#also I NEED that eye patch to show up in the gem store again SOON

[starstuf]

How can these screenshots be so perfect?! They look like such a superhero team, riding into action on their faithful life-bond mounts which probably communicate with them telepathically.

Beast Riders of Elona™ premiering Saturdays this fall on Toonami.

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

Drake's Diary ch.26 -I Like Me Better

The Royal Romance canon from Drake's POV

Words: 5415

This one got a bit away from me, so I'm sorry it's kinda long...I do hope it's worth it :)

Also, the song "I Like Me Better" by Lauv just kept repeating itself over and over in my head while writing this. In fact, it can probably be applied to several upcoming chapters.

 Master List (Catch Up Here)

Drake sighs, looking around this high-end jewelry store looking for present for Liam. New York City…it was just as big and glamourous as he remembered. He has mixed feelings about this city that Emma calls home…but at the very least, he should be able to find a good wedding gift for Liam here. After all, the city has everything. Surely there must be something Liam is lacking…. right?

  He walks around the cases, admiring wrist watches, pocket watches, necklaces…then his eyes fall on the glittering display of diamond engagement rings. He swallows, hard. There’s no way he can ever afford one of these, and only one woman he desperately wants to give one to. A sales clerk came over to him with a bright smile.

“Is there anything you would like to see closer?”

All of them.

He cleared his throat, his eyes landing on one in particular.

“Ah, excellent choice. You have exquisite taste.” The clerk removes one with a simple white gold band and a princess cut diamond that stands on its own, sparkling brighter than all the rest.

“Wow, that’s…”

“It’s 10 carats, it’s a D on the GIA scale, also IF in quality, which makes it a very rare, very sought-after diamond. You really won’t find one better, except maybe for a higher carat, which I can show you a few of those as well…”

“Drake?”

Drake jumped so high in the air, he was suddenly at a different case altogether. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, God, what is she doing here? How does she appear everywhere I wind up?? Okay, pull it together, Walker and she’ll never know what you were just dreaming about.

“Oh, hey, Rose.” Can she hear my heart thumping right now? It seems louder than normal…

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a store. Anyone can go into a store.”

She rose an eyebrow. “Sure, but you’re the last person I expected to see looking at necklaces that require a down payment.”

After casting a quick glance around the mostly-empty store, he gave an apologetic look to the clerk that was showing him the ring, and she winked, quickly replacing it and walking away completely unseen by Emma.

And now she thinks I’m actually proposing to Rose. Shit.

 Seeing that he was now indeed in front of a case of necklaces, he sighs, half in relief, and half in frustration. “Alright, you caught me. I’m looking for a wedding gift for Liam.”

“In a jewelry store?”

“What? You don’t think he’d want one of those?” He scanned the case quickly and pointed to the first piece he saw that was not completely feminine, a gold medallion covered in so many gems that the gold is barely visible.

He could tell Emma was trying to smother a laugh. “You want to give Liam a medallion? Liam isn’t a pirate.”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Too much?”

“Oh, not if you’re also getting him a galleon and a parrot and an eye patch…”

“I can barely afford this medallion.” Drake broke in.

Which is code for there’s not a chance in hell I’ll ever afford that, or anything else in this store.

“Then, yeah. It’s a bit much.” Emma patted him on the shoulder.

He nodded, not surprised in the slightest that coming into this store was a bad idea, for multiple reasons. “Hmm…Back to the drawing board. So, did you just come here to shoot down my gift ideas, or are you looking for something?”

He watched her face fall. “I’m supposed to pick up Madeleine’s wedding ring.”

His mouth fell open. “Wow. That’s cold, even for her.”

What a fucking bitch. I already knew she was a bitch…well everyone knows she’s a bitch…but damn, she is definitely a bitch.

The jeweler waves her over to the counter. When she gives him Madeleine’s name, he rushes off and returns with a small box containing simple gold band.

Huh. “That’s it? I was expecting something more…”

“Elaborate?” She guessed.

“I was going to say pretentious.”

“I think it’s lovely. Simple, yet elegant. You’ve got to hand it to Madeleine. She’s always stylish.”

He saw the way she was looking at the ring longingly, detecting a note of sadness in her voice, and his heart dropped a bit.

Say something. “Shouldn’t it be covered in…I don’t know…diamonds?”

Now she broke into a smile. “You’re thinking engagement rings. Those are usually the sparkly ones.” She pointed over to the counter he had originally been at when she walked in.

“….Right.” He studies the ring avoiding eye contact with the sales clerk he originally spoke to, his expression going somber. “I guess their wedding’s coming up pretty fast.”

“Yeah…”

There’s that sad look again. She’s really upset about Liam marrying. God, my heart feels like it’s breaking right now. Stupid me, imagining for even one second that I would ever get a chance to marry her.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to put all that behind him. “We’ll find Tariq soon, Rose. We have to.”

“If we do, what will that mean for…us?”

Like I said in the beginning, there is no us.

Drake doesn’t quite meet her eyes when he replies. “It’ll be good news for you and Liam. You’ve had to live with this hanging over you for long enough.”

She gently placed her hand over his, curling their fingers around each other’s. “That’s not what I asked, Drake. Once my name is cleared…I can be with whoever I want.”

That’s true but…we all know who you’ll pick. Your face just said it all.

“I…I guess that depends on what you want, then, Rose.” He rubs the back of his neck, glancing around the store once again. “If you’re done here, do you want to give me a hand with Liam’s gift? He’s my best friend. I want to get him something good, but I think I’m in over my head here.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “Drake…are you inviting me on a shopping trip?”

“Don’t make me regret it.” He groaned.

“What I meant is, I would be honored to accompany you.”

“Come on then.” She follows him out the door. They try the pet store…

Emma grimaced. “I don’t know…”

Drake holds the yellow Labrador puppy in his hands out to her, its tail wagging. “Come on, Rose. Liam has always loved dogs.”

“Do you really want to make a puppy live with Madeleine?”

Good point. Didn’t think of that.

He slowly lowers the puppy back into its pen. “You’re safer here, pal.”

They try the furniture store. Almost as soon as Drake walks in, he spots the most perfect, leather, manly chair he’s ever seen in his life. He grinned walking right over to it. “This is it, Rose. A deluxe recliner, dual cup holders, over fifty massage settings…”

“Really? I’m sure Liam owns plenty of chairs.” She said skeptically.

He gave her a Look. “You’ve clearly never sat on the Cordonian throne. Let’s just say Liam’s gonna need back support after sitting on that thing.”

She laughed. “I’m not even going to ask how you know that…and I think we can do better than a dad’s dream chair.”

A dad’s dream chair?? What am I coming to??

Drake heaves himself out of the recliner, sighing.

“Unless you want it.” She teased.

“Nah. I’m not shipping that thing back to Cordonia.” But maybe there is one similar back home. Just can’t let anyone know I own a dad’s chair. Ever. At least, not until I’m actually a dad, but first…Gotta get the girl.

Not really paying attention he walked into the next store, shaking his thoughts of being married and having children.

“The hardware store? Seriously?”

Drake stares wistfully at a plasma cutter at the back of the shop. I mean, there could have been worse stores to walk blindly into…I guess.

“What would you even use that for? What would Liam use that for?”

Think, idiot, think.  “Engraving…medals? Come on, it’s a tool. Every guy appreciates a handy power tool…”

His gaze fell to her lips as she bit her bottom one. “Drake…it’s adorable how bad you are at this.”

He shook his head smiling ruefully. “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment.”

“I’m just glad I was here to witness this.”

“That makes one of us.” He frowned. I’m really making myself look like a complete idiot today.

She put her hand in the crook of his arm, nodding towards the door. “Come on. You look like you need a break.”

She leads Drake out of the store and to a bench down the block. They both slump onto it, exhausted.  He groaned. “Trying to find a present for this wedding is like torture.”

“I take it you’re not a fan of the usual wedding traditions.”

Drake runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. “I’ve got nothing against tradition. But there are nice, simple ceremonies, and then there are international engagement tours.”

She gave a soft smile. “So what would your ‘simple’ wedding look like?”

My wedding?

He gives her a thoughtful look. “Should I ask why you’re asking…” Not like it would even matter, I’d probably make myself look like a fool no matter what she says.

She winked. “Let’s just say I’m curious.”

He blushed and looked down at the ground. “I guess it’d be something small. A short reception and a ceremony, just a few friends and family…”

“Luckily, you only have a few friends and family.” She swatted his arm playfully.

He rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, Rose.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Let me guess. Your ring bearer would be…Little Bartie.”

Bartie…oh my…what a brilliant idea. And she thought of it…as though she’s thought of it before…“Huh. I hadn’t really thought about it, but you know…That’d be great.” He found himself grinning from ear to ear, and hers seemed to match.

“Imagine him in a tiny suit!” She squealed.

“Heh. Yeah, Savannah would be over the moon.”

“What about the best man? I vote for Liam. I bet he’d throw you the perfect bachelor party. Barbecue and stiff drinks galore. And he’d be good at speeches…He’d never embarrass you.” She pointed out.

He found himself completely mesmerized by the way her eyes were shining…and he had a strange feeling her smile had nothing to do with Liam, and everything to do with his idea of a small wedding. Hell, this is the first time anyone has ever asked what I want. “Hmm. Liam is a strong contender.”

Her eyes flit down to his lips. “That leaves one question. Who are you marrying in this scenario?”

Dare I imagine her walking down the aisle towards me?

“…Is it me?”

His eyebrows shot up. Goddamn it, how does she do that??

 “I…” A slight blush to his cheeks as he looks at her, half smiling, half surprised. Alright. I’ll bite.

 “Are you proposing to me, Rose?” He asked, his voice thick with desire.

She looks at him knowingly. “Trust me, if I were, you’d know.”

Of that I have no doubt. But until then…

“Then maybe that’s a question for another time.” He nudged her shoulder. “Enough daydreaming for now. I still need a present for Liam.” He sighs. “Liam has always been there for me, and…well, you know him. He always gives the perfect gifts.”

