#and yeah this goes for people who try to disguise it with positivity and Friendly Reminders too

[captn-trex]

technical devotion, part eight: playing the part

content warnings: minor description of panic around crowds

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“What the-”

Kan jumped as she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at the droid that was sat lazily at the kitchen table. She then realised it was not a droid at all.

“Echo, you scared me” She laughed slightly, and Echo flipped up the mask of his disguise.

“Pretty convincing right?”

“Yeah, maybe if you weren't sat like a man” She smirked at his distinctly human posture and he chuckled. “I've gotta say, when you said you had a disguise this is not what I was expecting”

“Well maybe that bodes well for my disguise then” He smirked a little, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yep” Kan smiled, grabbing her bag, “Let's get going”

Kan and Echo ventured into town, having heard there was a market in the square today. They were yet to really meet anyone here, and Echo had decided it was easier for him to walk around as a ‘droid’, going unnoticed, instead of trying to explain to people why he was more machine than man, as he often put it.

The square was bursting with life. It was wonderfully decorated with banners and plants, and the large fountain in the middle served as a place of rest for parents and a play area for their kids. There were vendors selling an assortment of things, from food to spare parts and clothes, and it was positively a melting pot of people from all over the galaxy. There was not one presiding race, and Kan was thankful, her olive green Mirialan skin not making her stand out for once.

Despite the cheerful cast of characters in the square, it was lined by men in white plastoid armour, the only ones who managed to stand out in this environment. Stormtroopers.

“You should get talking to some people” Echo said quietly, his voice modulated by his mask. Kan almost didn't realise it was him talking to her.

“Yeah alright, give me a minute” Kan looked around, a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things going on. She figured she'd start at a food vendor, somewhere they could actually do with visiting.

“Hello there ma'am, how are you today?” The Weequay vendor smiled warmly.

“I'm well, how are you?” Kan replied.

Echo couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes as Kan got into a conversation with the vendor that could not be described as short. She asked about her life, how she had ended up on this planet and about her family. Though it was sweet how much she truly cared about other people and wanted to connect with them, this really wasn't the time for it.

As they walked away from the stand with a paper bag full of vegetables, Kan got distracted by another stand selling food, and Echo grabbed her arm subtlely to stop her.

“We’re not just here to chat and buy food, start talking to some of the locals” He said quietly.

Kan huffed, “Alright, fine”

“I'm gonna take a walk around, see what I can hear” Echo said, walking off to her right before she got the chance to reply.

Kan looked around the square, and decided to just take the plunge. She approached a friendly looking Zabrak woman who was sat by herself at the fountain, smiling at the children playing in the water.

“Excuse me, I'm sorry to disturb you” Kan began, and the woman looked to her with an openness that made her continue, “I'm new to town, could you possibly tell me a little bit about what goes on around here?”

“Of course” She smiled, and patted the place next to her.

Kan took the seat, and they fell into conversation about the customs of the town, market on every second and fourth day of the week, and a communal celebration every few weeks on the fifth day, which included mostly food stands and dancing, among other festivities. The Zabrak, who had since introduced herself as Rhidi, told her about the mayor, pointing them out amongst the crowd of small children that they were playing with.

“It's lovely here, the community seems to be really thriving” Kan said, looking back to Rhidi to see her hesitancy before speaking.

“It is, I must admit it has been different lately” She said, a twinge of indignance in her tone.

“How so?” Kan asked, feigning innocence.

“There's just… a lot more of an imperial presence here nowadays” She began, trying to gauge Kan's opinion on the matter, “Which is fine! of course, it's just… different”

“Oh right…” Kan said, looking around at the stormtroopers patrolling the square, “When did they get here?”

“Around two standard months ago, there was suddenly double the troops, then triple, it happened so quickly” Rhidi said, keeping her voice hushed.

“Something important must be going on then” Kan prompted her.

“They've set up some kind of base for experimentation, technological I think, but that's all I know about it” She said, then sat up straighter, “But anyway, that's pretty much there is to know around here”

Kan understood and followed suit, “Thank you so much Rhidi, it was a pleasure to meet you”

“And you…”

“Oh! I'm uh- Ech-a” Kan immediately cursed her stupid mouth for speaking before she could think properly about what she was saying. “Short for Gekavi” She tried to salvage her blunder with the reasonably common Mirialan name.

“Well, I hope to see around again Eka” Rhidi said with a smile, standing up and brushing off her skirt as Kan cringed at the use of the name.

“Me too” She managed to smile before Rhidi walked away.

Kan stood and looked around the square for someone who seemed like they might know something more about the imperial presence here. That's when she noticed a man in an imperial officer's clothing watching her, a subtle smirk on his lips. She tore her eyes away and made her way around the outside of the square, and then back towards the man, bumping into him with her shoulder a little too harshly.

“Oh! I'm so sorry, forgive me” She looked up at him with widened eyes and all the innocence she could.

“It's no worry miss” He smiled at her warmly, readjusting his uniform, “You're new around here aren't you?”

“Oh dear, is it that obvious?” She said, her hand on her cheek out of fake embarrassment.

The officer chuckled, “I just don't remember seeing you before”

“Ah well, I've just moved in. I'm Gekavi” She doubled down on the name while holding out her hand and he took it in a soft grasp.

“Captain Levy” He gave his own name. He was truthfully quite a handsome man, dark curly hair that fell over his forehead neatly, dark blue eyes, and a pleasant smile.

“Captain huh? That's impressive” Kan smiled up at him disarmingly.

“Should be Commander soon” The Captain smirked at her a little, and Kan could tell he was all too happy to show off to her. This is too easy.

“Woah, how come?” She asked innocently, a small smile quirking the corner of her mouth.

“Cant tell you that I’m afraid Miss, top secret” He said with a little wink.

“Aw, that’s too bad”

Echo looked around the square from the corner, trying to keep his appearance distinctly droid-like. He finally found Kan, but his breath caught as he saw her fluttering her eyelashes up at a man - an Imperial officer - and touching his arm gently. He couldn't help the feeling of jealousy and borderline anger that bubbled up in his gut, and he made his way towards them slowly.

Kan caught the sight of Echo over Captain Levy's shoulder and felt the need to wrap up the conversation.

“Well I should be getting home, it was nice to meet you Captain, almost Commander” She smirked up at him.

“It’s Drass, but it was nice to meet you too Gekavi” He replied with a charming smile, and Kan waved goodbye before she heard him calling out to her again, “Will you be attending the festivities tomorrow?”

“I'm not sure, I still have a lot of settling in to be doing” She replied a little nervously to invite him to try and convince her.

“Well, I hope to see you there nonetheless” He smiled.

She batted her eyelashes at him for a moment, chewing on her lip, “I'll think about it”. She smiled at him and then left, noting him watching her walk away. Echo came to walk beside her as she rounded the corner to their dwelling, and she jumped a little at his sudden presence.

“That was great” She grinned at him, and his heart sunk just a little.

“It was?” He looked at her, jaw grinding when she nodded, “We're not here to just flirt with Imperials you know”

“I wasn't really flirting” Kan screwed up her face at the accusation, placing down the grocery bag on the kitchen table, “But that man is one compliment away from spilling everything. I think we should go to these ‘festivities’ tomorrow”

“So you can flirt with this man some more?” Echo asked, and Kan looked at him with disbelief and apprehension to his strange line of questioning.

“Fake flirting, there's nothing attractive about being with the empire” She pointed out, “I think he's a good first try in any case, and if we go to this thing tomorrow we might find other opportunities”

Echo conceded with a grunt, “Okay, if you say so”

Kan frowned as Echo walked into his room and shut the door. She was getting a little tired of the way he would suddenly act different around her, and she couldn't help but feel that she had done something wrong, once again. She didn't like the way his mood affected her own thoughts, and didn’t understand why she would let it happen. Had it not been the right thing to do to get the attention of an Imperial Captain? Or soon to be Commander, if he was to be believed - that seemed like a good connection to have made.

“Echo, are you coming this thing tonight?” Kan asked from outside his bedroom door.

Echo had taken to staying in his room any time that he wasn't eating or out walking around town and listening in on conversations. That was the way he had found out where their main base of operations was earlier on in the day.

He opened the door, the crease in his brow softening as he looked down at Kan. She wore a short white sleeveless dress, a red waistcoat with the top button done up, and a pair of brown leather boots. Her collarbones were adorned by a small golden necklace, and her hair tied into two pigtails with white ribbons. She looked positively breath taking, and Echo's breath had certainly been taken.

“Uh- I, um- I might stay here” He stuttered out, rubbing his neck as he looked away from her.

“Oh, okay” She said, her shoulders slumping a little.

He noted her deflated tone, “Did you want me to come?”

“I mean… yes. I'm a little nervous about talking to this officer again… and people in general really. It might just be reassuring if you were there, I don't know” She spoke, looking down at her feet, “It's okay if you don't wa-”

“No, I'll come” He replied quickly, “Let me just get changed quickly”

“Okay” Kan smiled as he closed the door, and she sat down at the kitchen table waiting for him. Within a few minutes, the door opened again and Echo stepped out in his droid disguise. Kan desperately wanted to ask him why he had chosen to disguise himself as a droid for this mission, but she decided that another time would be better.

The pair left their dwelling, into the darkness of the night, and made their way to the park just around the corner, where the event was taking place. Echo noted the way that Kan's hands tightened into fists as she looked around the festivities nervously.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked quietly.

“No, I mean- maybe stay close by, but you don't need to be right here if you don't want to. I- I'll be fine, uh- being by myself, um, if you're nearby” She replied, her brain scattered by the amount of people around.

“Hey” Echo said, pulling her around the corner and out of the view of everyone else. He flipped up his mask to talk to her, “If you're uncomfortable, we can go back, you're under no obligation to get information this way”

Kan looked up into his eyes as he leaned his hand on the wall next to her. She found them entirely captivating, a soft brown colour that was different from any of the other clones she had encountered. The intensity of his gaze calmed her from her previous worries, but his proximity had her heart racing.

“No, it's okay. I just- crowds can be a little much for me, but it's fine”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes, It'll be fine” She assured him. and he stepped back, flipping his mask down.

“Okay, let's do it” He said, gesturing for her to re-join the celebration.

Feeling emboldened by his actions, and having a need to feel safe, Kan grabbed ahold of Echo's hand, and pulled him gently through the crowd.

Echo felt as if his body had been set alight by the simple touch, and he knew that his cheeks must be bright red under his mask. His knees felt weak just from such a small gesture, but he kept his form rigid, continuing his droid-like appearance. He looked down at their hands and smiled to himself. Kan's hand was so different from his own. It was smaller, with slender fingers, but that made it fit so perfectly into his.

As they emerged from the crowd, they noticed that they were at the edge of a dance floor. Couples danced around giddily, some old, some young. With Echo's hand grounding her in the uncomfortable situation, Kan looked around and truly appreciated the beauty of the moment.

Echo felt Kan slip her fingers between his, and he looked over to her to see her looking around the festival with a smile on her face. His heart lurched at the sight. The orange glow of the warm lights scattered around the park lit her face so perfectly, bringing out each curve and dimple there was to see. For the first time, he noticed a thin scar that ran along the back of her jaw, stretching towards her ear. The urge to reach out and trace his finger along it almost overtook him, but his thoughts were interrupted as someone approached them and Kan took her hand from his.

“Eka! It's good to see you” Rhidi approached Kan with a wide smile, who in turn cringed at the fake name.

“Rhidi, you too” She smiled politely.

“I'm just on the way to find my wife, but I'll see you later!” She waved as she made her way past them, and Kan waved back, though Rhidi wouldn't have seen it.

“Eka huh?” Echo said tauntingly from beside her and Kan rolled her eyes, “Sounds awfully like someone I know…”

“Ugh, I panicked okay?” She looked at the clone, “From now on, if anyone asks my name is Gek-”

“Gekavi! You came”

Kan turned and her eyes landed on Captain Levy, making his way towards her with a wide grin. She plastered a similar expression on her own face as she greeted him.

“Captain Levy, how lovely to see you”

“Please, just Drass is fine” He insisted, “And I must say, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight”

“Oh, thank you Drass” Kan replied shyly, “You look pretty handsome yourself”

Echo felt like throwing up.

“Thank you my dear” Drass held out his hand, “May I have this dance?”

“Oh” Kan said, genuinely surprised, and hooked her pinky finger with Echo's for a moment. The Captain had not acknowledged him at all, and still didn't as he slipped the rest of his fingers into Kan's and gave her hand a firm squeeze - a quick reminder that she didn't have to do this.

“Okay then” She said, and took his hand with her free one. She looked back to Echo as she did, her hand lingering in his as she let herself be dragged away by the other man.

Echo hated the sight of it with a burning passion. His hand dropping from hers and her walking away with another man. His infatuation with Kan was admittedly rather new, but the sight in front of him just felt wrong, and his jaw tightened with indignance. He watched as the man, perfect in all ways as far as Echo could understand, swept Kan off her feet figuratively, and then literally, as the dance called for it. He tried to reassure himself that Kan was just pretending, but either she was a really good actor, or she was genuinely enjoying herself.

Self-conscious thoughts crept into Echo's mind from the dark corners of his brain, clawing their way out from hiding. I could never dance with her like that. Even if she wanted to, I don't have a hand to offer her. She looks much happier with this man, and he's an imperial of all people. And the worst thought of them all, she would never want someone like me.

Echo's breathing became shallow and he struggled to keep his rigid exterior. Kan danced with Captain Levy for a few songs, and Echo just tried to focus on the music, the band playing instruments he had never seen before. If he wasn't so distracted he'd be interested in finding out what they were. It seemed that the pair were talking about something in depth, swapping thoughts on a subject.

Then, it was time for a slow number. Kan looked hesitant, but the Captain seemingly convinced her, and they took up a more intimate position, swaying to the music together. They appeared to still be conversing a lot as they did so, Kan asking lots of questions, as was her inquisitive nature.

Echo was so vividly jealous that he started feeling dizzy.

Luckily, the song ended, and Kan said goodbye to the Captain and made her way back over to Echo. She grabbed his hand and said firmly, “We're leaving”

The feel of Kan's hand in his once more dissipated the rage that his jealousy had caused. She gripped him tightly as she wove her way through the crowd and out the other side. She didn’t relent in her grip until they were back in their dwelling, and she was pacing back and forth.

“What happened? It looked like you were enjoying yourself” Echo noted, and Kan whirled on him, pointing a finger to his chest.

“I was not. That man is nothing if not vile. He-” She said angrily, and Echo was taken aback. He had never seen her be angry at all, let alone so fiercely like this.

“He what?”

“He was- It doesn't matter” She shook her head, “He let slip the nature of what's going on here, among other things”

“Oh wow, you work fast” Echo tried to ease the tension with a small joke, and she did chuckle a little before her face fell.

“It's some kind of weapon, something that can be fitted to one-man fighters, or used on the ground. He didn't say exactly what it did, but he definitely used the word ‘destruction’ more than once” She spoke solemnly.

“Oh kriff” Was all Echo could say.

“Yeah” Kan sighed, and slumped into a kitchen chair. She pulled her knees to her chest as she often did.

“Why didn't you enjoy yourself? What did he do?” Echo asked, taking a step towards her.

“He-” She huffed, “He was just saying some really nasty stuff” She looked away from him, and Echo knelt on the floor in front of her.

“About you?”

“No, about… clones” She admitted.

Echo sighed, “Well, that's to be expected maybe, he is an imper-”

“That's not the point. The clones- you're a person Echo, and people just talk about you like you're a piece of dirt on their shoe. It's disgusting that people can be so cruel”

Echo found his heart melting at Kan's words for the millionth time. Her anger on his behalf was admirable.

“It’s okay Kan, that's just how it is”

“Well it shouldn’t be” She pouted, crossing her arms over her knees. Echo couldn’t help but smirk at her childlike actions as he stood again. “You're laughing at me”

“I'm not laughing” Echo smiled wider, a small laugh escaping.

“Yeah yeah, and I'm the queen of Naboo” Kan rolled her eyes and stood from her seat, making her way towards the stairs.

“Kan” Echo called after her, and she turned to look at him. He hesitated a little before he spoke, “Look, that man may have been an idiot in the end, but… he was right, you look really nice”

Kan smiled broadly at the compliment, her cheeks darkening, “Thanks Echo”

He just smiled at her, “No problem, I'll see you tomorrow” He walked over to the door to his room and disappeared inside.

Kan stayed stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment longer, her blush only growing deeper. Though she would not admit it, she truly had Echo in mind when she dressed herself for the night's festivities, and despite the devastating news of this weapon the imperials were building, she felt elated that he had acknowledged her appearance, and even complimented it. Maybe I'm getting somewhere with him…

[paradoxcase]

@eye-lantern:

For the white eyes, the coloring doesn't only affect the iris, the entire eye goes white and cloudy, like an eye that was burnt of with advanced cataract. I don't think anyone manufactures cosmetic contacts in BoE, especially not contacts that obscures the vision with a white film. The dye here must have been used for camouflage against the Houses, maybe by disguising as corpses, and would needs to be removable by forceful blinking to avoid handicaping them

Ahh, I see. But I mean, Ianthe didn't seem to think that blinding yourself would work to protect you from Number Seven, so I wouldn't think the Houses were doing this regularly. It does seem like someone is doing it, because there were the white-eyed guys on the Convoy from earlier, so maybe it's related to that?

For the seeing the heralds stuff, Mercymorn looked at them using a telescope and dreamed for hours when the others were not affected. Jod says she should not have looked. They may have a fear aura that permeates but perceiving this "radiation" through the eyes is worse.

That's true, and I think I mentioned earlier that none of the Lyctors running around on the Mithraeum during the fight with Number Seven in Harrow the Ninth were as out of it as Judith is now

@wellhappybirthdaytomeiguess:

There may be other more personal reasons that Pash does not want to see or have anything to do with Gideon or Gideon's body, but I don't recall if that is clear yet or not.

I don't think anything like that's been mentioned yet

Palamades seems to me to be the type of person who will start from a positive place of friendship with you unless you give him a reason otherwise. Even in GTN, he showed a great deal of friendliness and respect to Harrow even as she at times tried to give him the cold shoulder, and of course the big hug in HTN.

Well, there were other people in that book he wasn't as friendly with, like Judith (when she proposed teaming up with him, not when she was challenging him for his keys). I'm trying to remember if he interacted with the Eighth House at all, since they seemed utterly impossible to be friendly with, but I don't remember him having any scenes with them, except for maybe objecting when Mayonnaise Uncle took the white key from Cytherea. I wonder if he for some reason felt some kind of kinship with the Ninth House specifically, similarly to how Cytherea told Gideon she'd liked to imagine herself dying romantically as Ninth House nun, except obviously not like that. It seems like Sixth and Ninth have some things in common like having small populations and being generally unassuming and politically insignificant

The fractured ninth house skull at the start of the chapter is I think because of Nona impersonating Harrow. And the previous chapter's fractured third house skull is because of Crown and Ianthe's reunion.

