse me,” he politely exclaimed as he passed by a couple talking privately amongst themselves. His shorter stature easily snaked beyond them, only for him to come to a complete stop when he nearly bumped into Aidan. “Lace? To an event like this? You’re bolder than I thought you’d be.” The tease came easily as he reached over and wrapped his fingertips around a glass on a tray passing by. He eyed the contents warily. The last thing he wanted was alcohol, but this was clear. The squint he gave the glass was almost threatening.

Percy winced internally as the Romans moved over to the side of his group and Marcus made it clear that he was welcoming himself to the proverbial party. Reaching into a small bowl of olives, Percy chewed on a thick green one soaked in chilli oil and made sure that it was crushed into nothingness before he even considered opening his mouth. “Yeah can I get two shots of tequila with lime and salt,” he turned to a Jason whom he knew couldn’t stand Catherine Karavadra, especially after what he considered to be her wrongful arrest of former Praetor Reyna and Frank, “down the hatch bud,” he grimaced as the tequila poured down his throat. The tension in the room was near unbearable as Connor and Cat seemed to glower at one another from across the room. However Percy was determined to ease things off, he knew that the easiest way to do so was probably to break the group up. Turning to Piper and Annabeth, he looked at Jason and grinned. “Ladies?” he asked as Boogie Wonderland began to play in the background, “may we have this dance?”

Cat knew that she was the least popular Roman in miles, and considering the high density population of this square that was truly something to say. The Karavadra family hadn’t done itself any favours by funding and leading the war effort. But Cat knew deep in her stomach that she had done the right thing. She’d been protecting her city, protecting her people. “Yes, I think we should move along Brock, are you coming Marcus?” she asked as she strode away and moved towards Aidan and Z. “I agree, lace was certainly a very bold choice, however I am not convinced that Aidan’s got it in him to be anything less than bold, it has always been a trait that he has possessed.” Despite the fact that he’d previously drunk too much on a mission, she had to admit that the guts which that took was impressive to say the least, she didn’t know many Legionnaires that would survive an ordeal or even risk it.

Piper, ever the eloquent one, grinned at Annabeth, giving her an appreciative glance as she did so. About to accept the offer, she was interrupted by Percy. “I wouldn’t worry about it usually,” she replied. “But I’m pretty sure I left a few important items in - in the bag.” A hiccup sounded, soon followed by another giggle. She was about to say more — perhaps launch into a great speech herself — when Percy beat her to it. Honestly, his way of speaking was much better — and more eloquent — than hers was, so she let it slide, lifting her glass in the air and saying, “Hear, hear!” in response to what he had said. Then, noting Connor at her side, the young demigod latched onto him, curling an arm over his shoulders as she said, “The more help the merrier! I really, really need that bag. Seriously.” She’d already forgotten what she’d put in there, beside a pack of gum, but she was sure it was important. And whoever Connor (and Jason) were trying to avoid, Piper would happily help them do so. However, the thought of her bag was soon forgotten upon Percy’s invitation to dance, and with yet another grin in Jason and Percy’s direction (and with a slight stumble), she said, “I’d love to. Annabeth, what do you say?”

On the surface, this was the time for Greeks and Romans to make up, but as the daughter of a strategy goddess, or even someone with a smidge of common sense, Annabeth knew that things would never be that easy. She nodded in acknowledgement, smiling slightly at the ones who recently arrived, feeling the need to set an example, but it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t wary, especially of Catherine. Grateful for Percy, she silently commended him in her mind, knowing that if they continued here any longer it wouldn’t end up well. “ Don’t yell if I step on anyone’s toes, though. The rest of you want to come? ” She grinned, moving in their direction and extending a hand to steady Piper. The responsible part in her, though, couldn’t help but question Piper again. “ Are you sure you don’t want to go look for your bag first? If there’s important things in it … ”

Frowning at the situation, Percy decided that before any dancing was to be done they would have to discover the whereabouts of the bag. “Has anyone asked some of the staff?” he turned around to the bartender behind the bar and turned to look at Piper. After a hurried conversation, Percy turned to the group. “The bartender says he hasn’t seen it but there is apparently an official lost and found across the way,” he turned and strode off, unsure of which way to go, but he led the way all the same, doing everything that he could to indirectly combat the tension growing between them all. “What colour is your purse?” he asked curiously as the music shifted from Earth Wind and Fire to something a bit more modern that he couldn’t place his finger on.

Connor grinned as Piper placed an arm around him but simply slipped away when she left for a dance. He wasn’t in the mood to dance right now, not after the atmosphere that Cat brought with her. He was about to suggest that he go look for the purse whilst they danced, but then Percy set off on a mission. With a skip and sprint, he caught up to Percy’s side. “I can check the square entrances? Perhaps someone picked it up and dropped it off there. I don’t think it was stolen, and if it was, I could find that out too.” Without waiting for a response, he turned to face the others. “Anyone want to join me?” He then turned and made his way to the entrance that he had come through.

Marcus picked up the drink the bartender had whipped up for him but before he could say anything else, the group seemed to split up and Cat somewhat summoned him to follow her. Sipping his drink he grinned and followed behind Cat, free hand in his pocket. He wasn’t exactly impressed with how Aidan acted during the raiding of the Greek party, but it was amusing. He wasn’t there but he had definitely heard about it. It had been brought up at one of the Centurion meetings so that the Centurion of the 5th could deal with it. “Can you handle your alcohol tonight Aidan?” He said with a teasing smile. He then turned to look over the crowd. Frankly, he was rather bored. “Brock, interested in doing some rounds? I wouldn’t mind reprimanding a few legionnaires that have gotten themselves drunk during the festivitie?”

All the Greeks seemed, suddenly, very concerned with Piper’s bag, and Abigail suspected -- no, she was certain -- that, while their concern was real, they were all the more grateful to get away with the least popular demigod in New Rome. It was a pity that Marcus was so heavily associated with her (at her beck and call, in Abby’s opinion), because, as her mother always said: she was always Hecate. That was why she’d been the least affected by the Roman-Greek split. In her opinion, Marcus and the other children of Trivia were almost as much of her siblings as their Greek counterparts... “See you ‘round, brother”, she said, stabbing another fry with her toothpick. Deciding to help out, Abigail stood. “I’ll come with you, Connor.”

Cat gently watched the majority of the Greeks depart from the large part of the bar that they’d been occupying. “Make sure that you don’t pick on too many of them, I’ve got a nice 10 mile run in full gear for any of our Legionnaires returning to the barracks intoxicated underage, and anyone late for duties will be joining them.” It was a tradition she and Jax had formerly run, and one she intended to continue running in her brother’s absence. She didn’t mind her soldiers enjoying themselves, but they had to always put their duty first. Arriving to duty hungover was unacceptable and it was not something she was willing to tolerate. “But do make sure that our soldier’s are minding their manners. I’d hate for anyone to get upset in such a tense time.”

Aidan’s face flushed and he shrugged. The situation had grown increasingly uncomfortable with Cat and Marcus’ presence, and it felt weird to receive what felt like a compliment from her. “Thank you Z, thank you Cat. And don’t worry, Marcus, I will be watching my intake. I’ve learned that lesson. The rather hard way.” He said remembering how hot and heavy that armor had been the full 10 miles. His muscles ached from the memory. “But maybe go easy on my fellow legionnaires? Gods know we could all use tonight as a break. All work and no play, you know.” He watched as the group split, most people going after his sister’s mysteriously lost purse. He wondered if she’d even brought it. “How’ve you been Z? I haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

There was a lot to unpack at once. Z recalled, during the final declaration in front of the senate, that there was some sort of tension between Cat and Aidan, but the wording tonight from the centurion and also the man following her alluded to something more. The child of Hypnos would’ve given why a bit more thought, only the voices of a few familiar people caused his head to tilt away from those closest to him to garner a glance at the slight commotion. His ears could faintly pick up on them deciding to split up to look for Piper’s purse. He thought it was best to join them, since it would give him a chance to avoid whatever was about to happen before him with the Romans, but their talking drew him back in and his honey eyes snapped back to them quickly. “Never a dull moment for the Legion, I suppose,” he mused over the rim of his glass. Wagering a sip told him it was very much not water and he hated how smoothly the small bit of clear liquor went down without causing him to wince. “I’ve been as alright as I could be. It’s hard not falling victim to the ‘all work and no play’ sort of thing nowadays. I take it that it’s been fairly similar with people on your end as well?” His words were in the addressing of all the parties before him, not simply to Aidan. He didn’t want to be rude, no matter how much his skin crawled and itched at the thought of what sort of snap could possibly come from Cat or the, frankly, curt man with her.

Brock laughed and shrugged, picking his head up to look around at all that was going on. “Sure, though I think Aidan’s right, Marcus, go easy on them tonight. It’s not everyday that we get to go to a feast.” Roman life was hard and as understatements go, that was certainly one of them. But it made their parties, the times when they did relax all the better and everyone was more grateful for it. If he couldn’t relax tonight, on day when everyone was suppose to be thankful for things, maybe his superiors were right and he was too rigid. “Maybe have a drink first, Marcus.”

Wally watched the group of Greeks leave as he stayed at the bar, deciding to wait on Z. It was a few more minutes until he heard the sound of his boyfriends voice. Turning around, he saw him talking to the kid who Wally had looked after children with. He smiled, happy to see that Z was making friends. He looked back and realized his shot had been sitting there, waiting for him. He threw it back and grabbed his other drink, and went to join Z by putting an arm around his waist and saying hello to both him and Aidan. “Nice night for a party. How’re you boys?”

“Definitely.” Aidan replied. “Reconstruction efforts, civilian complaints…” He sighed, shaking his head and grinned. “And children watching. Wally here sure knows his way around the kids.” He greeted the man as he appeared. Aidan felt like gushing over how cute the pair were, but he held himself together for his current superiors. “I’m pretty good, and how are you? Did you get called back to the daycare since last time? I’m sure the kids wondered why you haven’t been back yet.”

Nico was never huge on social gatherings. The whole idea had his anxiety skyrocketing, but given the general atmosphere of New Rome following the full blown war he'd completely missed out on, he figured making an appearance would be a good thing, especially considering his history of attempting to maintain peace between the Romans and the Greeks. He arrived in an all black three piece suit, despite the fact that he absolutely hated dressing up, but a dress code was a dress code. The decor was breathtaking, and the reconstruction seemed to be heading in the right direction. Deciding against immediately seeking out human interaction, he made his way over to the bar and, after a millisecond long internal discussion about just how old he was (sometimes he forgot his exact age, given the fact that he was technically almost a century old), he ordered himself a Guinness and took a few small sips from the glass.

Percy had checked three bars across the square, doing his best to find Piper’s lost property. He had been enjoying the night well enough, and it only improved as he spotted the black three piece suit of Nico di Angelo. Drinking his typical pint of Guinness, Percy wondered if his friend drank Guinness for the aesthetic or whether he genuinely enjoyed the taste. Either way there was something striking about his appearance. “Nico!” Percy beamed, “I was wondering if you would show up.” Turning to the bartender he ordered himself another drink. The waiters that were moving around the room with Champagne seemed to have disappeared for the moment and Percy wanted to try reconnect with his friend, if he possibly could. “Isn’t the party going well?” he asked as the bartender passed him a pint of Blue Moon. Sadly the drink itself wasn’t actually blue, but the name at least made up for it a little bit.