She chuckled. “It’s like his superpower.”

He nodded. “I just wanted to return the favor for once. But I’m stumped.”

“Relax, Drake. You just need to remember the secret to finding a good present. The secret is picking something unique to you.”

“If I get him whiskey, he’d probably laugh. Hell, I’d have to laugh at myself.”

She laughed heartily. “No, no. What I mean is, you know Liam better than anyone. You’ve been through thick and thin together. Anyone can get him something he’d enjoy, but what’d something you know he’d really appreciate?”

“I don’t know wh…” He breaks off suddenly, his gaze falling across something metallic in the window of a nearby antique store. Perfect.  “Wait. I’ve got it.” He leaps up from the bench and ducks into the store, picking up the object he’d noticed, an antique compass. This is beyond perfect. He quickly cashes out, then hurries back over to Emma, grinning. “This is what I’m giving Liam.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “It’s neat, but…why a compass? Are you worried Liam will get lost in the wilds of Cordonia?”

He shook his head. “He’s always had guards and royal staff around, so he’s never needed a compass. But they can’t always be there for him. Even I can’t always be there for him. If he’s ever out on his own, or if he ever feels like he’s losing his way, I thought it might be a nice reminder.��

Her gaze softened. “I get the feeling you’re talking about more than cardinal directions.”

Drake shifts his weight back and forth, glancing down at the compass. “Constantine was a decent king for years, but by the time he retired, he’d lost sight of what really mattered. Look at everything he put you and Liam through. I don’t ever want that to happen to Liam. So, I thought he could use a compass to follow. Something to remind him to stay true to what he believes in. What do you think? Too cheesy?”

She was looking at him with her intense gaze, the one he’s become so familiar with, the one that makes him actually think that at the end of all this, he will be the one she chooses. His heart flutters under that gaze and his future is full of possibilities he’d always been afraid to dream of.

“Drake…You’re a thoughtful guy under that gruff exterior.”

You would know. You bring it out in me.  “I’m just trying to look out for Liam.”

“I know, Drake. That’s what people who care about their friends do. Liam will love it.”

“I hope so.” He carefully tucks the compass into his pocket and lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank god that’s over with.”

She laughed, the sound of it ringing like a bell. “Now we just have to get through this United Nations party.”

Actually….. “It’s not until tonight. Why don’t we unwind for a bit? We just endured an eternity of shopping. I think we’ve earned it.”

She bit her lip again, a hint of a smile on her mouth. “Hmm. It could be fun to show you around the neighborhood…Sign me up for some relaxation!”

I love that she never says no. When it works to my advantage.

“That’s what I’m talking about. What’s our first stop?”

But Emma’s not even looking at him, and he follows Emma’s gaze and freezes, seeing an outfit in a neighboring shop window.

She grabs his arm in excitement “Oh. My. God. I promise I’ll get you a drink after we try one more store.”

Uh-uh. No way. “That is not happening.”

“All you have to do is try it on. Pleeease.” She begged

Oh god, she’s begging. I just….I can’t fight that!

“The things I do for your amusement.” He grumbles, following her into the store. The clerk brings him over to the changing room, and then brings the outfit. He puts it on and stares at himself in the floor to ceiling mirror.

Gotta admit…lookin good, Walker. And it’s not like she’ll ever let me walk out of here without it so…what’s that term? Flaunt it if you got it? Or is that for breasts? Butts? Ugh, who cares.

 He emerges a few minutes later in a dark red Henley, grey slacks, and to complete the outfit, sunglasses.

She whistled. “You’ve never looked hotter.”

His jaw dropped at her cat calling him. “You…you like this kind of thing?”

“I’m just saying it’s pretty flattering.” She runs a finger down his muscular chest.

Drake stretches experimentally. He frowns down at the Henley shirt. “It’s…comfy. I’ll give it that. I’ll buy this getup if you make good on that drink you promised me.”

“Deal. I know just the spot.” She announced proudly.

He nodded and went to the register, paying a bit more than he ever expected he would on clothes. But the look on Emma’s face…she looked like she could eat me up. And I would definitely let her.

She leads Drake through the mazelike streets to a familiar door…and into her old bar.

He looks around, his eyes widening in recognition. “Hey, I remember this place.”

“I haven’t been here since that night at Liam’s bachelor party. My old bar…at least it hasn’t burned down without me.”

He gave her a curious look. “Heh. Some things never change.”

“Yeah. Although there might be a few new wine stains on those cushions…”

A stifled yawn comes from behind the counter as the server comes strolling out of the kitchen, as if having all the time in the world.

“Good afternoon. Are you two looking for a tab—Oh my god. Emma???”

“Daniel!!!!” Emma ran up to him and practically knocked him over in a bear hug.

What the hell? Who the hell is this??

But they were only talking amongst themselves now. “What the heck happened to you? You just up and left!”

“It’s a long story…”

“You could’ve called! Or texted!”

“My cell phone coverage has been kind of limited in Cordonia…”

“You should probably switch plans.” Drake broke in, determined to find out who this guy was and why Emma was so excited to see him.

The guy just nodded and turned back to Emma. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. You look like you’re doing good”

Again, what the hell?

“Oh! I’m Daniel, by the way.” He holds his hand out to Drake.

Finally getting somewhere. Drake reaches out his own hand to introduce himself, fully planning on giving a very hard, very firm, handshake, make this ‘Daniel’ know he’s not intimidated. But before getting his chance…

“This is Drake…my hot date.” Emma wrapped her arms around Drake’s waist, catching him off-guard and immediately answering the question of whether Daniel was a threat.

He swallowed hard. “Uh…”

“You always did have good taste.” Daniel raked his eyes up and down Drake’s body and suddenly Drake knew why Daniel was not a threat.

“We’re not…I mean, I would…Nevermind.” No need to explain. I’m her hot date. Just go with it.

“Please follow me to the most romantic spot in the house!” Daniel escorts them to a booth that’s identical to all the others, except for a messy heart someone has carved into the table.

They were getting situated as a sharp voice rang out. “Daniel, what are you doing out there? I’ve got a sink full of dirty dishes that aren’t going to wash themselves.”

“We’ve got customers, boss! Look who just stopped by!”

The man steps out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on an apron. He frowns at Drake, then squints at Emma, until his eyes slowly widen in recognition. “You. I hope you’re not here looking to collect a paycheck. You walked out on me with only a day’s notice! On a Saturday!”

A third time. What the hell?

“Hey, watch your tone. That’s no way to talk to a customer.” Drake growled

“She used to work for me. I’ll talk to her however I like.”

Oh no he didn’t. What a prick.

“Really? You want to mess with a member of the Cordonian royal court?” Drake argued.

The manager freezes. “She’s…what?”

Emma leveled the man with her gaze. “It’s okay, Drake…I’m sure he wouldn’t insult a noblewoman on purpose. Right?”

Drake smirked as the man started fumbling nervously over his words. “Sorry, miss…err, madam. Err…milady?”

“Emma’s fine.” She told him

“I um, won’t disturb you any further. Enjoy your drinks.” He hastily retreats back to the kitchen.

Daniel speaks first. “Sorry about the boss. I wish I could say he’s having a bad day, but he’s just…like that. Can I get you two something to drink?”

“One whiskey. Neat.”

“The house special.” Emma winked.

“Coming right up!” He walks over to the bar and returns with their drinks a minute later, before leaving them to privacy.

Drake turned back to Emma and met a very curious expression on her face. “What happened back there, Drake? I never thought I’d see you play the noble card.”

His own expression turned sheepish. “Yeah, well, after everything the court has put you through, I figure you might as well get some use out of it. Courtly privilege is good at keeping jerks away…unless those jerks are also nobles.”

“I’ll remember that loophole.”

They both take a moment to enjoy their drinks, glancing around the mostly empty establishment.

The corners of Drake’s mouth turned up. “Heh. The last time we were here I thought you were just another waitress at another bar.”

“I thought you all were my last chance for a Saturday night tip.”

Drake raises his glass to her, grinning slightly. “I guess we’ve come a long way.”

A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “From strangers to…lovers?”

“We haven’t…” He trails off, swallowing hard, his heart pounding.

“No. But am I just a friend to you?” She was looking at him intensely again, he could tell she wanted him to say something, to agree, to do…anything. But he was tongue tied, because the truth was…she was never just a friend to him. And despite that fact, I’m still trying to push her away. Because I know it’s just a matter of time before she’s gone. Or….am I really just scared that she will actually choose me over Liam? No one’s ever done that before, and truthfully…it scares the shit out of me.  So, in reply, he clinks his glass against hers, trying to hide a smile.

Time to turn the conversation. “So, what was it like working here? Your old boss almost makes Olivia look warm and fuzzy.”

She looked around, a far off look on her face. “Honestly…it paid the bills. I didn’t love it, but if I hadn’t taken this job, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

He looked at her skeptically. “Right back in the same bar?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but this time I don’t have to serve the drinks. What about you? I’ve never heard any classic Drake work stories.”

“I don’t have a lot of them.”

“Then just give me the highlights. Best and worst jobs you’ve ever had!”

Drake takes another sip from his glass while he thinks. “Hmm. Best job was probably the summer I spent working in the royal stables.”

“You? A stable hand? That sounds like something out of a steamy romance novel. The handsome commoner with a heart of gold, mucking out the stables at the royal castle…”

What? I swear, only she would come with this stuff.

“My heart is made of…whatever hearts are made of, thank you very much.” He retorted.

She rose an eyebrow. “That’s exactly what the handsome commoner would say.”

He shook his head, smiling. “Sure, Rose.”

“So, what was your worst job?”

Ha. Can’t wait for this reaction. “Oh, that’s easy. The time Maxwell paid me to DJ one of his dance parties.”

“He had to pay you to DJ a party? Really?”

He blinked. “A Maxwell party. I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it for free. It took me days to get all the glitter off of me. And the music out of my head.”