Well, Corona and Ianthe's reunion actually happened in Chapter 20, which has a non-broken First skull, presumably for Ianthe. The broken third skull chapter is where Corona and Pyrrha talk in range of Judith's hidden microphone

Looking back I see that Chapter 19 was the Tomb with the door open and the chain broken. There was a very different Tomb picture on the other chapters where it appears, where it has a stone over the entrance and the chain is unbroken. It looks like the only other broken skull is the broken Second skull on the chapter where Pyrrha makes Palamedes promise not to go rescue the people in the cages (after which she goes out herself to kill them), so yeah, I guess the broken skulls are for people being deceptive in this book? The other odd things that stands out to me are that there are Seventh skulls on two chapters that are primarily about the school, and an Eighth skull on the chapter where the Angel has Nona shot, which is odd, because as far as I'm aware right now there are no Seventh or Eighth House characters in this book at all. I wonder if the Angel or their implant is somehow associated with one or both of those Houses? There's also an image of a tower on the chapter where Nona and Hot Sauce watch the broadcast

[bloodstainednebulae]

no one asked but like. if you feel the need to comment under mental illness positivity posts with like,,, "just remember this isnt an excuse for any bad actions!!!" or "dealing with these people can be exhausting remember to take breaks!!!",,,,,, please stop. like,,,,, we Know but this is a post For Us. we dont need you constantly telling us about how awful and abusive you think we are in Our Own Spaces. mentally ill people arent inherently abusive and,,, most of us arent,,,, whatre you gaining from adding your two cents on about How Abusive Mentally Ill People Are to a positivity post,,,, why are you doing this? tell me you conflate mental illness with abuse without saying you conflate mental illness with abuse for real

[vriskaserketdaily]

ugh okay hear me out. aravrisrose au where they run a business as psychics. vriska (fake psychic) does like your typical tarot card crystal ball fortune telling schtick, that just so happens to be scarily accurate. rose (maybe-fake maybe-real psychic) does the palmistry/tea leaves/acupuncture/reiki/spells & potions type psychicry that entails her giving u basically solid advice while learning all she can about u for future sessions to make it seem like she ~just knows~. also does tarot but as with her other stuff it's basically psychoanalysis disguised as fortune-telling. aradia (real psychic) is a medium who communes with and sends off the dead. is attending mortuary school in her time off and is a registered death doula. she Actually Does ~just know~ and was the one who reached out to start a business.

rose is available by appointment only and doesn't take calls. she has a fairly regular clientele of hippie/witchy/woo-woo types who totally swear by her, some of whom very much want to apprentice to her. vriska handles all the calls and most walk-ins, and makes her bank by overcharging tourists who are coming in "just to try" a psychic (#scam kween). her scary-accurate predictions are the only reason ppl think she's for real, because she goes a lil over-the-top in staging the scene and kinda hams up the whole spooky psychic thing to the point where part of you is like yeah she's totally fake. she's just good enough to leave you thinking she might be for real though.

aradia takes neither appointments nor walk-ins and is not available by phone. mostly she just snipes a customer from their waiting area, apparently at random, or grabs the phone from vriska's hand as she's about to start finessing. it always turns out that that person has a truly desperate and sad case, and/or is under a legit curse/haunting/other supernatural issue. whatever aradia does, it helps people, and she will often show up to her clients' homes unannounced to do . . . whatever it is she does. rose thinks aradia is just an especially subtle grief counselor, but vriska is creeped out enough by her to think she might be for real . . . but not more real than vriska! she's just a lil wacky and takes the gig too seriously.

with the three of them combined, their reputation is one of a genuine legit business that doesn't prey on the grieving and/or gullible (though those demographics are their bread and butter). aradia does not allow the other two to do mediumship, though vriska could tooooooootally pull it off, c'mon! if they do get a party that wants to have a séance, they refer them to aradia, who often says no (but sometimes says yes and produces incredibly cathartic results).

vriska and rose have a mildly antagonistic passive-aggressive work relationship because of their differing philosophies and psychic methods---rose thinks vriska is a total hack and vriska thinks rose is a psychology school dropout (not far off from the truth) and they both privately fantasize about pinning the other to the wall for some totally civil words about how to be a psychic. if you asked them though each thinks the other is a totally real psychic with very real Special Gifts and Unseen Powers. definitely.

aradia and vriska have some clearly unresolved issues from when they were both kids---rose never learns all the details but apparently vriska did something very bad when they were in middle school, and to this day believes she has to earn aradia's forgiveness. aradia seems to have moved on and generally acts neutral to friendly towards vriska, but once or twice rose has overheard vriska ugly-crying at the closed door to aradia's office, and sometimes gets the vibe of insane tension of some kind between them.

rose is aradia's favorite coworker (another reason vriska fucking hates rose's guts) because like aradia rose actually does try to help people, and rose appreciates aradia's death-positive attitude. they've actually met up outside of work a few times for coffee and bagels (on purpose---rose and vriska have run into each other at the local lesbian bar a few times, always when vriska is (pretending to be? for some reason?) messy-drunk), and aradia and rose have similar tastes in literature and music. they find each other mutually fascinating and might have even been sort of dating for a few months now?? (rose has another girlfriend they never see or meet who makes all her own clothes and has a massive garden---rose is always bringing in vegetarian casseroles or showing off the dresses this girlfriend makes her. apparently they've been dating since high school and she sounds suspiciously similar to vriska's middle-school ex kanaya, but vriska never catches rose's mystery girlfriend's name. mary something???)

eventually they start stocking books and crystals and herbs and stuff and become a full-on witchcraft shop (sorry, shoppe) that hosts workshops every tuesday night (rose's deal) but they still make bank on psychic readings and stuff. things are going pretty great for them!

until a certain pair of sleuths roll around determined to prove they're a bunch of frauds and scammers. (it's jane and terezi.)

[inkperch]

Linked Universe Zeldas:

My takes on LU style- Zelda’s. Note: I don’t really follow Linked Universe, and I don’t like a lot of their takes on the Links, so uh, don’t assume these Zelda’s dealt with the LU versions of the Links.

SS: goes by Hylia, she jokingly suggests it when they’re picking nicknames, and everyone else just pauses for a second then realises who exactly she is and freaks the fuck out, so it kinda sticks as a combination of an in-joke and just... well, she’s Hylia reborn, can’t argue with that! The others are all low-key taken aback by how not-leadery she is, she tends to be the most hands-off when it comes to planning because well- she just guards the triforce, Link is the one who earned all 3 pieces and used it’s full power. Meanwhile her descendants picked up Wisdom sometime in the intervening centuries, so she’s pretty happy to leave the plans to them and stick to being a mediator. Third most likely Zelda to pick a fight she can’t win, most likely to win despite that.

Minish Cap: goes by Shortie, bc these beanpoles tried that with Tetra and she threatened to stab them, but Minish just found it hilarious so it stuck. Surprisingly quick to pick up how to fight, occasionally gets the other Zelda’s into trouble by running off, but they usually agree with her that whatever caught her eye was actually pretty worth it, because deep down they’re all massive nerds, no matter how functional they appear. Also tends to randomly grab gifts for the other Zeldas.

Four Swords: just goes by Four, jokes about how much her Hero(es) would be annoyed by that. Usually the first to notice encroaching danger, and always the first to investigate it. At first the more combat-experienced Zelda’s were Concerned(tm) that she is the one sticking herself into unknown dangers, until she pointed out that A) she is considerably less likely to get herself caught unless Sheik wants to go, bc she knows she has less leeway to get caught than they are and B) they won’t be down a fighter for the rescue if she’s the one who gets caught, which they reluctantly concede.

OoT: goes by Regrets, which like, the other Zelda’s just hear her bitterly pick as soon as the topic comes up and immediately decide they aren’t touching that emotional baggage. It’s an mix of Child and Adult timeline Zelda, which kinda fucks her up when she thinks about it- especially seeing as she remebers both Ganondorf breaking free and killing one of the Seven Sages in the child timeline, and what became of the Hero of Time... who she remembers clinging to the thought he got to have the childhood he rightfully should’ve in the Adult Timeline, as the waves climbed up over Hyrule to seal the awakened and unchallenged Ganondorf. So yeah, she tries not to. She also remembers the start of the Defeat Timeline, where she was too late to save the Hero and was forced to lead the exhausted and scattered remains of her people to war to kill the Demon King.

Wind Waker: literally just Tetra, she also is the first to look at the less murder-happy Zeldas and give them a knife. She’s currently working on getting them all up to basic pirate crew levels of fighting without magic, just in case, and she’s constantly pestering the fight-y Zelda’s to a spar. Regrets goes along because she’s had three slightly different Zelda’s merged in her head so her skills are a little rusty, Hylia likes to do it just because people keep forgetting she learned to fight at the same school Link did, and their responses when she reminds them are funny to her. Tetra is picked up from after establishing New Hyrule, and she looks up to Hylia more than she’s willing to admit, often going to her for advice on the whole ‘founding a nation in peaceful cohabitation with the locals’ thing. Second most likely to start a fight she can’t win.

Spirit Tracks: goes by Ghost, refuses to explain the joke to any of the others and thinks she’s hilarious for it. She is, but she doesn’t need the ego stoke. They find out about the ghost thing when she accidently astral projects in her sleep at one point and wakes up to them freaking out over her corpse, which is implied to happen often. Tetra notices that she’s really really weird to train as a fighter, because she already fights pretty well but she also fights like she’s a giant fuck-off suit of armour with a sword as big as she is. She finds it amazing to get to meet Tetra, and is constantly asking her if various stories she heard as a child are actually true or if her mother just made them up or exaggerated. They were not, and Ghost thinks Tetra is the coolest person on the planet for it.

Twilight Princess: goes by Twilight, out of tribute to Midna’s nickname for her. Absolutely misses Midna, respects Regrets more than Regrets thinks she should, but she still angsts a lot about how she just surrendered to the unkillable army its implied she’s the only one who could even see properly who could turn them all into ghos- ahem. I may or may not have opinions about people thinking it’s the wrong decision from out of universe. But yeah, she absolutely angsts about it, and really looks up to Tetra and Regrets bc at least they acted, she just sat in her tower and waited for the hero she knew would be coming. Saying that though, she indulged Tetra’s pestering to fite exactly once (1), and promptly kicked her ass and went back to her book. Because really, what else was she going to do with all that free time while Link was fishing to win a Heart Container and she couldn’t leave her room? Ganondorf had to get the idea to have her use a sword somewhere.

FSA: Even among Zelda's, she stands out for how friendly she is- more than once she brought a ‘new friend’ back to camp who’d been trying to kill them seconds earlier. This got her the nickname Torch, because she shines light into even the darkest of creatures- although, Hylia would like it if she never interacted with any of the mini-Imprisoned from HW ever again please and thank you, that was a step too far for exotic pets.

(I’ll do a followup post for the Defeat Timeline, it has a lot of the older games I haven’t played and need to familiarise myself with the characters in, and it’s already getting late)

Hyrule Warriors: goes by Sheik, was unironically ready to fight her ancestor for the name, but Regrets doesn’t really care. Speaking of regrets, upon learning that Regrets did the exact same disguise in the Adult timeline, Sheik immediately wants to go stab Cia (and maybe Lana too) for letting her think she was getting away with the disguise when Cia had literally seen the exact same trick just one timeline over. (post post-game definitive edition, so Cia has her redemption arc) She also was never meant to be the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, and views it as a burden- without Cia’s interference, the Triforce of Wisdom and it’s visions would’ve been passively sitting in the royal vaults instead of etched into her hand, but fate got confused when the Triforce had been split, but the one who should inherit Wisdom was much better suited to Courage. This leads to a bit of a disconnect sometimes, where fate has changed her into a suitable host for the Triforce of Wisdom, but she just kinda isn’t one. She’s also a MASSIVE nerd (I saw those TP references in Linkle’s Twilight stage Nintendo! She literally started dropping random history quotes after almost dying, the nerd) so she’s constantly fangirling over all her famous ancestors, because if anyone had managed to hear legends from all 3 timelines, it would be HW Zelda. The most likely to pick a fight she can’t win, she literally only pretends to be functional and have impulse control when they’re in her Hyrule and her people can see her.

BOTW:

Both BoTW Zeldas avoid each other like the plague because yeah, that’s a physical manifestation of my failures. They’re not consolidated like OoT was for bonus angst- because just merging them would show her there’s a happier timeline where all of her friends survived and Hyrule didn’t fall and crumble to ruins while she and Link took a 100 year nap.

AoC: goes by Terrako, because why the hell not. Has Terrako with her, which gets confusing, but he’s an adorable Eggy Boi, and basically team mascot. Is using her Master Cycle+Sheikah Slate movesets, bc she tried to use her Goddess bow moveset and reality just kinda glitched bc there were two Zelda’s using the exact same power, and they both agreed to never try that again. 

BoTW: goes by Architect, because that’s what she spends half her time doing these days. Regularly nerds out with Sheik. Low-key dying inside from self-worth issues rearing up again now that she’s hanging out with all these legendary queens, but tries not to let it show and keep with a positive attitude, too mixed results.

[chibicalzones]

skz x karasuno

part 1 of kpop groups x haikyuu!!

[a/n Yes you may have seen this before, but this is our version >:) ] 

Man this is a short group of volleyball players 

A GROUP FULL OF HINATA AND NOYAS - lissa 

I cant even call them short when changbin is an inch taller than me- chloe 

bang chan - daichi

a dad™

both of them share a lot in common tbh

both are compassionate leaders 

they care a lot for their peers, hardworking, selfless

very soft and generally fun people to be around

also inviting and social people as well

as much as they are fun, they also know when it's time to be serious

whether you know them or not, you will always highly respect them regardless

also, i feel like bang chan would be really good as a receiver

strong, trust, responsible receiver who’s got your back 

always count on the two of them to be there for you

bonus: their muscles-

changbin - tanaka 

wants to fite everybody, will fite everybody 

the fricken difference in personalities for this boy, good lord

don't ever underestimate changbin’s height 

comes off very scary once you first meet them

once fired up, the both of them are energetic and unstoppable

boys that never give up and always support you wherever

changbin would be a good wing spiker in all honesty

you see those muscles -  perfect for spiking the ball

packed with power and an urge to win

freaking blows everyone away

a literal monster on the stage/court

but once they’re off that? 

big softies

CUDDLES EVERYWHERE 

literally if you see changbin in private, you would think he’s the youngest because of how soft and uwu he is 

tanaka and changbin are both mentally strong

he shuts up all the people who doubt him and talk shit about him in an instant

cause when he’s up on the stage, he blows them away B) 

they may look like just your average guy, but you can bet that they gives it their all and be someone you can count on

minho - tsukishima

pls minho as tsukki; name a better match-

both are fricken savages 

don't mess with either of them unless you don't want to live another day

vvvv intimidating when you first see them

seems like they don’t care most of the time with their stoic rbf faces

but in reality, both really do love what they do (and their friends) and try their best 

tsunderes ngl

both vital and essential parts of their groups

one of the most level-headed people of the group

yet probably one of the most easiest people to annoy lmao

you’d think for someone who always has something teasing to say, they’d be hard to fluster 

not for these boys 

mostly the fluster comes from the surprise of their roast being roasted  

bonus: both attract cats to them (minho attracts soonie, doonie, dori,, while tsukki attracts kuroo) 

meow meow

hyunjin - oikawa 

yeah he isn't karasuno shush 

there’s only 1 drama queen in haikyuu 

and that title goes to seijoh’s captain and all around milk bread enthusiast, shittykawa

absolute visuals like goddamn-

also extremely popular with the people (have you SEEN how popular they are)

you don't stan them? that's okay because we all know you will eventually

there’s a point in all of our lives we go “shit i LOVE THEM” 

tried and true - take it from a former oikawa anti

like their looks may deceive you to think that they’re a delicate flower 

but goddamn, do they prove you wrong 

these two have worked themselves hard to get where they are now, despite people telling that they have it easy because of their looks and talent 

aces of their teams

okay and i see them playfully annoying their friends

“iwa-chaaaan~~”

*flashback to when hyunjin spilled coffee on his clothes* nOoOOooO

jisung - nishinoya

they’re both crazy crazy sexy cool 

hinata may be hyper, but these two will literally want to make you cry from

both very lively and energetic and just so fricken friendly

draws a lot of people/attention towards them cause of their personality uwu

a lot of people overlook them because on the outside, they just see a goofy airhead and not someone who should be taken seriously 

THAT”S WHERE THEY’RE WRONG 

YOU SHOULD TAKE THEM SERIOUSLY 

DONT BE FOOLED BY THEIR JOKES AND CUTE LOOKS 

they wow everyone with their talent because they’re just that amazing 

guardians of their teams, no joke

always got your back no matter what

also both hate school-

all in all, best bois  

felix - hinata (aka thE SUN)

both are literal suns, fight me on this i DARE YOU

literally such hard-working people

both working from the bottom and striving to improve

no matter what, they stay positive active balls of energy 

a smile from both of them can instantly brighten up your day

how could you hate them?

angels in disguise i say

easily befriends people and a lot of people are amazed by them

ex: when idols hear felix’s voice and dance & when people see hinata perform on court

“cookin like a chef, im a five star michelin” (that day was a day to go down in the books-)

“tF WAS THAT JUMP AOVDBUV THE QUICK HOLY SHIT”

if skz had their own anime, no doubt felix would be the main character

felix is just main character material, just like hinata

bonus: when felix had orange hair- spot the difference, i bet you can’t

seungmin - sugawara 

look, they may look like an angel, but they are a literal devil in disguise 

they’re both very caring and friendly, just very kindhearted 

very affectionate to the people they love

pls and they are so adorable when happy 

a reliable and trustworthy friend who you can always go to

but under that nice/kind boy next door, there’s a cheeky mischievous side

literally will roast you with a smile on their face and anime flowers blooming behind him

you can’t get mad at them when they’re like that ;-; 

would pay for them to do that to me no joke-

everybody gangsta till seungmin and sugawara find out you hurt a friend 

pls i can assure you that you won’t even be able to looks their friends in the eye anymore 

you will be teased/roasted brutally out of existence  

bottom line: fluffy adorable boys but don’t ever mess with them or make them angry unless crying is your new favorite pastime  

jeongin - yamaguchi

SWEET SPRING/SUMMER CHILD 

babies of the group

young and taller than most in the group

always improving and learning from their elders

overlooked and underdogs unfortunately

but once they improve and get their well deserved spotlight

“oh honey you got a big storm coming-”

doted on and supported by their older members/teammates so much

even though they stumble and make mistakes, they pick themselves back up to try try try again 

again duality problems smh 

goes from cutie patootie to fricken badass in the span of 2 minutes

if one of their friends even THINKS of speaking bad about themselves 

these two will smack that friend full on with praise, love, and compliments 

pls treasure these boys and give them all your love

you won’t regret it

jeongin/yamaguchi supremacy im calling it- 

[skzsauce01]

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 2

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: none... yet

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name,

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

Jisung is waiting for fourth period to begin and homeroom announcements to be over when he overhears two girls discussing the play. He stops doodling in the margins of his notebook once he hears you being mentioned.

“She’s so lucky! She gets to kiss Hwang Hyunjin!” the one with the ponytail exclaims.

So that’s Romeo’s name. He makes a mental note to look him up on Facebook and Instagram later.

Her voice then drops to a whisper. “I heard they kissed during in-class rehearsal.”

Jisung snorts and quickly disguises it as a sneeze. Stage kisses in school productions are almost always fake; based on his experience, there’s usually a hand hiding obscuring the kiss, so the actors get as close as possible without actual contact.

“She’s so lucky,” the other girl sighs. “Oh, Y/N, Y/N! Why did you have to get the part of Juliet and not me?” she dramatically says.

Jisung silently agrees but for a totally different reason and goes back to drawing sunbursts when the conversation turns into a debate about who would be the second best choice for Romeo.

Jisung leaves his belongings in the green room after school and sits with Chan behind the soundboard while he waits for rehearsal to start. Chan is busy with testing new sound effects and new music choices, so Jisung scrolls through Hwang Hyunjin’s Instagram. He only finds food pictures and some videos of him dancing. Nothing incriminating.

“Hey, did you bring dinner today? Me, Felix, Changbin, and Jeongin were planning to go to the convenience store during dinner break,” Chan invites.

Jisung has a bowl of instant noodles and a thermos of hot water in his backpack. “I’ve got food already.”

“Ah, next time then!”

“Actors! To your places!” comes through on the loudspeaker, and Jisung hurries backstage. The balcony is being pushed back to the center of the stage already. He shimmies through the gap between the wall and the main curtain, trying not to trip on any cables. Changbin is sitting with his giant binder open and his headset on. He points to another headset on the table, and Jisung takes it and puts it on. The comms are already abuzz with bad jokes and the sounds of turning pages.

The side door opens, and you rush in, adjusting the circlet in your hair. Your lips close and part, and Jisung can only imagine the swears you’re mouthing. He wants to shout something encouraging, but that would only delay you. He also has no idea what he would say anyway. The floor lights for the cyclorama tint your whole body blue as you hurry to the stairs for the balcony. You make it to the top just in time.

Ms. Park tells Hyunjin to start from “She speaks.” To Jisung’s delight, Hyunjin has not improved from yesterday, and his delivery only is slightly better than monotone. Meanwhile, you look as crestfallen as you possibly can. You rest your cheek on one hand and gaze into the distance, which turns out to be the back of the auditorium where the soundboard and light board are. Romeo likens Juliet to an angel, and Jisung agrees —  you’re beautiful, bright, and out of his reach.

Hyunjin ends his lines, and it’s your turn to say the most famous line of the entire play: “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

Your cries resonate with him; why did Hyunjin have to be Romeo? If he knew that you were going to audition for the lead role, he would have too. If the current Romeo managed to get the part, then he would have had no problem. He could have been the one looking up at you, telling the world how lovely he thought you were.

Though he’s far away and off to the side, he sees the way you glow as you recite your lines. Your passion radiates off of you, and Jisung gets a direct hit. He’s so enamored by you, he doesn’t even mind when Hyunjin poorly says his lines.

It’s like that for the rest of the scene. Jisung remains standing and watches you and Hyunjin flirt in Elizabethan English. Before the scene ends, Jisung detaches himself from the curtain and positions himself by the prop table. He pretends to be rearranging the props so that as soon as the lights go out and the tech crew members on stage left drag the balcony back into the wings, you speedily walk to the other wing where he is.

It’s strange to be excited by a mundane act, but that’s what love does, he supposes. He whispers, “Be careful of the cables,” at you.

“I know,” you whisper back. There’s no sharpness to it; it’s just a simple statement.

You brush past him, and your arm, raised from holding your skirt, knocks into his elbow. He stiffens, and you murmur an apology before leaving through the side door.

After a less than satisfactory scene four, the director decides it’s time for a dinner break. There’s a few cheers in the comms and an audible sigh of relief from the girl playing Nurse. Ms. Park reminds them that dinner will end at 6, so she expects them to be back in the auditorium by then. Changbin is already leaping out of his chair and running down the stairs on the side of the stage. Jisung imagines that Chan, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin are just as ready to eat; they were discussing what to buy for dinner right when the scene started.

Jisung follows the other members of the crew to the classroom for dinner. The room is just as crowded as before, and there’s a long line to use the microwave. Jisung squeezes through the groups of people and gets out his meal.

“That’s a smart idea,” a familiar voice comments. When he looks up from his water pouring, he sees that it’s you.

He looks at the glass container in your hands and realizes that you’re one of ones waiting to heat up your food. “Your dinner’s probably better though,” he lamely responds. His face begins to feel warm, and it’s not from the steam.

“It’s the slightly burnt fried rice I made three days ago,” you smile. “Wanna trade?”