Nico had no intention of moving from his spot at the bar just yet. Social interaction was draining, something he had to work himself towards. He’d blown through a quarter of his Guinness before he made out a familiar face moving through the crowd and towards him, a small smile forming on his lips. “Figured I'd at least make an appearance.” he responded, turning his body toward his friend. “I think so, yeah. Part of me forgets you guys were at each other's throats not too long ago, but then I spotted a couple Legionnaires giving me the stink eye.” he added with a light laugh. “I think things are going in the right direction for the most part, though.”

Percy had to admit that he was pleased to see his friend. Slipping his hand into his jacket pocket, he reassured himself by patting the pen which would transform into Riptide on the inside pocket of his jacket. Sipping at the hoppy larger he’d been given, Percy shrugged. “We were all manipulated into fighting one another, that’s something that’s going to take time to adjust to that,” sighing gently he took another long drink and sat silently. “The tension seems undeniable.” He sighed gently and shrugged. “But these things are the best worked out in social situations with a shit tonne of booze and food, right?”

Connor accepted the company and began checking the entrances. “No luck, this is really strange. I’m sure it’ll show up sometime though. He shrugged and dug his hands into his pockets, slowly heading over to a bar and ordering shots. “I suppose we should reward ourselves for the effort.” He states as 5 shots per person were poured. They were called sours and weren’t potent but 5 of them were surely to get the party going. He took all 5 swiftly and tilted his head back to enjoy the head rush. Spinning, he turned to locate everyone. He noted Percy’s location, watched as Marcus seemed to leave the party and finally his eyes fell on Cat. He stared as anger boiled. He couldn’t believe how stubborn and selfish someone could be. Not offering help to refugees simply because she’s helped the Romans already and was busy rebuilding. Perhaps it was the alcohol crowding his judgement but he spat on the floor and pulled a subtle middle finger at the Roman before turning and ordering his favorite drink. “I hate her.” He said to whomever was still with him after the shots and the purse hunt.

Cat hadn’t seen Connor’s less than subtle attempt at swearing at her. Mainly because as she had been crossing the square, she had noticed a small bag. Squatting down delicately, she scooped it up and returned to her less than lofty heights. Although the heels she wore allowed her to stand above her usual stature. Opening the purse, she flicked through it to find an ID. Piper Mclean. Interesting. Cat hadn’t exactly ever talked to Jason Grace’s former flame, and though she was sure that Piper was as insufferable as the rest of the heroes of the prophecy who had earned their fame through a few lucky quests, unlike her prestigious career through the Legion, leading and fighting for her people as it should be done. She was aware that a purse had been lost, and set out to return it to its owner. They had to at least pretend to play at peace right?

Connor turned and leaned his back against the bar, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes scanned the crowd again. It was a habit of his, searching the crowd for potential targets even if he had no plans of stealing anything. That’s when his eyes landed on Cat yet again. Seeing the purse that clearly did not match her outfit, he squinted and pieced things together. He launched himself off the bar and stormed off towards her. “I see you’ve found a purse, how convenient after Piper’s had just gone missing. I don’t suppose that’s hers is it?” He stood in her path, arms folded across his chest. “If you’re done doing who knows what with her belongings, I’ll return it to her thanks.” He held his hand out for her to hand the purse over.

Cat had no intention of speaking to impudent Greek that was angrily crossing the square across from her. However it soon became clear to her that Connor had every intention of speaking to her. Not even bothering to suppress the roll of her eyes she tutted at him. “Are you always this arrogant and rude?” she asked with a sneer quickly dancing across her face before she composed herself. “For your information, I only just picked this up, unlike you children of Hermes I have no intention or desire to steal. If I wanted this purse then I’d simply purchase it. However as this is hardly my sort of taste,” she looked somewhat disdainfully at the purse and frowned gently, “now if you’ll excuse me then I shall return this myself, I don’t need your interference, please step aside and next time remember who you’re speaking to. I’m not one of your cabin mates from Camp Half Blood. I’m a centurion of the twelfth Legion, I don’t owe you any explanation.”

“Actually, yeah I am.” Connor spat. “Especially to people that have given me a clear reason for me to be rude to them.” He spoke with confidence and met her gaze. “It’s not the purse you wanted, it was the information. Like you said, you’re a Centurion of the twelfth Legion, it’s your job to collect information on people who could be a threat, maybe you’re just collecting knowledge of the Greeks so that next time you declare war against us, you’ll have a better fighting chance.” He laughed dryly. “Yeah, so you get your henchmen to do everything else for you, but this you’d like to do yourself? To paint yourself as a hero when you stole it in the first place? That’s the thing with Hermes kids like myself, we don’t just steal things, we know other criminals moves as well.”

Laughing quietly and mirthlessly at Connor, Cat actually had to place a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from really shrieking with laughter. “Ah, you’re truly a fool, I am more committed to the peace process than any of us, if you don’t remember it was my orders that had the senators taken into custody.” She would’ve liked to say that she hadn’t collected information on what she considered to the main strengths and weaknesses of all of the most powerful demigods who could be seen as a threat to her or to the Cult. “However, just because you’ve developed a vendetta against me and my people, like so many of your people is not of interest to me. I have nothing to benefit from painting myself as the hero over something so petty. You’re drunk and making a fool of yourself. Now I’ll ask you one more time step away from me and allow me to continue on my path. This is none of your concern. Go back to your drinks.”

“Connor.” Abigail said, resting her hand over his chest to stop him from possibly advancing over Cat. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm, commanding respect. In another life, she would’ve made a good commander. “Stop. It’s not worth it to pick a fight. Actually, it’s downright a bad idea. Peace is fragile right now. Don’t. Blow it.”

Past experiences had trained Annabeth to sense trouble brewing pretty quickly, though she was too far away to stop the confrontation between Connor and Catherine. She’d never been much of a peacekeeper herself, one much more likely to fall victim to her own pride, but even then her analytical mind knew that de-escalation would be the correct path here. Noting that there was already someone attempting to hold Connor back, she caught his eye for a moment, hand slightly tapping his back as she passed, hoping that he would take the hint to back down. Instead, she turned her attention to Cat, smile on her face. “ Thanks for finding it, but Piper’s a little tipsy at the moment, and would probably end up losing it again if you gave it to her now. We’ll take care of it for now, but I’ll let her know that you found it. ”

Raising an eyebrow at the situation, Cat dipped her head gently and nodded. Handing the purse gently and carefully over to Annabeth before taking a step away. She had no intention to further the conflict with Connor, she wasn’t nearly childish enough to do so, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true but she had airs to keep up. Her professionalism was meant to be the core of her personality. “Hopefully she doesn’t lose it again,” she turned and strode away, moving towards Marcus with a slight smirk. That had been somewhat satisfying.

The Legionnaires had a lot on their plates, but this was certainly not a concept localized for just them. Z couldn’t quantify the amount of work the Greeks were also busy with. His own workload was enough to make him dizzy sometimes. “That does seem like quite a bit—Oh!” he gasped out softly as an arm snaked around his form. He looked over, and then subsequently upward, to see his boyfriend’s face, and his heart skipped a beat. Thank the gods it wasn’t someone random. “Aidan was the one you were working with at the daycare? What a coincidence. We met while I was keeping some children company in a game of hide and seek.” The universe worked in mysterious ways, it seemed. It was basically fate that they meet, just as it seemed to be fate that some sort of loud conversation broke out at an event for peace. As short as he was, he couldn’t quite see over the heads of other partygoers, but he did catch the faintest of sights of Connor and what sounded to be Cat’s voice as well over the cacophony of others. A frown graced his face as he fiddled with the glass between his hands.

Aidan sighed, thinking about how cute Wally and Z were, wishing he too would someday find something like they had. Or at least had thought to bring a date to dance with. It felt like a middle school dance, as tensions kept most the groups to the bar and food areas. Chatting quietly. At least it was passive until he heard the commotion, and felt a vague sense of dejavú watching Connor drunkenly yell at Cat. He just felt glad it wasn’t himself, not having even finished the glass in hand. Aidan downed it and trying to keep a smile on his face as he began to feel suffocated from the ensuing silence cleared his throat. “Brock- would you uh, would you care to dance?” He asked, trying to change the subject. “I love the-the cha cha slide, everyone… knows it…” He trailed off, hoping someone would jump to his aid. Surely he wasn’t the only uncomfortable one.

The Dominus has watched eagerly as the party had progressed. Tension burning bright after all the chaos they’d caused for them lingered in the back of their minds. Placing their empty palm on a sphere of crystal they stepped forward and cleared their throat before exerting their will on the magical artefact in their possession. Across the city, in the unity feast a shimmering apparition appeared before darkening into a silhouette made of pure shadow. With a voice like nails being dragged across slate, the Dominus began their first address. “Demigods. I hope you have enjoyed tonight’s festivities as it may be one of your last.” They pause for dramatic effect, drinking in the silence that had fallen on the crowd. “I appear before you tonight with some information for all if you. An omen, a warning. By now, you are aware that there is a cult that has burrowed and wormed its way into the city’s roots and corrupted almost every aspect of this society. The members of this cult are among us as I speak, yet in the shadows, they hide. The cult is one of the most powerful forces in New Rome, and it obeys my bidding now. I have poisoned this city, and used the cult to do so. Watch in despair as your hopes rot away, leaving nothing behind, you are witnesses of the end of New Rome. Your city will soon collapse in terror and despair. You may be asking yourself who I am, well that’s easy. I, am simply known, as the Dominus. A name that will be on your tongues as you die in the rubble of this fallen city. Enjoy tonight, as soon the time of reckoning will be upon you.” The Dominus stepped away from his artefact and the vision cut off, a moment later the unity feast exploded into a chaotic roar of questions and shouts, confusion and concern enveloping the whole group.

#f&gevent #unity feast

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kingedwardviii · 6 years

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What are your thoughts on the narrative regarding David/Edward and Wallis portrayed in The Crown? Sorry if you’ve been asked before!

Hi! I was asked something like this a while ago, but it was before season 2 which kinda changed my view on the show a little bit.

I’m actually still working on a pretty substantial series of posts for my other blog about the various allegations in episode six of season two, which are a mixture of complete bullshit and things deliberately taken out of context. But here is my latest post, with actual citations, about the various Nazi related rumors and the problems with that narrative. The odd thing about The Crown is that unlike most fictional portrayals of the royal family, you get the feeling that the research was done but then kinda ignored to make the plot go in the direction the writers wanted it to.

Other than the fundamental issue of whether or not the Windsors supported the Nazis (tldr; they didn’t) after the jump are my pros and cons about the accuracy of their portrayal in both seasons. It has been about six months since I’ve watched any of it, so I might be missing a few things, though I did refer to some notes I had about season two.

Pros:

-There was an impressive attention to detail when it came to recreating their clothing, Wallis’s jewelry, and some of the details in how they decorated. A lot of research and effort must’ve gone into it, and I was happy to see Wallis’s cross bracelet, the pug pillows, and many of David’s real outfits replicated.