“Too much fun for you to handle?” She asked sarcastically.

Drake looks at her with a haunted expression, shaking his head. “Glitter doesn’t belong in drinks, Rose. That’s a hill I’m willing to die on.” He tosses back the last of his whiskey.

“Looks like our drinks are running low.” She was eyeing their empty glasses.

“Then it’s probably time to get going. We have a party to be at.” Another boring diplomatic party where I have to pretend I’m not madly in love with this woman.

Emma waves Daniel over, and he hands her the bill. She leaves a twenty dollar bill next to her glass.

“Whoa. Feeling generous?” He was legitimately surprised by how much she left.

She shrugged. “It’s hard to earn tips on quiet days like this. He could use the cash.”

“What about him?”  Drake nods at the door to the kitchen, where her former manager is peeking out at the two of them. When he notices them looking, he clears his throat and ducks behind the doorframe.

Emma chuckled to herself as she wrote something on a napkin. “I’ll leave him a note that says…It doesn’t cost you anything to be nice.”

“Heh. Maybe he’ll take the hint.”

“Are you leaving already?” Drake looked up to see a crestfallen Daniel.

“Sorry, Daniel, but we have a party to get to.”

Daniel’s face fell. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Take care of yourself, Emma.”

“You too.” She gave him one last hug.

The manager barked from behind the wall. “Daniel, if you’re done shooting the breeze with our customers, that pile of dishes isn’t getting any cleaner!”

“…I’ll try.” Daniel grimaced, then head to the back of the bar.

“Come on, Drake. I know a shortcut that’ll get us back to the hotel in plenty of time.”

The sun has set by the time they leave the bar. She leads Drake to a pathway where the city’s lights glisten along the waterfront. He found himself chatting about her other miscellaneous odd jobs she had, her first apartment, her first roommate. He listened to everything she said, completely captivated at the way she lit up around him. When it was just the two of them, she could be just Emma, and it was obvious how much she liked that. Drake completely understands. It’s hard trying to impress the world, and he was glad he didn’t need to. Hell, he didn’t even need to impress her, they were just naturally drawn to each other. Everything about them was natural, and as he realized they’d been walking quite a while, he realized something else. Maybe…just maybe…she will choose me. This day has been amazing. Our whole friends to lovers relationship has been amazing. She’s amazing, and hell, I feel amazing when I’m with her. She has officially knocked down every single one of my walls.  I’m not going to fight this anymore. I just want to pull her in.

She stopped abruptly, and Drake looked around in confusion. “You sure this is a shortcut?”

She shrugged innocently. “Shortcuts are allowed to be scenic.”

“Heh. There’s a lot more to this place than I thought.”

“What do you mean?” She asked curiously.

“Liam’s bachelor party…I mean, his original one…was my first time in New York City. The movies don’t really do it justice. I mean, it’s big and noisy, but I like that people aren’t afraid to tell you what they think.”

“It’s all part of our New Yorker charm.” She laid her head on his shoulder, and he gently rested his head on top of hers.

“Thanks for taking me out here, Rose. I really needed a breather.” And around you I can breathe.

“Of course. I wanted to show you the most romantic view of the city.”

He lifted his head and turned to face the water. It was nice but…not the typical spot someone would think of. “This place? Not, I don’t know, the top of the Empire State Building?”

“A romantic view isn’t about where you’re standing. It’s about who you’re with.”

His breath hitches and he turns away from the waterfront to look at Emma and smiles softly. “Not a bad view.”

He holds his hand out to her, and she accepts it with a smile. Their fingers interlace, and Drake was overcome with a sensation he was unfamiliar with, yet he knows he’s felt it before, and with her. He kept trying to place his finger on it, but the words just wouldn’t form, and before long, they arrive at their hotel, situated right along the waterfront. Drake sighs. “Wish we could just stay out here instead of hanging out with a bunch of politicians.”

“Well, we still have a few minutes before we need to get ready.”

He slid his eyes in her direction. “What were you thinking?”

She took his other hand with her free one, and turned him to face her, as she stepped into his space. “I was thinking…about kissing you.”

Butterflies erupted in his stomach. “Rose…”

“Is that a no?” Undeniable sadness flashed in her eyes, and he let go of one of her hands, bringing it to gently cup her cheek in his palm.

“No.” He said softly. “Just…I don’t know what the hell you see in a guy like me. But I don’t want to question my luck. Not anymore.” He eliminates the space between them in an instant, his lips meeting hers in a desperate kiss. He pours everything into that kiss, all the emotions he’s been holding back from her, and when he pulls back to catch his breath, they’re both smiling.

She’s looking at him dreamily, and damn, he could get lost in those eyes. “Drake…Anyone would be lucky to be with you. But I’m especially lucky.”

He grins again. “I…I don’t know about that, Rose. But I’m glad you think so.”

He pulls her in by the small of her back, capturing her lips once again as she runs her hands through his hair, kissing her deeply. Again, and again they kiss, the world around them fading away, and Drake kept smiling all throughout, which caused her to smile as well, and he thought his heart may burst from happiness.

Eventually, reality sinks in and he pulls away, sighing. “If someone sees us like this, that could really complicate things for you, Rose. I don’t want to get you into another mess when you’re so close to clearing your name.”

“I don’t care what people think.” She told him boldly, and he gave a half hearted smile.

“Yeah, but I do. I could never forgive myself if I mess things up for you, Rose.”

Emma looks back at him doubtfully, but Drake doesn’t miss the glimmer of hope that remains in her eyes. “When this is over, then?”

When this is over…Shit, it’s almost here. Our new reality, whatever that may be.

Drake paces over to the railing and leans against it, searching for the right words. “I guess when this is over, you’ll finally be free to choose, Rose…” Just be honest with her. She’ll understand.

He took a breath. “And maybe some part of me is scared of that. I can’t offer you half as much as Liam could. Hell, I don’t know what I can offer you. But when the time comes…when those photos aren’t hanging over your head anymore…” He walks back over to her again, searching her eyes. “I’ll still be here.”

I’ll always be yours.

“So, we’ll talk then?” She whispered.

He leaned down and kissed her gently. “I’d like that. But right now, we’re about to be late to this party.”

She smiled at him now, and he smiled back, relieved that she understood he’s not going anywhere, that he is all in.

“You going to be okay in there?” She asked.

“Heh. After staring at gifts all afternoon, I didn’t think I could make through another highbrow get-together, but now…I guess some, err, time with you was all I needed.”

“I wouldn’t say no to more time alone with you.” She ruffled his hair and he ducked away, laughing.

“Maybe another night.”

“You know where to find me.”

Jesus, she’s got the fuck me now eyes going. I need to go.

“I’ll see you at the party, Rose. I don’t want to risk showing up to the United Nations in…this.” He gestured to his outfit.

“Good idea. I wouldn’t want your death on my conscience.” She teased.

Throwing caution to the wind, he drew her in for one last searing kiss, leaving them both breathless, before heading to their separate rooms.

As Drake looks for different clothes, he suddenly remembered what that feeling was that he’d had earlier in the night. He’d almost forgotten about it, but as he folded the Henley shirt, he found himself smiling yet again, because he remembered why that feeling belonged with her. Home.

  @annekebbphotography @carabeth @gardeningourmet @eileendannie @alesana45 @thequeenofcronuts @zigortega4life @drakewalkerfantasy

@friedherringclodthing

@notoriouscs @agent-bossypants @flowerpowell

@hrhdes @drakewalkerisreal @akrenich @feartheendlesssummer @moonlightgem7 @i-miss-trr @noey718-blog @snyggflicka @rhymesmenagerie @gibbles82 ​ @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @be-still-my-aching-heart @crookedslimecreatorpasta @whenyourheartskipsabeat @katedrakeohd @drakensworld

[e350tb]

Steven Universe: Marooned Together - Chapter Twenty-Three

(with thanks to @real-fakedoors​ for proofreading!)

Okay… testing, testing, one two three, is this thing working?

It is? Awesome.

Hi. My name is Jeff Fryman, second Mayor of New Earth, husband of Dockmaster Peedee Fryman and possessor of the largest comics collection still in existence. (Is that important? I think that’s important.) I’m making this log to mark the fifteenth anniversary of the foundation of New Earth.

It’s sort of hard to know what to feel about that. See, if it’s fifteen years since we founded New Earth, it’s fifteen years since we lost the Earth. Everyone who was alive back then lost someone, lost more people than anyone can image. I mean, Peedee lost his dad and Ronaldo, and… and I lost mom…

But on the other hand, nobody could have imagined how successful New Earth’s ended up being. We’ve got houses and electricity and clothing fabrication, and Lenny says we might have that food synthesizer by next year! We… we should all be dead! We should’ve eaten each other or something, but we survived!

So how do we mark this? Are we celebrating? Are we commemorating? I… what do I call this? What do we do?

I… I’ll get back to you.

“I just can’t think of anything!”

Jeff sat on the couch, clutching his head, as Peedee and Blue Pearl considered his brief rant. He had a week to go before the anniversary, and the poor Mayor had nothing. Peedee felt for him - his husband looked haggard and worn, his eyes rimmed from lack of sleep. He was clearly thinking hard about this - in fact, Peedee wondered if he was overthinking it.

“Maybe we should ask around?” Peedee suggested, “See what people wanna do? Maybe they just want to keep it low key, or maybe they want a party…”

“But if I do that, it’s not a surprise!” exclaimed Jeff.

Peedee nodded sympathetically.

“I don’t think you can do this as a surprise, honey,” he replied, “I… I think you better just let people know it’s happening.”

“It could bring up bad memories,” Blue Pearl added softly.

“Yeah, what Blue said,” nodded Peedee.

He shrugged.

“How about we take a walk around and ask people what they think we should do for New Earth’s anniversary? Maybe they’ll come up with something we can use. It’s worth a shot, right?”

Jeff scratched his chin, nodding thoughtfully.

“That could work,” he said, “I’ll talk to Stevonnie about it - they’d probably be up to help with that.”