He wants to say yes so badly. But it would be better to play it cool, right? The panic must have shown on his face since you laugh and say, “Knew it.”

The line shuffles forward and so do you. He turns back to his food, disappointed that he didn’t take you up on your offer. He likes fried rice.

(And you, but that’s only the tiniest bit relevant to his plight.)

He is halfway through his meal when the chair in front of him is pulled out. You sit and set your container down. He smells kimchi with a touch of smoke.

“Hi,” you say. The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Any chance you’re willing to trade?”

Jisung shakes his head, playing along. “I’m half way through mine already, sorry.”

“Darn.”

There’s a moment of silence before he decides to break it. “Your name’s Y/N, right?”

“Mhm.” You swallow your rice. “It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but… I don’t actually know yours,” you slowly say. “And we’re eating together, which makes it doubly embarrassing.”

The way you say it makes Jisung’s heart pound. It’s like a date, but not really. “I’m Jisung.”

“The props guy, right?”

He shakes his head “I’m part of the floor crew. ”

“Oh! I saw you by the props earlier, so I thought you were. And you’re always watching the play, so I thought you were waiting for cues or something.”

A wide variety of curses appear in his mind. He can’t let you know the real reason why.

“No! I just really like Shakespeare,” he makes up. More unnecessary lies flow out. “Romeo and Juliet is a really great play. I love the plot and the characters. Speaking of, our play is going to be so great. You — I mean, the entire cast is perfect.”

You light up at the compliment, and Jisung swears he’s looking directly at the sun. “You think so?”

You’re far too amazing to be stupid, naive Juliet, but he nods his head anyway. “You’re a good actress.”

“How do you feel about Hyunjin then? Does he live up to your expectations?”

The brainless Romeo who only pursues Juliet out of lust? “Yeah. He’s exactly like Romeo.”

“Hyunjin will be happy to hear that,” you say. You glance at the clock, and Jisung does too. It’s only a few minutes away from six o’clock. “Dinner’s almost over. Darn, I need to get into costume, too.”

While you pick through the less appetizing portions of your meal, Jisung finishes the last of his noodles. Not a minute passes before you snap the lid back on the container and jump out of your seat. You hurriedly say goodbye and run out the door to the dressing room.

Jisung stays seated, processing what happened. Was it a friendly conversation or flirting? Did you eat dinner with him because you felt bad for him or because you were interested in him? He replays the last few minutes in his head. You started the conversation and chose to sit at his table, so it had to mean something. You joked with him and beamed at his compliment, but you also brought up Hyunjin and no one else. He sighs and leans back in his chair before someone yelling the time makes him jump out of it.

He helps set up the next scene before watching the play from stage right like before. He feels strangely betrayed when he hears how desperately you, as Juliet, want to hear Romeo’s message after getting his hopes up at dinner. His brain knows it’s not real, but his heart thinks otherwise. He paces in a small circle to try and get out his nervous energy. He stops after a minute and forces himself to think of something else. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s him that you’re referring to; he’s the one you want to marry.

In his daydream, you stand in front of him in a white dress and a circlet instead of a veil. The bouquet of roses in your hand matches the glowing blush across your cheeks. You look up at him through your long lashes, and Jisung can barely hold himself together at the sight of you. His hand covers his mouth to stifle his soft sobs. You’re no different. With shaky breaths, you hold a piece of paper in front you and read your vows.

“... in sickness and health. I promise to love you until death do us part,” you manage to say through your tears.

The minister pronounces you husband and wife, and Jisung reaches out to cup your face. In reality though, he is only able to touch air. The pretty stained glass of the church is soon swallowed by the darkness of backstage. There’s no organ playing, only Changbin yelling at him in his ear to get ready for Act III.

The first scene of Act III features a poorly choreographed sword fight, two deaths, and not you. In other words, nothing of Jisung’s interests. Rehearsal ends after the scene is finished, and Jisung halfheartedly listens to the tech director’s notes. Like yesterday, he gets called out for not paying attention enough to calls. He once again promises to do better, but Mr. Gi and Changbin don’t look like they’re buying it. He really has to do better tomorrow.

When everyone is finally dismissed, Jisung goes back to the classroom in hopes of seeing you before he goes home. The actors are still receiving notes from the director, and it doesn’t seem like she’s going to be done soon. He tries to catch your eye while he grabs his belongings, but you’re fully listening to Ms. Park. To add to his disappointment, he notices that Hyunjin is sitting by you. Thus, Jisung “accidentally” opens his textbook, sending all his papers to the floor, hoping that you take notice. You do and give him a sympathetic smile.

He plays “Marry You” on the drive back home and sings along, thinking of you.

~ ad.gray

[danger-xylophones]

Changed Your Name (Captain Rex x Jedi! Reader)

This can be seen as a sequel to Uncharted or predating it

Summary: You and Rex don’t always have time to call but you do find ways to talk

Warnings: none except for some slightly suggestive language, I put it into a text conversation format and I used female pronouns

Word count: 2383 words {masterlist}

[Cyar’ika]

!!!

Three exclamation points. This was how this conversation started. Now, Rex would like to think that he has holochatted with you enough times to get a grasp on the bizarre shorthand you used. You had explained to him that the people of your planet primarily holochatted (or ‘texted’ as you told him it was called on your home planet) using shorthand. So, naturally, Rex made it his duty to figure out how to communicate the same way. However, the captain wasn’t particularly good at it and he still had a lot to learn. Case in point: the three exclamation points. What did those mean? Were you in trouble? You were supposed to be on leave right now. Suddenly, the captain’s earlier anxieties returned. He never liked leaving you alone on Coruscant (even if you weren’t really alone, you had your entire battalion along with the Jedi) but now he was extra concerned because there was little he could do to help you as he was off-world and currently setting up camp for the night.

[Captain Rexy]

What? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Was there an attack? 

Cyare, what’s going on?

The captain was on the verge of a crisis and suddenly very grateful for the helmet aiding in disguising his growing panic. 

[Cyar’ika]

Rlx, Rexy, m fine. But look-

You sent him a picture and Rex sighed in a cross between affection, relief, and soft frustration at his needless worrying. The picture wasn’t of great quality, a little grainy and very dark which told Rex you were out at night. However, before he could begin to panic because you were out at night and anything could happen to you, Rex took notice of the corner of a sign indicating you were in the alleyway beside 79’s. Most likely, you had headed to the clone hang out with your boys and had simply stepped out for a breath of fresh air. Rex knew that you weren’t a people person and that you could easily be overwhelmed even by your own men. 

Rex could also see the tip of your thumb slightly covering part of the picture which told him that you had taken this picture in a rush. But what had caused that rush was in the center of the image; a little tooka kitten that looked to be a light shade of blue with darker, almost black spots dotting over its face and back was sitting on top of your boot-clad foot grinning up at him seemingly through the image. 

[Cyar’ika]

Can we keep him? 

he’s so cute

he jst plopped down on my foot

[Captain Rexy]

No.

[Cyar’ika]

wut

Why not? 

[Captain Rexy]

You already have a tooka that goes on missions with you. 

[Cyar’ika]

Yeh but this would be OUR tooka

[Captain Rexy]

As tempting as that is, no

[Cyar’ika]

:(

[Captain Rexy]

Still no.

[Cyar’ika]

:’’’’’’’(

[Captain Rexy]

Cyare…

[Cyar’ika]

We could name him Rex Jr. too

Rex couldn’t help but shake his head and sigh whilst ignoring the way his face warmed. You were always like this whenever you saw an animal you deemed cute. He remembered the first time you had shown him the tooka you adopted early on in the war and Fritz told him the story of how he argued with you for maybe five minutes before you eventually went ahead and adopted it anyway. You named it Snake due to the markings it bore which gave it a reptilian look and it was the unofficial mascot of your battalion. And the damn thing hated Rex. So, the captain wasn’t ready to share your affection with yet another living being. 

[Captain Rexy]

No.

[Cyar’ika]

But he could be the mascot or the 501st

[Captain Rexy]

We can’t keep him. 

End of story.

[Cyar’ika]

:/

Boo. 

…[Cyar’ika] changed your name…

[Cptn Stick-In-The-Mud]

Really?

[Cyar’ika]

:0 

How did that happen?

…[Cptn Stick-In-The-Mud] changed [Cyar’ika]’s name…

[The-Most-Annoying-Jedi]

?

oh

Didn’t know you thought you were texting Anakin this whole time

A chuckle escaped Rex as he read your response, catching the attention of some nearby troopers and the general in question. The captain was quick to disguise his chortling as a random coughing fit so he wouldn’t have to explain himself. Anakin, however, still sent him a raised eyebrow that Rex quickly waved away before returning his attention to your ongoing conversation when the general was distracted by a ding coming from his wrist.

…[The-Most-Annoying-Jedi] changed your name… …[The-Most-Annoying-Jedi] changed their name… …[General Ice] added [Anakin Skywalker] to the chat…

[General Ice]

Tell your captain to stop arguing with me

[Anakin Skywalker] 

Oh, so it’s you that’s got my captain so distracted.

Rex, stop arguing with Y/n.

Rex pulled a face underneath his bucket before sending an incredulous look at Anakin who was smugly smiling back at him. He would have liked to say that he was taken aback by you adding Skywalker to the conversation but you’d done this before. 

[Captain Rex]

But, sir, she’s being unreasonable.

[Anakin Skywalker]

How so?

[General Ice]

I want Rex to make this little guy the mascot of the 501st

You sent another picture. In this one, it was clear that you were back in 79’s, crammed into a booth with Commander Fritz on one side and Bolt on the other, and peaking out over the top of your shirt was the little tooka. The little furball was smiling again, this time in contentment as he was undeniably warm and safe. The captain felt the familiar worm of ugly green wriggling around; he should be lying against your chest, not that little monster. 

[Anakin Skywalker]

Force…

He’s adorable

[Captain Rex]

No, not you too

Why don’t you keep him?

[General Ice]

I would, gladly, but look at him-

Another picture, this time of only the tooka as he was curled up in the palm of what was probably Fritz’s hand. 

[General Ice]

Look at  his lil ol’ face 

Yet another, zoomed in on the creature’s face. 

[General Ice]

Plus he’s blue

And I already have Snake

[Captain Rex]

And that brings me to the very first objection I made

[General Ice]

That was not

[Captain Rex]

Yes, it was, general

Your reply didn’t come through immediately and for a second, Rex was worried he had angered you by using your title. He knew that you didn’t like being referred to by it. But, his fears were laid to rest when your response came through. 

[General Ice]

Ok, so, maybe it was

:P

But still-why can’t he be your battalion’s mascot?

He’s friendly, protective, trustworthy and v loyal

Jst like the men of the 501st

[Anakin Skywalker]

Those are all valid

Why can’t we keep him, Rex?

The captain suddenly felt like walking into the ocean. By now, he had taken off his helmet and switched to his datapad as he sat by the fire beside the other general he was now about to argue with. 

[Captain Rex]

General L/n had the added luxury of Snake being partially trained when she  found him

None of the men in our battalion would have time to train the little guy.

On top of that, General L/n has her own apartment where the tooka can stay.

You do not, General, so, he would have to stay aboard the Resolute.

Or, he’d stay in the temple or the barracks where he’d only be underfoot. 

The captain leaned back in his seat, eager to see the response to his well-crafted arguments. Anakin’s eyes were busily flicking over the screen of his own pad as he tried to think of a comeback and Rex could just imagine you making that ridiculously adorable face you always make when you know you can’t win an argument but are determined to try. Your eyebrows would knit together and your lips would form into a minuscule pout, after that, your nose would crinkle just a little bit as your eyes would focus on something unseen. Then, suddenly, you’d snap back to reality with your rebuttal on your tongue. Maker, he missed your face. 

[Anakin Skywalker]

I hate to say it, Ice, but Rex has a point. 

We can’t take him.

[General Ice]

It’s alright

But we have to do something for the little guy. 

He was just shivering on top of a trash can when I walked by the alley. 

He perked up when I made him realize I wasn’t a threat

And he’s so skinny, he could die and it’d be my fault.

There you go again, letting the facade of the ‘Ice general’ melt away to reveal the compassionate, loving girl Rex held so close to his heart. A wave of guilt suddenly crashed over the captain and he wanted nothing more than to hold you. Rex caught Anakin’s eye and they both seemed to share the same guilt though Rex wasn’t certain the general understood how far his feelings delved.

[General Ice]

Wait, didn’t Padme say she wanted to get a tooka?

[Anakin Skywalker]

Yeah, how did you know?

[General Ice]

I overheard part of your holo call like a week ago

I recommend making sure your door is shut before you do those btw

Do you think she’d want the little guy?

[Anakin Skywalker]

Maybe, how old do you think he is?

[General Ice]

Not sure, I’d wager around two and a half months old

[Captain Rex]

And you’re sure he doesn’t belong to anyone?

[General Ice]

Positive. 

So?

[Anakin Skywalker]

I think that’s perfect! 

Thanks

[General Ice]

Thank you, actually, for taking that off my conscience

I’ll take him to the vet and get him all checked out tomorrow

For now, he’ll be living in my room in the temple

Oh, and I request visitation rights

[Anakin Skywalker]

Pfft, I’m sure Padme won’t mind

[General Ice]

Oh, and one more thing.

[Anakin Skywalker]

??

[General Ice]

Padme needs to make him the official mascot of the 501st on Coruscant.

Rex’s face dropped as he stared apathetically at his datapad, by now most of his brothers had retired for bed and thus he could be a bit laxer with his facial expressions. Of course you would figure out a way to undermine him. Anakin could be heard laughing to the captain’s right and Rex just bowed his head in defeat. 

[Anakin Skywalker]

Done. 

Alright, I’ll let you two lovebirds get back to gross couple talk now

[General Ice]

It’s not gross!

:P

And you can’t say that when you have ‘gross couple talk’ with Padme at two in the morning!

[Anakin Skywalker] 

How did you…?

[General Ice]

Shut. your. door. and. WINDOWS. hotshot. 

My room is right next to yours, peedunky.

…[General Ice] removed [Anakin Skywalker] from the chat… …[General Ice] changed their name… …[Y/n] changed your name…

[Cptn-Stick-In-The-Mud]

Cyare…

I’m sorry.

[Y/n]

Y’know, maybe I should start dating Fives-

He at least likes to have fun

;P

Rex snorted unceremoniously, seeing right through your bluff. 

[Cptn-Stick-In-The-Mud]

Please, we both know you’d strangle him when he got a little too handsy

Besides, 

You knew that we couldn’t keep the little guy

…[Cptn-Stick-In-The-Mud] changed [Y/n]’s name…

[Cyar’ika]

I know

I just got excited at the idea of having a little one for us to take care of

:’)

Rex’s face grew warm once again. The two of you had talked about your future together and whether or not you eventually wanted children. You’d been on the fence about it...until now.

[Cptn-Stick-In-The-Mud]

I wish I was there to hear you say that in person

…[Cyar’ika] changed your name…

[Cyar’ika]

Believe me, I wish you were here too

;)

Oh...Rex’s armor suddenly felt a little too tight. The captain couldn’t help but smile at your boldness as he struggled to craft a flirty reply.

[Cptn Sexy]

There isn’t a moment where I stop missing you

...

[Cyar’ika]

Ner mesh’la alor’ad…

That’s so sweet

…you changed your name…

[Cyar’ika]

Why did you change it? 

It’s accurate

…[Cyar’ika] changed your name...

[Cptn Sexy]

Y/n…

[Cyar’ika]

;)

...you changed your name…

[Cyar’ika]

:(

[Rex]

Cyar’ika, please

[Cyar’ika]

:(((

[Rex]

:|

[Cyar’ika]

:/

You’re catching on

[Rex]

:/

...you changed your name…

[Captain Rexy]

Better?

[Cyar’ika]

(*.* ) 

Almost

…[Cyar’ika] changed your name…

[Cyar’ika]

There

<3

[Rexy]

Whatever makes you happy.

[Cyar’ika]

Oh, believe me, this does

I miss you-please hurry home

[Rexy]

I’ll try, ner cyare, I’ll try

[Cyar’ika]

I know you will

You sent another picture. In this one, you were already in bed, hair fanned out over your pillow with the duvet pulled up to your nose but the covers weren’t enough to hide the dazzling smile. Just above your head was the infamous tooka, Snake, sound asleep on the pillow. His deep red fur looked glossy and freshly brushed and the black markings on his face added a seriousness to his furry little image. You must have snapped this picture mid ear-twitch because one of his black striped ears was blurry. In the curve of Snake’s body was the younger tooka you had found who looked like he had received a bath and a brushing for his fur looked less matted and much shinier than in any other picture. Both of the animals were completely passed out and it was easy to tell that you would soon be following their lead. You just had to turn off the lamp on your bedside and Rex knew that you would be dead to the world for a few hours till you woke up curled around his pillow with the tookas wedged between you. You looked happy but Rex could still see the longing in your eyes. 

 [Cyar’ika] 

We’ll see you when you get back. I love you, always. 

…[Cyar’ika] changed your name... 

[Cyar’ika] Good night. 

[Riduur] Good night, ner riduur. 

 And as night settled on the captain like a heavy blanket and Anakin ushered Rex to get some rest, he couldn’t help but think back to the image of the little tooka curled into Snake and the adoring smile you sent both the animals and him. He knew you loved him and he knew you loved those two. And suddenly, the idea of sharing your love with a little one didn’t seem so impossible. 

[jaybear1701]

Chapter Summary: Raelle and Scylla get a bit, um, physical with their training before Scylla must leave on a new mission.

Scylla’s fist slammed against the punching bag, the blow reverberating up her right arm to her elbow and shoulder. She jabbed with her left, then followed it with a right hook and a left uppercut. Muscles burning, it felt good to release all the pent up frustration that had been steadily building over the past few weeks. Here, she didn’t have to think about the Spree, the Army, or the Camarilla. Didn’t have to think about Anacostia and her lofty expectations, or about Willa and her growing disappointment. 

And, most importantly, it kept her mind off Raelle.

She threw a particularly vicious right cross, powered by an unintentional Seed sound, sending her poor workout partner flying into the air. Cassidy landed a few meters away, the impact echoing loudly throughout the empty rough room. It was early enough that they would still have the space to themselves for at least a few minutes more before it would be crammed full of eager War College soldiers. 

“O-kay,” Cassidy groaned as she rolled to her side, slowly pushing herself up into a sitting position. “I think I’ve had about enough of that.”

“Sorry, Cass.” Scylla walked over, clasped Cassidy’s wrist, and helped pull her to her feet. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Wincing, Cassidy palmed the back of her head, just under her ponytail. “Sadly, this’ll probably be the highlight of my day.” 

“Training’s going that well?” Scylla wiped sweat from her forehead with a small towel, and flapped her sleeveless gray shirt to cool off.

“I think that one mean sergeant with, uh, you know, the eyes… the scary eyes. Quartermaine?” Cassidy shuddered. “I thought she was for sure gonna liquefy me because they weren’t ready for the next mission. Actually, she’d probably do it anyway if she caught you and me,” she curled her fingers into air quotes, “fraternizing.”

Scylla chuckled. “Try not to let Anacostia scare you.”

“Is this where you tell me her bark is worse than her bite?” Cassidy gave her a skeptical side-eye.

“Oh no, they’re equally terrifying,” Scylla half-grinned, walking to the edge of a sparring mat and exchanging her towel for a water bottle. “Just try not to let her scare you, anyway.” 

“Great, thanks,” Cassidy muttered, grabbing her own drink and guzzling it down. “Between her and Collar’s kid, I’m not sure who hates me more.”

Scylla’s hand stilled as she brought the bottle to her lips. “You’ve, um, met Raelle?” She kept her voice light and uninterested, hoping it belied the way her pulse quickened.

“Met?” Cassidy grimaced. “No. But she gives me the evil eye every time I see her. What’s up with that?”

What, indeed. Scylla shrugged noncommittally even as her stomach fluttered. 

“At least I won’t have to see either of them for a while after today,” Cassidy said. 

Scylla’s brow scrunched up. “What do you mean?”

“It means you’re being dispatched in less than 12 hours,” Willa Collar’s voice cut in.  “Which you would have known if you’d bothered to show up to last night’s debrief.”

The hair along the nape of Scylla’s neck rose as she turned to watch Willa approach, lips pursed, boots clicking ominously on the hard floor. She was in uniform, crisp and neatly pressed. The perfect image of the perfect soldier. It was impressive, really, how well Willa could disguise herself in a lie. Scylla really had learned from the best.

Willa aimed a thin smile at Cassidy. “Do you mind if we have a minute, Cass?” It wasn’t a request.

“Sure thing, Boss.” Cassidy nodded, gave Scylla a look that implied behave, and headed out.

Scylla uncapped her bottle and took a long drink, if only to prolong the inevitable. The cold water did little to soothe the dryness in her throat as Willa peered at her in that unnerving way of hers, cold and appraising. Scylla still remembered when her blue eyes had been warmer and full of life. The past year clearly had not been kind. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Willa said when they were alone. 

“No, I’ve been busy with assignments you’ve forced on us.” Scylla set her water back down. “There’s a difference.”

“And how have those been going?”

“I thought you read all of my scintillating status reports.”

Willa lifted one eyebrow. “I want to hear it from you.”