-There was a definite ring of authenticity to David’s letters home to Wallis, at least for the season one episodes. Since the season two plotline of him coming home during Billy Graham’s visit and being banished by Elizabeth was 100% fake, obviously the letters there weren’t based on anything factual. Apparently for reasons having to do with copyright, the letters in season one were rearranged and a lot of it was rewritten, but as someone who’s read the real letters and pretty much knows them backwards and forwards I was fooled at first into thinking they were real letters just cut up out of context. The nicknames were real, though I think the show implied they were more malicious than they actually were since David and Wallis had nicknames for *everyone*. He did call her Peaches, a detail other dramatizations have missed.

-Wallis and David could both be kind of petty, bitchy, overdramatic people, especially when it came to the royal family. This came from a genuine place of deep hurt which you need some level of background knowledge to understand, but that is certainly a very realistic aspect of their personalities and their dynamic as a couple that comes through when you read their letters from any point after the abdication.

-There aren’t really any fictionalized portrayals of David and Wallis that go into their life after the abdication, and even less so if you’re talking about after the war. I think The Crown did a good job showing their relationship in a realistic way, and showing the complexities of his feelings; though she didn’t get as much depth. It seems to be hard for some writers (both of fiction and “non-fiction” that is more like fiction) to wrap their heads around the fact that the Windsors, her especially, were bitter about living in exile, had their share of regrets, but also did genuinely love each other. They most certainly did not live happily ever after, and even had tension in their relationship over the abdication, but also showed a lot of affection for each other and tried to make their marriage work. Though I think some of this was the realistic chemistry and it’s more of a credit to the actors, who probably studied over old photos and videos quite a bit, rather than the writing or directing.

-Considering they got a relatively small amount of screen time, the depth that we got of his characterization was pretty impressive. Peter Morgan does have something of a gift for telling you a lot about a character in a relatively small number of scenes, which is noticeable with other characters such as Tony Snowden and Jackie Kennedy as well.

-David and Wallis Windsor were 100% the sort of people who would’ve thrown a birthday party for one of their dogs. I have no evidence something like this happened but if you read how they write about their dogs in their letters, it seems plausible.

Cons:

-Wallis’s character is not given much agency or a voice of her own. She gets less screen time as David and has no real relationship with the protagonist of the story, so this makes sense on some level, but I also feel like there were some missed opportunities there. For instance, along with David’s letters to Wallis, we have her letters back to him which are an incredibly important, but often ignored, source of insight as to her personality and her feelings towards her husband. The royal family seemed to view Wallis as a one-dimensional villain character, and the media at the time and even today treats her as more of a plot-point than a complex human being. Even though The Crown at least shows her as affectionate towards David (which is accurate) and not totally lacking in humanity, there is no real attempt to subvert or reexamine the incredibly misogynistic narrative the royal family and their supporters built around her and some of the inaccuracies I’m about to mention play into this.

-Wallis is shown as being present during the abdication flashback scenes in season one, even being in the same room as Queen Mary in one of them. She wasn’t there, she was out of the country during most of the abdication crisis and, crucially, Queen Mary refused to ever meet her at all, during or after the crisis. The closest they came was over a year earlier when Wallis, at a series of large events David had gotten her into, was in the same room as King George V and Queen Mary and was briefly presented to them. I am guessing this is just a case of bad historical research; any biography of the people involved, even a bad one, would’ve set them straight. But it creates a very misleading impression because they missed something very significant to understanding David’s attitude towards his family: Queen Mary considered Wallis so far beneath her she refused to even be in the same room as Wallis once she knew David wanted to marry her. After the abdication, the rest of the royal family mostly followed her lead, so at the time both seasons of The Crown are set, Elizabeth II has only ever met Wallis once (or maybe twice), fleetingly, when she was a little girl. This was also widely covered in the press, so Wallis had to deal with the fact that not only did her in-laws hate her and blame her for the abdication, but the entire world knew that. Also, though the show doesn’t touch on the tension between Wallis and David over the abdication (except perhaps that weird exchange at the party in season two), which is probably the right choice given the time period covered, to make a very long story short if you want to understand Wallis’s side of that story the fact that she wasn’t there when David abdicated and he didn’t tell her until it was already put into motion is pretty fucking crucial. Making her seem more involved in that situation also serves to make the royal family’s treatment of her seem more justified than it actually was.

-That they even referenced (much less treated as factual) the ridiculous story about Wallis sleeping with the Nazi diplomat Joachim von Ribbentrop is pretty disgusting. This is a somewhat distinct issue to the fundamental problems with the Nazi narrative as a whole that I covered in the post linked above. Not only is there no evidence whatsoever for this story, but it can be directly traced back to a misinterpretation of another false rumor that Wallis was overly friendly with Ribbentrop’s predecessor Leopold von Hoesch, Wallis at least knew Hoesch, who it’s worth noting was not a member of the Nazi party. Ribbentrop only met Wallis a few times, fleetingly, at parties. Of all the ridiculous “affair” stories, this one is the least credible (and none of them are credible), doesn’t really make any logical sense, but is also the most widely repeated. The reason for that is this particular story uses the decades of baseless slut-shaming that has been heaped on Wallis to give credence to the extremely flimsy narrative that she was some sort of Nazi agent. And because Wallis isn’t given a ton of agency or characterization, the viewer might find this allegation believable even though it seems to contradict what little we are told about her. Whatever pre-conceived notions you have about Wallis that might stem from misogyny, either through false allegations or taking an overly judgmental attitude to things that are true, will make you more inclined to believe the Ribbentrop story, and then that story in turn props up an entire narrative about her being a Nazi collaborator. It’s bullshit, but it gives people a more socially acceptable reason to hate her in this day and age and prevents any sort of feminist reexamination of how Wallis was treated.

-Though we see a few bitchy comments from the Queen Mother, by and large the royal family’s nastiness towards David and Wallis is downplayed in season one, and then given a completely bullshit justification in season two. The entire plotline of the episode in season two, as it pertains to David asking Elizabeth if he can return to England and her telling him off because for being a Nazi, is completely false. It goes to show how much of an impact that The Crown has had on how the royal fandom views David and Wallis that people now seem to genuinely believe Nazi sympathies had something to do with the royal family’s banishment of the Windsors. The royal family viewed the Windsors as negatively (or possibly more negatively) before the war, than after it, and their vendetta against Wallis started before the visit to Nazi Germany, even. Their complaints about the Nazi Germany visit, to the extent that we have documentation of them, center around it being a publicity stunt rather than it involving the Nazis. David and Wallis were allowed in Britain more often after the war than before it. In the 1960s, Elizabeth II finally agreed to meet Wallis, agreed to let the Windsors be buried in Britain, and actually invited Wallis and David as a married couple to an official engagement; this was the closest to a “reconciliation” that ever happened and all of it was after the Marburg papers were published (which if you skipped the link earlier, didn’t exactly say what Peter Morgan would have you believe they did), and after episode six of season two of The Crown is set. I am going to guess season three of The Crown will not cover any of that because they doubled down on the Nazi angle to such an extent that it’s not only incredibly historically inaccurate, but pretty much rules out any reconciliation between David and Elizabeth unless they want to retcon some of it. Elizabeth II was mostly following the lead of her parents when it came to her views on Wallis and David, and her parents were pretty open about their feelings: they were bitter and angry about the abdication and how it impacted their lives, and they also held a lot of backwards, sexist views about Wallis, views that were not kept secret either in public or private. To the extent that Elizabeth’s attitude towards them changed during the ‘50s and ‘60s, she became less hostile to them because of changing attitudes about divorce and women’s rights, not more hostile to them because of anything to do with Nazism.

-Around the time of David’s appearance in season two of The Crown, he was writing a book (Windsor Revisited, published in 1960) which he did go to Britain to research. Furthermore, at this point he’d already written his memoirs (A King’s Story, published in 1951) which were an international bestseller, so the idea of him coming to Britain to work on a book should hardly have seemed surprising or questionable to anyone. Also by this point David had basically given up on ever being given a position in Britain again; when George VI and Queen Mary died and nothing changed, he basically gave up because he realized the Queen Mother’s attitude was not doing to change and she would remain an obstacle even if her daughter was nominally head of the family.

-The idea that the royal family was (or even still is) trying to cover up some sort of connection between David and the Nazis isn’t really backed up. Churchill, who had been a close friend of David for many years, did try to suppress Nazi documents that mentioned him, as did President Eisenhower, who was friendly with the Windsors, but also who was involved with capturing the deposits of documents to begin with and felt the Nazis didn’t tend to make very reliable sources. Bertie, on the other hand, said the documents probably should be published. Two of the men involved in sending the documents to the American researchers, insuring their publication, were closely tied to the royal family. One, John Wheeler-Bennett, who found out about the “missing” documents and insisted they be included in the publication with the help of American historians, was subsequently chosen by the Queen and Queen Mother to write the official biography of George VI and later was knighted by the Queen for service to the royal family. The other was Tommy Lascelles, and according to Wheeler-Bennett, he actually made the microfilms of the documents that were sent along and later published. More damaging than anything that has actually been published is this idea that there is more of it out there that the royal family is still concealing. Not only is there no reason to believe there is anything more out there or that the royal family has “covered” for David and Wallis, we know that the one chance they had to do so, they weren’t cooperative and may very well have helped undermine Churchill’s attempt to do so. And they really didn’t have a motivation; the narrative now is that David and Wallis were Nazi sympathizers or even collaborators, and perhaps that now is slightly damaging to the prestige of the monarchy, though it’s not like they didn’t have their share of questionable figures already and it’s not like other monarchies in Europe haven’t faced similar allegations, most of them more credible. But in the late ‘40s and ‘50s, if you read contemporary newspapers and magazines, the Duke of Windsor was still a relatively popular figure and polls suggested the public thought he should be allowed to live in Britain again. Even when he died in 1972, there was a large public showing of grief and sixty thousand people waited in line for hours to view his lying in state. For the main branch of the family during that period, it probably looked much better to encourage the public to think David was a bad apple and they kicked him out of the country so he couldn’t do any damage (especially if Wallis is blamed for corrupting him) than to say there was a decades long family feud where everyone (including George VI, the Queen Mother, and Elizabeth II) behaved badly and they kicked a popular member of our family out of both public life and private family events because of personal drama and attitudes about divorce that look more out-of-touch with each passing year.

-The back story between Churchill and David is largely left out; their one major scene together in season one seems to hint at it (one of Churchill’s lines suggests he’s helped David before and it didn’t end well), but the little bit we see of Churchill in season two doesn’t hint at it at all. And theoretically that would’ve happened first; even though the whole show is written by Peter Morgan it almost feels like two different writers, one of whom knows that Churchill was a friend of David for decades and his primary supporter during the abdication crisis and one who either doesn’t know that or is choosing to go in a different direction. I am leaning towards the latter idea since I feel like David’s plotline in season two was written entirely in response to criticism from people who largely don’t know that history who thought the show was being too sympathetic to David and Wallis. I’ve seen some of these same people treating this as a plot hole, wondering why Churchill would’ve had dinner with David “knowing” all of these supposedly horrible things David did, but in real life they did remain friendly and Winston and Clementine Churchill had even went to stay with David and Wallis in France during the period he was out of office. Though arguably there’s a lot of back story relating to David and Wallis in general that perhaps should be included but isn’t. Especially for a show that loves giving back story about characters to try and explain their actions.