He sat up, smiling and snapping his fingers.

“Yeah!” he said, “That’s perfect!”

The Diamond’s Lament was, to put it simply, a nightmarish excuse of a bar. On the outside, the wooden paneling was worn and any attempts at paint were peeling; it certainly leant itself to the tried-and-true vibe that was inherent in much of New Earth. However, within the creaky tavern doors -- there was an equally underwhelming bar, just like you might expect. It was only after a conversation with the landlord, who was consequently also the barkeep, that Stevonnie truly came to appreciate how many stories were told by the crooked floorboards, the dim lighting, the jaded look on the faces of many customers.

Simon, the landlord, was an old Londoner who was in his late fifties - when the world had ended, he had been in the British military. Those days were long past, and from his demeanor, Stevonnie could tell he didn’t miss it one bit. Now his job was to run the Diamond’s Lament, to grow vegetables and fruit under sun lamps in the back, to operate New Earth’s general store from a window at the southend of the ramshackle building. It was a busy life, but it kept his mind of things.

“My mind,” he said, “Has been uneasy since long before the Cluster. The work keeps my mind off things.”

They spoke for a while on Simon’s ideas for the anniversary - he admitted he had few ideas and would need time to gather his thoughts. Their conversation was interrupted by some new patrons - Commander Lewis and a couple of the Human Resistance. When he saw them, Simon’s expression darkened.

“Bloody fools,” he muttered, “Playing soldier.”

“What do you mean?” asked Stevonnie.

Simon shrugged.

“There were a couple of old military people on New Earth when it started up,” he replied, “Me, Franks, I think two other officers, couple of soldiers. Now me, I just wanted to put soldiering behind me; thought I might be able to have a decent night’s sleep if I did. But Franks, he was adamant that we had to ‘do something.’”

He shook his head.

“Franks is an idiot,” he said, “But his heart’s in the right place, deep down. It’s the others that scare me. Franks wanted to fight back and he’d take anyone willing - but a lot of the people he got…”

For a long pause, Simon studied his hands, reliving some sort of memory to which they were not privy. Judging by his expression, Stevonnie wasn’t sure they would want to be.

“Be on your guard,” he warned, “These are kids who think soldiering and uniforms are glamorous, being groomed by a bunch of hateful bastards who’d shatter every gem they could get their hands on. Keep your distance, kid.”

Stevonnie swallowed, looking back at the resistance members. One locked eyes with her - he grinned, slowly running a finger over his neck.

“Whatever this is,” Simon spoke up again, “It has to be a repudiation of everything those people stand for. I don’t care what else you do, but give them a good kick in the rear.”

“I’ll let Jeff know,” Stevonnie nodded, “Maybe we can make it a celebration of human and gem harmony?”

“I reckon that’d be a brilliant idea, kid,” Simon said, smiling.

Behind them, a cry rang out as the resistance members raised their glasses.

“To the glorious victory!” they cried.

Simon cringed and turned his back away.

“Ain’t no such bloody thing,” he muttered, heading into the back room. “In war, there are no real victories.”

The Diamond’s Lament sold drinks, but there was very little stock left of the old spirits of Earth. There was a facsimile of beer on tap at the counter, watered down to almost comic levels to keep supplies going, and a strong synthetic rum that took a lot of getting used to, but, increasingly, New Earth was forced to rely on new methods of obtaining a ‘buzz.’

“We need to celebrate our food and drink,” said a Topaz as she swept the floor (they called her Spot, because of the big round gem on her stomach), “There’s nowhere humans are more creative in then making what they eat.”

“And working out new ways to get drunk,” muttered Peedee.

Jeff suppressed a giggle at his husband’s quip.

“What do you think’s most important?” asked Jeff.

“Well, you have to show off the Paste,” replied Spot.

Jeff shuddered. The Paste had been one of the sole sources of food in the fraught early days of New Earth - a tasteless, slimy, sickly grey substance that could mass produced from one of the transports they’d taken from Blue Diamond. The mere mention of the Paste could send a chill through the strongest heart and the strongest stomach - it had been replaced as soon as alternative food sources could be found. Nobody, nobody at all, missed the stuff.

“Apart from that,” Spot continued, “You need to mention all the scavengers who go out to get our food supplies. They don’t get enough gratitude, y’know? Think of what we wouldn’t have without them.”

“Well, Jenny’ll like that,” mused Jeff.

“Hey, come to think of it, has she met back up with Stevonnie?” asked Peedee, “I think she keeps missing them.”

Jenny Pizza had become a scavenger; she took a small capsule on long voyages to find supplies for New Earth. It was difficult and dangerous work, but enormously rewarding - not just for New Earth itself, but for the scavenger, who got to see a much wider universe than most others in the little settlement. The downside was long periods of loneliness in space, but for many, the wonders of the galaxy made it worth it.

Jenny knew Stevonnie was back, and Stevonnie knew Jenny was alive, but life of a scavenger left precious little time for reconnection. There was always something that needed doing.

“We’ll, that’s something we’re definitely doing,” declared Jeff, “All the scavengers in port get the night off.”

“...they work to their own schedule, Jeff.”

“Yeah, but I’m declaring a public holiday, so they’re not allowed to work.”

“I have one more thing,” added Spot, “But this is a more general thing. I think we need a discussion about Reddick Berries.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if we can do that on the anniversary, but I’ll keep that in mind…”

Lapis stared at the little green-yellow berry in her hand. It was about the size of a grape, and felt juicy and cool to the touch. It had a mild sour smell and a smooth texture - it didn’t look half bad, but it didn’t look like much to worry about.

“So, this is a Reddick Berry?”

Buck Dewey nodded from the other side of the stall. Lapis had never really known Buck, but she knew enough to realise that he’d changed dramatically. He had grown mutton chops, making him vaguely resemble a nineteenth century outlaw. A long, nasty scar ran over the middle of his face, from the middle of his right cheek to just under his left eye. He wore a long coat over an old sweater, everything patched and worn - he could get new clothes, he said, but the ‘hobo/cowboy’ look he was running with just ‘fit,’ apparently.

These days, Buck ran a market stall, selling wares picked up by scavengers that weren’t necessarily vital, but were in demand. Payment was done by barter - a customer gave Buck something valuable, and Buck gave them as much stock as the object was worth. As a result, haggling was the order of the day in New Earth’s small market.

“Sure is,” replied Buck, “We used to get them from a planet near Titanicus XIX-XII, but we’ve started growing them in house.”

“You mean in shack?”

“Hey, I’m thinking of adding another storey.”

“So,” asked Lapis, turning the berry over in her hand, “What does a Reddick Berry do? And why’s it called that? It’s green…”

“It’s named after the woman who discovered it,” replied Buck, “And it’s a hallucinogen.”

“...halluci-what?”

Buck shrugged.

“Back when old Earth was destroyed,” he replied, “We lost all our supply of lot of things humans enjoyed - tobacco, cannabis, things like that. We used to use them to calm down, or to get into an altered state of mind. So when we found this it was like… yeah, man.”

Despite changing neither his tone nor facial expression, Lapis could detect Buck’s emphasis.

“Reddick Berries are the most popular ‘cause they’re a communal thing,” continued Buck, “They create a sort of psychic connection between minds under the influence of the berry, so that the visions and hallucinogens are shared. If you do it right, it gets pretty cosmic.”

“You can do it wrong?” asked Lapis.

“Doing it with strangers is dangerous,” replied Buck, “You never know what inner demons might come up, or what they could do to your mind while you’re connected. You can’t die, but a lot of people who aren’t careful can get traumatised real bad.”

“So it’s like fusion, but more dangerous.”

“Maybe,” Buck replied, “I don’t know. I’ve never fused.”

He reached into the basket and handed Lapis a second berry.

“Give it a go, see what you think,” he suggested, “And take this one for your barnmate. I reckon you’ll enjoy it.”

“Uh,” Lapis scratched the back of her head, “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this.”

“Sure, no pressure,” replied Buck kindly, putting the berry back, “But if you ever change your mind, the offer still stands. Family friend discount.”

Lapis titled her head.

“I’m not your family.”

“No, but I consider Steven an honorary brother,” replied Buck, “Which makes Stevonnie an honorary sibling. And if they like you, that’s all I need to know.”

“I…”

Lapis gave Buck a small smile.

“Thanks.”

Buck smiled back.

“Anytime, sister.”

“We had three doctors when we started, and one of them was a vet.”

Stevonnie sat across from Doctor West, the head doctor at the New Earth General Hospital. Like everything else, this building was ramshackle, painted a sterile white that did little to hide the hodgepodge of wood and corrugated iron that made its walls. It was not long for the world - New Earth’s builders, including a couple of skilled Bismuths, were in the final stages of construction of a new hospital, which was supposed to be a bigger and a little more windproof.

West was an old man; he intended to retire once the move to the new hospital was done. Once he had been a colleague of Doctor Priyanka Maheswaran (“I must say, I’m really sorry about what happened to your mom.”) He had been a relatively junior doctor, an assistant to Doctor Stromberg. Now he was bearded and grey, and his hands shook when idle. His time was coming to an end, he said, and it was time to bow out gracefully.

“So what did you do?” asked Stevonnie.

“We had a lot of volunteers,” replied West, “A lot of them we’d never have expected to become a doctor.”

He pointed over his shoulder at a Ruby in nurses’ scrubs, washing her hands in the staff room sink.

“They were willing to learn, and we were willing to teach,” he continued, “But a lot of the medicines, we had remake from scratch. Thank god for the scavengers or we’d never have been able to do it. Even now, we’re short on a lot of things - and we have to deal with new infections now. Feels like an arms race, sometimes.”

He took a sip of his drink, remembering.

“The worst crisis I remember,” he continued, “Was Grasseye. It got brought in by a scavenger - basically, it caused fungal growth under the skin; you’d notice it because it’d come out over your eyes and through your gums, and eventually it’d clog your vital organs. It was horrible. We lost thirty people to it, I think.”