“Most of them understand the basics of the Work,” Scylla said. “Craven and Moffett show the most promise, but none can maintain it under duress. Not yet.” They had all been frustrated in the last session when Scylla had dispelled their Work with a simple Seed of Disruption. 

“And Raelle?”

There it was. The real reason behind Willa’s questioning. All their conversations always came back to Raelle, eventually. Scylla was surprised it took this long.

“She should probably stick to Fixing.” That wasn’t exactly true. Raelle was no better or worse than the others, but Scylla wanted to get a rise of Willa. And it worked. 

Willa exhaled loudly, annoyance seeping into her already tense posture. “I mean, how is she?”

“Ask her yourself.” Scylla crossed her bare arms. 

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?”

“Try harder.”

Willa’s eyes flashed, dangerous like a stormy sea. “If you had just done your job to begin with–”

“And if you had just told her the truth,” Scylla interrupted, her own ire rising with the agitated beats of her heart. “You wouldn’t be in this mess. And neither would I.” 

“You know why I couldn’t.” Willa took an intimidating step closer and Scylla resisted the urge to retreat. 

Scylla did know. Knew all too well the lengths people would go to if it meant keeping their loved ones safe. But still… 

“I’m not helping you with Raelle. I thought I made that clear.” Scylla closed the gap between them even further. “I won’t hurt her. Ever again.”

Willa’s vice-like control over her emotions slipped. “She’ll be hurt if she stays in the Army. Or worse. You know that. She belongs with me. With us.”

“She’ll get hurt with us, too,” Scylla whispered, taking no victory when her words hit their mark and hurt rippled across Willa’s face. “But whether she stays or goes, that’s her decision to make. Isn’t that what you wanted? To give her the choice you didn’t have?”

Scylla stood her ground, planting her feet firmly on the proverbial hill she’d die on, neither of them wanting to be the first to flinch in their latest battle of wills. The double doors of the rough room burst open as several soldiers entered for early morning workouts. One stormed up to them. 

“What are you doing here?” 

It was Raelle. 

Willa blinked, and Scylla broke eye contact, head ducked down as they both moved away from each other. Yet another stalemate ended.  

“Having a conversation,” Willa answered, mask firmly back in place. “If you can recall how those work.” 

Raelle’s gaze was icy. “Seems you forgot yourself ‘bout a year ago.”

Like mother, like daughter. The two women stared each other down, reminding Scylla of two gunslingers locked in a duel at high noon. She took the rare opportunity to observe them both, noting the similar intensity in their profiles, the same conviction in nearly identical blue eyes. Together, they were Scylla’s past, present, and future, both evoking a complicated swirl of emotions within her. 

Willa lips flattened into a tight smile. “You can stand down, Private, I was just leaving.” She turned back toward Scylla, expression clear that their discussion was far from finished. “As for you, you’ll receive orders shortly.”

With that, she left them both. 

Scylla breathed out, long and slow. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though tension lingered in her neck. Her heart rate remained elevated, far from calm now that Raelle had fixed her attention on her. 

“Are you okay?” Raelle asked tentatively, gloved fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeveless black shirt.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Scylla attempted what she hoped was a convincing smile, hating the awkwardness between them. They were friendly, but far from friends. Stuck in a limbo of polite caution where they revolved around each other at arm’s length, neither willing to disrupt their new status quo.  

“You sure?” Raelle licked her lips, an inscrutable expression on her face. “Looked like you two were about to throw down.”

“Yeah.” Scylla nodded. “You Collars are nothing if not fierce.” She began to undo the straps of her training gloves, pulling at the velcro with a sharp rip. 

“You want to work it out?”

Scylla paused, unsure if she heard correctly. “Sorry?”

“Release some steam.” Raelle self-consciously raked her fingers through her blonde hair. “If you wanted.”

Scylla’s pulse kicked up even more. “That’s not necessary.”

“Come on,” Raelle insisted. “I’ve always wanted to see a Necro in action.” She flashed a grin; nervous, but real. It reminded Scylla of carefree days long gone.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle a Necro,” Scylla scoffed, paying no heed to the way her stomach flipped.

“Then you’ve got nothing to lose.”

It was a bad idea. A terrible one. Scylla knew it. And yet Raelle looked so playful and expectant. She was trying . And Scylla couldn’t resist. 

“Fine.” She re-tightened the straps of her training gloves and walked over to the sparring mat, bouncing on the balls of her feet to shake off the nerves that crept into her confidence.

“You serious?”

“As a heart attack.” It slipped out, the phrase Willa was so fond of using, and Scylla inwardly cursed when Raelle’s easy gait stuttered as she took a position opposite Scylla. They both  assumed a fighting stance, fists up.

“Haven’t heard that in a long time,” Raelle said as she threw a few light jabs that Scylla deftly dodged.

“You can ask me, you know,” Scylla said as they circled each other on the mat. “About her. I know you want to.”

“Will you tell me the truth?” Raelle feinted a punch and followed it with a front kick. Scylla blocked and countered with her own combination of strikes, hitting only air until she finally landed a glancing blow to Raelle’s chin.

“Yes.” Scylla backed off from pressing her assault, breath growing short from the exertion and the fact that it was the first physical contact she and Raelle had shared since their reunion at the massacre site. “The more important question is: will you believe me?”

Raelle’s fingertips skimmed the spot where she’d been hit, just underneath her scar. Impressed, she smiled and put her guard back up. “You work for my mom.”

“ With her,” Scylla corrected. “But you already knew that.”

“When did you meet?”

“About two years ago. After my parents were killed.” Scylla managed to hold her emotions in check, stemming the tide that always swelled within her whenever she thought of that horrible night. “She told me her name was Wilhelmina Smith.”

Raelle paused momentarily, nostrils flaring. “Smith was my dad’s name before they got married.” 

Their dance of offense and defense continued, attacks quickly parried, breaths growing heavier. They seemed evenly matched, though Scylla wondered if Raelle was holding back, just as she was, both not wanting to hurt the other. 

“She found me a place to stay,” Scylla continued. “Where I’d be safe.” 

“With the Spree?”

Scylla nodded once.

“So you knew her for a while?” Raelle asked, a tick in her jaw, throat bobbing as she swallowed.

“No.” Scylla shook her head, managing to avoid Raelle’s attempt at a leg sweep. “She’d check in every once in a while, but I rarely saw her. Not for a year, at least.” 

Scylla could practically see the cogs turning inside Raelle’s mind as she calculated the timeline of her mother’s “death.”

“And then?”

“And then she sent orders remotely.” Orders to say the words and get conscripted. Orders to let the Army make her strong. Orders to stay away from the cell at Baylord.

“Like recruiting me?”

Scylla hesitated on her next punch, giving Raelle the opening she needed to grab Scylla’s wrist, and twist her body until she could seize Scylla from behind. 

“You didn’t know she was my mom when I was your target.” It wasn’t a question. 

“No.” Scylla struggled to break free, hands clasping at sweat-slicked skin and toned muscle that wrapped around her. 

“If you had, would you have delivered me?” Raelle’s breath was hot against Scylla’s ear. 

Suppressing a shiver, Scylla snapped herself forward, using Raelle’s own weight to flip her over her shoulder and onto the mat. Raelle landed with a hard grunt, the wind knocked clean out of her. Scylla took the advantage to swiftly pin Raelle’s arms above her head, and trap her legs between her thighs. When Raelle tried to buck her off, Scylla only squeezed tighter.

“No,” Scylla panted out, chest heaving and blood pounding in her ears. She was so close to Raelle, too close, that she could feel Raelle’s harsh puffs against her face. Could smell the familiar clean scent of the Army’s regulation soap mixed with the sharp tang of sweat. Scylla’s gaze darted from Raelle’s dilated pupils to her lips and back, a familiar ache beginning to pool deep in her belly.

A loud and exaggerated cough came out of nowhere. 

They both glanced up to see Abigail towering over them, arms crossed, a scowl on her face. Next to her was Tally, mouth dropped open and eyes so wide they could pop right out of their sockets.

“Excuse me, shitbirds, but this is a rough room,” Abigail quipped. “Not some cheap no-tell motel.”

Face on fire, Scylla immediately rolled off Raelle. They both refused to look in each other’s direction. 

***

The world seemed to tilt off-axis as Scylla stumbled through town, trying to reach the bus station before she met the same fate of her parents. She could still see the fear on both their faces as they had raised their hands in surrender; how her mom’s eyes had slid toward the garage in silent warning and love; the sickening thud of their bodies; the way the MPs chuckled after the execution. It was seared into her memory.    

A nauseating wave of anguish hit her and she retched on the side of a dark street. It wasn’t the first time that night, and it most likely wouldn’t be the last. 

Legs weak, Scylla rounded a building about a block away from the depot. She was a mess and she needed a new lighter as soon as possible, having left her favorite one in her bedroom. They hadn’t even been there a week before they were found, boxes still left unpacked around the house. 

Panic overwhelmed her already churning stomach the second she set foot inside the small station. The military was already there, with MPs stationed at each gate. As casually as possible, Scylla pulled the hood of her dirty sweater up and fixed her attention on the arrival and departure board, watching out of the corner of her eye as one bus unloaded and a few more soldiers joined the ranks. She had to get out of there.

Scylla waited until she could slip into a large enough group of departing passengers, blending in with them until she could peel away. She headed deep down a nearby alleyway, head pounding, eyes stinging, staggering until her back hit a brick wall and she slid down to the ground behind a green dumpster.

It was hopeless, she thought as she wrapped her arms around her knees and curled into a ball. She was only prolonging the inevitable. Maybe it would be better if she just gave up now and turned herself in. Join her parents in the afterlife. At least then she wouldn’t have to be alone.

“Are you okay?”

Scylla’s head snapped up and her heart stopped. A soldier approached slowly, hands up, placating. She was an older woman with blonde hair tied up in a bun.

Backing up against the wall, Scylla tried to remember one of the defensive Seeds that her parents had taught her, but was paralyzed with fear. This was it.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” the woman said, azure eyes kind. “I just wanna help.” She slowly crouched down carefully to not spook Scylla. “I’m Wilhelmina Smith.”

Scylla couldn’t speak even if she had wanted, not with the way terror gripped her throat. She was shaking so badly that she was surprised her teeth weren’t chattering.

“Listen,” Wilhelmina said softly. “If the MPs are this deep in the Cession, that means they’re lookin’ looking for one of two things: deserters or dodgers. You don’t look old enough to be a deserter. What are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

Scylla managed a nod.

“Parents?”

Try as she might, Scylla couldn’t stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks. They answered Wilhelmina’s question for her.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, but I can get you somewhere safe.” She held out her hand. “We have to move quickly, though.”

Scylla stared at the proffered hand, weighing her options between a rock and a hard place. She could take a chance with this stranger, who could be leading her to a trap. Or roll the dice and run, risking capture.  

“Why…” Scylla’s voice came out raspy and rough. “Why are you doing this?”

“I have a daughter. ‘Bout your age. If she was in your shoes, I’d hope someone would help her too.”

There was something about this woman. Something calm and gentle. Something that made Scylla want to trust her even though she had every reason not to.

Scylla took her hand anyway.

*** 

Deep below Fort Salem, the Mycelium Wall stood as it had for centuries, opaque and shrouded in mystery. White wisps swirled in a crystalline mist, undisturbed by the experiment being conducted in its space. A distorted Seed sound wrapped around the participants of the cold, gray room. Although barely audible to the naked human ear, it made the witches present wince in pain. 

“This isn’t working,” Abigail huffed out, breaking her link with Raelle and covering her ears.

Izadora, whose face was scrunched up in similar displeasure, raised a hand at Scylla, who quickly shut the lid of a small wooden box. The noise mercifully ended, and the resulting silence soothed Scylla’s frayed hearing. 

“What the hell was that?” Raelle asked, fingers massaging her temples. 

“Something the Camarilla cooked up,” Scylla said from the corner of the room. “They’ve been layering it at the massacre sites.”

Leaning back up against a wall, she pointedly avoided Raelle’s gaze as she spoke. Whatever ground she and Raelle had gained with each other–in terms of getting back to…well, not normal , by any means…but to some sort of truce–had taken a major step back because Scylla hadn’t been able to say no to Raelle earlier.

“Bastardizing our Work with the dead,” Izadora crossed her arms in disgust. 

“And this is supposed to be related to the witch bomb?” Abigail asked.

“Not necessarily.” Izadora walked in a circle around where Abigail and Raelle sat facing each other in front of the Mycelium Wall. “But we had to eliminate the possibility that the Camarilla used it on the Altai Mountains, or that it played a role in your explosion.”

Abigail slumped into her chair. “So, basically, we’re back at square one.”

“Patience, Private Bellweather.” Izadora patted Abigail’s shoulder. “This isn’t an exact science. We’ll get there.”

“There must be something else,” Scylla said. “Something small you may have missed.”

Raelle shrugged up a shoulder. “We’ve been over it a hundred times. I got stabbed.” Scylla frowned. “Abigail tried to link with me. And the next thing we knew…”

“We were walking through mushroom land,” Abigail finished.

Scylla pushed off the wall and approached the Mycelium, drawn to the power in its murky depths. It resonated in the marrow of her bones, comforting and peaceful. “No.” She stopped a respectable distance from it before Izadora could object. “Something from before then.”

“We’ve established that Private Collar had contact with the Mycelium and somehow forged a link with it,” Izadora recounted.

“Yeah, she’s got a knack for touching shit she shouldn’t,” Abigail muttered, which earned her a kick to the shins from Raelle.

Scylla turned to face Raelle. “When did it happen? And why were you down here?”

Raelle’s eyes shifted to Izadora then back toward the ground. “It was a few days after the wedding. I thought I could find answers.” Raelle looked directly at Scylla, whose breath stilled. “About you.”

Ignoring the twist beneath her ribs, Scylla focused back on the wall. This wasn’t the time to unpack that tangled revelation. “Why did you touch it?”

Leaning forward, Raelle rested her elbows on her knees, idly rubbing at her left index finger. “I dunno. I just…” She shook her head. “It felt like the right thing to do. I can’t explain it.”

“And then what?”

Raelle turned up her hands. “Nothing. I had some of it on my finger, but it’s gone now.” 

“No.” Scylla began to pace. “Something else had to have happened between then and the Tarim mission.”

“She took a shitload of Salva,” Abigail offered.

“That has nothing to do with anything,” Raelle snapped, cheeks darkening. Scylla made a mental note to dig into that nugget of information later.

“Salva exits the system within 24 hours,” Izadora noted, eyes drawn back to the Mycelium. “The doses you took should have been lethal, but they weren’t.”

“Is there anything else?” Scylla asked. “Something you might have encountered, or anyone else you may have linked with?”

“I don’t know. There was Treefine when we learned about linking.” Raelle shot another look at Izadora, who only shrugged, unfazed. “Tally at City Drop.”

Abigail suddenly sat up in her chair. “Khalida.”

“Who?” Scylla asked.

“The Tarim refugee,” Izadora answered. “Private Collar cured her of the Camarilla’s poison when even our best fixers could not.”

“After you fixed her,” Abigail snapped her fingers, “you said you normally take on the disease.”

Raelle’s eyes widened. “But I didn’t.”

“Exactly. It just disappeared. Melted into the ground.” Abigail looked expectantly at Izadora, who rubbed her chin. “What if it went somewhere else?”

“The Mycelium,” Scylla breathed out.

Izadora walked quickly to her desk and pulled out a ledger. “Around that time, I observed an unusual phenomenon with the wall. It turned black for a few moments before reverting to normal.”

“Could Raelle have transferred the poison to the Mycelium?” Scylla joined Izadora to scan the notes. 

“It’s possible,” Izadora nodded, an eager glint in her dark eyes. “Did you have any other contact with the Camarilla’s disease?”

Raelle’s lips parted. “There was a boy in the mountains. I fixed him too.”

“Right before the bomb,” Abigail confirmed, swiveling in her seat.

“It’s possible the Mycelium absorbed the poison, converted it somehow, and then released the energy through Raelle,” Izadora hypothesized then let out a short laugh. “It’s the best lead we’ve had in weeks.” 

Excitement shot through Scylla. “Have you cured anyone else since then?”

“No one else has been sick,” Raelle said.

They all fell silent, weighing the potential implications of the connections they had forged until Scylla’s wristwatch buzzed, spoiling the moment.Scylla looked at the time. She would be late if she didn’t hurry and the last thing she needed was another argument with Willa. 

“I have to go,” she said apologetically.

“What? Now?” Abigail almost sounded disappointed. “We just got started.”

“Sorry, High and Mighty. But duty calls.” Scylla nodded at Raelle, who inclined her head slightly, brow creased. 

“Good work, Ramshorn,” Izadora gave her a small, proud smile before reaching out and touching Scylla’s elbow. “We need samples of that poison,” she added, her voice low.

“I’ll see what we can do.”  

Night had blanketed Fort Salem by the time Scylla emerged from the Necro facility and returned to her temporary quarters, gongs echoing in the distance to mark the start of curfew. Despite the adrenaline coursing through her, it had been a trying day, to say the least.Exhausted, Scylla ran a hand down her face, reminding herself it could have been worse. It always could be worse. 

She entered her room, wanting nothing more than to crash onto her bed and surrender to a long, dreamless sleep. But, no. She had to report back to Penelope Road. Eyeing the full-length mirror on the wall, Scylla moved to the closet and began shedding her uniform: unzipped and shrugged out of the jacket, unbuckled the belt, pulled off the shirt, and slipped out of the pants. She rummaged through the closet and fished out the jeans and light plaid shirt she had arrived in.

When Scylla was fully dressed again, she glanced at her reflection. A sense of freedom washed over her, mixed with an unexpected ripple of melancholy. Shaking it off, she tucked her Zippo into her pocket, then grabbed her journal and checked that the worn photo of her parents was still tucked safely within its pages.She pulled it out, reverently tracing their faces with the tip of her finger. Not a day went by that she didn’t wish they were still alive, wondering whether they would have approved of her path or would have been severely disappointed. Often, she feared it was the latter. 

Her mind drifted to Willa and Raelle, and their stubborness. How they had the luxury of taking new pictures, creating new memories, but would rather waste time and butt heads. It wasn’t Scylla’s place to make them see eye-to-eye. And yet…

Heart clenching, Scylla stuffed the picture back into her journal, which she placed inside a small backpack. Scylla didn’t want to leave anything of note behind, in case she didn’t make it back for a while. Or at all , her mind whispered.

The campus was quiet and still when she left the dorm, save for the occasional chirp from crickets in the grass. Scylla carefully avoided any patrols on the paths toward the pickup location at the officers’ barracks, cutting through fields and ducking behind trees when she needed. 

She was nearly in the clear, about a few hundred meters from her final destination, when a figure appeared at the end of the walkway. Scylla tensed up, expecting a dressing down by a clueless patrolwoman who knew nothing of Alder’s Accord with the Spree, only to relax when she recognized the soldier. 

Anacostia.

The sergeant, strolling with her hands linked behind her back, stopped in her tracks when her eyes landed on Scylla.

Anacostia eyed her civilian clothes and backpack. “Going somewhere?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t get the memo.” Scylla half-smirked as they drew closer to each other.

“Right.” Clearing her throat, Anacostia turned and fell into step beside Scylla. “Of course. How long will you… How long is the operation?”

“As long as it takes.” Scylla lifted one eyebrow. “Are you gonna miss me?”

“Oh, I’ll miss you like I miss a sharp stick in the eye,” Anacostia reassured her, and Scylla chuckled. 

A comfortable silence settled between them, their steps soft on the pavement. If someone had told Scylla a year ago that Anacostia Quartermaine would become one of her confidants, a steady rock amid turbulent waters, she would have laughed in their face. And Scylla would miss her while she was away.

“Is Willa Collar going with you?” Anacostia asked, almost hesitantly. 

“I’m not sure,” Scylla answered honestly, hitching her backup up higher. “But I doubt it. She’s too important to risk.”

“And you are?”

“Careful, Sergeant, I just might start to think you like me.” Scylla winked, drawing a scoff from Anacostia. “Does…” Scylla started to ask even though she knew she probably shouldn’t. “Does Raelle know?”

Anacostia paused. “No. But she’ll find out soon enough when we cancel your classes.”

Scylla’s chest twinged as she wondered if Raelle would even care that she was gone. Not that it would change anything even if she did.  

They reached the side entrance of the officers’ quarters, and Anacostia turned toward Scylla.  “How are things?”

“With Raelle?”

“With anything.”

“You’re full of questions tonight,” Scylla teased. 

Anacostia only blinked at her.

“It is what it is,” Scylla said because there wasn’t much else to say. “I have my mission. That’s enough. Izadora should have a promising update for you tonight.”

Anacostia’s lips parted, as if she had more to add, but instead she nodded and held the door open for Scylla, who paused before she crossed the threshold.

“Would you do me a favor?” She asked.

“I make no promises.”

“Fair enough.” It was a long shot, Scylla knew, but she had to try. Despite her many issues with Willa and Raelle, she felt she owed them at least this much. In case the worst happened. “Could you,” she took a deep breath, “talk to Raelle about Willa?”

Anacostia stiffened, grip tightening on the door. “Why?”

“Because our moms can’t come back from the dead, but hers did.” Scylla’s lips trembled slightly as she attempted a smile. “I know she’s hurt. Angry. And maybe Willa doesn’t deserve forgiveness.” Maybe I don’t either. She shrugged. “I don’t know. But Raelle could at least hear her out. Before it’s too late.”