-Wallis never smoked, but weirdly most period dramas seem to want to show her as a smoker. She didn’t smoke, she hated the smell of it, believed it was unhealthy, and was constantly nagging at David to cut back. But if you’re someone that just likes to watch period dramas about her instead of reading books, you’d probably think she did smoke because almost all of them make that mistake. Or it may be some sort of deliberate stylistic choice because smoking while dressed in period clothing with period hair and make-up looks cool. Plus in old movies, “bad girl” characters always smoked and that is usually how Wallis is portrayed.

-David and Wallis were in New York when he was informed of George VI’s death, which he found out about from the press rather than his family or the local consulate. They were also in New York when he was informed of Queen Mary’s illness and left to go see her. David’s sister Princess Mary, who doesn’t really exist in The Crown except a few off-screen references, was visiting New York at the time, and they travelled to Britain together to come see her. Princess Mary was the only person in the family who remained on good terms with David, and actually boycotted Elizabeth and Philip’s wedding when he wasn’t invited to it. Wallis was also in New York for the burials of both George VI and Queen Mary, not their house in France.

#Edward VIII #Duke of Windsor #Duchess of Windsor #this is a LONG one lol #The Crown

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kentonramsey · 4 years

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What The Demise Of Topshop Means To Me & Other Millennials

Topshop, once the buzziest store on the British high street, has become the latest COVID casualty – and the one that hurts the most. Last month it was announced that the beleaguered Arcadia group, which also owns Dorothy Perkins, Wallis, Miss Selfridge and Burton, had gone into administration, putting 13,000 jobs at risk. Meanwhile, Twitter is ablaze with fond memories of ‘Big Topshop’ in the wake of the Oxford Street store closing for good. A decade ago, the idea that Topshop, the jewel in Arcadia’s crown, could be on the brink of collapse would have been unimaginable.

In the mid 2000s, Topshop was at the peak of its popularity, collaborating with titans of fashion and music, from Kate Moss to Beyoncé. In an effort to prove that it was creating its own authentic trends, rather than being simply another catwalk copycat, the brand had its own much-anticipated spot on the London Fashion Week schedule. The show drew the top models of the day – the likes of Cara Delevingne and Jourdan Dunn – and Arcadia boss Philip Green sat on the front row, nestled between Anna Wintour and a bevy of contemporary It Girls.

But somewhere along the way, Topshop lost its lustre. The 90,000-square-foot Oxford Street emporium that was once the beating heart of London fashion, synonymous with cutting-edge clothes which could be worn by those within and outside the industry became just like any other fast fashion store, peddling unremarkable designs in cheap, disposable fabrics. My generation, once outfitted in head-to-toe Topshop, began to move onto fashion-forward, mid-range brands like Arket or Ganni, while younger Gen Zers flocked to online retailers like ASOS and Boohoo which had eclipsed Topshop with their ruthlessly low prices, rapid turnover and savvy influencer marketing strategies.

It also become impossible to dissociate Topshop from the tax-dodging man behind it, who has been mired in controversy in recent years. The hammer blow to Green’s reputation came in 2015, when he sold the ailing BHS for just £1, only for it to collapse a year later, resulting in the loss of 11,000 jobs and a £571 million pension deficit. In 2018, Green faced flak for cancelling a feminist pop-up curated by author Scarlett Curtis at Topshop’s flagship store after he reportedly saw the display and removed it; a few weeks later he was named in parliament as the businessman accused of multiple counts of sexual misconduct and racial abuse. Green denied the allegations but his reputation was irreparably tarnished. Soon, Beyoncé would pull her Ivy Park clothing line from stores and Topshop would be forced to cancel a launch party for its collaboration with London Fashion Week favourite Michael Halpern. By the end of 2019, Topshop had experienced losses of half a billion pounds and the value of sales had dropped by 9%. The spell had finally broken.

At the start of the pandemic, Arcadia’s cancellation of over £100 million worth of clothing orders from suppliers in some of the world’s poorest countries did nothing to cast the brand in a favourable light. In an age of more mindful consumption, it became hard to square shopping at Topshop with knowledge of Green’s tax avoidance and short-changing of pensioners while leading a champagne-soaked lifestyle of private jets and super yachts. Yet despite Topshop’s dramatic fall from grace, its collapse is tinged with sadness for millennials like me who grew up during its heyday. For those of us who came of age in the early noughties and 2010s, Topshop was our entry point into fashion, the go-to destination once we outgrew Tammy Girl’s sparkly slogan tees and through which we could envisage a life for ourselves beyond the humdrum of suburbia.

“Topshop was always on the horizon as the first place I ever wanted to buy clothes,” says Anna Loo, who works in publishing. “I feel like it was a gateway for pre-teens to discover your own style and it was where you shopped for the first time when your parents stopped buying your clothes. I used to go to the one in Cabot Circus in Bristol and that was like a classic weekend event with friends. We’d get on the train – it was only 15 minutes from Bath – and it was always so exciting to see what new stock they’d have.”

“I used to work at Café Rouge when I was 17 and I’d spend all my tips money in Topshop on the weekend,” says Jess Kerntiff, who now works in fashion PR. “I remember when I managed to get one of the Kate Moss dresses in the sale – it was a short, strapless pink dress and I was so happy about getting it. I feel like Topshop was the only affordable fashion at the time that was super on trend.”

Topshop democratised glamour and style by making catwalk trends available at accessible prices to fashion-obsessed teens like me, who spent hours poring over runway photos on the now-defunct style.com. It also gave us iconic designer collaborations which have become the stuff of fashion lore, from Christopher Kane’s grungy, grommet-studded 2009 collection to Kate Moss’ many sell-out lines, which saw scores of young women queue outside the flagship store for hours (the one-shoulder buttercup-yellow chiffon dress can still be found on eBay).

“Up until the age of 15 or 16 I thought it was just the epitome of aspirational cool,” says fashion writer Rosalind Jana. “This was the point where they’d just begun doing collaborations with young designers like Preen and the late Richard Nicoll. The Christopher Kane one is still particularly memorable. I was a big part of the fashion blogging community as a teenager and every single blogger was wearing either the studded minis or that tunic with the aggressive crocodile face.”

For many millennial women, Topshop will be entwined with adolescent milestones, from buying your first pair of Jamie jeans (or Joni, if that was your preference – both garnered cult status) to shopping for your prom dress (mine was a rather risqué slinky powder-pink slip dress which, in retrospect, looked a lot like a nightie). “I remember a pair of grey spike-heeled lace-up ankle boots I bought in the flagship Oxford Street store when I was 13. I’d come to London with my mum for a modelling shoot and the chance to go to all of these big shops still felt super thrilling, and very far removed from the small village where I lived,” says Rosalind. “I wore those boots for years and weirdly, even though my feet grew two sizes, they still fitted.”

Despite having bought nothing from Topshop in recent years, some of my favourite pieces remain from there, including a pair of Chloé lookalike cut-out leather pointed toe ankle boots which I’ve had resoled not once but twice. In fact, it’s only halfway through writing this sentence that I realise I’m wearing a Topshop blouse, bought in the sale many moons ago.

“I just think Topshop represents the kind of first foray into adult fashion for so many girls,” says Anna. “I think for a lot of people, Topshop will have been such a big part of their lives. It will be sad to see it go.”

“When I was at that age when Topshop was at its biggest, you would have thought that they would be untouchable,” says Jess. “So even though it’s probably been a long time coming, it still feels like the end of an era.”

Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?

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What The Demise Of Topshop Means To Me & Other Millennials published first on https://mariakistler.tumblr.com/

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 7 years

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She’s a Bombshell Blonde & I’m James Bond

Happy Holidays!!! I was @hellahousecat‘s Young Justice secret Santa! One of your prompts was a song that I love that reminds me of a character or ship. Songs always tend to remind me of characters so this was really fun to write! The song I choose was Bombshell Blonde by Owl City and it always reminds me of Wally & Artemis. I really hope that you enjoy this! Words: 2,871 Ship: Spitfire Rating: G

Wally flung the cabinet doors open and closed them just as quickly. Moving from one cupboard to the next he managed to search the entire kitchen in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, no new food had appeared from the time he checked a minute ago until now. With a sigh Wally turned to go and collapse facedown on the couch.

With his eyes closed, wallowing in self-pity, he never saw Artemis enter the room and was only altered to her presence when she tickled him causing Wally to flail off the couch. He yelped as he tumbled to the floor.

Artemis laughed as she walked around the back of the couch, reaching out a hand to pull him off the carpeting.

“What was that for?” Wally grumbled, taking her hand and letting her pull him to his feet.

“Sorry, Baywatch. I just couldn’t resist.”

“Babe,” Wally gave her his most wounded pout.

Artemis just raised a single eyebrow at him. “That face might work on Robin but I am immune.”

Wally stumbled back from her in mock surprise, he saw her roll her eyes but the twitch of her lips gave away her amusement. “The bromance is real. Don’t mock the bromance.”

“Ok, ok! I won’t mock the bromance,” she snorted.

“In all seriousness, the heck?” Wally asked, spreading his arms and motioning to the now empty couch.

“I’ve got us a mission. From Batman himself. You know, for date night since it’s my turn to plan something,” Artemis sounded smug, but her smile gave away her uncertainty at the idea. Or more specifically, her uncertainty that Wally was going to like it.

“You got Bats to ok a mission for us? For date night? Have I mentioned I love you? And that you scare me?”

Artemis smiled and reached an arm out to lightly shove his shoulder. Wally just grinned back at her. “C’mon, I’ll even buy you pizza beforehand.”

“You had me at date night.”

Artemis shook her head and grabbed Wally’s hand, pulling him through the cave to the zeta tubes.

As they sat in the little Happy Harbor pizzeria Wally inhaled an extra-large meat lovers special and Artemis outlined the mission. There was a charity gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York that night and she and Wally had tickets. What’s more is she and Wally had formal attire so that they could blend in and monitor the crowd because Batman had gotten a tip or, more likely, scared some goon into telling him that the Riddler was planning to rob the attendees. They were to stop Riddler if he tried anything but – more importantly – catch him before he was able to put his plan in motion.

“So, wait a second, why aren’t he and Rob just handling this then?” Wally asked, with only half his mouth full.

Artemis shrugged and snatched one of his pizza slices. “He didn’t say and when I asked Rob he gave me some convoluted answer about it being out of their territory and that the night is dark vengeance, but the night also has prior commitments and a butler that could kill?”

Wally snorted and almost choked on his pizza, having to take a hasty sip of his water to keep from coughing.

“That mean something to you?”

“Only that Rob gets his sass from his grandpa.”

“Uh huh,” Artemis gave him a questioning look but decided to continue with the plan. “So, we get to dress up, play spy, keep the Riddler from ruining everyone’s night, and have some fun. If things go badly, we kick some people’s butts. If things go well, we get to kick some people’s butts.”

“Win-win,” Wally said with a grin.

Artemis smiled back at him. “You’re just excited that I’m willingly wearing a dress.”

“If I have to wear a bow tie I better not be the only one suffering.”