He shook his head.

“Thank god for the gems,” he said, “Every tech they bring us is a miracle. We stopped Grasseye because a Peridot worked out a cure from an isolated fungus sample. We have vaccines, insulin, all those things because they made them for us.”

He shrugged.

“It’s still touch and go sometimes, but we make it because we work together,” he said, “New Earth works because humans and gems combine to make it work.”

“Because we need each other,” said Stevonnie.

“Bingo.”

West sat back, templing his hands.

“That’s what I’d say to Jeff,” he continued, “Don’t make this about mourning; we’ve mourned enough. Don’t make it a celebration of New Earth and human survival because some of those idiots in the human resistance will take it the wrong way. Make it about us - about the relationships we’ve formed. We’re all family here - how about we celebrate that?”

“Homebase to Acheron, Homebase to Acheron, come in Acheron.”

“Peedee! You taking over for Lenny today?”

“Nah, this is a personal call. You got a moment to swing back to New Earth? Jeff’s holding an anniversary event and we figured we could use it to reacquaint you with Stevonnie.”

“Well, I was heading back anyway, and I’ve really been looking forward to meeting ‘Vonnie again. Sure, I’ll be on the ground in twelve hours, tops.”

“Appreciate it, Jenny. Let me know when you land.”

“Hey, Peedee, before you go; tell Vidalia I’ve found something very special for her.”

“What, for the museum?”

“Mmmmmmaybe?”

“Sure, I’ll tell her! She’ll love that! Okay, see you soon, Jen.”

“You too, ‘Dee, you too.”

Click.

A stretch and a sigh.

“I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees you…”

“...last year we saw the end of food rationing for the last staple foods… no, using food twice in the same sentence sounds awkward.”

Jeff stood in front of the dirty mirror in his room, clad in a dark green suit and tie. He had just shaved for the occasion (and managed to cut his cheek, damn it,) and was going over his speech notes for the night ahead (not that night really differed from day here, but it made sense to stick to a twenty-four hour day cycle when half of the population was human). He was already deeply anxious - this was an important event, and he was still finding holes in his speech in the eighth reading.

“Hey Jeff!” Peedee stepped into the room, “You ready?”

Jeff turned, and caught his breath for a moment. His husband was dressed in a sand-brown tuxedo, shirt and tie roguishly abandoned and replaced with a long-sleeved shirt that exposed a glimpse of his chest hair. He grinned at Jeff’s reaction.

“I, ugh, uh, hot,” stammered Jeff.

Peedee chuckled.

“Blue Pearl’s waiting on us,” he said, “We gotta run.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…”

Jeff took a deep breath, adjusting his tie.

“Yeah,” he said firmly, “I got this.”

He stepped up to Peedee and wrapped an arm around his, grinning goofily.

“Let’s do it.”

Jenny Pizza couldn’t help but feel a little bit underdressed.

Everyone else had dressed in their bests, which, on New Earth, translated to clothes that looked presentable thanks to the fabricator, and here she was, fresh from her ship in her scavenger clothes; an old, cropped khaki jacket with the sleeves cut off, a pair of rough canvas trousers and dirty brown leather boots, the stains of sod and sweat still caking her body. Her biceps, toned and muscular from years of intensive physical activity, glistened slightly in the lights of the crowded Diamond’s Lament.

A pasty, thin officer of the Human Resistance, clad in a tight black dress uniform that he had probably designed himself, sneered at her unkempt appearance. She ignored him - she doubted he’d ever done a day of hard work in his life, never mind doing anything to help keep New Earth running.

“Jenny!”

Jenny turned around and, without even enough time to catch her breath, was pulled into a crushing embrace by Stevonnie. She laughed, hugging her old friend back.

“Stevonnie!” Jenny replied, stepping back after a moment, “So it’s true - you’re keeping the fusion gig up, full-time?”

“Yeah,” nodded Stevonnie, “I…”

“Awesome!” said Jenny, “And where’s the girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” asked Stevonnie, “What do you mean…”

Their eyes widened and they raised their arms, blushing furiously.

“Wait, no, Lapis isn’t… we’re not…”

Jenny laughed again, slapping a hand on their shoulder.

“I know, I know, I’m just messin’ with you!” she replied.

“Stevonnie, Mayor Jim says he’s speaking in…”

Lapis appeared from the crowd, trailing off as she saw Jenny.

“Oh, uh, this is your friend… Kenny, right?” she asked.

“Jenny,” the girl corrected gently, extending her hand.

“No, I’m Lapis,” replied Lapis, gently tapping Jenny’s hand, “Anyway, I’ve got a seat up the front when you’re ready.”

She walked away, leaving Stevonnie and Jenny alone.

“Blue, huh?” said Jenny, “Well… if you did decide to date her, you could do a lot worse…” She grinned teasingly.

“I… Jenny!”

Jenny laughed and playfully punched Stevonnie’s arm.

“Kidding!” she said.

She leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially.

“Just between you-me,” she hissed, “I got a little something planned for tonight.”

She winked and turned around, disappearing back into the crowd.

Stevonnie blinked, tilting their head.

“...huh,” they said, “Wonder what she’s up to…”

“Yo, ‘Vonnie?”

Stevonnie turned. Amethyst had walked up to them, a perplexed frown on her face.

“You seen V?” she asked, “I was gonna ask her to sit with me n’ ‘Dot, but I can’t find her.”

Stevonnie shrugged and shook their head.

“I’m afraid not,” they said, “I did see Jenny though…”

“Cool, cool,” nodded Amethyst, “Let me know if she turns up, alright? Last thing I want is for her to have to listen to that Curator guy talk about train numbers or army buttons or something all night…”

She walked away, leaving Stevonnie once more with the promise if they saw Vidalia, they would point her in Amethyst’s direction

“...okay, Jen’s ready when you’re done…”

“...right, yeah, okay…”

Jeff took a deep breath.

“Here we go.”

Jeff stepped out onto the stage, passing the musician that had been singing before him on the way. He stopped in front of the microphone, smiling awkwardly as the whole room applauded him.

“Thank you, Dan,” he said, briefly turning to the singer offstage, “Well, it’s been…”

God, he thought, he didn’t deserve it - New Earth worked because of them, not because of him.

Wait.

Wait.

That was it!

Jeff grinned and tucked his speechnotes back into his suit pocket.

“Okay,” he said, “I had a speech about milestones and food rationing and everything being better, but I think I have a better idea. I wanted to make a speech about how we work together - as humans and gems - to make something better for us all. And I don’t want to do that by talking statistics.”

“When we came to this place, we had nothing,” he continued, “And had lost everything. Some of us were lucky - we had husbands, wives, families - and some of us weren’t.”

Buck Dewey looked down at the floor, his shoulders sagging.

“We survived,” continued Jeff, “Because there were gems willing to defy their own Homeworld to make sure we survived. Who helped us gather food, build shelter and infrastructure; they risked their lives for us for no reason other then the faint promise of freedom. We owe them everything.”

There were a few annoyed grunts as members of the Human Resistance angrily began to file out - to his credit, Captain Franks did not, awkwardly watching Commander Lewis shove people aside as she went for the door.

“And now, look where we are,” said Jeff, “We have a port. We have a hospital. We have stores, markets and… and we make our own food! I mean, sure, that two-headed ox thing isn’t actually a cow, but it tastes the same, right? We’re building new buildings - real buildings! And all of this happened because we built a community.”

He looked across the room once more. He saw a young man and a lilac sapphire at the same table, sharing a drink. He saw Lenny and the hulking jasper Carl, the latter lifting a little girl up to help her see. He saw a woman and a light-yellow pearl, arms around each other, a faint blush on their cheeks. And at the front, he saw Stevonnie and Lapis, a partnership that had managed to survive and thrive alone on their little island. There were dozens of other little stories of cooperation scattered throughout the Diamonds’ Lament, testament to the heart of their home.

“So this is who we are,” said Jeff, “We’re not just gems, we’re not just humans. We’re not Earthlings and we’re not from space. We’re something better. We are united. And our very existence is a triumph, a message to the entire galaxy; we are still here! And as long as we’re together, no power in the universe can destroy us! Because we represent something more powerful than any weapon, any fleet, any Diamond!”

He allowed his voice to echo in the dead silence of the room.

“We,” he continued at last, “Are hope. And that is a light that can never be extinguished.”

He chuckled to himself.

“After all,” he said, “There are still little miracles happening across the universe, every day. Isn’t that right…”

He turned to the backstage and grinned.

“...Sour Cream?”

The man that emerged from behind the stage had been cleaned up as best they could. Jenny had found him on a lonely desert planet, the last survivor of a small transport pod that had been bound for the Zoo (or, so she guessed.) He had been thin, almost skeletal, and his eyes had been sunken - a long, long beard underlined his face. Even after a meal, a shave and a change of clothes, he still looked worn and haggard, stumbling as if in a dream onto the light of the stage.

His mother walked behind him, her remaining arm over his shoulder, waving somewhat awkwardly with her limb enhancer. Onion - now tall and lanky but otherwise not so different from before, and quiet as always - brought up the rear, his expression impassive as ever.

The audience regarded Sour Cream and his mother - their eyes fell on the limb enhancer that replaced Vidalia’s arm, and Sour Cream’s dry skin and sunken eyes. These were the scars they bore, the price they’d paid for survival, a living tribute to the sacrifice that had created New Earth and kept it alive. The tension in the air was palpable - Jeff wondered for a moment if he’d done something wrong, if he should have kept this private, if…

“This is my son.”

Vidalia spoke into the microphone, her voice wavering slightly.

“I lost him for fifteen years,” she said, “And now he’s back. And the ship that brought him back was made by a gem, and flown by a human. We found him because we let our world’s combine. And I know some people say we shouldn’t but working together…”

Her voice cracked.

“We brought my boy home.”