Anacostia exhaled forcefully, tension evident in the rigid way she held herself, spine straight. “I’ll…see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Scylla said, genuinely grateful.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Anacostia muttered.

Schooling her features once again, Scylla sucked in a deep breath as she turned to leave. “Wish me luck.“ 

She was out of earshot when Anacostia finally responded with a whispered, “Good luck.” And was long gone by the time Anacostia let go of the door, flicked open a lighter, and raised the flame to her face.

[crispclown]

kurogiri hcs

i just have a lot of kurogiri thoughts....

- in canon mostly because i really like the theory that he's an ex-ua student who used to be friendly with aizawa and yamada before his quirk pretty much failed him during a battle and instilled the thought of "never let someone chase an unachievable dream" in aizawa afterwards. he was in a vulnerable position during that time and afo, who seems to watch the ua tournaments and realized kurogiri's quirk had the potential to be incredibly useful to his organization, swooped in similar to how it was with shigaraki and with careful manipulation pretty much became in kurogiri's eyes his savior who helped him realize how horrible the hero society is and gave him a second chance at redemption via villainy. because of this he feels a strong sense of debt towards afo 

- since he hasnt seen what an ass afo is yet he'd do almost anything afo would ask of him without question.

- to add onto the above of being an ex-ua student thats also one of the reasons he constantly has his mist on. i personally believe he does have a normal human form underneath going off how 1-a pinned him down during the ua rescue center scene. having his mist contantly at the ready helps be more prepared for all the sudden unexpected situations villains can fall into as well as disguise him from both media attention and anyone who might recognize him (old friends-) given the fact he's considered legally dead.

- the only people aware of his well. origin story is afo and some of his trusted higher ups who assisted in readjusting kurogiri to their group and pushing him to further his quirk abilities to do what he can do now

- kurogiri never really thought of telling shigiraki about since to him that backstory doesn't matter as much as helping him grow as afo's heir and as kurogiri's adopted son

- the reason kurogiri got into bartending was because when he first joined and he and afo were trying to figure out when he;d fit best kurogiri just sort of realize afo tends to drink A Lot. with all his quirks, its hard for afo to be killed by more normal means like alcohol poisoning and some of them had the side effect of needing a Shit Ton before afo could really get drunk

- so kurogiri just ended up helping fix afo's drinks and over time it morphed into learning how to bartend

- his loyalty to afo s pretty much the only reason kurogiri originally started taking care of shigaraki. afo knew how loyal and steadfast to him and took advantage of it to give him the job of raising/babysitting shigaraki. tbh i don't think kurogiri was fond of shigaraki since the beginning and probably acted more like a butler/robotic towards him at first before the unrelenting Parental Instincts tm kicked in one day after almost a year of looking after him and suddenly realized "oh fuck this is my son"

- during the year of lowkey awkward parenting he was internally having a crisis since in my mind he never really ever thought of having kids during his time as a hero in training so suddenly having the responsibilty of looking after one you know nothing about and is already pretty grown vs wanting to please afo who trusted him enough with the task made him p conflicted during the time

- thankfully(?) afo was the most active in shigarakis life during the beginning years so kurogiri didn't have to have his crisis while being a single dad as well. as shigaraki got older afo just started to withdraw more when he thought shigaraki and kurogiri were getting along well enough and weren't about to fight/betray him any time soon

- if the lov ever decided to break their assosiation with afo, kurogiri would likely still go with lov to make sure shigaraki and crew stay safe and that none of them get too hurt. despite that, he'd still retain quiet loyalty to afo due to his blind faith in him and would probably keep him updated if asked, thinking of it as a "father knows best situation"

- for the lov to be able to have his Total Loyalty, really the only person who could sway him would be shigaraki himself. as much as he feels like he has a debt to afo, shigaraki has pretty much become his own son in kurogiri's eyes (which he likely wouldnt outright admit-) and anything he'd tell him about afo would pretty much be the only stories kurogiri couldn't bring himself to cast doubt onto

- honestly in general shigiraki is pretty much the only one besides afo that he's willing to listen and consider anything he says. everyone else he might listen to but internally there's a possibility hes not really listening depending on the topic. like above, sometimes he thinks he just knows better though he is willing to admit whenever he's wrong

- mild projecting but besides shigaraki his favorite that he won't outright say is his favorite is toga. besides yknow the murdering which tbh doesn;t really bother him, he pretty much sees her as a a+ daughter and is just "lmao your lost" at her family. the only thing he doesn't like about her is when she goes out of her way to aggravate shigaraki or when she starts killing people suddenly and it throws off lov's plan

- he takes great pride in looking nice and presentable and while he might be willing to wear more casual clothes in his rare free time, he refuses to wear clothes like those free tshirts you get at events or his pjs outside his room.

- lowkey passive agressive about s o m e people not wearing socks t o m u r a. or not wearing long enough pants like arent your fucking ankles cold?

- kurogiri does also enjoy being a gentleman to go along with his professional aesthetic since like. just cause youre a villain doesnt mean you gotta be a dick yknow? too many heroes do that anyways (@ endeavor then perish)

- can swear but unable to around children 

- (shigaraki once heard him say fuck when he thought he was alone and its haunted them both ever since. neither of them talk about it)

- he's a villain so like. he doesnt feel bad about killing people or watching them get killed. he was literally willing to murder 13, all might, and 1-a and only didn't because renforments arrived. during their first meeting with toga and dabi, his concern was less about shigaraki killing someone but the concept of shigaraki killing someone who could be useful to their cause. if shigaraki had weighed the options and told kurogiri "yeah im gonna kill them theyre useless", kurogiri wouldnt have seen anything wrong with not stepping in again when shigaraki does so. 

- the only people he would feel bad for killing would be very young children since they remind him too much of how shigaraki used to be. parents of said children have a 50/50 chance depending on how they act

- kurogiri does try to let shigaraki be a grownup tm since hes like. 21 and make his own decisions but he really does have a habit of babying him since hes seen all the stupid shit hes done and said since he was like 5-6 and it all flashes in front of his eys sometimes

- for all the members who Can drink legally hes memorized their usual drinks by now. some of them (magne, twice, spinner-) probably use this to look cooler to recruits but everyone else Knows

- purposely says things like “the pokemens" in front of the younger members to set their fight or flight reflexes off

- video games are basically the only thing he really keeps up to date with pop culture wise tbh. whenever someone pulls him into playing one with them, he just acts like an old man who doesnt understand how to use controllers and lets them win to be nice. if he wanted he Could Destroy Them

- kurogiri doesn't dad anyone who doesn't want a dad figure showing up. he'll still do things like make sure they're being as safe as a villain can be and act as a mediator but otherwise they won't get much witness much dading unless its directed towards someone else

[dahniwitchoflight]

a-well-toasted-brain mentioned you in a post “did you hear Hussie's massive explanation on the epilogues?”

send me a link dahniwitchoflight

https://www.reddit.com/r/homestuck/comments/cuywff/the_homestuck_epilogues_bridges_and_offramps_new/

Alright something about Hussie calling his own work a cursed tome is hilarious to me

that’s really amazing he first intended the epilogues to be written as books because like, I’m so sure that if a third one does come out, it will be on an actual hardcover book, even just for the book eating jokes in homestuck and the fact that a book was in calliope’s offerred picnic basket of food choices to John

“I feel like the work does a lot to suggest it's not merely following up on the lives of all the characters after a few years, but also reorganizing all narrative circumstances in a way that points forward, to a new continuity with a totally different set of stakes.“

Yeah like, Homestuck in it’s current state is certainly finished and done and over with, but he’s right that the things presented in the epilogue do at times feel like cliffhangers leading to something new

but not something entirely new, new in the sense of a remake new

I wouldn’t be surprised if the old proclamation of homestuck 2.0 was just homestuck remade/retcanoned into a new different format and re-telling the story over again but different this time

“ In this sense, I think it's heavily implied to be a piece of bridge-media, which is clearly detached from the previous narrative, and conceptually "optional" by its presentation, which allows it to also function as an off-ramp for those inclined to believe the first seven acts of Homestuck were perfectly sufficient. But for those who continue to feel investment in these characters and this world, ironically the very elements which could be regarded as disturbing or depressing are also the main reasons to have hope that there is still more to see. “

Yeah!! Exactly! The Epilogues are leading into more things, but it’s not just gonna be a continuation of the story so far, even using in character retcon mechanics

it’s not like it would be out of place for Homestuck, Homestuck already did that once upon a time with Homestuck Beta, the idea of reimagining what the story of Homestuck is overall, isn’t something new to the media

“It turns out the gaze we cast from the sky of Earth C to revisit everyone isn't exactly friendly, like warm sunlight. It's more like a ravaging beam, destructive and unsettling to all that could have been safely imagined.”

“Our continued attention is the very property which incites new problems, and the troublemakers appear to be keenly aware of this. “

That’s really ominous though, it’s sort of implying that that everything fucked up that happened in Candy was through our gaze of wanting to read more being that eternal endgame Sun is what caused all the character skewing, not necessarily that John had leftover bits of canon power in him when everyone else didn’t

We wanted to see the drama and problems that would arise therefore it did

Kind of implies that the longer this continues on the more an original neat happy end is out of reach, what could have been a simple story of 4 kids playing game turned into something much more complicated and dramatic

But I don’t think that’s true, if the story is hinging on what hussie imagines we as an audience want to see, if we all want to see that original neat happy simple end, that hardly feels impossible

Yeah like something else is definitely coming, Hussie gave up the epligues as a way to zap our attention, make us talk, get feedback, get passionate about things he didn’t know we would, get ideas of what it is we wanted to see, and now it’s gonna simmer for a while while he uses some time to cook up something new

“Once you have a multitude of intermissions, don't you have two dueling threads of content, one supposedly "irrelevant", and the other important? And if that's true, then is it possible for the "irrelevant" thread to accrue more importance, throwing its entire identity as "optional content" into question retroactively?”

yes!

“And if that can happen, is it possible the two threads can flip roles, with the intermissions becoming more important than the main acts? Then once the story goes through the motions of answering "yes" to all of this, isn't it also fair to ask, why bother with this examination at all? Was it pure horseplay and trickery? Actually, yes, sort of. There is a trick involved. The gradual realization that intermission content is nontrivial forces the reader to reevaluate their perception of the material, which was originally influenced by a label presiding over that material, and what they believed that label meant.”

“It relies on the reader's presumption about the label's meaning to disguise certain properties of the content (like relevance), and therefore disarms the reader initially, leading to the potential for subverting expectations about the content later in surprising ways. In other words, you can use whatever it is the reader already presumes they know about stories in order to control the perception of what they are reading, just by gradually shifting the boundaries of whatever it is they've been well trained to expect from certain elements.” 

Ah, so them being called “Epilogues” doesn’t really matter, in fact, it’s clearly being used specifically to mislead us, even their current state of canonical-ness doesn’t matter. It’s not a status handed down from on high that they have no choice but to simply accept.

Everything is both within their power and within the audience and author’s power to change, which he has already admitted as such when he designed the “epilogues” stories labelled as such to in fact feel like “intermissions” in application, so the author has already now changed what an epilogue means in Homestuck, so what will the audience and then the characters change about that?

“So now the label "epilogue" has been toyed with in a similar way, and also in a manner which exposes an apparent flaw with the label. Or actually, just by using the label "epilogue" at all, it seems the story is admitting to an apparent flaw. If another way of saying intermission is "whoops, story's too long, here's a break", then an alternate way of saying epilogue is "whoops, I forgot some shit, here's some more".”

whoops indeed lol so yeah, “Epilogue” absolutely doesn’t mean the story is over, it means quite the opposite, it’s a guarantee the story is going to continue

“it's probably time to get nervous about whether it satisfies your expectations about what the content existing under such a label should provide.”

See, this is the sort of thing why I still have a sliver of faith in the author, he’s admitting he knew the expectation of his audience so clearly that he specifically wrote something to come across as unsatisfying as possible to stoke the flames as much as possible to get people to want more so that he could make more

so he didn’t write the epilogue with any sense of thinking that anyone in the audience was really going to fully accept this is how homestuck ends, it wasn’t presently simply as “well, here’s the end here you go, this is canonically how it ends”

he’s fully aware of the dissatisfaction, in fact it was dissastisfaction he was hoping to cultivate on purpose

I think PesterQuest clearly ties into and jokes about with MC straight up reacting the way a lot of fandom did when they first popped out, right on Hussie’s que

“Stories end where they do for certain reasons, answering the questions which were thematically important to answer, and leaving some questions unanswered for similar reasons, and the reader is left with the task of deciphering the meaning of these decisions. Under the "whoops, I forgot some shit, here's more" interpretation of an epilogue as a flawed construct, by reopening an already closed-circuit narrative, what you're really doing is introducing destabilizing forces into something which had already reached a certain equilibrium, due to all the considerations that went into which questions to answer, and which to leave ambiguous. And these destabilizing forces became the entire basis for the construction of an entirely new post-canon narrative, for better or worse.“

By Homestuck’s been doing that this whole entire time, so it’s really not unexpected here as well

Whatever happened to that original flash of Bark Tier Jade doing things with the planets that ended in candydust? The interruption of that dust made it so we might never know (yet)

“By deploying it as mock-fanfiction, and including other authors, I'm making an overt gesture that is beginning to diminish my relevance as the sole authority on the direction this story takes, what should be regarded as canon, and even introducing some ambiguity into your understanding of what canon means as the torch is being passed into a realm governed by fan desires.“

So Hussie is even aware that of the original problem of having a sole author for the kind of story he is making, perfectly represented in story by his self insert being and acting the way it does, trying to diminish it’s presence as much as possible, but still inescapably being there and affecting things

and even showing how a character like John rising to a similar position due to circumstances, can’t help but come to the same conclusion of self isolation as the only way

“ The fanfiction format is effectively a call to action, for another generation of creators to imagine different outcomes, to submit their own work within the universe, to extend what happens beyond the epilogues, or to pave over them with their own ideas. And I believe the direness in tone and some of the subject matter suitably contributes to the urgency of this call to action. “

So at this point, Hussie I think is actually admitting he might be out of ideas, so in his role as sole author, that means the story is over it’s dead, wherever it managed to end up dying, but at the same time he doesn’t want to let Homestuck die, so he’s opening up canon to be influenced by other people not just himself, fandom has to start creating new content or rearrange the pieces in ways that feel satisfying to them

That’s not to say though that if we like Homestuck we should all write our endings however we please and that that’s the real true ending of homestuck

but rather he’s probably going to be expanding his team of Homestuck creators to include more people than just him, bigger the bigger sample size of people who want homestuck to live and be satisfying, the more accurate it will be to the overall fandom vision of what it means to be satisfying

So dang then, really cool

Right now, If I were to put myself in this role, I can definitely think of things left unaddressed that I want to be handled in a satisfying way, and I can definitely think of things that have been handled unsatisfactorily, and can think of more satisfying ways to meet their ends

it makes sense though that this can’t be handled by one person alone though, that it has to be a communal effort

because there are also things that I personally have no opinion about, or even worse, a negative opinion about, which means if I were in charge, those parts of the story would be handled in an unsatisfying way to those who were hoping to get satisfaction out of

For instance, it’s not impossible for a character even like Gamzee to have a satisfying conclusion or character arc, if a significant part of fandom so desires

It wouldn’t even have to be that hard, Candy already lampshaded the most obvious/most likely ways in which it could be done seriously

a) play up what happened in his childhood having an affect or non affect on him

b) play up the substance abuse angle or how the drugs might have irreversibly altered his personality

c) play up how his Ultimate Self may have been tainted by the part that became LE similar to Dirk through that “Combat, Philosophy, Life, Love” line

heck even the gross unmentionable part at the end half of Candy has a super dark joke that you could even twist Gamzee’s story as him being the one being abused in a relationship having an affect on him, not the other way around

but THAT would be one hell of a contortion of his character as it is now in the story

and since it’s mostly Gamzee being the one to make these jokes about his own character, it even comes across as darkly self aware on his part, especially with his whole redemptions handed out like Candy thing he’s got going on

that if enough people forgive him and start liking him it’s essentially the same as him not having been a villain in the first place, in “canon”, which it would be if audience had control over canon

but whether that’s due to him wanting to simply, get away with the shit he’s done scot free and not have to feel any repercussions for his actions, or some core of genuine remorse that he doesn’t know how to express properly but has access to the power to change if he wants

I think it’s the first most likely because I dislike him, but people who do like him would obviously feel differently

So, I end this all with

“I want to see what happens in Hiveswap and Friendsim, and PesterQuest, and I want to see if the effects of that has repercussions on Homestuck, and changes it further in ways that satisfy me” with my eyes gleaming, staring like sunlight, changing the way it’s perceived by burning holes into parts I don’t like and welding together the parts that I do like

I ended that pretty ominously, but for real I think the better way is a more light-handed touch

use what’s there as much as you can, tweak small details by your own hands and let the rest change naturally like a butterfly effect, leaving as little a footprint as possible

it’s like how sometimes in order to heal your meat-sack you need surgery, which might involve making new cuts to it, which sounds bad, but if the way those cuts heal and scar over overall causes the health of the body to increase and remove things like rot and poison, it’s done an overall good, especially if it’s good surgery and you manage to do so in the smallest amount of cuts possible

Like those surgery robots who simply go in through holes in the skin and do everything unseen under the surface

Hussie’s left a pretty big important plot hole already, probably better to start from there if anywhere

My immediate thought is what’s the best way of explaining the story of the cursor juju? How it’s created and how it’s meant to be used and etc it’s role in the narrative as a weapon against the final villain

Dang, good read though overall thanks for linking it to me!

I definitely would say though that my gaze isn’t filled with wanting to see more drama and problems pop up, it’s wanting to see the resolutions of past drama, wanting to ease tensions rather than create more, wanting to patch things up rather than create more holes, just simply wanting a satisfying resolution to things I care about

If Homestuck is a piece of art, I’m a small blowtorch welding the delicate bits back onto their proper places so that I can look at the finally finished metal statue with satsifaction

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

The Good Life: Chapter 9

Hello, my lovelies!This chapter is late because I lost track of time and didn’t realize that I hadn’t edited it and queued it to post on Friday or Saturday like I intended to do, so sorry about that! I’m trying to be better about posting, I really am, but I’m also a mess of a human being and am not as bad about it as I could be or as I have been before (insert references to my forgotten WIPs that I doubt I’ll ever pick up again)!

Need to get caught up? The Good Life: Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4 , Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8

If you want to be added (or  removed) from the tags list for this story, just feel free to let me know!

@pink-royaute @believethaticanandiwill @milllott @likeashootingstarfades @i-dream-of-emus @eveerez

The Good Life: Chapter 9

Rae dug through her purse, trying to use the light from her cell phone to find her keys as she stood outside the front door of her apartment.

“Fucking finally,” Rae huffed as she found the keychain that her apartment key was attached to, “we have got to get the bloody light out her repaired!”

It was much later than Rae had anticipated coming home, so as she unlocked the door and placed her keys back into her purse, she tried to open the door as quietly as she possibly could. She had barely made it into the apartment and relocked the front door behind her when she heard the distinct sound of a door opening and the dull thud of bare feet against the floor of the dimly lit hallway.

“I’m so sorry I woke you,” Rae apologized when Finn came into view of the kitchen as she was getting herself a glass of water.

“S’fine. I wasn’t sleeping,” Finn muttered as he walked to stand on the opposite side of the long kitchen counter from Rae, “Are you just getting home from work now?”

“Oh, uh, no. I did work my late afternoon shift today, but afterwards I had made plans to meet someone for drinks.”

“Oh! Alright,” Finn nodded as he brought his thumb up to his mouth to nibble at a slightly uneven edge of his nail, “I wasn’t sure where you were, but I also didn’t want to come across as being super clingy and paranoid by calling or texting you.”

“Did you stay awake just to make sure I got home safe?” Rae asked when she looked down and noticed that Finn was already wearing comfortable clothing and was stifling yet another yawn.

Instead of replying, Finn simply shrugged and followed Rae as she walked from their kitchen into the living room and took a seat on the couch. Finn sat down on the couch next to her and gestured for her to rest her feet on his lap, the position they ended up in more often than not when they sat on the couch together.

“Did you just go get drinks with a coworker after you both got out of work, or…?” Finn asked as casually as he could.

“Uh, no...”

“Was it, like, a date or something?” Finn asked when Rae didn’t elaborate further.

“Sort of,” Rae mumbled, “This guy I met at the party last weekend crossed paths with me on campus and he asked me to meet him for drinks today. I think you might know him, actually. He’s Chop’s mate, Blue.”

“You went on a date with Blue?” Finn questioned, making no attempt to disguise his tone of voice.

“Well, it was just a drink or two, but yeah I suppose.” Rae replied with a dismissive shrug.

“Huh, wouldn’t have expected that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Finn?”

“He just doesn’t seem like your type, I guess.”

“And what exactly is my type, since you seem to know so much about who I do and don’t like,” Rae asked with her eyebrows raised as she looked beside her on the couch, waiting for Finn to make eye contact with her.

“I dunno, but not Blue.” He muttered, looking up only briefly.

“Why not? He’s a nice guy,” Rae began.

“Oh, yeah! He’s definitely nice, he’s just really...well, he’s sort of…dim-witted.”