Artemis threw her head back as she laughed and Wally couldn’t help but smile. Sure they sparred a lot, both physically in training and verbally just about all the time, but Wally loved her. Their teasing was something that they’d both found they couldn’t live without not long after they first started dating. They had both made the conscious effort to not make their usual sarcastic quips about each other.

However, after a week the rest of the team sat them down for an intervention, things just weren’t the same and Wally and Artemis knew it too. Now they still made jokes, but at their own expense and not the other’s. They had also decided that if they were teasing each other about something it was because they liked it and weren’t making fun.

Now, they both laughed more, and Wally loved it. Even though they had been dating long enough that he should be used to it, seeing Artemis laugh made him smile and his heart speed up. It was even better than running.

“You’re making that face again,” Artemis said. She swirled her straw in her milkshake as she smirked at him.

Wally felt his ears redden but he shrugged, leaning back in the booth. “What face? I thought you said that my expression was- what was it again? Eternally goofy?”

Artemis snorted, she had to purse her lips to keep from smiling and Wally couldn’t help but grin cheekily back at her. Finally, she cracked. Smiling and shaking her head at him. “Remind me again? I love you why exactly?”

“I ask myself that every day, babe.”

“Ok then Mr. Smooth Operator. We’ve got a gala to get to and I still have to figure out what to do with this.” Artemis gestured to the mane of blonde hair that was spilling over her shoulder from her ponytail.

“You could just chop it all off,” Wally suggested, digging out his wallet to leave a tip.

“Not even an option.”

“Hey, you asked and I answered.”

“Not helpfully,” Artemis leaned against the counter at the register, waiting for someone to ring up their order. The waitress came over and Artemis paid, accepting her change with a smile. She led the way to where they parked their bikes before they sped off to get ready back at Mount Justice, from there they would zeta to New York and catch a cab to the museum.

When he got to his room he was unsurprised to find a dark red suit laying across the bed. It fit perfectly, and Wally made a mental note to thank Alfred the next time he was at the manor. Even though there were no price tags on it, or the rest of the outfit for that matter, Wally knew the whole thing probably could pay for his first year at college. Still, as he tied the black bow tie in the mirror over his bathroom sink Wally had to admit he looked, and felt, a little like James Bond. Smoothing his hair Wally did one last check in the mirror. Somehow his red hair and the red suit didn’t clash, if anything it brought out his freckles and made his green eyes stand out (another point for the butler). Wally blinked at himself to make sure it was him before hurrying back through his room, slipping his goggles, wallet, and ticket into his pocket on the way out.

He was standing by the zetas when Artemis walked in, he turned to her and froze. Her dress was a single long panel of black velvet – obviously meant to coordinate with his black shirt, tie, and trim – with sleeves that reached just past her elbows and a scooping neckline that showed off most of her shoulders and collarbone. There was a slit to her knee on the one side and it gave him a peek at the bright red heels she wore, which looked deadly even from where he was standing. Around her neck hung what looked like three enormous rubies and Wally had a sneaking suspicion those were a Wayne family heirloom on loan for the night. Artemis blinked and the dark makeup around her eyes shimmered. She brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eye, which was expertly curled and Wally highly suspected Zatanna’s magic had been involved as he had heard her cursing up a storm in the kitchen earlier. Artemis smiled shyly at him, her lips the same red as her shoes and the clutch in her other hand.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “So, uh, what do you think?”

Wally could only blink at her for a few more seconds before shaking himself. “Artemis- wow- you look- wow…”

She smiled and walked over to him. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself.”

“Remind me to hug Batman the next time I see him? Cause this,” Wally swept his hand out to gesture at Artemis, “is the best date night ever. And it hasn’t even started.”

Artemis raised her eyebrows but smiled. “I will, only because I want to see what’ll happen when you hug Batman.”

“Meanie,” Wally grinned at her and held out his hand. She took it and shrugged. Together they stepped into the zeta tube and a few seconds later they were in New York.

As they walked out of the alley Artemis passed Wally an earpiece as she slipped in her own. He took the comms and paused before they got to the sidewalk. Wally felt his eyebrows knit together as he looked at Artemis again, this time trying to ignore how pretty he thought she was and how much it made him want to kiss her.

Artemis stopped and turned back to him. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t have your bow. Or quiver. I mean, I’m pretty sure you could kill me with those heels but still.”

Artemis smirked at him and waved him closer. Curious Wally walked to her side at which point Artemis handed him her clutch. Wally raised an eyebrow at her and she simply nodded. Opening the clutch he peered inside, there was nothing but lipstick, her phone, and her ticket. Wally looked back at Artemis in confusion. She smiled and grabbed the purse, she pulled at something inside of it and the lining he had been looking at was now pushed to the side and a miniature crossbow with dozens of specialized bolts could be seen.

“It’s a baby bow,” Wally said. He felt his eyebrows raise in anticipation of her laugh.

Artemis laughed and replaced the hidden panel. “That it is. And also, you so weren’t wrong about the heels.” She smirked and stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. Wally shook his head before following after her.

They hailed a cab and were soon on their way to the Met. They had to get out a little further down the block but neither Wally or Artemis minded, they were supposed to try and be inconspicuous after all. They avoided the red carpet and the paparazzi that came with it, being ushered in a side entrance by a security guard when they showed him their invitations.

The museum was darkened, only the halls leading through the Egyptian exhibit to the huge hall where the Temple of Dendur stood were lit with a low light. Wally squeezed Artemis’s hand as they stepped into the hall. She smiled at him before turning her attention to the stone temple that rose up before them. On the edges of the room were tables and chairs, waiters and waitresses with drinks and appetizers flitted between people dressed in fine suits and designer dresses. Many of the women were dripping jewels and Wally felt as if even in their expensive formal wear he and Artemis were underdressed.

Wally turned his head to whisper in Artemis’s ear. “I can see now why Riddler wants to rob the joint.”

“No kidding,” she mumbled back.

Wally smiled and let go of her hand, holding out his arm so that she could link hers through instead. “Shall we start mingling? Try and find Riddler? Just check out that awesome temple?”

Artemis shook her head but her grin split her face and she hooked her arm through Wally’s. “I think we shall. To the temple please?”

They made their way slowly through the crowd, grabbing sparkling cider off the tray of a passing waiter, smiling at the other attendees, and scanning the crowd for anyone in a green suit. Riddler may be a genius and a dangerous criminal but the guy was not always smart. If they hadn’t known it was going to be a sure thing Wally and Artemis would’ve taken bets on the likelihood that he’d show up in his signature green suit and bowler hat.

They walked up to the steps at the base of the platform the temple stood on. Wally held out his hand to help steady Artemis as they climbed the stairs. From there they had a near perfect view of the whole crowd. Wally paused to see if Riddler had made an appearance, but Artemis continued toward the temple.

Wally turned and followed her. “Uh Artemis? You find anything?”

She was standing in the entrance to the small temple, studying the huge stones. “Hmm? Sorry, I’ve never been here before and this is just…”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Wally replied with a smile. Artemis grinned back and crooked a finger at him. Just as he began to walk towards her a scream split the air.

Artemis’s face fell. “I guess we found Riddler,” she said dryly. “Let’s go get him before anyone gets hurt.” She pulled the crossbow out of her purse, a look of determination on her face.

Wally slipped his goggles on, gave Artemis a kiss on the cheek, and ran off towards the source of the screams. Barring the entrance to the exhibit was Riddler and his goons, and he was clad in that ridiculous suit. Glancing back at the temple he saw that Artemis had slipped a small domino mask on and was aiming her bow at the farthest goon. A second later a tranquillizer dart appeared in his neck. Wally took that as his cue and began knocking out the rest of them. Riddler watched in shock as one after another his men fell unconscious to the ground. The crowd parted to allow Artemis through. Her skirt billowed slightly and her blonde hair fanning out behind her. Wally stopped by her side, he knew that there was a goofy grin on his face but Artemis’s grand entrance was something admirable.

“No, no, no, no! I came to New York so there weren’t any superheroes!” Riddler cried, he even stamped his foot in frustration. “And who are you supposed to be anyway?!”

“Two kids playing spy who are about to ruin your night rather than allowing you to ruin everyone else’s,” Artemis smirked and lazily pointed her crossbow at him.

“If I were you Eddie, I’d let my girlfriend cuff you before she decides to shoot you,” Wally shrugged, wrapping an arm around Artemis’s waist. She smiled but never took her eyes off Riddler. Or her finger off the trigger.

“You’re from that junior Justice League! Kiddie Flash and Archer Girl!”

“For a supposed genius you’ve got an awful memory. I am a goddess, protector of maidens, personification of the moon, the leader of the hunt, what am I?”

The Riddler ground his teeth at her turning his own schtick around on him. Wally felt himself vibrating slightly he was so amused and proud. With her free hand Artemis poked him in his side and Wally knew that meant she could feel him vibrating too. And that it tickled and she wanted him to stop.

“Well Artemis,” Riddler spit out. “If you’re so determined to catch me, then try!” With that he threw down a smoke bomb and the crowd once again screamed.

Wally gave Artemis’s side a quick squeeze before racing after him. Smoke bombs might work, sometimes, when dealing with Batman and Robin but Wally had superspeed, there was no way Riddler was getting away from him. Wally already had him cuffed and was staring smugly at Riddler before the villain could even get out the door.

He let out a strangled, frustrated cry and began stomping his feet like a child when he spotted Wally. With a snort Wally pulled out his phone and began taking a video. Artemis sauntered toward them through the remaining smoke. She was chuckling and shaking her head, “Is that supposed to be your souvenir?”

“Well yeah. From the best date night ever,” Wally grinned and pulled Artemis toward him once she got within reach. Wrapping his arm around her waist again he pulled Artemis against him. Wally spun them around and flipped the camera on his phone. He ducked his head slightly as she raised hers, their lips meeting in the middle. Wally’s phone recorded their whole kiss, with Riddler’s tantrum in the background.

When they parted Artemis opened her gray eyes and smirked. “You’re never going to be able to top this, Baywatch.”

“You’re right Babe, but like a good new Bond I’m definitely gonna try,” Wally grinned.

Artemis snorted and rolled her eyes before pulling him back in for another kiss.

#dc comics #yjsecretsanta #young justice #wally west #kid flash #artemis crock #artemis #spitfire #writing #own writing #my fic #mentioned #robin #i hope you don't mind the goofy batfam references i made #i couldn't help myself since dick is like their eternal third wheel #best bromance in comics

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gloomverse-fan-club · 7 years

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Okay so I was writing a story in google docs and I asked Mod Wallis to help me finish it so here we have a 4-page, 1,376-word story and the first half is basically normal and the rest is something that he did.

okay so ENJOY sjdfNJFSDF -mod purple

(per note; aurora is my oc this was supposed to be a serious fanfiction jasdkasd. the premise was that purple + wallis never met and it kind of dissolved the moment mod wallis pops in)

[ under the cut! ]

thank u zeph for helping

Professor Purple, renowned scientist of Gloomverse, studying the biology and magic of the world. Growing up, Purple seemed to be mostly disliked by his peers. The first fraction of his life, he lived in Steamverse, a smaller portion of Gloomverse, before he and his family moved to Prisma, the capital of the country. Two years after the move, his mother left, and four years after, his father died. He was twelve then, and now he is twenty-six. Oftentimes, he now seems to react mechanically to most everything. Nothing ever seems to go his way, and now, the colour problem was just another thing he had to deal with. But, Purple pushes all of that under the rug. He has work to do.