There was nothing else to be said. Vidalia pulled her son into a embrace, burying his head in her shoulder. Tears fell unashamed from the eyes of both mother and son as they held each other, fifteen long years of separation finally over. Nobody in the crowd dared to make a noise, to interrupt this moment of sorrow and pain and sheer, unbridled joy.

It was unfathomably unlikely, almost statistically impossible, and yet here it was - a family reunited after having been split across the cosmos.

Jeff was right. Miracles still happened.

“...so, I remember finding this in Dad’s stuff - uh, Greg Dad - and he told me mom wrote it? Anyway, I practiced it, and I remember it off by heart now…”

Stevonnie sat on a homemade piano in the back of the now empty Diamond’s Lament. The event was long over now - it was just them (and Simon, scrubbing down the counter), and they were about to leave for the warp pad. However, seeing the piano unoccupied, Stevonnie had felt a sudden urge to give it a play.

“So, these are the lyrics?” asked Lapis, looking down at the quickly scribbled words on the napkin they had handed her.

“Yeah, yeah,” replied Stevonnie, “Just… uh, join in when you’re ready.”

They cracked their fingers and began to play. The sound wasn’t great - the piano had seen a lot of playing, and it was vaguely tinny and high pitched. It gave the tune something of a melancholy feeling. They played the song without singing at first, then took a deep breath.

“Okay, here we go…”

They began to sing.

“If I could, begin to be, half of what you think of me, I could do about anything, I could even learn how to love…”

Nervously, Lapis looked down at the words and joined in.

“When I see, the way you act, Wondering when I’m coming back, I could do about anything…”

They both broke into smiles, and Lapis put a hand over Stevonnie’s shoulder, their voices echoing in union in the empty bar room - human and gem, intertwined.

“I could even learn how to love like you… Love like you… Love me like you…”

[stusbunker]

Questions: When?

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Setting: Starts in Season 8, Ends in Season 9

Chapter 2 of my Questions Series

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me on the backstories, now we’ll get to more meaty stuff. This is right as Y/N visits the Bunker for the first time. Basically Sam’s perspective this time. Some dialogue taken from the show. Also, this gif makes me want to cry. Thank you @spndaily for this gem!

Remember a comment or a reblog goes a LONG way. xoxo Stu

Warnings: Mentions of Amelia, lots of angst, Trials!Sam, Gadreel!Sam

Sam was grasping at straws, trying to stay upright from the toll of the trials. What he wanted to know above all else was; when all was said and done, would it be enough?

It had been a long time since Sam had felt like he had a place to sit back and relax with friends. Bobby had been family and his place was more of a library overflowing a bachelor pad than a place for entertaining. Having Y/N spend time with him and Dean at the Bunker felt good, after he got over the general uncertainty of seeing her again. Dean and he seemed to be back on track, after the first trial and settling into the Bunker, their year apart truly started to fade.

What hadn’t faded, was the feelings he had for Amelia. With Y/N around, another woman who he wouldn’t admit he was attracted to, the ache of leaving Amelia behind resurfaced. She was better off without him, the truth did little to help it from eating him from the inside out. Dean had finished giving Y/N the tour of the areas they had pilfered, knowing that there was still a lot of ground to cover.

“Some place you got here,” she seemed genuinely impressed, smiling easily at Sam as he was perched over a tower of open books. The Men of Letters’ library was immense and he felt compelled to keep reading and discovering. But Y/N tended to draw his eyes from the books a little too easily.

“I know, each day I find more things we didn’t know.” Sam exhaled.

“Looks like you’ll have your research itch scratched for a good long while,” Y/N stood with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, one leg bent making her hips swell and her backside more noticeable.

Just then Dean appeared with beer for everyone, “What’d I tell you? Nerdgasming over the library.”

Y/N chuckled at Dean’s jab, but she softened at Sam’s bewilderment. “I think it’s smart, knowledge is power right?”

“Thank you.” Sam said, looking pointedly at Dean. Dean waved him off as he finally strode over with the beer for Sam.

“So, Garth has been pretty tight lipped about you guys. What gives?” Y/N slowly began to pry their situation with Kevin Tran and the Demon Tablet out of the brothers’ mouths. By the time she had wrapped her head around everything, it was time for a food run, Dean volunteered and neither Sam nor Y/N protested.

Twenty minutes later and Sam was oddly aware of Y/N’s perfume on the air. She sat across from him, scanning through the titles he had before him on one of the massive tables. “What?” Sam huffed, slightly amused at how she looked like she had gotten caught snooping.

“You would have made some lawyer, Winchester,” she shrugged, taking a long pull off her beer. Her lips pressed against the cold glass. “I can’t stand to read more than the job requires, and here you are completely content. Or as close as our kind gets to content.”

Sam’s jaw jutted out, shrugging he pondered, “Maybe I’m just curious. Besides, like you said, the more I know, the better prepared I am for whatever the next trial is.”

Her face shifted, her eyes flashing with understanding. She didn’t ask anymore questions, yet Sam cleared his throat trying to get back to the entry he had been reading about demon possession during the Salem Witch trials. A feeling tickled the back of his neck, like being caught shirtless on an autumn night. She had found a chink in his emotional armor, one he couldn’t even locate.

***

The trials had been his only tangible thought for weeks, his body slowly slipping away from him. Sam Winchester had done many things in his thirty years, but quitting wasn’t one of them. Every muscle protested as he stood to head back to the library. He felt the floor shift beneath his boots like wet sand, the walls spiraling like a fun house tube. Slowly he fought to remain upright and into the solid foundation of the wood framed chair.

The only thing that made it worse was Dean’s constant doubts, the subtle glances and the outright challenges, all chipping at and fueling his resolve in varying measure. With Benny gone and Kevin in the wind, the pressure he felt to keep on chugging along was all that made sense. Y/N had left after only a few days at the Bunker, claiming she got stir crazy and finding herself a case in Colorado. Sam didn’t know why he kept checking his phone. Dean was with Charlie and he was benched.

He went back to the shooting range; he hated being left behind. That old nagging sensation of being the burden and not old/big/capable enough resurfaced after so many years, did not quell the Winchester stubbornness. When all was cleaned up after the Djinn family, Sam felt guilty because he had screwed up. Yet, Dean hadn’t fought him, he had hugged him. Maybe what he saw in the dream was worse than Sam imagined, maybe Charlie was a good influence on his brother. Sam wasn’t certain of anything anymore.

***

A month later

“Easy, Y/N,” Sam turned to look for Dean’s support. Dean played it cool, refusing to cast his line into the building tide.

“Excuse me?! Look at you, you are clearly not right in the head,” he hadn’t seen her this angry before. It was infuriating to be belittled while trying to make a point. He bit back his spite and listened as she continued to rant. “Besides, since when has it ever been a good idea to keep a demon in your basement?!”

“Crowley may be a douche bag, but we’ve got him locked down. Unless you don’t trust me either?” Dean finally backed him up. Sam shrugged, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. She looked at his brother and then back at Sam, eyeing him suspiciously. He felt like he was being sized up and unconsciously straightened his back. He had a foot on her and she remained unimpressed.

“I cannot believe you two! You left the door open for these assholes and then decide to shack up while the world is stuck swallowing Angels. I show up to find a scared shitless honor student and now this.”

Kevin murmured from the corner, causing Dean and Sam to bark, “Shut up, Kevin!” in unison. She stared at the high ceiling of the map room and huffed. Sam knew she wasn’t going to back down from this, but, for now, it was for the best.

“Listen, you can stay and help us with the Angel problem or you can go about your business.” Dean was done arguing, he kept glancing at Sam like he was expecting him to pass out or be sick. Sam rolled his eyes and continued trying to persuade Y/N.

“Look, if we can get Crowley to give us the name of every demon he has topside. We can hunt them down. All of them.” Sam could sense her calming down, despite the glare he was getting.

“He will break, okay? And when he does, we’ll hold him down while the kid knives him. Then we all go out for ice cream and strippers.” Dean was really selling it now. Y/N cracked a smile and rolled her eyes at his brother’s cheek.

“Just stay away from him. Both of you.” Sam emphasized to both Y/N and Kevin.

“So now what?” Kevin asked, sensing the argument had dropped off. The hunters got to work, leaving the prophet to keep decoding. The bunker was oddly full and Sam felt better for the first time in a long time.

***

A month later

“So I know why you’re keeping little Kevin around, reads above his grade level and all. But why exactly is she still here, Moose?” Crowley was growing bored and enjoyed getting under Sam’s skin more than anything. “I mean, she’s probably a decent hunter, but rather abrasive isn’t she?”

Sam cocked his head and looked Crowley in his greedy dark eyes, “I’d love to see you say that to her face.”

“I might have, in not so many words. Why do you think I have been hollering all morning. She started waterboarding me.” Crowley croaked indignantly. Sam raised his eyebrows, looking at the small patch of water that drained from the center of the devil’s trap.

“Sure.” Sam turned to leave.

“She fancies you, you know. Somebody like her doesn’t stay in one place this long if there isn’t a reason. Should probably let her down easy, yeah? Guy like you tends to, uh, I don’t mean to be indelicate. But are your nethers cursed? Because---”

Sam realized he had frozen in place, listening to the drivel spew from the former King of Hell’s mouth. His chest tightened and he let out the breath he had been holding. He stepped through the first wall and sealed the demon behind him. Letting Crowley rot in his taunts.

***

After First Born

“All I know is Dean came in asking about putting ear muffs on the possessing angels. So Kevin and I got to work.” She explained, the loss of trust in her eyes hurt him deeply, but he swallowed and let her continue.

“As soon as the sigils were up, Kevin asked Dean what was really going on. We were in the library and there was shouting from the store room. I figured it was just Dean’s temper catching up with how long you were gone, but then you came out, cool as a cucumber.” Y/N flinched, shaking her head as if evening out a scale. “Well, the other you. I don’t even remember what he said before, before firebombing Kevin’s insides.”

Sam sniffled as she held herself, the images scorched inside her memory, causing her to close her eyes.