“Well, that’s one way to put it, yes,” Rae replied with a chuckle.

“Did you at least have a good time with Blue?”

“Yeah I had a really good time,” Rae replied before looking over at Finn, “but there likely won’t be a second date, since I know that’s the real question you were asking.”

Finn chuckled sheepishly ad began idly pulling on a loose string that was hanging off of the cuff of Rae’s jeans.

“Do you wish the date had gone better?”

“Not necessarily. I mostly just said yes because he asked and I thought that I had nothing left to lose. Worst case scenario, I go to a pub and have a drink or two with some shit guy and then come back home and tell you all about how shit it was. I had a good time and I liked talking to him, but I think we both are happy with just keeping it friendly and platonic.”

“That’s alright then, I guess.”

“I think so too. Chloe, Arch, and some of my coworkers have been on my ass about ‘getting out there’ and dating more, but I’m not too concerned about it. I like where I’m at now. Things are comfortable now, you know?” Rae replied with a wiggle of her feet that were still resting across Finn’s lap.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Finn muttered, “We never talked about that before we moved in together, dating, I mean.”

“What?”

“Oh! I mean, uh, like if one of us is dating and gets into a relationship or whatever. We never talked about each of our rules about bringing people over or inviting dates into the apartment or whatnot.”

“I guess it never really occurred to me. I’m alright with you bringing home dates, just let me know first or let me know if you’d prefer that I not be in the apartment while she’s over or whatever,”

“Cool. Um, same, I guess. But I doubt you’d have to worry about me bringing any girls home. I haven’t been dating much recently either, much to Archie and the gang’s chagrin.”

“They just love to meddle in everyone else’s business. I think I’d be more surprised if they didn’t try to dictate my love life, honestly.”

“Yeah, you think that by now I’d be used to it, but apparently not!” Finn agreed with a laugh.

Finn and Rae sat quietly on the couch together for a few minutes before Rae could hear Finn struggling to stifle a yawn.

“Alright, Finnley, it’s way past your bedtime! I’m tired, I know that you’re tired and have to be awake early for work, and I need all the beauty sleep that I can get, so I think it’d be best if we both try to get some sleep now.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Finn began before finally giving in to the yawn that he’d been trying to avoid, “I had a long day at work and have been looking forward to going to bed since I got home this evening, but I didn’t want to fall asleep and miss a call or text from you, since I wasn’t sure why you were running late. I was too busy worrying about ya to fall asleep.”

Rae looked over at Finn as she lifted her legs off of his lap and allowed him to stand up, smirking when she realized that Finn was likely unaware of what he’d just said out loud in his state of exhaustion.

“All the more reason for you to get in bed now then,” Rae said as she placed her hands on Finn’s shoulders from behind and steered him to walk down the hallway towards the open door of his bedroom.

“Good night, Rae!” Finn mumbled as he leaned to give Rae a light peck on her cheek before walking into his room and laying down face-first on his unmade bed.

“Sweet dreams, Finnley,” Rae said softly as she turned off his bedroom light and closed his door behind her as she walked to her own bedroom.

A/N: So I have the next few chapters all mapped out and I’m excited about them, but I wasn’t sure how long I was going to drag out the whole Rae-goes-on-dates-with-Not-Finn plot line or if I wanted to make Finn get jealous (trick question, yes I do. Jealous Finn is attractive af) and I’m still not sure tbh. Could this be the last we hear of Blue? Will Rae keep going on dates but with other people and will Finn be jealous about it? I guess we’ll all just have to stick around and keep reading to see what happens!

As always, thank you to everyone who read/liked/replied to/reblogged the last chapter, seeing those little notifications never fail to make my entire day! Until next time: Stay awesome, my friends!

[toosicktoocare]

Prompt:  “ Hey, I have grad on Tuesday. If you don't mind, could you maybe write something where Peter is looking forward to final graduating from high school, but gets badly hurt the day before? Throw whatever else you want in there, dump some Ironstrange or Stucky in there, toss in some Ned or Loki or whoever I really don't care. You don't have to do it of course, but I would love it if you did! No matter what you decide, keep up the good work, I love your stuff!💙❤️”

Congrats on graduating!! 

There’s a fine line between confident and cocky, and Peter toes that line a lot, especially when he’s on patrol. Usually he has no one to impress, with the city being rather quiet and not in need of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, so he’ll often try his hand at things that he knows Tony would scold him for—like this back-flip off the top of an abandoned apartment building to a guardrail on a worn-down balcony a few floors below him.

He misses the guardrail by about two inches, and when he frantically reaches for it, it breaks against his weight, something he should have factored in considering the age and state of the building. But, he got a little too cocky; he can’t help it—he’s graduating tomorrow, and he’s a little too stoked for it. And now he’s plummeting to the ground.

There’s nothing close enough to web to, and he’s forced to turn mid-fall to his side to avoid the guardrail hitting him. He squeezes his eyes shut, and when he hits the ground, the pain is instant, leaving him gasping on impact.

His shoulder takes the brunt of the fall, but his head still knocks against the ground hard enough to leave his ears ringing and to rattle his brain a little, jumbling his thoughts slightly. The pain burns from his shoulder to his leg, and he suddenly can’t breathe around the fabric of his mask. He’s afraid to move, but staying on his right side that currently feels as if it’s on fire doesn’t sound like the best option, so he takes a risk and rolls onto his back, pushing his mask up over his mouth at the same time.

His lungs are pumping in overdrive, and his chest is heaving, bringing with it a cracking pain from the right side of his ribs. The ringing in his ears is starting to die down, though, just enough for Karen to crackle into his ears.

“Peter, are you okay?”

“Amazing,” Peter manages out around gasping breaths. “Just a… flesh wound.”

“My scans show a shoulder dislocation, two fractured ribs, and bruising already forming all down your right side. You’re also exhibiting a few signs of a minor concussion.”

“That’s it?” Peter spits out, trying to keep his voice steady despite how badly it wants to shake with pain. “That’s not so bad.”

“Peter, you should consider seeking medical attention to speed up your healing properties. I can contact Mr. Sta—”

“No!” Peter shoots upright at this, and for a moment, his vision wavers while a tight knot forms in his stomach. Sweat beads at his temples, sticking uncomfortably to his mask, but he sucks in a shaking breath despite the fire coating his side. “I mean, no,” he adds, a little more coolly. “I’m okay, Karen.”

“Peter, respectfully, your definition of ‘okay’ negates the actual meaning of the word.”

“Have you always been a smart-ass and I just didn’t catch on?” Peter asks as he very carefully gets to his feet. Again, his vision swims and grays around the edges, and he has to swallow thickly around a lump of nausea clawing up his throat. He’s shaking, and he has to blink rapidly to keep himself of moving with the swaying ground below him.

“Peter. I’m going to call Mr. Stark. He programmed me to contact him if anything ever happens to you.”

“Yes, and I spent two nights manually overriding that program,” Peter fights back. His shoulder hurts really freaking bad, as does his side. Everything really. He feels really bad. “So,” he starts again as he takes a test step. His right knee buckles, but he’s able to support his weight. “No contacting Mr. Stark. He’ll take my suit away again.”

Karen takes a long time to reply, and Peter spends the silence huffing quietly through the pain as he makes his way back to where he stashed his backpack. Walking feels like he’s dragging his side against a pulsing wall of fire, but he forces his muscles to move against it.

“Okay, but you should go straight home. You need rest, and you told May you would be back from the pretend party at midnight.”

Peter mutters a breathy ‘okay’ and continues limping to his backpack.

*****

Everything’s always worse the day after, even if you have reality-defying factors that enhance your ability to deal with injuries. Peter feels positively terrible. His entire right side aches, he can’t breathe deeply without his side burning tightly, and he can barely move his right arm. He knows his healing factor kicked in sometime during the night, but it wasn’t enough time to mute the pain.

Still, he got up before May, left a note saying he was eating breakfast with Ned, then left the house. And now, he’s contemplating asking his principal if he can skip walking because he’s not even sure he can walk across the stage while Ned watches him with narrowed eyes.

“I still don’t understand how you fell, Peter. I mean, you’re the Spider-Man.”

Peter had filled Ned in on what happened during breakfast at a McDonalds close to the school, and since then, Ned’s been audibly attempting to wrap his mind around how Peter somehow managed to fail so badly at being a superhero.

“Shut up, Ned,” he hisses, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone who’s lined up nearby heard. “It just happened; now, can you stop asking already? You’re giving me a headache.”

“Am I?” Ned asks, tilting his head. “Or is that the concussion—”

“I’m not concussed,” Peter sighs. He rubs his left hand up and down his face, thankful that the guidance counselor assisting with lineup announces that they can begin processing.

Ned quickly moves back to his spot a few places before Peter, both in the front row for highest honors, and once everyone is actually where they are supposed to be, piano music starts playing, and they start filing down the football field one by one.

Peter’s got his left hand pressed to his right side as he walks, pushing pressure as if to mend the pain with force alone. His right leg is burning, his thigh littered with black and purple bruises, and he’s sweating under the beating rays of the sun overhead. Walking is difficult, but he hears a shout of his name, and he plasters a smile to his face and looks over to see May waving at him with…

His pupils dilate when he spots Tony standing beside May. Tony offers a nod, and Peter can only wave one shaking hand back because Tony never said he was coming. Peter had invited him, but Tony brushed it off without really giving a clear answer. Yet, he’s here in one of his pressed suits with sunglasses that do absolutely nothing to disguise who he really is.

Peter must have stopped without realizing because he’s suddenly being nudged by the person behind him, and he staggers forward, pulling his gaze back ahead as he quickens his pace to the best of his ability to catch up to the person in front of him.

When they’re all seated and the principal starts some too long speech about how they are moving onto the next chapter of their lives, Peter hunches forward a little with his left arm wrapped tightly around his abdomen. He’s curling into the pain, hoping to ease it some, but it’s not working, and he loses his focus as his mind pulls to every aching muscle, every bruise, every burning joint until his row is suddenly standing and he’s walking to the stage.

He has to shake the principal’s hand with his right hand and grab his diploma with his left. Considering how he can barely move his arm, he’s not sure how he’s going to pull this off with every eye on him, but he’s not given much time to dwell on it because next thing he knows, he’s walking onto the stage to his name being called followed by May’s loud cheers.

When he lifts his right hand to shake the principal’s hand, his eyes sting with tears. The pain is unbearable, and he grits his teeth as he plasters on a fake smile while shaking the principal’s hand. When he lets go, his hand falls to his side, and when he starts walking past with his diploma in hand, the principal decides to pat him on the shoulder, the right shoulder.

A gasp slips past his lips, masked only by the cheers for the following person, and he grows pale. His vision blurs a little, but he makes it off the stage and avoids looking to May and Tony as he shuffles back to his seat.

After that, he zones out, his mind once again too wrapped up in the pain, still trying to recover from the clap to his shoulder. He can almost feel Ned’s gaze on him, but he remains hunched over in his seat until everyone’s suddenly standing and tossing their caps into the air.

He doesn’t toss his; he’s too tired, in too much pain. He only gets from his seat and swallows back the small bit of nausea as he starts toward May and Tony. It doesn’t take him long since May’s practically shoving people out of the way, and when she spots him, she rushes him. 

After that, everything goes black, with his last memory being May’s smiling face and open arms.

He wakes up on his back, his head pillowed uncomfortably by a purse, and he’s looking up at the bright sky with narrow, sensitive eyes.

“Peter? Oh, thank god!”

May’s suddenly hovering over him, blocking the sun, and she looks so worried that Peter mentally curses himself for causing even the slightest amount of concern. He makes a move to push up on his left elbow, and May helps him with an impossibly gentle hand to his back.

“Ned said you fell while climbing the rope in gym class?” May says, and Peter spares a quick glance to see Ned offering a small shrug as if to say, ‘what else was I supposed to say?’

“Y-yeah,” Peter lies as May carefully guides him to his feet. “I fell on my side—I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Good work with that,” Tony says, suddenly stepping forward. “Not.” He nods to Peter’s shoulder. “Ted said it’s dislocated and that you have some fractured ribs?”

“Ned,” Peter corrects on habit. “I’m—”

“Kid, if you say you’re fine, I’m going to dislocate your other shoulder.”

Peter narrows his eyes at this, offering a slight glare to Tony, but May interjects before either can say anything.

“Peter, Tony was nice enough to offer his medical facility free of charge. He said he has some of the best doctors to help you, and he can take you right now.”

“But our dinner plans—”

“Can wait,” May says softly, a small smile playing at her lips. “We have all the time in the world, Peter.” She leans in and brushes a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Congratulations,” she whispers, and Peter’s heart swells with a comforting warmth.

“Thank you.” He means it, every single letter of the word, and May pulls back with a wider smile.

“Go on with Tony now. I’ll meet you both at the tower in a little while.”

Nodding, Peter and Tony start moving away from the crowds of people and to the parking lot. Tony’s quiet for a while, and Peter’s thankful because he’s exhausted and in far too much pain to be chatty. But, Tony finally cuts through the silence.

“Fell during rope climbing, huh? Do schools still do that?”

Just by Tony’s voice, Peter knows he knows it was a lie, so he only sighs and shakes his head. “I fell during patrol.”

“Doing what?”

“I just lost my footing.”

“Try again,” Tony says, and Peter grumbles a little under his breath.

“I was trying to do a back-flip off a building.”

Tony sighs deeply at this as the two approach the car, but when Peter slips into the passenger seat after Tony uncharacteristically opened the door for him, Tony leans over and taps Peter’s diploma.

“I don’t know how you can be so smart yet so stupid. Top of your class yet you attempt a back-flip off a building alone?”

Tony’s voice is mixed with more than one emotion, and Peter’s not sure how to approach a reply. He ends up with a small “I’m sorry?” and a slight tilt of the head.

“You always are,” Tony spits out as he straightens his back, one hand resting on the top of the open door. “Congrats by the way.”  

Peter looks up to him, and they share a communicative smile, one that speaks louder than any word possibly could.

[blessed-but-distressed]

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

also on ff.net and ao3

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon  @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin and whoever else asks me.

Killian

Killian had the entire bus ride out to the wilds of Musselburgh to get a grip on his anger. A whole forty minutes to compose his thoughts, an hour if you factored in having to stop home to change. A leather jacket wasn’t going to cut it with this crowd.

It was Ladies Day at the races.

The one day a year when the movers and shakers of South Eastern Scotland congregated to blag their way through a succession of conversations about horse racing as if they had any clue. Anything to impress the boss, or seal that deal. The place was fit to bursting with moneyed types and semi-famous faces. People he’d shaken hands with at various luncheons and dinners, and other pretentious press events masquerading as dining opportunities.

He never grew used to it. It didn’t matter how long it had been since he’d welcomed Elsa and her not-inconsiderable trust fund into the family, or lived in that veritable mansion on East Castle Road. When it came to mingling with the blue bloods, Killian always came out of the encounter feeling like some kind of Dickensian orphan, who’d accidentally wandered into the wrong part of town.

There was a clear distinction in this crowd, between the girls in their frocks and fascinators sipping champagne on the grass, and the shifty-eyed types sitting in the stands, betting slips clutched tight in grubby fists.

Killian knew the type well. The kind who still thought his losses could be recovered, if only he chose the right horse. The right name. Wore the right socks, and said the right prayers. They were the usual faces, who’d shown up despite the pomp and inflated prices at the gate. That might divert the usual punter to a betting shop on Clerk Street, but not these diehards. They wouldn’t let a small thing like that stand between them and the ponies. They were also probably the only ones in attendance who’d actually bothered to read the form guide beforehand.

For now, the weather was holding, but Killian predicted there might be something of something of an exodus, sooner or later. Dark clouds were unfurling on the horizon, and he didn’t think those women in their strappy high heels stood much of a chance when the deluge arrived. It would be a quagmire.

He was almost tempted to stick around long enough to enjoy the spectacle, but that wasn’t his primary goal. He had another, less entertaining focus for his attentions.

Malcolm Weaver.

He was, as Killian suspected he would be, right in the thick of things. It was his laugh that first gave him away, the oily artifice of it audible from twenty paces. The face, when it came into view, merely drove that impression home. This was not a man content to age gracefully. Instead, Weaver seemed to be doing everything in his power to keep the years at bay, his hair plugs and unmoving forehead a testament to his vanity.

Killian caught the moment Weaver clapped eyes on him, his dentist white smile dimming mid-anecdote before he had a chance to recover himself.

Killian swiped a champagne flute from a passing tray and took a sip as he watched Weaver excuse himself from his conversation. But before he could speak, a third party appeared from Killian’s left, two meaty fists grabbing him roughly by the lapels of his borrowed suit jacket.

Of course. A lackey. Every wannabe gangster’s favourite spring accessory.

“You might’ve bought me a dinner first,” Killian cracked, as the man relieved him of his champagne, and started in on a none-too-gentle pat down. When he got to the prosthetic he hesitated, but Weaver just waved him away.

“Even Killian Jones isn’t stupid enough to impale me on his own hook in front of twelve MSPs and the Chief Constable. Leave us.”

The goon did as instructed, slipping into the crowd scarily easily for a man approximately the size and weight of a mountain gorilla.

“Friendly chap,” Killian commented idly, smoothing down his jacket from where it had been crumpled in the man’s grasp. He was missing a button, he noticed. There’d be hell to pay for that later.

“Felix? He’s a good lad. Very… effective,” Weaver finished, drinking down the last of his own champagne. “I take it this is about the money.”

“Aye, it’s about the fucking money.”

“I’ve been expecting you to come beating down my door for months now, or has the elder brother Jones become better at hiding his dirty laundry than he used to be?” Weaver mused, indicating to a passing waitress for a refill.

“You should’ve turned him away,” Killian ground out, with something approaching a snarl. “You should’ve left him alone.”

“Left him alone? Dear boy, he’s the one that came to me. All I did was help out an old friend.”

“Help?” Killian practically spat the word. “By charging him, what? Forty percent interest? Fifty?”

“Well, I am a businessman,” Weaver replied, accepting his refreshed beverage with a sly grin and a wink in the server’s direction.

“You’re a snake,” Killian corrected. “A slimy, nouveau-riche bastard so terrified of your own mortality you’ve turned yourself into a human Ken doll.”

Weaver’s answering smile was venomous, white teeth flashing as his lips strained against his frozen facial muscles. “Well,” he said, making eye contact with someone behind Killian’s shoulder, “so much for pleasantries. At least I’m not a one-handed man with a drinking problem.”

The blow came out of nowhere, a fat fist square to the eye socket.

“Bloody hell!” Killian staggered backwards, hand clutched to his face as it exploded with pain.

Somewhere from outside of his haze of his agony, he could hear the sound of Weaver’s voice close by, cold and menacing. “Try to interfere in my business again, and you’ll lose that other hand. And do tell your brother I said hello.”

It can’t be that bad. ES

-KJ has sent you an image file-

I stand corrected. He got you good. And he’s what? A source? ES

Something like that. KJ

Might be time to re-evaluate that relationship… ES

I concur. KJ

Pint? ES

Please. KJ

“So?”

Emma took a few steps back to survey her work, a deep crinkle settling between her eyebrows.

Killian sighed, reaching for his pint glass. “I knew it. He knocked the handsome out of me.”

Emma snorted, twisting the cap back onto her concealer with an involuntary smile. “The concealer helps,” she admitted. “But there’s not a lot I can do about the swelling. My advice? Frozen peas. And if you have to show your face in public? Aviators.”

Killian thought of the pair she’d worn the week before, as they’d sat out in the Meadows after her latest 5k torture session, and wondered how much of this advice might stem from experience. How many of those light, precise touches she’d used to disguise the worst of his injury she’d already perfected in the mirror.

He wasn’t oblivious to the reputation of the foster system where Emma had grown up. She certainly didn’t seem to have too many positive things to say about the experience. He’d only had to endure being in care for a few years. She’d been raised by a revolving door of strangers from infancy.  

The way her hand had shaken as she grazed the worst of his bruises-

Clearing his throat, Killian turned his attention to the front of the bar, where the storm he’d predicted earlier now lashed against the windows with a steady ferocity. It hurt to raise an eyebrow, but still, he managed it.

“Or maybe a cool cover story?” Emma suggested smoothly. “Apprehended a purse thief? Foiled a kidnapping? Insulted Mike Tyson?”

“Very helpful. Thank you.”

Emma grinned, downing the last contents of her glass. “You are welcome. You can keep those. And the concealer,” she said, placing the little tube onto the bar in front of him.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, noticing her reach for her jacket. It was the same one she’d worn when they’d first met, soft red leather, and hardly weather appropriate considering the downpour outside.

“Maybe I am,” she said airily, pulling her arms through the sleeves. “But if you think I’m going to tell you about it so you can gossip to all of your subscribers…” She gave him a level look.

“Ah.” Perhaps, in hindsight, he could’ve been a tad more circumspect when it came to the Grant issue in his last column.

“Yes, ah. You should’ve seen the amount of notifications I got after Mary Margaret read your piece. Not to mention the sidelong glances I’ve been getting at work. Those have been super fun. You’re kind of a son of a bitch, you know that?”

He did. He did know that. And one day, he might even make it up to her. Perhaps. In the meantime though…

“Indeed. And that’s why I pay you the big bucks,” he said sarcastically, reaching into his satchel to extract the agreed fee, £100 of pound coins, wrapped in a calico bank bag. Rather than pressing it into her hands, he settled for leaving the bag at her feet, as if this were a far more clandestine exchange.