“Have you heard Wallis Gloom’s last show? It sounded like it was phenomenal!”

Purple looked up from his paperwork to see his co-worker, Aurora, staring at the wall with doe eyes. He rolled his own eyes before looking back down, continuing his work.

“I haven’t, actually. Those types of things don’t interest me much, you should know that, Aurora. But, if I’m right, I should have a private interview scheduled with him sometime soon,” Purple said offhandedly, shuffling through his papers, searching for one that may have gotten lost. “I actually don’t know much about Gloom, aside from what’s shoved in my face in the streets. Judging from that, though, I have to say- I’m not very impressed.”

“Wait, really? ‘Not very impressed,’ are you kidding?! Are we talking about the same Gloom here?!” Aurora was brought out of his trance almost immediately, looking incredulous.

“Unless there’s someone else in the world with the surname ‘Gloom’, I assume that we are,” Purple mutters, shoving his papers into the drawer, wheeling himself back over on his office chair.

“Well, his parents, probably. Okay, okay, but that’s beside the point! You’re meeting with him?!” Aurora practically shouted. Purple gave him a wary look, taking the moment to consider what reaction he may get in response if he had said “Yes-”

“But it’s only for an interview, nothing happens with these. Again, I’m not expecting much, from some celebrity named ‘Wallis Gloom’ or anybody else,” Purple pauses, playing with a pen before looking at Aurora, chuckling to himself. “If it’s someone like the leader of Stratoverse, or Inverse, maybe then I’ll be a bit nervous. But all that Gloom is is a magician. He’s no less than that- But I’d be rude to assume he’s nothing more.”

“I guess you’re right.. But still, do you think you can get an autograph for me? Please!” Aurora begged, looking excited out of his mind. Purple pauses for another moment before sighing, giving up.

“Sure Aurora, I’ll see what I can do.”

When Purple said he wasn’t expecting much, he wasn’t kidding. He truly didn’t see anything good or bad in Wallis Gloom, but he respected his position. He was more famous than him, at least, and gaining the respect of the people was everything in this society. So, in more ways than one, he was a very successful man, moreso than Purple. So, he can respect his lifestyle, at least.

Purple buzzed the bell to the gates of Wallis Gloom’s mansion. This place looks as extra as his show outfits are, Purple thought dryly. At least he was dedicated. He waited a moment, before he heard a gruff voice through the speaker, asking his name and business. He gave the needed information, and after it seemed that the gruff voice had gotten confirmation, the gates had opened.

Upon walking through, he noticed that the garden appeared to be very well-kempt, as well as the inside of the house. He felt sorry for the poor soul whom had to keep everything tidy around here. Walking inside, hey zeph can you write the rest of this for me thanks

Yeah sure i’ll take it from here

Walking inside, he was shocked to see a strange tiny gremlin with blue hair- Wait no, that…. That was… A human! A human man- Wallis didn’t look like this on the television that didn’t exist… Photoshop, maybe?? Taking a step forward, he bit his lip, unsure if he should make his presence known.

“Uh… Excuse me? Are you Wallis Gloom??”

The gremlin froze, entire frame trembling as he turned to the grape man, eyes- Eye? Purple wasn’t sure due to the eyepatch- Alight with a frenzied hunger that rattled through the pleasant home. The air turned cold, the sun outside hiding behind its cloudy lovers, as the tiny, tiny man took a slow inhale.

Purple had to resist the urge to run, that one yellow orb staring straight into his soul like a lazerbeam. Fear shot through him, his knees faltering slightly… This…. This was what true fear was.

The whole world seemed to fall still, the eye contact maintained for an approximate one minute thirty two seconds, as someone far off a man let out a single yell of distress. Finally, Purple managed to utter out a sentence, throat parched thanks to some distant force.

“Who…… Who are you…!??”

The man let out a small chuckle, like fingernails on chalkboard, eye glinting. “...I go by many names,” He whispered, voice from a thousand mouths. “Niak………...Joey…………… Some even call me…………..” He tilts his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “.....Parsley………..”

“What are you here for?! Where- Where’s Wallis?!!”

The creature didn’t respond, only reacting by reacking down into the floor, his hand clipping through thanks to some unknown magic, and Purple could only watch in horror as he pulled a handful of…. Of….. Of DIRT from the spaces between reality.

“...No…. No, Oh god, please no….” he croaked, slowly shaking his head. He just wanted an interview, not this!! Anything but this!!

Alas, his pleas went unheard, the being slowly lifting the brown, dirty, dirty dirt to his mouth, a snake like tongue darting out to taste the delectable morsels of Earth. With a throaty giggle, he painstakingly shovelled it into his mouth, jaw cracking with effort. Purple let out a bloodcurdling scream, as the beast turned to face him, dirt dribbling from his face to the floor, before once again clipping through.

“WHY are you DOING THIS?!!” Purple let out with a broken cry, tears streaming down his face.

Joeyniakparsley put his hands together, smiling softly at the scientist. “Well Professor…. You see....”

He takes a step back, his image flickering as though a hologram. He began to fade… Fade from existence. Just as Purple thought he could bare no more, the beast spoke.

“The writers were really fucking bored.”

With a piercing whistle the figure collapsed into tiny grains of dirt, suddenly shooting towards Purple like a plague of locusts. He opened his mouth to scream, squeezing his eyes shut-

“Hey, uh, are you going to stand out there forever?? You were meant to be here like, 5 minutes ago.”

Purple’s eyes snapped open as he took in the scene before him- He was outside, a very pissy looking Wallis Gloom standing before him, hands on hips.

“I-I, uh…. I…” Purple stammered, glancing around nervously- What had just happened…? “I thought-”

“Yeah yeah whatever, hurry inside, I’ve got another public appearance at 2pm sharp and I don’t want to be held up,” The magician spun on his heels, strutting inside and leaving the befuddled Professor to gawk at his retreating form from the front doorstep.

He shook his head- He must have zoned out and imagined it all… Well, whatever, he needed to just get this over with. Following the star, he took the time to take a couple of calming breaths… It was fine, and just like his daydream, the whole place was immaculate… How weird. Maybe it was sleep deprivation… But it was okay now. He was safe. Just a little while longer and he could- Wait…. No….

“Oh, by the way, you should watch your step,” Wallis muttered, pausing with one foot on the step, an unseen wind ruffling his blonde locks. He turned, meeting Purple’s terrified gaze with a wide grin, single yellow eye gleaming with unbridled amusement.

“...Someone left their dirt on the floor.”

~~The end.~~

#gloomverse #mod purple #mod wallis #story #ask 2 tag #unsanitary //

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maryenette-writes · 8 years

Text

Advice [Jason Todd x Reader]

Anon requested: “Can you do a imagine where Jason falls for a OC member of young justice? (Congrats on hitting 500 followers🎉)”

A/N: Back from the dead and super slow updates on the requests. Anyways, it’s meant to say ‘reader’

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 885

[S/H/N] : Superhero Name

MASTERLIST

Being the next Robin was difficult as there was a lot to follow. Since Robin was a ‘founding member’ of the Young Justice team there were expectations, and sometimes Jason couldn’t meet those expectations. He wasn’t a carbon copy of Dick–now going by the hero name ‘Nightwing’. He was his own hero.

It was true he wasn’t an acrobat like Dick, meaning he couldn’t be as flexible or perform some of the moves Dick had, but he tried. He really did. He tried incredibly hard to live up to those expectations.

There was one member of the team that he wanted to impress the most; [F/N], also known as [S/H/N].

From the very first day Batman introduced him to the team, she had welcomed him. She was the newest member of the team before he came so she understood well how difficult it may be to adjust. Of course, she was the one who was truly alone. Jason had Dick but she didn’t know any other vigilante, yet she still managed to make her own place in the team.

Her effort for the team was something he admired greatly. She was funny, kind of clumsy and a little bit of a dork, and she certainly wasn’t the best fighter but she made up for it with her determination and immense loyalty. She was a wonderful person to be with, and the more time he spent with her, the more Jason realized he may have… developed feelings for her.

Currently, they were sparring in the training room. [F/N] always complained about how she could never beat him, which he found funny. Not many could beat him, not when he was trained by the Batman of Gotham City.

After their fifth round, which ended in her miserable defeat… again, [F/N] groaned and exclaimed, “what’s the point of doing this? I know I’m going to lose.”

Jason chuckled as he helped her up. “What can I say, I’m just that good.”

“You weren’t that good when we were training with Black Canary.” [F/N] scoffed, smirking slightly. Jason gasped and glared at her.

“Hey! I was just not on my best game yesterday!” he protested, pointing at her accusingly.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” she laughed. “Anyways, I’m hungry. Wanna grab a bite?”

“Wally destroyed the kitchen two days ago–”

“No, not here, out in town.” she corrected, already heading to the showers. A blush made its way up to Jason’s cheeks.

“Town?” he repeated, feeling flustered. As in… a date?

“Yeah.” [F/N] stopped walking and turned to him with a frown, oblivious to the full meaning of her words. “So, are you in or out?”

“S-Sure!” Jason answered. smiling.

“Cool! Meet me in an hour.”

As soon as she was out of sight, Jason began to panic. He didn’t know if she meant the outing as a simple, friendly outing or a date. He couldn’t deny he would like the latter much better. It was hard to ignore the rapid beating of his heart whenever she was around. He was shocked he managed to still be her closest friend even with all these feelings, but he couldn’t imagine not seeing her smile or hearing her laugh ever again.

With a sigh, he decided to get ready for his… he didn’t even know what to call it, but first, he needed advice, and he knew just the person to go to.

“So, let me get this straight; you like [F/N] but you’re not sure if she likes you back?” Dick summarized, his grin widening when Jason nodded. “I am so proud of you!”

“W-What?” Jason stammered, shocked at the reaction.

“You like someone! This is amazing, you’re growing up so fast–”

“Seriously?” Jason rolled his eyes and glared at Dick. “Look, if you don’t have any advice, then I’m leaving!”

“Woah, woah okay, calm down Rob.” Dick said, raising his hands. “Okay… let’s see… if you’re not sure, why don’t you charm her?”

Jason frowned. “Charm her? How do you charm her?”

Dick smirked. “Here’s how…”

Jason checked his watch for the tenth time in the last minute and adjusted his sunglasses again. Any minute now, [F/N] would arrive.

"Hey Rob!"

Jason's jaw dropped when he saw her. He had never seen her in a dress before but god did she look good. More than just good, in fact. Way more than that.

"Sorry, did you wait too long?" she apologized, playing with her hair nervously. "The girls wouldn't let me leave, I had to go through a dozen outfits before they deemed one appropriate."

"It's fine." Jason said, gulping.

[F/N] smiled gratefully and took a step back to eye him. "You cleaned up well."

"Thanks." Jason uttered, then he remembered Dick's words and added, "you look... uh... beautiful, as always."

He swore he saw her blush before she glanced down at her feet and said, "oh, thank you!"

Seeing her reaction, Jason smiled proudly. "Should we go?" he suggested, gaining a lot more confidence.