“I just can’t stay here after, that,” Y/N whispered. “Castiel is going after Metatron, which is great. But I can’t be here alone, not with you. Maybe if Dean gets back and you guys figure some of this out--”

“Could you trust me again?” Sam’s voice hitched, trying not to let the weakness from the failed spell seep into his words.

“I would need to trust both of you, again. After Dean did that to you, you of all people. How do I know I am safe with either of you?”

She finally looked at him, her eyes pained and fearful, two things he would fight to never see on her face ever again. He wanted to retch, to shake the sense into her. But his hands had killed Kevin and he wouldn’t lift them to her, not now. Not ever. She double checked her pack and that her phone was charged. He stared mindlessly at his computer screen as she climbed the metal staircase. He let it all out once the heavy door fell back into place high above him. If those Bunker walls could talk. Pain would be their first language.

Chapter 3: Why?

@dontshootmespence @madlu45 @because-imma-lady-assface @ericaprice2008

[abutterflyobsession]

Doctor Who AU: Part 14

prelude/one/two/three/four/five/six/seven/eight/nine/ten/eleven/twelve/thirteen/ao3

“You see, humans are boring.”

The primrose pendant was a bright spot of rosy color in the sterile white of the circular room. It dangled from Roland's hand, looking even gaudier than usual when compared to his crisp neatness, straight lines of his clothing and carefully calculated curl of his hair.

“Fascinating,” Bog tried to wiggle his feet and hands, but he was caught fast and the wall had no give. The wall had swallowed him up to the waist and held his hands trapped above his head. Somewhere to Bog's left the Doctor was similarly trapped and muttering under her breath.

“Humans are boring, dull little creatures and almost entirely useless.”

“You're hurting my feelings.”

“What I need to unlock this,” Roland bounced the pendant up and down, “is more Cheem.”

“Sorry I couldn't have been more help.”

“No, you don't grasp what I'm saying. Not surprising. Your little trinket keeps you and your like mostly human, covering up anything non-human with a perception filter built into your genetic code. Without this you'd go full potted plant over the course of several years.”

“My family does tend to have a problem with dry skin when we get older.”

“Now, you managed to access the information contained in this, but you've failed to activate any of its other abilities. It's not just a passive receptacle of data, you know.”

The Doctor's muttering got louder and more annoyed.

The seed had been a battery, of sorts, Bog understood. It collected power from the sun and stored it so it could be used for any number of things. To manipulate the growth of the forest, to make ships, even to make the Cheem look human.

At least, it had been. Until something happened, four centuries ago, that ended with the primrose seed in pieces, its abilities crippled, patched together and held in place by the yellow gem in the center.

Roland dropped the pendant into a box.

“This is rather like what you were using earlier, to block the signal of the pendent,” Roland snapped the box shut and the lid fused to the box, the seam disappearing completely, “But far less makeshift and created specifically for the purpose of isolating the gems.”

“Obviously you don't want me setting the cloud of death on you.”

“Obviously. But it also serves the purpose of keeping the pendant from maintaining your human form. The gems have to send out a constant signal that fortify your genetic scaffolding, keep it from slipping into old habits. Like growing leaves instead of hair and bark instead of toenails.”

“Yeah, okay, so in like ten years I'll be a bit green around the gills. You've got my knees knocking, for sure. Is this wall going to ruin my jacket? Leather is hard to keep in condition, you know, and it's already got its share of rips and scuffs.”

“I'm so glad,” Roland tapped the box, a smug little smile on his face, “So glad you're taking this situation with the seriousness it commands. Darlin', would you like to explain to your pet philodendron what's going on?”

The Doctor's muttering cut off and she craned her head around to look at Bog, “He's going to expose you to the time vortex to try and speed up your personal time.”

“What?”

“Ten years will be like ten minutes and you'll be completely Cheem. At least, the remaining human DNA will be negligible.”

“What you're saying is that I'm going to lose my good looks.”

Roland shuddered at the idea of Bog and 'good looks' mentioned in the same sentence.

The Doctor's lips quirked up slightly.

“I need Cheem DNA to use as a basis to break the security on the pendant,” Roland continued, trying to refocus their attention back on him.

“Aren’t you even going to try, I don’t know, torture me or something? What if I just gave you access?”

“What would be the fun of that?”

Roland waved a had and the wall shifted, moving in a wave of cubes, setting Bog further back in the wall, blocking his view of the Doctor.

“Bog,” she called, straining to catch his eye before he was out of sight, “Bog, you're going to be fine. I'm going to get you out, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Bog replied, watching the Doctor's ruffled head disappear, panic rising up in his chest. He had only a rudimentary idea of what Roland was planning, but considering it was Roland . . . it was going to be bad.

“I swear, I'll get you out. I swear. I promise. You'll be walking out of here with that necklace in your hand and you can go back to grouching around and fiddling with your guitar like a moody teenager.”

“That's rich,” Bog couldn't help but laugh a little, “coming from the oldest moody teenager in all of time and space. That's a promise, huh? Tell you what, you've got to come to one of my gigs after we get out of this, to make up for it. And not the street corner weekend stuff, one of my actual paying gigs, with an audience and everything. I'll show you who 'plays decently'.”

“It's a date.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Buttercup,” Roland sauntered toward her, “you and I know exactly how much your promises are worth.”

Roland snapped his fingers, the wall closing over in front of Bog, sealing him in a small rectangle of space. Just before the last crack of light was blocked out he caught a glimpse of Roland's face twisted into a look of anger, contorted and ugly.

“Not even the breath you waste on them.”

Then there was only darkness.

“Okay, so we got a little lost!”

“Dawn, we just spent a week in the 1960s!”

“We had a good time, didn't we?”

“Okay, yeah. Encounters with blatant racism aside, it was kind of awesome. I mean, we met the Beatles! And Ray Charles! But when you said that this botax manipulator--”

“Vortex manipulator.”

“--lost power and needed a little time to recharge you failed to mention that 'a little time' actually means 'three days, possibly a week'.”

“Sorry, the manipulator is synced to the TARDIS and bounced us back to the last time we'd visited. I've turned off the connection and we should be able to make half a dozen jumps now that it isn't burning up energy searching for the TARDIS's signal.”

“Good. Great. Next time remember to turn it on airplane mode before we take off.”

“Noted. We're back within the same hour we left in, I just need to trace Roland's TARDIS and set the new coordinates.”

Sunny was suffering from whatever the time travel equivalent of jet lag was. But at the same time he was still exhilarated from actually traveling in time. And from spending a whole week running around 1960s American with Dawn.

The power to time travel may have bugged out but the vortex manipulator still acted as a handy teleporter and they had spent the week hopping from event to event, falling asleep in the backs of buses after concerts, holding hands in front of guys who started to make trouble about a white woman hanging around with a black man, then running around a corner and teleporting away.

Also there had been a small problem with an invasion of lizard aliens trying to broadcast a signal on radio waves, encoded into a recording of I Heard it Through the Grapevine, meant to mentally enslave everyone who heard it to the will of the lizard queen. That had been solved fairly quickly once Dawn convinced the FBI that she worked for them and got their help to alter the broadcast.

Sunny felt like he was just being dragged along for the ride.

He didn't even mind.

He was having the time of his life.

It was hard to pull his thoughts back to the present and remember that Dawn's sister and Bog had only just been abducted and probably needed help immediately.

It was especially hard to remember anything when after Dawn finished calculating the coordinates she kissed him.

“Okay, I need you to take this phone and stand in an open area. It will act as a homing beacon so I can find my way back. I may or may not be bringing Roland's TARDIS with me so find a nice big space. If the phone rings, answer it and that will activate the signal and let me lock on. I don't want to broadcasting indefinitely in case somebody else picks up the signal and decides to drop by for a quick afternoon invasion. Are you okay?”

“Uh, you handed me a phone and then everything went blank.”

“It was the kiss, wasn't it?”

“Mm, might have been.”

“Because I am a hugger and a kisser and I forget about boundaries so I might have done that without thinking because you're an extraordinarily lovely person and very cute. Can I do it again?”

“What?”

“Kiss you.”

“Yes! I mean, yeah. If you want to--”

Dawn wanted to.

An interlude of uncertain length passed before either of them remembered what they were supposed to be doing.

“Yes, phone!” Dawn made sure he was holding it, “Open space, answer when I call! I'll see you soon.”

She hit a button on the vortex manipulator and vanished.

Sunny was just dazedly making his way out of the TARDIS and heading in the general direction of some empty lots when Dawn reappeared, her hair slightly singed.

She laughed nervously, “I may have dropped a one in my calculations. I've fixed it now. Okay, bye!”

She bent down and kissed him quickly on the lips before vanishing again.

Sunny lingered where he was for about half a minute, but started walking again when it became clear she was not popping back again.

“Let's see how things are coming along!”

There was light again and Bog hurt.

A new pain stabbed in his arm and he cracked open his gritty eyes to see Roland sticking him with a needle. Roland drew some blood and held up the syringe to examine the color.

“Hardly even starting,” Roland frowned, tossing the syringe over his shoulder. It shattered somewhere behind him, “You haven't even begun to cook yet, tree man.”

It was dark again.

Bog's skin crawled.

Tingled like he'd stuck his finger in a light socket.

He could feel his skin pulling tight and starting to crack.

Light.

Another needle stabbed into his arm.

“Really, you have to stop dawdling, there's really only so much small talk you can make when the other person isn't talking to you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?”

Faintly, Bog heard the Doctor telling Roland to “drop dead” along with some other things he couldn't make out, but sounded colorful.

“What a way for a lady to talk!” Roland huffed, indignant, before closing Bog back into the dark.

Bog felt his bones twisting.

That what he thought it was, at least.

Anyway, it hurt.

There was a blur of light, needles stabbed in his arm, then dark again.

Bog counted it a mercy when he felt consciousness slip away

[terryblount]

Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom Review

A friend and fellow gaming writer once told me the worst part of this job is when you have to review something the community absolutely loves, but you just cannot seem to like it. The Steam store page is plastered with blue thumbs pointing up, Metacritic boasts a whopping 86%, but, somehow, you just cannot relate to the masses. Well folks, with Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom, that day has arrived on my PC.