“Why do you always have to make this out like it’s sordid as hell?” she wondered aloud, frowning as she stuffed the contents away into her messenger bag.

“I must have a knack,” Killian shrugged. “Those are new coins, by the way. I do hope your landlord has changed that barbaric coin meter of yours, because the bank has stopped giving out the old ones.”

Emma made a face. A face that said her landlord had probably done nothing of the sort. “Yeah, I’ll get on that. Thanks.”

She stood up to go, but was surprised when Killian’s prosthetic tapped her on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. “Jones?”

He held out an umbrella. His umbrella, hurriedly retrieved from his bag. “Probably too soon in the relationship for Graham to meet Drowned Rat Emma, don’t you think?”

She rolled her eyes, but she took the umbrella.

“You forgot to mention how dashing I look in this suit!” he called after her.

She turned her face away, but he still caught the smile stretching wide across her features as she pulled open the door. “No, I didn’t!” she called back, her shout barely audible above the roar of the rain.

Are you icing that eye? ES

Are you texting me while Graham is in the loo? KJ

You mean the bathroom? Maybe. Possibly. Yes. Don’t change the subject. There had better be some frozen vegetables in close proximity to your face right now. ES

Waitrose branded sweetcorn. Are you satisfied? KJ

I never knew corn could be elitist until right this minute. ES

Believe it. And that’s not forgetting the time I zoned out reading the ingredients on the box of Waitrose brand cereal and came to five hours later in a voting booth, pen poised to vote Tory. Every day in this house is a struggle. KJ

Ha. Graham’s coming back. Look after that eye. And try not to give in to any sudden conservative tendencies. ES

But who else offers Strong and Stable Leadership? KJ

Thin fucking ice. ES

He’d debated how to approach the conversation, but in the end he decided to just rip off that plaster once and for all. He was tired of the secrets. Of the lies. Of pretending everything was normal when everything was so very far from normal.

This was probably how his mother had felt, he realised, when finally confronted with the truth of her husband’s addictions, of the spiralling debts and tangled web of half-truths and broken promises.

He was there to greet Liam as he came in the door, house keys still clutched in his hand, tie askew after another long day cooped up in his office, reading over the latest copy edits.

“Is that my suit?” he asked, shrugging his laptop case from his shoulders with a frown. Which Killian took as all the invitation he needed to properly step into the light, letting his brother see his face.

Even with Emma’s best work, there was no hiding the worst of it. And it must’ve still looked pretty bloody awful because Liam stopped dead where he stood, house keys falling from his hand and clattering onto the floorboards.

“Kil?” It was the same tone he’d used in the hospital, the day Killian’s life had fallen apart. The same one he’d used that morning twenty three years ago when they’d woken up and found their father’s car gone, his wardrobe stripped bare. By their mother’s graveside, as they’d buried her in the cold earth.

“Malcolm Weaver sends his regards. And it’s about time you and I had an honest conversation for once, don’t you think?”

Emma

It had been a while since Emma had played the dating game. The getting-to-know-you game. The how-many-siblings game. The where-did-you-get-that-scar game. Like subjecting someone to a chronology of your more embarrassing teenage anecdotes made tumbling into bed together after three martinis and an awkward handjob in the back of an Uber less sleazy somehow.

For some people, the little things were just that, little. But for Emma, even the most innocuous first date questions turned into stumbling blocks.

“So, what do your parents do?” Ha.

“Where’d you grow up?” Ugh.

“What does the tattoo mean?” Geez.

Sometimes, she wished she could just skip all of the tedious minutiae, and proceed with the naked bedroom aerobics. Did that make her a tramp? Probably. So sue her. Graham Humbert, Professor of International Relations was cute, he was interested, and he was available. But how long would that last, when he learned the truth? Spilling your guts about your shitty childhood and non-existent family was not exactly a precursor to hot, sweaty good times.

God, she really needed to get laid.

But if Graham knew where Emma’s thoughts lay, he was playing it coy. It was their third official date, and so far, there had been zero hints he had any wild seduction plans for later. Just a nice dinner, and drinks at a trendy cocktail bar in the New Town she’d only ever read about.

“You okay?” he asked, setting down her third daiquiri on the bar in front of her. “Is it evaluations?”

Oh, right. Evaluations. As in, all of the student feedback that would be collated over the next week or so, frankly assessing her merit as a teacher. As in, the single largest obstacle which would stand between her and a renewal of her contract. As in, what she probably should have been focusing on, instead of counting the days since her last orgasm.

Still, she took the easy out, releasing a relieved breath. “That obvious, huh?”

He shrugged, a grin forming. “You do seem a little wound up.”

Maybe Graham was gay. That would explain it. How else could a man be so, so oblivious? Killian would’ve seen right through her by now, would’ve already made at least three double entendres and a sly offer to “relieve the pressure”, just to torture her.

God, why was she even thinking about him? Graham was right in front of her. With the biceps and the accent and the research grant. Maybe it was time to take the bull by the horns, so to speak.

“You know,” she began, twirling her straw suggestively between her fingers, “I’m sure there’s plenty you could do to take my mind off of it.”

Okay, so it was a cheap line. But judging by the flare of interest in Graham’s eye, the way his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, it hit its mark. So maybe not so gay after all.

“Yeah?” he said, leaning closer, gaze definitely falling to her lips.

“Yeah.”

She was within a hair’s breadth of making contact when the shrill insistence of a strange ringtone pierced the air, causing them to both jump in their seats, their foreheads cracking together with all of the grace of a slapstick comedy duo.

“Ow. Sorry.”

“Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

Still rubbing at the spot where they’d collided, he reached inside his jeans pocket. His phone. Of course it fucking was. He answered it on the third ring.

Emma didn’t catch much of his half of the conversation, what with the lump rapidly forming on her forehead, but she caught enough of it to know this evening was not going to end the way she’d been imagining when she’d picked out her underwear this morning.

Not that the conk to the head had been that great of an omen.

His face was regretful, and that alone would have to be enough to sustain her. “I’m really sorry, Emma,” he began, but she cut him off before he could continue with the sorry spiel.

“Rain check?” she offered.

His smile was a relieved one. “Definitely,” he said, letting a parting kiss graze her cheek. “I’ll text you.”

Once he was gone, Emma let her fingers trace the all-too-brief path his lips had tracked across her skin, considering the untouched whisky he’d left behind. She took a sip, letting it burn its way down into her chest. Added some water. Then let the rest follow, warming her from the inside out.

So I see your shiner, and raise you one bruised forehead. I didn’t antagonize anyone though, my life is just a comedy of errors. We probably shouldn’t be seen together for a while, or people will assume we’ve joined an underground Fight Club or something. ES

Really? Nothing? ES

Did you seriously fall asleep before 10 on a Saturday? I’m almost disappointed. ES

You are asleep, aren’t you? Because if you somehow sustained a concussion, and fell into a coma I’ll feel really bad. ES

Please text me tomorrow and tell me that isn’t the case. ES

On the other hand, if through some miracle you still managed to “pull a bird” even with that grotesque black eye, and are currently warming her bed, I’d rather not hear the details. As you were. ES

Just… don’t be in a coma. ES

Good morning. Not in a coma. I promise. KJ

With the semester over, and a couple of weeks left until she had to teach any summer school modules, Emma Swan found herself with a serious problem. Free time. A lot of it.

Huge swathes of empty hours when she had nothing to focus on except her lack of a social life, her lack of a sex life, and how her academic future lay in the hands of a bunch of 18 year olds who could only be convinced to fill out their evaluation forms with the inducement of a prize draw to win a free iPad.

If only she hadn’t just dropped a large chunk of change on her flight home for Christmas, she could’ve gone somewhere. The Continent. London. Instead she settled for an off-peak train to Glasgow, sheltering from yet another torrential downpour in the baroque confines of the Kelvingrove Museum.

Ever since she was a young, Emma had always loved museums. Very few places let a skinny kid with hand-me-down clothes and a permanent scowl linger for hours at a time in the middle of a blizzard. It felt like everywhere she went, she was being shadowed by security guards and shopkeepers, just waiting for her to make a wrong move.

Museum attendants, though? They were always looking to indoctrinate the next generation.  And growing up in the North East, there’d been no shortage of monuments and exhibitions devoted to freedom-loving America’s heroic triumph over Britain.

Back then, it had seemed like a Cinderella story to her. Better than a Cinderella story, even, because instead of balls and dresses and true love, there’d been something worth fighting for. There’d been the scrappy underdog winning against the guy with all the money and fancy uniforms.

She was old enough now to know she’d been projecting, but it didn’t seem to matter anyhow. The course had been set, the die cast. Emma was a history nerd, and she liked museums. The faint whiff of epoxy, the lingering scent of cosmoline. Mothballs and musty books. It was home, in a way a single place had never been.

Even the crowds of dripping tourists couldn’t ruin this for her, as she narrowly ducked out of the way of a visiting tour group, crowded around a canvas Emma had once written a paper on in Art History 101.

“Suck it in!” the tour operator declared, in aberrant English. “Now there are some who might say this painting is ‘kitschy’ but I let you make up your own mind. But it is, without doubt, the most enduring vision of the crucifixion painted in the 20th century. Notice the triangle? A clear reference to the Holy Trinity. And do you see the circle?”

The crowd leaned in, chattering excitedly between themselves as each layer of meaning was revealed, as the origins of the work were discussed and debated.

This. Emma had missed this. She’d spent so much time lately repeating the same tired lectures to the same uninspired freshmen, she’d almost forgotten what it was like to really just enjoy the art. The history. The mysteries that lingered inside half-forgotten volumes and coded diaries, still waiting to be discovered.

And with that, Emma thought she might just have an idea. Her best one in a while.

I’m dying, Swan. Dying. KJ

Before our year is up? You wouldn’t give me the satisfaction. ES

True. KJ

Still feel bloody awful though. KJ

I’ll never forgive Lachie for bringing this plague upon this house. KJ

Aren’t you his godfather? ES

Details, love. KJ

Emma didn’t make a habit of turning up unannounced in well-heeled neighborhoods, her bag crammed with every over-the-counter cold medicine available in Boots. On the whole, she preferred her own more derelict side of town, her bag drug free. But Killian had just sounded so pathetic in his texts she’d somehow convinced herself it would be a good idea to check up on him.

It was stupid. She was stupid. And as she heard the approaching slap of bare feet against the hardwood floors from within Killian’s ridiculous mansion, she quickly debated the merits of just making a run for it.

No, she wasn’t a kid anymore. She didn’t just knock on people’s doors and run away as fast as she could. She was an adult. Bearing medicine. It wasn’t that weird.

Fortunately, before she had to talk herself down again the door swung open.

Emma was aware of Elsa Jones. She’d clocked the wedding portrait sitting on the mantelpiece last time. The Nordic beauty with more money than God, and no bad angles. The owner of the bluest of blue eyes, that put even Killian’s to shame. She sat on the periphery of Killian’s tales of his crazy family, always a benevolent presence, a peacemaker. An ally.

But if Emma had the good sense to be intimidated by her two-dimensional mental rendering of Elsa Jones, it was nothing compared to the reality that stood in the Jones’ front foyer, giving Emma the skeptical once-over.

It wasn’t just that she was beautiful. Or the way she wore her designer loungewear, with just the right amount of casual elegance. Not even the way she held herself, with posture right out of a Swiss finishing school. It was that first, frosty look.

The one that caught Emma in its wake and rendered her mute, as her carefully opening lines died on the vine. The woman waited, silent but expectant.

“Hi, I’m-” Emma cleared her throat, and tried again. “Sorry, hi. I’m Emma. Is Killian up for receiving visitors?”

She would ordinarily have stuck out a hand at this juncture, anything to punctuate the grotesque silence. But both of her hands were occupied with bags, and even reaching for the knocker had been painful enough.

“Emma,” Elsa repeated, letting the word settle on her tongue like a new vocabulary word. And then her entire aspect seemed to thaw, as the name registered. “You mean #FindEmmaSwanAFriend Emma?”

Clearly Killian’s column had at least one reader who wasn’t an octogenarian.

“Uh, yup.” At a loss for what else to say, Emma held up the bags she’d lugged all the way from the high street. “I uh, I was just bringing some stuff over for Killian, but if he’s not up for visitors I could just leave it with-”

But before Emma could make with the hasty retreat, there came the sound of frantic footsteps behind her and she turned to see none other than the patient in question, barefoot and limping from contact with the gravel driveway.

“Swan?”

Sick Killian was a study in contrasts. On one hand, the sweatpants, bed-head thing was a good look on him. But there was definitely a sheen, a pallid tinge to his complexion that hinted of a drawn-out conflict against foreign antibodies. But it was the T-Shirt that really stole the show. The one with the cartoon Tyrannosaurus Rex on the front catching some Z’s, with the caption: Dino-Snore.

Emma resisted the urge to dig out her phone and take a picture, for posterity’s sake. But she couldn’t quite stop the grin spreading across her face.

“Dino-snore?”

He scowled, but whatever snide comeback he had forming on his lips died a swift death when he caught the look in his sister-in-law’s eye. With a roll of his eyes, Killian propped the door open, and motioned for Emma to come inside.

“Swan, my sister-in-law, Elsa Jones,” he said, with a weary wave of his hand. “Elsa, this is the eponymous Emma Swan.”

Now things were official, Emma dumped her bags down onto the area rug, and held out a hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the blonde replied, a perfectly manicured hand finding Emma’s own. “I’ve been reading Killian’s columns, of course, but it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Elsa’s grip was firm, confident, even if her hands were a little cold. Poor circulation, maybe.

Killian gave a pointed cough, a hand coming up to scratch up behind his ear. “Well, this is all very civilized. So, what brings you to our plague den, lass?”

Emma looked from Elsa, back to Killian. “Speaking of which, why were you outside? I thought you were practically at death’s door?”

Killian hesitated, and that was when Elsa stepped in, a sardonic smile in place. “Killian’s room has its own entrance. He probably thought he could intercept you before we ever came into contact.” She turned to her brother-in-law with a shrug. “Too slow.”

Emma liked her immediately.

“Would you like something to drink, Emma?” Elsa asked suddenly. “Tea? Coffee? A glass of water?”

Yeah, someone had definitely been drilled in the finer points of etiquette as a child. But before Emma could decline the offer, Killian took a step forward, interrupting her. “She’ll take a water, love. And any chance you’d fix me up another Lemsip?”

Elsa’s eyes narrowed, but after shooting Killian a meaningful glance, she plastered on a smile. “I’ll be right back,” she assured Emma, before disappearing down the hall in the direction of the kitchen.

“So…” Emma began, lamely.

“So…” Killian finished, no better. “Been shopping?” he asked at last, pointing out the bags she’d abandoned earlier.

“Oh, those. They’re, uh, they’re for you.”

“Me?” He knelt down to peek inside one of the bags. “Did you just bring me industrial-sized quantities of phenylephrine, love?”

Well, when he put it like that it sounded weird.

“Erm, I guess? And some tea. Mary Margaret swears by it when you’re sick, and I just had it laying around and-”

“Swan?” he interrupted, before she could make any more excuses.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t mean to upset you, but I think we might be friends.”

[emperor-lover]

BAEE WELCOME BACK AND I'M GLAD YOU ARE FINE NOW❤❤ TAKE ALL THE REST YOU NEED BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT❤ Oh oh and can I request a Jihoon's vampire au scenario?😁

AW THANKS BABE 💕 im really glad to be back, i love writing these lil scenarios! sorry all about my whole laptop fiasco tho, it was a bit of a setback for my schedule ;; this is a long one, enjoy!! if i get anymore vampire!au requests i’ll probably put them in this universe too

Warnings: A little bit of blood mention (and a creepy dude)

Park Jihoon Vampire!AU

from an early age, you had been taught about the terrors and beauty of vampires

they were creatures that were rumoured to be living among all you humans

but they were able to disguise themselves, blending in easily as anyone else

they could be your neighbour, your doctor, your best friend

but no one would ever know, or dare to ask, because vampires would never willingly reveal their secret to a human

but they definitely existed, as there would be occasional report of farmers’ wildstock being spotted with puncture wounds

or the violent attacks involving victims who’d always had a lot of blood loss

or countless blood bags going missing from hospitals

people were terrified but no one could ever do anything about it because they knew vampires were too powerful and too stealthy in comparison to themselves

when you were younger, you always prayed that you’d never have to face the misfortune of crossing paths with a vampire, you were too scared of all those stories

but you could also never imagine any of the people in your life potentially being a vampire

after graduating college, you started wokring

it was your first proper full time job as a typical office worker working in a

the building you worked in was breathtaking, super sleek, super professional, it was where you’d always wanted to work

on your first day, your head supervisor, Yoon Jisung, introduced you to your coworkers on your floor

“Everyone gather round, this is Y/N and they are the new edition to the Marketing strategies team. Please take care of her and show her the ropes. Y/N, please introduce yourself.” 

You smiled brightly, wanting to make a good first impression

“ Hi, I’m Y/N Y/LN, I’m very excited to start working with you all and getting to know everyone better. I’ll do my very best here, please take good care of me!” 

A polite round of applause was given to you and most of your coworkers returned your smile

Your attention was caught by one man in particular, who could probably only be a couple of years older than you if not less, who was standing directly in front of you

His smile was blinding, and his warm brown eyes seemed to draw you in the longer you looked at him

He exuded positivity and you were glad that someone seemed enthusiastic about you being a newbie

You could feel your cheeks starting to grow hot under his gaze and you turned your eyes away

Only to make eye contact with another man who did not look as friendly

He realised you were looking at him and his eyes narrowed, startling you

you could feel a cold sweat running down your back

what was making these alarm bells in your head go off like this??

“Ok, off you go everyone, back to work, make sure you make some time to introduce yourself to Y/N during the day”

A chorus of yes sirs echoes around the room before everyone shuffles off to their respective cubicles

Jisung gave you a warm smile before pulling you over to the side out of earshot of everyone else

“Y/N, everyone is lovely here, but I must warn you. You know that we always do a mandatory background check on our employees before they can start working here….However, despite that, we can never be 100% sure if any vampires are here among us just from that..”

His eyes darted over to the man who had glared daggers at you earlier

“Over there…That’s Kim. He’s a hardworker but he’s more of a one-man team, and doesn’t like working with others. It’s probably best to stay away from him if you can..because….” Jisung gives you a pointed look

You nod vigorously in understanding 

that was what your parents would say to you too before you went to school - “if they give you bad vibes, it’s best to stay away”

Jisung leads you over to an empty cubicle

“Ok, Y/N, so i given you the rookie tour, now it’s your time to jump right into it! You’ve been emailed a list of tasks you’ll need to do today, but if you have any troubles i’m sure Jihoon here will give you a hand.”

The cute brown haired man from earlier suddenly pops up from behind his cubicle and gives you a wave

“Hey, welcome to the team, my new neighbour!”

you laugh and waved back, glad that Jihoon seemed to be a very nice guy to work with

you couldn’t help but glance back at Kim again though, your eyebrows furrowing in fear

To you, it seemed clear as day that Kim was a vampire.

The uncontrollable shiver that you got from making eye contact with him still terrified you. 

but you try to push that thought away and start on your work

everything is straightforward enough

the company is about to start selling a new product and you’re working in a team of 4, in charge of the advertising with jihoon, ong seongwu, and joo kyulkyung.

so you start preparing slides for the presentation at the end of the fortnight

You get along with everyone who comes over to you to introduce themselves during work breaks and a few of them have invited you to go out with them to eat lunch now that you’re part of the team

You’re fitting right in and you’re really liking the job which is always a plus, but you make sure to not get to comfortable because you’re still new

aka, you stay farrrrr away from Kim who’s as shady as ever

You become the closest with the people on your team, they’ve all been doing this job for a while now and they’re all very on to it, often finishing all the tasks they have quickly so they can go have together lunch early.

A day before the presentation, you’re tapping away at your computer, trying to get the finishing touches sorted when you get the fright of your life when Jihoon’s voice chirps in your ear

“Working hard neighbour?”

you’re usually quite observant so you’re surprised you didn’t notice him get that close to you

or maybe you were just super focused on your work

yeah…that must be it

You glance up at him and he smiles warmly back at you

“Feel free to give me a shout if you need a hand with anything ok?”

You nod happy that you’ve got such a friendly soul as your work neighbour

“I’ve already finished most of my section so I’m heading off for a lunch break, but if you suddenly need help and I’m not here just send me a text and i’ll be back asap”

“Oh…but I don’t have your number!”

“Ah whoops, that’s true, hold on pass me your phone”

You reach over to hand your phone to him and his fingertips accidentally brush yours

so cold ???

You glanced back at him concerned, but he doesnt even realise because he’s preoccupied with inputting his number into your phone

“Jihoon, your hands are freezing!”

“oh don’t worry about it y/n, it’s just bad circulation…”

Jihoon waves off your concern but you rummage round in your bag and fish out a pair of gloves pressing them into his cold palm

“Here take these! I have so many pairs and you clearly need them more than I do if you want your precious fingers to stay intact”

you laugh as you wiggle your fingers in the air 

Jihoon stares at the gloves in his hand for a second before slipping them on and breaking out into laughter, wiggling his now gloved fingers back at you

“You’re a cute one aren’t you? Thanks neighbour!”