"Of course!" [F/N] stated, her cheeks still red. Before he could talk himself out of it, he grasp her hand tightly and led her towards the diner they both planned to go to.

It was time to put Dick's advice to the test.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #young justice #nightwing #dick grayson #richard grayson #dc #dc comics #dc x reader #dc comics x reader #dc imagine #dc comics imagine #jason x reader

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abakersquest · 8 years

Text

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - THE STORM OF THE CENTURY

With the somewhat turbulent weather of the floating isle, it would take three to four more hours to safely fly to Stormyard. It may not have been much in the way of time, but it was certainly a welcome break to the embattled warriors.

“So they kept me around to maintain my own invention,” Poda answered, sipping the tea Wistea had made him. He smiled not only at the sweetness of the Planaetian’s take on tea, but the atmosphere in the space she’d found to work and sleep in. He’d told her it was meant for storage but she insisted it was perfect for her needs. He didn’t know what to think when that large supply cart of the ship’s new crew rolled in, but seeing her turn a glorified closet into something better stocked than most apothecaries in just a day was certainly a sight to behold.

Not to mention her amazing use of space and beaded wall hangings.

“So then this was a prototype for the Aegis?” Wistea asked.

“Yes, for test flights at first, then I was going to give it as a gift to the empress. That, and my time aboard the God’s Fortune, are why it has such a homey interior. The Aegis was always going to be a tool of peace, a way of connecting our disparate nations across not only the vast distances between us, but the walls we built around ourselves… Both literal and spiritual.”

“I cannot imagine what it must be like to have lived since the dawn of intellect itself. What you must think of us…”

Poda laughed, it a raspy sort of noise appropriate to his age. “I think you’re all astonishing. The way the young and ambitious rise from beneath what the old have built to say ‘that was good, but this will be better!’ Living long enough to see bright children become stars in their own right? It’s always been a blessing… Even if it does attract the occasional ANNOYING GRASSHOPPER.”

Argus, outside the room and elbow deep in an opened floor panel sighed and rolled his eyes. “I already apologized. Wistea you heard me apologize, right?”

Wistea sipped her tea and spoke over the rim of her cup. “I heard you make a long speech that we were all supposed to assume was an apology, yes.”

Argus continued working as he spoke. “Just because I saw through that ridiculous absent-minded genius act you put on…”

“Like that’s an excuse for always following me around,” Poda huffed. “I barely had a moment’s peace with you constantly yelling about how you ‘knew the truth about me.’”

“BUT I WAS RIGHT!” Argus shouted, slamming the floor panel back into place. “You were the original isopoda the legends spoke of, just as I’d theorized!”

Wistea put her cup down and looked at Argus, her tone calm and sincere as she said, “Yes, but did being right about him help anyone?”

The trained instinct to argue raised his hand and filled his lungs before any possible counter could be formulated. He stopped, sought the words, and realized the only possible conclusion. Wistea had soundly put him in his place.

He said nothing. He simply bowed his head to his fellow scholars and set about his next task.

Poda laughed. “See, look at that, you’re what? Fifteen? And here you are changing the entire way of thinking for an old and practiced scholar.”

“Oh! N-no I do not think I did that much.”

“Trust me, dear. You just changed his life with one question.” He finished off his tea. “You live long enough, you can spot that sort’ve thing right away. Kinda like how I knew to come down here and ask you for this cup of tea.”

Wistea tilted her head curiously, “Why?”

“Quiet moments like this don’t come often enough when you’re fighting to survive.” He pushed his cup back toward her. “Best to make them count.”

Wistea hummed in agreement and happily poured him another cup.

---

Wally plopped back into the bed with a relieved groan, the Stellar Flare may have been impossibly light for its size, but it was still good to get it off his back and lie down. Fighting two Halcyon Knights so soon after getting back on his feet had been more exhausting than he’d care to admit. He’d have to use whatever time it took to reach Stormyard to rest up and finish recovering.

Rozzi, who’d shown him to one of the still empty bunkrooms on the ship, stayed in the doorway for a moment. As the door started to close on its own, she bit her lip and quickly walked forward, dropping onto the bed beside him.

For one moment it felt as if his entire muscular system had been spontaneously replaced with concrete, save for the fact he could still move and managed a somewhat nervous glance Rozzi’s way before focusing back on the dull silver ceiling above them. It wasn’t the first time they’d lied side by side, but the improvised sleeping conditions in Arborledan resembled the feelings of a hammock. As wallabies are all raised in pouches its only natural they’d feel safest sleeping in something hanging off the ground. Really, Wally and his family only slept in beds because they were a lot warmer.

As his head tried to sink into his own neck in a futile effort to allay the onset of bashfulness, he certainly felt a lot warmer.

Eventually Rozzi spoke, the soft tone something Wally hadn’t heard since they’d tried to fuse their magics together. “Wally… What do you think’s gonna happen to us after all this is over?”

“Well…” He started slowly. “I’d imagine we’d all go home, right?”

“I don’t mean all of us…” Her hand slid over to his and held it. “‘Us’ as in you and me. What happens to this when we win?”

Wally wasn’t entirely certain what his heart just did in his chest, possibly some manner of failed somersault, but it certainly didn’t feel good. He swallowed hard and managed to say “Oh”, just before his throat closed up.

“You’d want to go back to your bakery, right?”

It suddenly wasn’t nerves keeping him out of joint or drying out his throat, it was the total understanding of the strange emotions he’d felt at her side. It was that quiet little pain that comes with the realization that you might be happy now, but it could come crashing down with but one act.

“Do you…” She fidgeted to get the words out, it was so unlike her. “I mean… If you asked me to…”

“Rozzi,” he quietly interrupted.

She quickly turned away from the ceiling, seeing his soft, sympathetic expression and sad little smile. It got that much harder to blink back the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, a million terrible possibilities boiling in her thoughts all at once.

Wally forced himself to ignore both the obvious and empathic signs of her distress. He also buried his own doubt and shyness, pinning them under the unassailable truth in his heart. “I could never ask you to give up the Circus… Those people, they’re your family. You need them as much as they ever needed you.”

Something, possibly an ethereal aspect of her being, tightened for a knock down blow. Then she saw him shift to his side and put his other hand atop her own.

“That said? I’m…” A bit of timidity managed to escape along with his honest response. “I’m not sure I’d look as good in that outfit you all wear.”

Rozzi was so taken aback she had to sit up. “W-what?”

His confidence surged somehow, he didn’t question it. “Although two ‘Feat of Strength’ performers might get a bit redundant, I can probably take up acrobatics. That works in pairs, right?”

“Wally…” She searched for some sadness; some surrender in his eyes but only found that same honest and kind smile he wore in the best of times. She quickly shook her head, both to disagree and to shake off her surprise. “No… No, no I can’t. I can’t let you do that! You worked hard for that bakery! It’s your dream isn’t it?!”

He sat up slowly and laughed very slightly, scratching his chin. “Rozzi, that’s just a building. One that had a very sizable hole in it when I left” He joked, trying to ease the tension of the moment for the both of them. When he saw her calm down slightly, he continued. “It was nice having a place of my own, sure. Saving up for it was a chore, yes. But that’s not the part I loved. It was being in the kitchen, it was baking something for someone that’d brighten their day, or save them from going hungry. I can do that anywhere there’s a stove…” A memory flashed across his mind and he laughed. “Heaven knows you all could use a good chef with that cricket running your kitchen!”

It must have happened when his eyes were closed, because when he opened them again Rozzi was mid-spring. Her arms outstretched, she caught him in a tackle of a hug, pinning him flat on his back while she buried her face into the crook of his neck. He demanded his body ignore the dull ache in his ribs as he returned the embrace.

The quiet reflection was brief, as Rozzi started to giggle a bit.

“What? Already picturing me in clown make-up?”

She shifted slightly to look up at him and shook her head, “it’s just funny you mentioned Cri’tet. Seeing as how he’s the cause of all this.”

“Oh so HE’S the one who threw this magic god sword at me, he always did look a little shifty.”

She stopped herself from laughing as best she could. “Stop that, I’m trying to be serious.”

He made a lock and key gesture in front of his lips.

“It was in the kitchen back home… You’d been a nervous, fidgeting mess the whole time until you got into the kitchen and started reprimanding Cri’tet. I thought it was just you showing off at first, but then you started teaching him.” She closed her eyes as she recalled the scene. “You were so confident and controlled you lit up the room… It was the first time I ever understood what people meant when they said that. Also the first time I felt the way I do about you now.”

Wally reflected on the scene quietly for a moment before he spoke. “You remember back when we first met Blackeye and he tested me and said ‘my fire burned away falsehood’ or something like that?”

She nodded slowly.

“So that partly means I’ve always been a good judge of character even before I could use magic, it just got better as I went along.”

“So you’re sayin’ you always knew you could trust me then?”

“I’m saying that the fact I got lost in your eyes the first second I saw you meant a lot more than I thought it did.”

She snorted uncontrollably into a short laugh. “You are never allowed to be that corny in front of anyone else, y’ hear?”

“I’ll certainly do my best, ma’am”

“You’d better.” She tapped him firmly on the chest for emphasis, catching him off guard and causing him to wince visibly. She gasped as she recalled his chest injury and instantly propped herself up on her arms above him. “Oh! Oh Wally I’m so sorry!”

“Rozzi, if a hammer the size of my torso couldn’t break any of my ribs, I doubt you could do any more damage.”

“Still, I should’ve-”

The pneumatic door hissed loudly as it opened, either because it hadn’t been properly oiled, or simply because it knew the scene called for a loud and abrupt noise. Hector walked in saying something neither of them heard as the realized exactly how provocative the scene must’ve seemed to him.

“OH! Um, I… I probably should’ve… I’m terribly sorry to-”

Rozzi instantly sat up and glared angrily at him.

He held up his hands and backed away slowly. “N-now Rozzi, there’s no need to be angry. I’ll just… I’ll turn around and leave and pretend I didn’t see anything so you two can-”

She hopped onto her feet and stomped toward him.

“Rozzi please remember this ship is brand new and we can’t go putting all sort of holes-” His back hit the wall outside. He winced, knowing that he was well and truly cornered by the fast approaching red panda.

When nothing happened, he opened eyes to see her standing before him with a rather happy smile. She playfully jabbed him in the ribs and said, “You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood right now, or you’d be wearin’ your tail as a hat.”

He watched in silent shock as she almost skipped down the hallway toward her room, humming some tune to herself.

When he finally turned back toward Wally he spoke in the hushed awe of someone who’d just survived a terrible accident unharmed. “Good heaven’s Wally, whatever you did just saved me the beating of a lifetime…”

Wally sat up from the bed and, with a strange sort of smile, rubbed the back of his head. “I’m… Pretty sure I just proposed…”

Hector looked back down the hall as Rozzi just turned the corner with a bit of a pirouette. “… That’d do it.”

---

The God’s Providence shook hard and tilted abruptly as it made its final approach toward the city of Stormyard. Through its metal hull its passengers could hear the almost constant sound of thunder.

“IT’S LIKE TRYIN’ TO SAIL INSIDE A DAMN ROCK QUARRY!” Blackeye shouted. “I’M GONNA HAVE TO SET HER DOWN!”