Let me be clear that I do not think Monster Boy is completely bad. This game still shows that rare gem of innovation you only get from the AA and indie scene, and it can be really fun to play. It is obvious that the developers, FDG Entertainment, are deeply in touch with the strengths of their source material.

Meet the protagonist, Jin, except he barely stays in this form throughout the entire game.

In truth, my objection to Monster Boy’s overwhelmingly positive reception lies in how this game clearly runs into some infuriating moments of inconsistency. The delicate balance this game holds between its unique blend of Metroidvania and platformer components too often gives way to seriously frustrating moments. I feel like I spent a little too much of my play time gnashing my teeth.

More than a Tenacious D Song

  Monster Boy has quite the legacy behind it, and you can trace its primary influence all the way back to SEGA’s Wonder Boy that came out during the mid-80’s. Since then, Wonder Boy has passed between the hands of several different developers, and every subsequent studio that worked with the IP contributed at least one new gameplay mechanic that stuck.

Now the torch has been handed to a German-based studio who have added their own bits to this Frankenstein monster of an IP, and FDG Entertainment has done a great job at using Monster Boy’s mixed heritage to make the gameplay relevant again. What we have here is a game that is neither pure Metroidvania nor thoroughbred platformer, but instead draws from the strengths of both.

Monster Boy’s story is so simple that the title is practically a spoiler. Once upon time in a mystical kingdom, someone called Uncle Nabu unexpectedly goes nuttier than squirrel poop, and starts flying around on a broomstick like a witch.  In a moment of naughty sorcery, he ends up spreading a strange curse across an entire kingdom which turns all the inhabitants into humanoid animals.

You can actually talk to some NPC’s during gameplay, and I must say they seem rather laid-back about being turned into bipedal rats, sheep and owls. Perhaps they don’t mind having fleas, or licking their own butts? Thankfully, a boy named Jin chooses not to spend the rest of this life as a piggy, and swears to put an end to his uncle’s antics.

While being a swashbuckling swine (complete with eye patch) has its perks – such as lightning attacks, stun attacks, fire balls and the ability to sniff out treasures and so on – our hero soon discovers that he has bitten off more than your average hog can chew. To reverse his uncle’s curse, Jin must unite five magical orbs hidden in jungles, caves, and even at the bottom of the ocean. Oh, and each orb is protected by a giant monster (i.e. boss fight).

Once Jin gets his porky hooves on the first orb, however, he inherits its power, which gives him the choice between more than one animal shape! Being a frog suddenly makes reaching the underwater orb a real possibility, and being a slippery snake means small crawlspaces are no challenge at all (and, for some reason, crystals light up dark spaces when you spew poison on them).

Paws and claws

  My reason for saying that Monster Boy feels like a blend of genres is because it plays out like a Metroidvania game in its progression style, yet the snappy movement and combat mechanics lean more towards a platformer experience. It is particularly in the latter where FDG Entertainment’s experience in developing physics-based, mobile games really shows.

This game is full of great little ideas for platforming. You use the ice sword to create a makeshift platform.

With regards to the Metroidvania elements, Monster Boy brings back what was established in 1992’s Wonder Boy III: The Dragon’s Trap. This game introduced a sprawling map to the series that gradually opens up to the player as they gain the ability to transform into different animals.

The world map, which bears a striking resemblance to the maps from Super Metroid.

Whereas games such as Dead Cells or Hollow Knight imbue the player with weapons or abilities to assist with progression through the map, Monster Boy takes this process further by asking the player to transition to an entirely different character. The player will ultimately be able to change into a total of five different animals after they have collected all of the orbs.

I already mentioned the little pig who is a long range projectile specialist as his special attack, and also a treasure sniffer. He can hit enemies from a distance during combat or trigger switches in puzzles, plus he makes the most adorable little fart every time he eats an upgrade!

Piggy doing his thing. You can switch between several different ammo types. Boomerangs must be caught if you hope to keep them.

The pig sinks like a stone underwater though, which is where the frog comes in. He is super agile below the surface, and he can use his extendable tongue to hang or pull things which become a central traversal tool later in the game. Then there is the muscular lion that represents the tank of the bunch. He can dash upwards which is particularly helpful if your jump needs a bit of extra height, or to bash through brittle walls when going sideways.

The snake specialises in sliding up and down non-horizontal surfaces which is pretty neat, but his venom-spitting attack became somewhat redundant for me towards the end of the game. The dragon… well he flies and belches out fire pretty much par for the course. It is with the dragon where Monster Boy took the oppertunity to introduce a few brutally difficult shoot-‘em-up sections against enemies in the sky.

The snake… which, for some reason, is really sticky. Then again, I have never seen a pig throw fire balls either.

Monster Boy combines all these abilities into a single, cohesive experience that results in some excellent platforming gameplay. The player can switch between characters on the fly to combine their abilities for solving puzzles, defeating bosses, or to reach secret areas. Now factor in that you can augment many of their abilities with armour or weapons, and you have gameplay with some serious potential.

Why has this water dash ability not featured in more games!? It’s awesome!

A Thing of Beauty

  What will really bowl over newcomers and seasoned fans alike are, of course, the visuals. This game is so vibrant, so colourful, so vivid, that you will probably see imprints of the screen left behind on your corneas after closing your eyes.

I mentioned earlier how the gameplay is a fusion, which could also be said for the visuals. You can tell that the art style has an unmistakable Eastern foundation in character design and certain animations. Yet, there is obviously also a Western influence involved with the visual aesthetics, and they work together here in a truly slick and beautiful manner.

This game could probably fix stuck pixels in any monitor.

Monster Boy’s lively visuals have been complimented by an equally jolly soundtrack that combines upbeat, almost arcade-like tunes with the classic little sound effects from 80’s platformers when you pick up coins, run over a checkpoint, find an upgrade, etc. This game is the very auditory and visual embodiment of happiness, which, on a personal level, was a welcome contrast to the dark and sombre JRPG’s I always seem to be stuck in.

A Thing of Anger

  After reading all that, you will be excused for forgetting that I actually ended up disliking Monster Boy. So let me try to elaborate on where this game lost me, and thus explain my surprise for why so many reviews actually omitted these issues upon the game’s launch on the Nintendo Switch in 2018.

The overarching problem I had with this game can only be described as Monster Boy’s tendency to repeatedly throw inconsistent difficulty spikes at the player. If you add up all the time I struggled my arse off just to get past one enemy or a particularly tricky jump, it would almost rival all the rest of the gameplay. To put it another way, Monster Boy likes to pull ‘dick moves’.

One of the many infuriating sections the game makes you fumble around in the dark. This sucks.

First off, the checkpoints are rather terrible. This means that, if you die, you will have to play entire sections over and over and over and over just to make it to the part you are actually struggling with. The repetitive nature of these moments already started sucking a lot of fun out of the experience.

On top of this, the game features some moments of awful enemy placement. For example, during one awesome level I found myself in a sloping and tilting shipwreck, which means I had to compensate for things rolling around. This was fun until I reached a simple section where there were some bats hanging from the ceiling that swoop down onto the player with their attacks.

What should have been one brief moment in a series of challenges took me nearly twenty minutes to clear because you have to jump upwards towards the bats to get past them. Unfortunately, the character is completely vulnerable during the jump animation, and it doesn’t help that the shield in the game only seems to work when it feels like it.

Two hits from the bats and you are dead, and there are four of them to get past. Did I mention you will also be placed right at THE BEGINNING of the sequence if you die? It is impossible to regard this as an engaging challenge when such moments just smack so clearly of poor level design. This was by no means an isolated incident, and I can make a long list if you like.

Doing ‘shrooms! This is the second boss.

The boss fights, on the other hand, are awesome as you will use the different animals and each one’s unique ability to conquer the huge behemoths. However, I again found myself screaming “dude, what the hell!?” after I realised this game utterly refuses to replenish your health (even after a boss fight).

Matter of fact, you will always restart with the amount of health you had when passing through the last checkpoint. This may sound like a minor gripe, especially considering that the player is given a teleport staff to reach portals near health refill shops.

Yet this is a hard sell for every single time I find my character low on health and in a sticky situation. A well-placed platforming segment or enemy encounter can still be fun even if it is extremely challenging. However, you want to play in the game, and not against the game when you start off these moments already handicapped with half your health.

Note my health in the top left corner. That is what the game gave me upon re-spawning, and to think I first approached this boss with full health.

Last issue worth mentioning is that some puzzles – particularly those that enable the player to progress – were not that great. I felt like the solution came to me through trial and error or just blind luck rather than requiring me to rack my brains. I particularly questioned why the developers deemed it wise to make the player literally feel around in the dark as an idea for certain puzzles. Like I sad, dick move.

Metroid in vain

  What is so weird about Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom is how these really abysmal and frustrating moments appear right in the middle of truly great segments of gameplay. Just as you start getting comfortable in the momentum of your game… your serenity comes crashing to a halt as the game throws a totally pointless curve-ball at you.

Perhaps the devs in charge of level design went on a coffee break during the final crunch for the game release date. Maybe it was the office rookies that were given the heavy lifting while the main level and gameplay designers were smoking a cigarette.

I will still give this game a recommendation because I must confess that I am not exactly good at platforming or Metroidvania games, so perhaps the fault is mine. Note, this is a very, VERY tentative recommendation, but I think this game has some truly innovative ideas that might just sustain players through moments when their molar teeth are smashing together.

Beautiful

Great platforming gameplay

Variety of locations

Boss fights are cool

Very inconsistent

Awful check point placement

Obnoxious level designs

Mediocre puzzle sections

        Playtime: 21 hours total. For the single player campaign

Computer Specs: Windows 10 64-bit computer using Nvidia GTX 1070, i5 4690K CPU, 16GB RAM – Played using an Xbox One Controller

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