“THERE’S A CLEAR SPOT! THIRTY DEGREES PORT!” Polly shouted back.

The captain pressed down hard on the blue button in the center of the wheel that sent his voice all across the ship. “EVERYBODY HANG ON, THIS LANDIN’S GONNA NOT JUST BE MY FIRST BUT A ROUGH ONE!”

Captain Blackeye was no stranger to fierce winds, but he was far more used to having even the vague promise of something solid under his ship. He couldn’t lift his sails and worry more about the rolling waters, here the wind was all, and the fast approaching ground a danger. With throttle controls in his right hand and the wheel in his left, Blackeye slalomed the ship, dropping and raising the spin of the props on either side, cutting through the wind shear like a leaf as they descended. With a stomp to a paddle by the wheel’s base, landing skids jutted from the bottom of the God’s Providence. They did as well as their name implies as the ship skidded along the cloud coated earth to an eventual, if somewhat startling halt.

Gan was the first off the cargo bay ramp, a giddy grin about his beak as he turned around the ship and met Stormyard face to face. “Wow! I ain’t ever been this close to Stormyard before! All the flights into the city are done with the help of the big fliers; they don’t mind all the weather at all! Father always said I shouldn’t try getting to close, even if I could deal with all the wind and lightning because the guards’d eat me up!”

“He’s not joking,” Rozzi said. “They’re awfully big fellas with dagger worthy claws on their hands n’ feet. Had to deal with’em last time I brought my circus here, especially since we had some Sau-… Oh.” Rozzi slowly turned to Hyla, a bit of worry in her eyes.

The young frog put on a brave face and smiled to her friend to ease her concerns. “I’ll be fine Rozzi. There’s nothing in there I haven’t dealt with before. Although,” She tapped Wally on the shoulder just as he passed by. “Our Flarebearer might want to brace himself; Stormyard can be quite the assault on the senses.”

“Hell, just from the racket and winds coming in I can tell the place lives up to the name.”

“Y’ don’t know the half of it Mister Walter.” Blackeye said, carrying Rollo Poda on his shoulder.

Wally would’ve said something about that if it weren’t for the fact it was the only logical choice. Poda could get them to Stormstone Keep so he had to come along, and Blackeye’s shoulders were the broadest perch available. The small Insicai would look rather silly riding on his back. Those thoughts however flitted about his mind as he turned the corner of the ship and got his first look at Stormyard.

First he saw tall thin pagodas of stone and metal, their edges coated in what looked like gold, gleamed brightly in an almost constant shower of lightning. This was merely the opening entrée to a feast for the eyes that was the massive swirling vortex of pitch black clouds behind them. The occasional explosion of lightning inside the spinning storm created a collage of colors in the dark clouds; bathing the city below it in an almost kaleidoscopic light.

“It settles during the day, but surges at night. I never did figure out how or why.” Poda began. “Stormstone and skystone are offshoots of brightstone you see, they were created when I was cooling the Stellar Flare. Skystone is benign enough; it floats and mimics the colors of the sky around it. Stormstone absorbs energy like nothing you’ve ever seen and creates all manner of clouds. When the two are combined, powered by the Lock Bolt, you basically have a massive generator of weather that contributes greatly to the world. It’s some of my finest work, if I do say so myself.”

“So then without it,” Argus posited. “The different purity levels of the skystone that make up the island would cause it to tumble out of control and with it the stable weather of Mondia.”

“We can’t let that happen!” Gan flapped his wings in distress.

“Calm down Gan,” said Hector. “We won’t let that happen. Now, how do we reach the Lock Bolt?”

Poda pointed his walking stick toward the massive tempest. “There’s a safe path I mathematically calculated that will take us through the storm. I marked the entry with a landmark but… Someone went a built a city around it. We’re looking for a tall lamppost with a blue light. From there it’s a simple yet terrifying walk.”

“Not sure that qualifier was at all necessary, sir.” Argus grumbled.

“Maybe we can ask the local authorities for help?” Wally asked. “It would make the search faster.”

No one disagreed, and with a press of a button on the ship the cargo bay door rose and the fog rock emitters cloaked the ship.

“Everyone remember where we parked now.” Poda joked.

The path to the city’s gate was flanked by more ornate golden towers, steaming in the cold night air as errant strikes of lightning were drawn away from where people walked. Gan’s head was on an almost constant swivel, fascination glinting in his eyes just as bright as the flashes that snapped around them.

“That’s far enough!” shouted someone ahead of them. “Stormyard’s closed up for the night, no visitors!”

“It’s a bit of an emergency,” Wally called out, peering at the stranger in the distance, a flash of lightning finally illuminating him.

It was a falcon Orni’Hulan, his armor made from treated red leather plates and broad metal studs. His hands rested on the grips of two katar hanging off his hips. “I’ve heard THAT one before. Look there’s a safe spot east of here; if you run you can make it and camp out until morning.”

“A stubborn guard, who’d’ve called that,” Rozzi quipped sarcastically.

“I got this,” Blackeye said before clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. “BARBATUS IS A LOW DOWN, EGG SUCKIN’ SCOUNDREL WITH ALL THE CLASS OF A DUNG HEAP IN SUMMER!”

The guard recoiled in shock at the great white shark’s bellow, looking up to the sky in abject terror as a terrific and horrible noise seems to roar out from above them all. “W-WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” The guard shouted. “NOW HE’S MAD!”

The great figure cut through the thunderous night air like a catapulted boulder, crashing hard against the ground with all the intent of one as well. The constant cloud cover on the ground was dispersed violently by his so-called landing. His wings were a mess of broad black and white speckles and his armor was forged steel around his torso that looked as if it’d almost been poured into a mold to fit him and only him. At full height he stood almost as tall as Captain Blackeye himself. In each hand this gargantuan bird held long and deadly hook swords whose glow disregarded all other sources of light.

“ALRIGHT,” the enormous bearded vulture Orni’Hulan bellowed. His normal speaking voice was a timber shaking boom, his sharp talons clacking loudly on the unseen stone path as he approached. On his beak a crack ran up to his nostrils where a streak of black feather lead the onlooker straight to his horrifying eyes, the whites of which were instead a deep and disturbing red. As he scanned the group the large billowing plumage on his head made him seem even more imposing. “WHO’S THE DEAD FELLOW NEEDS ME TO SHOW HIM THE WAY?”

“ME, Y’ GREAT FEATHERY EXCUSE FOR A RIGGER!” the captain shouted.

The towering bird recoiled and narrowed his eyes through the darkness just as a flash of lightning illuminated the voice’s owner. “… WELL PLUCK MY HIDE AND MAKE ME A PILLOW! CAPTAIN!” He charged forward forcing Gan, Wally, and Rozzi to dive out of his way as he crashed against Blackeye with a hug and bone rattling laughter. “BEEN A MOON’S AGE SIR!”

Blackeye hugged him back, “GREAT T’ SEE YA STILL WINGIN’ ABOUT!”

The guard at the gate stood shell shocked at the sight when Rozzi walked into his view and winked. “Still not gonna let us in?”

---

Barbatus Tridae had served under Captain Blackeye for almost forty years, so when the captain asked for help searching the stormward side city for a lamppost with a blue light, he got it in spades. It was easier than they’d initially thought searching would be, as the city always shuttered up at night when the storm was stronger and more dangerous. The great array of lightning rods above were a considerable aide, but lightning has a way of being so unpredictable that it can still make it through and strike some innocent citizen.

It also meant the search had to be done on foot.

Everyone split up and searched sections of Stormyard with the help of the local authorities. Those closest to the storm were witness to great stones being flung out of the churning clouds and into a mesh fencing that surrounded the stationary cyclone. The mineral offshoots were a byproduct of the storm’s magical nature as a unique and sturdy ore was forged in its tumult that could be processed into all manner of materials. The sale and trade of said materials made up large percentages of Orni’Hu’s economy.

Blackeye, still carrying Poda, was joined by his old friend Barbatus on their search.

“SO IT’S A BRIGHT BLUE LIGHT ON A LAMPPOST?” The bellowing vulture asked. “CAN’T SAY I’VE EVER SEEN IT.”

Poda winced. “Why does he talk like that, I thought bearded vultures were primarily silent.”

“Not this one, loudest fella I ever met. Never did figure out why. Barba! We’ll split up here, just shout if you see anything.

“AYE AYE, CAP’N!” the great bird saluted and headed down another side street.

“Heaven help the nearby glass.” Poda mumbled.

“So Poda, what makes y’ think the lamppost is still standin’?”

“Two things, captain. One, I built it. Two, it fits the aesthetic. There’d be no reason to take it down.” Poda poked the end of his walking stick into Blackeye’s cheek. “Unlike with someone who tore down my lighthouse.”

“Ah… Well I thought it best-”

“To tear down part of my great work, yes. I know.”

Blackeye sighed. “Would it help if I said, ‘sorry’?”

“It’s a start.”

Above them a ball of fire exploded like a firework, lingering as a ball of dancing light slowly drifting down. As the others gathered at the source of the fire burst they saw Wally in the middle of a field of jioon, gently herding the large friendly livestock away from the well aged, once austere, lamppost.

The blue furred, six footed behemoths made low yet unconcerned moos as the wallaby corralled them. Rozzi watched from the fence as a member of the city guard calmed the field’s owner. The sight of one of the younger jioon propping itself on it’s third set of legs, draping the first over Wally’s shoulders and licking his face was certainly a stark contrast to the terribly storm at their backs.

Hector leaned on the fence next to Rozzi. “I get the feeling he’s done this before. Just look at the smile on his face.”

Rozzi laughed softly. “I can picture him in a big straw hat with a milk bucket, and a full grown jioon on his off shoulder.”

“You know you could be helping me instead of just watching!” Wally called out laughing as he finally managed to get the jioon calf off him.

When Blackeye approached he set Poda down on the other side of the fence. He quickly hobbled over to the lamppost and stuck his walking stick into an unseen plughole in the base. The distinct blue light at its top turning into a narrow beam that shone toward the storm.

“There we are… Now, we just follow that and we should get to Stormstone Keep no problem.”

As they left and Blackeye said his goodbyes to Barbatus, no one quite knew what to expect. The winds picked up more and more the closer they got, the roar almost deafening and the gale just shy of picking them up off their feet. Rozzi tried to shield them all from the wind to no avail, the semi-mystical nature of the storm was too much for her to handle. With no choice and only a bright blue beam of light to guide them, the intrepid warriors soldiered on through the tempest.

After a half hour of trudging through the worst weather any of them had ever experienced they finally emerged on the other side of the storm wall. There they came across a calm field of bright green grass, the brilliant light of two moons directly above them, and an army of Shades lying in wait.

Beyond the shadowy foot soldiers stood a massive black tower with veins of brilliant light constantly dancing on its surface, and in its doorway, garbed in the black and red armor of a Halcyon Knight stood a male skink Sauroian, his long dark blue tongue the iconic symbol of his breed. He cackled madly as they emerged from the storm, almost doubling over. “THE LOOKS ON YOUR FACES! AHAHAHA, PRICELESS!!!”

<[Chapter 30]–[Index]–[Chapter 32]>

#A Baker's Quest #Writing

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