Now the blush on your cheeks was real

Is this flirting??????? lolol

Jihoon grabs his coat and heads out of the office and you let out the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding

When he had leaned over your shoulder, he smelt like citrus with a hint of vanilla and you had been tempted to ask what cologne he was wearing so you could buy it for all your male friends because boiiiii smells gooood

You look over at your phone and smile at the name Jihoon has put in your contacts

Park Jihoon - handsome neighbour ^^

Jihoon’s phone chimes just as he’s about to take a sip from his blood bag

He smiles when the text preview indicates that it’s you that sent it and he goes to unlock his phone

But before he can, Ong Seongwu has snatched it up, his own blood bag dangling precariously between his teeth

“Who you texting that’s got you smiling like that Jihoon?” he teases

Jihoon doesn’t make a move to respond, knowing that Ong will give him so much teasing shit about him having a crush on a human

too late

“OOOO IT’S A GIRL!!  She says “Thanks for being such a good neighbour ^^”

It takes a few seconds for it to click but Ong’s grin gets even bigger when he realises it’s you

Jihoon shakes his head, “It’s just because she’s new and still learning, she can’t flunk out on her first presentation…”

Ong made a mhmmm noise, clearly not buying the entire story but he makes no move in handing the phone back to Jihoon, continuing to dance around 

Minhyun is just trying his best to stop Ong from spilling anything out of his blood bag and Kyulkyung just observes them all silently, sighing at the chaos

The phone chimed again and Ong excitedly reads the text again, downing the rest of his bag of blood before he reads it in a cute voice 

“Hope the gloves are keeping your hands warm, it’s winter so you don’t want to get sick!”

All their heads turn towards Jihoon’s hands and NOW they understand why the guy suddenly had a new addition to his fashion accessories

“OoOOOoooooOOOoOOO bless, she’s looking out for you!” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes, but if he could blush he definitely would be

He cups his face with his hands, the gloves feeling soft against his cheeks

“shut up and let me feed in peace, we have to head back soon”

Minhyun sighs, patting Jihoon on the back, “Just be careful Jihoon, you can’t let her find out about us…about what we are…”

Jihoon nods, “of course, that’s a given, i’d never risk doing anything that would get us found out.”

After they all headed back into the office, Jihoon looked back at the texts you sent him again and sighed

As a vampire it was hard enough having to hide all the time

actually…it wasn’t too bad, but just very annoying

Sometimes he really couldn’t be bothered having to put in coloured contact lenses in the morning (they made everything look slightly scratchy)

and he’d always get kinda dizzy if hadn’t fed for a while and someone particularly nice smelling came along (aka you)

But humans could be so dense, there were literally vampires everywhere around them, but people always assumed they had to look scary with dark cloaks and fangs permanently out.

There was quite a handful of vampires at the office, and most had their own clan of friends

no one really questioned where another vampire would get their supply from, which is why it was important to have your own clan

because usually if a vampire worked by themselves, it was through dirty methods

most vampires believed that if you were to work among the humans in their communities, you shouldn’t harm them

so those who actively hunted down living people weren’t particularly welcomed

So sometimes Jihoon wonders what he would be doing if Ong and Minhyun hadn’t found him when he had freshly converted

He was one of the lucky ones that’s for certain

Jihoon steps into the elevator and the only other person inside is Kim

He glances up at Jihoon and rolls his eyes

“Had a good sip from your doggy bag, Park?”

Jihoon glared back at Kim, but didn’t bother to engage in an argument

Kim was one of the lone runners

All the vampires knew he would kill people but because he would go out of the city to do it, no one really stopped him, Jihoon included

As the elevator finally reached the office floor, Kim let out a dark chuckle

“That new girl…Y/N…she’s quite the catch isn’t she?”

Jihoon froze and he felt his breath hitch in his throat

“Maybe I could have a bit of fun with her…you’re welcome to join me, I’m sure she’ll be much sweeter than those measly little blood bags Hwang gets you from his father’s hospital”

Jihoon turned round to face Kim front on, eyes blazing

“Keep your filthy hands off Y/N, Kim, I’ll only warn you once”

“Oh Park, you’ve got it all wrong. I won’t touch her with my hands, but I will with these.” 

Kim bares his fangs, and they glisten menacingly 

The elevator door opens and you’re standing there ready to go on your lunch break

“Hey Jihoon!” you smile brightly at him oblivious about the current situation. You notice Kim in the background and you try not to be too obvious how terrified you are as you greet him too. 

“Hello Mr Kim. how are you?”

Kim smirks back at you before throwing an arm round Jihoon’s shoulder

“Just been talking to Park here about our annual MT (A/N: = membership training). It’ll be a good chance to finally get to know you better.” 

You force a smile and nod wordlessly as Kim saunters off to his cubicle

You’re a bit shaken up and Jihoon looks at your worriedly

“Y/N…try your best to stay away from him…he’s bad news.”

You nod and in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere you give him a mock salute

He laughs and gives you a gentle pat on the head as he shuffles past you

As you eat your lunch in the cafeteria with some of your coworkers, you wonder if Kim is the only vampire in the office

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when someone asks you about the MT coming up

“Y/N, do you know where we’re going for the MT? Jisung has been planning it for ages and it’s been so long since our last one!”

“I’ve heard it’s going to be in Busan! Minhyun sunbae told me he was excited to go back to his hometown this year.”

All the girls collectively sigh at the mention of Minhyun and you laugh good naturedly at them

You were excited for the MT, it would be your first one and you were ready to make some good memories

— MT time a few months later —

After going on the Train to Busan (who else has watched that movie ahhh)  you arrive at a campsite in a rural area

it’s super fun, everyone’s excited and there’s lots of team building games and all that jazz

also perfect opportunity for people to get all flirty with each other

When night falls, a few people head off to bed, but most of you stay out to have a few drinks and chat round the fire

You’ve already had a couple of drinks and you weren’t planning on having anymore so you just lean back against a rock and listen to everyone talk

You’re trying your best not to doze off, but the blanket covering your legs is warm and the rock is comfy

wait…what

the rock…is comfy??

you blink rapidly as you realise you’ve been leaning against Jihoon’s shoulder the entire time

“Oh! handsomeguyyy-parkjihoon-it’s-youuuu?!”

ooooh boi the alcohol must’ve hit you and you’re horrified by how your slurred words but that don’t seem to stop you

“yes y/n, it’s me?”

Jihoon is blinking down at you with just as a bewildered expression and you push yourself off so you’re sitting upright

but you must’ve done it too quickly because now you’re feel light headed af

“Y/N, you alright?”

Jihoon’s voice is soft as he gently steadies you with his hand

cold…

everything is too cold

even though he’d been drinking too, he hadn’t warmed up in the slightest

You shake your head, causing Jihoon to frown

“Why? do you want me to walk you back to your cabin?”

You shake your head again, before pulling your blanket off you and clumsily move to wrap it round Jihoon

“You’re TOO cOLD” you manage to slur out, shuffling closer to him in an attempt to conserve body heat

Jihoon is shook

You’re much bolder when you’re drunk

And now you’re fast asleep with your hands wrapped round his because “yOU fORGOT THE gLOVES? I’LL bE YouR GLOVE”

He doesn’t know what to do as Ong snickers constantly, taking photos and saying that his little boy jihoon has finally grown up

A cold breeze hits the air, and although it doesn’t affect any of the vampires, all the humans including you in your slumber shiver

Jihoon moves to stand up, taking you in his arms 

“I should take Y/N back to her cabin… Kyulkyung can you give me a hand?”

it’s only a short walk to the cabin but as the Jihoon rounds the corner he immediately senses someone else’s scent

yoooo guess who>??? it’s the creep!

“Kyulkyung, take Y/N inside now, I’ll deal with this.”

Kyulkyung hesitates for a second but nods taking you from Jihoon’s arms

“Kim, what the hell are you doing outside this cabin?”

Kim’s grin is pure evil as he spits out his reply, “I could say the same to you Park.” 

…….You don’t know when you came around

but you can hear a harsh conversation outside your window

It’s Jihoon and Kyulkyung

You’re about to open the window to ask them what they’re up to so late

but without meaning to eavesdrop you end up hearing parts of their conversation

“Where did Kim go?”

“I don’t know but if he’s smart, he won’t come back anytime soon.”

“Jihoon…just how badly did you hurt him?”

your eyes widen in shock

what had happened?? 

another breeze and the clouds dispersed in front of the moon

and in even from just the faint glow of the moon you could see that Jihoon’s eyes were a bloodshot red, and the veins all over his face and neck and arms were pulsing intensely as he tried to wipe what appeared to be blood off his shoes 

You take quiet, careful steps away from the window

This wasn’t possible

“I’m just drunk, just sooo very drunk” you mutter to yourself trying not to hyperventilate as you curl into a ball on the ground

You don’t realise that they can hear you and you don’t see the looks of horror on their faces when they realise what you’ve witnessed

You hold your breath, when someone knocks on the door, and you don’t go to answer it. 

The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache but a very vivid memory and you try to calm yourself before you get ready for breakfast

Jihoon spots you as you’re filling up your mug with coffee but it seems that you’re so out of it because you haven’t noticed he’s standing right next to you

“Y/N…”

You jump, spilling the hot coffee all over your hand and Jihoon and you curse in pain before apologising rapidly, and then freezing in shock when you realise it’s Jihoon

You try to stutter out a greeting but words fail you so you turn to rush off to grab a towel to wipe up the coffee and an ice pack for your hand

But you’re a step too late because Jihoon has already got a hold of your wrist and is pulling you over to your cabin

And you’re too scared to fight against him

Would Jihoon really hurt you? 

His voice shakes when he finally speaks

“Y/N…how much did you see yesterday?”

You don’t know what to do, your heart is pounding in your chest

“I…Kim…What…?”

You stutter out a few words but nothing is making sense and you can feel the blood rushing to your head so you close your eyes to try block out everything

you can’t focus and you just want to run away but something is stopping you 

You think back to the few months that you’d got to know him

Jihoon has always been so kind to you

He’d go out of his way to help you at work

even after you’d settled in and were no longer the newbie

sometimes he’d bring you a coffee during the break or sneak a pack of cookies over onto your desk because he knew that you’d get hangry if you were working overtime

you didn’t want to assume that he liked you but that had been the vibes you had gotten from him since you started getting close

and you happily reciprocated, like passing him your pocket warmers on especially cold days

or drawing little scribbly memos on his notes telling him to “cheer up” when work was especially heavy 

and you’d freaking used him as a rock to lean on earlier just the day before

so would he really hurt you??

“Y/N please look at me”, he’s pleading with you and you when you open your eyes you can feel his sincerity piercing through you.

“I don’t know how much you saw, but please know I would never hurt you…

…I know im just a monster, I didn’t choose to be like this, but I’m trying my best to blend in and live normally…

..Kim was trying to hurt you, he was waiting for you to go back to your cabin…”

Jihoon shudders at the memory and he reaches over and takes your injured hand in both of his

The cold soothes the burn and you sigh in relief and he rubs his thumb gently over it

“If you want me to leave and go somewhere far away, I will. But after yesterday I realised how much I want to protect you, you need to understand that. You’ve been in so much danger, yesterday you could’ve -” 

Jihoon’s voice cracks and he screws his eyes shut at the thought

Your heart aches watching him belittle himself

you don’t like seeing him hurting like this and you just want to comfort him

your free hand gently reaches over to smooth out the furrow between his eyebrows

“you’re still the same jihoon…all those times you took care of me, you helped me out and believed in me…that was all real. that was all you jihoon…so please don’t think you’re a monster because you’re not”

his face is smooth and cold as you gently stroke his cheek and he leans into your touch as you do so

“i’m so sorry you got dragged into this, I didn’t want you to find out this way…”

you don’t know whether it’s because of the extreme rush of emotions you experienced over the last 24 hours or because you were still drunk from the night before, but you couldn’t stand Jihoon being so hard on himself

So you reached up to grab the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to your level

As your lips pressed against his, you felt his arms wrap round your waist, drawing you closer until you were flush against his chest

and despite his body temperature still being as cold as ever, the warm energy surrounding the two of you makes you feel so safe in his arms, that you never want to leave ;;;

— extra

it’s pretty interesting dating a vampire

Jihoon eats like any other human, but you can tell his tastebuds are pretty indifferent to it all

he doesnt really need to sleep so if you’re having a late night, he’ll come round and stay up with you

or stay at the office until you’ve done all your work before walking home together

it always nice to go for late night strolls under the stars knowing your boyfriend’s got yo back

And although you’re not a big fan of horror movies, watching vampire movies with Jihoon is the funniest thing

Like he won’t shut UP

“Ok, so we do NOT look like that - and how are we supposed to turn into bats? like pls explain that logic to me?” 

You just hit him on the shoulder as he continues to complain

“AND WHY DOES HE SPARKLE IN THE SUNLIGHT? I GET SUNBURNT”

and in the winter time, even though you know he doesn’t get cold, you get matching woolen hats, and they’re kinda obnoxiously cute and ‘95 line always make fun of you two at work

also Jihoon tells you all his stories about being a vampire, and how not everyone is evil like Kim

Like you had figured from that night that Kyulkyung must be one but the shock when you found out Ong and Minhyun were too was almost too funny

   “wait wait wait, so im literally surrounded by vampires???”

[gabriellapatterson-blog]

Challenge 5: The ball part 1

A/N: Thanks to @benjaminschreave and @wyattschreave ALSO I am so sorry that Ben looks like a woman. I hate drawing men but I was like “I WANNA TRY IT” so i did and now Gabby has a lesbian lover who slightly resembles a male. 

My eyes scanned the ballroom with strong intent looking for Ben. He shouldn’t be too hard to recognize. Like me he had a pretty simple mask on. Though, my maids hadn’t planned for me to be in a plain mask. They had crafted a very detailed and beautiful baby blue mask to match my dress with some black accents to go with my choker. However, bad things happen when you don’t look where you sit and unfortunately I sat right where the mask had ended up under the covers.

My maids had gone into utter panic mode and managed to find a mask cut out and some leftover fabric from my dress. Sewed the fabric onto the cut out and called it a night. The simple mask made it decently easy for others to recognize me, but I guess their point wasn't really supposed to be a disguise. Finally I caught my eyes on Ben and made my way over to him.

“Hey, lanky giant, wanna dance with me?” I offered wanting to show off my improvement.

He blinked a bit in surprise at my arrival and looked down at me, “No chairs needed?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Darn you figured out who I was way too fast.” I said and tried to bitterly snap, but the gloves stopped anything from actually having audio from my fingers. I looked at my hand sadly for a moment and shook my head before turning my attention back up to him. “And no. Unless you would like me to twirl you, in which case we can probably find one.” I added.

“We can stick with some Gabby gal twirls just for tonight.” He said with a half smile and offered his hand to me.

I took his hand, “You know, I once threw a party. It was 100 times more fancy than this.” I bragged. Yeah right gabby, you were wasted for 90% of that party you have no idea if it was fancy.

We started to dance, “I believe it. Was it also your royal 21st birthday?”

“I can guarantee it was. We had Cheetos for one. And unfortunately no, I'm still 18, though in almost exactly one month that changes. What does this make you, a gemini?” Woo July 29th, keep your eyes out peeps.

He nodded, “Right on the cutoff. One day more and we’d have the same sign.” You really must know nothing of Zodiac signs. End of july is Leo.

“Incorrect, Schreave. We'd almost have the same sign. Similar to you I'm right at the cut off for cancer, but I missed it so I'm a leo. Aren't gemini's supposed to be the 'mean girls' of the zodiacs?”

He let out a short laugh, “Would you really call me a mean girl?”

“Depends, do you have a burn book? Also you did steal me seashell, that was pretty mean. So maybe you are a mean girl.” I chuckled a bit being fully aware of how weird calling him a mean girl sounded.

“If I had a burn book then I couldn’t very well tell you,” He paused to give a pointed smile, “You might be in it.”

I let out a dramatic gasp, “You wouldn't? What could you even write? I'm flawless, even my bawking is better.”

“Lots of things. Juicy secret things.”

I shook my head disapprovingly, “Gemini really are the mean girls. Guess I don't have to google our compatibility tonight since I already know you're a harsh tall mean girl. I hadn't really believed in zodiacs before but considering how spot on yours is I might have to reconsider.”

“Aww, you’d really call me a mean girl on my birthday?”

I chuckled a bit, “Fine you're not a mean girl, you're a problematic girl. Also that just made me think of the "so you just gone bring me a birthday gift on my birthday to my birthday party on my birthday with a birthday gift" vine.”

He laughed at my recital, “I wouldn’t be upset if you brought me a gift. Not in the slightest.”

“Well, I'm glad for that. I did actually make you something. Too weird to take with me to a ball though so I have to give it to you later. To warn you my family only does homemade gifts. It's a very strong rule. Ian, my older sister's fiance, gave my parents a set of oven mitts and such that weren't handmade...he was almost removed from the house. Exaggeration of course, but its handmade incase you aren't a fan of handmade gifts like some are.”

“Any gift from you I’d like.” He smiled a bit. “You sure you don’t want to grab it real quick? I wouldn’t mind having it now.” I chuckled a bit at the image. It was definitely not something you could just give at a ball. Not something that can easily be carried around.

“It really would be very awkward to carry around at a ball. I'll go ahead and tell you what it is so you can understand why if you'd rather understand then keep a surprise. The choice is yours though since it is your gift and if you'd rather it stay secret that's up to you.”

He pursed his lips together, “Let’s say surprise. I like a mystery sometimes.” He answered and gave me a twirl.

“hmm, I'll take that as an excuse to scare you sometime. I haven't seen your horrified face since our study night.”

He gave me a flat look, “I think I can deal without a few heart attacks from now on.”

“Are you sure about that? Maybe just a little heart attack?” Like a little one is any better.

“What’s wrong with keeping my heart at a normal 80 beats per minute?”

“Your face isn't as funny at 80 beats per minute. It's alright though it also wouldn't be funny if it were too frequent.” I’ll have to work with Wyatt on a good scare. I’m sure he’d be thrilled. Just as soon as I make up the shoe theft to him.

“And I’d probably die too. Something else to consider.” He suggested.

“Pshhh that isn't as much of my concern as it losing its humour.” I said sarcastically and rolled my eyes. “you don't seem like too much of a fan of doing pranks yourself though, is it all of the trauma from being on the receiving end?”

“Unfortunately. All fun and games when we were kids until all of you Selected started to conspire against me too.”

“To be fair I have yet to prank you. The only time I scared you I was scared myself and just trying to hide and avoid being a rule breaker. It's not my fault you were startled by a small girl.” I explained having a pretty solid defense.

He opened his mouth to retort but found him stuck and closed it again, then let out a quick sigh, “I’ve got nothing. I scare easy, plain and simple.”

I chuckled, “It's alright. I'm a tough tough 5'2 gal, if there's ever something that goes bump in the night I can handle it.”

He laughed a bit, “You don’t need a lanky giant to help you out?”

“Nah, you'd just get in my way, scaredy cat. You're like the BFG.”

“Hey, I can be an excellent sidekick. I’ve slayed more than a few monsters in my day.”

“Monsters?” I asked with a scoff, “Were they tiny spiders?”

“I... don’t like spiders.” He mumbled before clearing his throat, “And not the kind of monsters I was referring to.” Oh no. Please don’t tell me his ‘edgy and not a normal person’ please don’t. I won’t be able to take it if he starts quoting some teen angst show for thirteen year olds.

I chuckled trying to move on and not think about my new fear, “You're cute. And it's alright I'm not a fan of spiders either. They fall into the insect phobia. Which monsters did you mean?” I asked.

“The ones hiding in my little sister’s closet. I was the very brave older brother a few times.” He answered with a small smile. Thank goodness.

“Ooh. When Riley went off to college I had to be the big old sister for Ellie so I can respect that. It's a tough battle crawling on the ground to check under a bed. Someday Ellie will have to be the brave big sister for Mae too. Once she insisted that it was real and I had to bring a poker into the closet to duel.” I answered proudly. I was a pretty awesome big sister. Though I can also remember going into Riley’s room when I was little and crying that there was a big monster in the curtains.

He laughed, “You’re right, you don’t need me.”

I chuckled, “Nah, if I'm being fair and not acting like I'm absolutely perfect I kinda suck at arguing, well, debating. I get way too into it.” I said being a bit too honest.

“I heard you were a little passionate at the acting lesson.” He said with a small laugh causing my face to flush.

I rolled my eyes to try and play it off, “I apologized to Natalya and we even played a prank on Wyatt together so at least I was able to smooth it over.”

“Don’t worry, I appreciated it. Sounded like you.”

“What's your position on it? Do you think we should flirt with creepy people for connections or run to a bathroom and ask for help?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not always that simple. I wouldn’t ask you to flirt with anyone who made you uncomfortable, but sometimes depending on their position you have to at least be friendly.” His expression sobered a bit, “However if they ever cross a line then you definitely should get someone.”

“Hmm it makes sense in perspective I guess. Later we talked and I kinda understood it more. I used to be 'friends' with a girl named Nina who was on the cheer team. I didn't like her at all but for the sake of the team I put up with her so I guess it's a little like that. She was pretty vile.” I shared.

“Exactly. Some advisors are…” He glanced and looked around, “not the most kind. But we still have to put up with them.”

“Are they the old people who won't let dubstep at the ball? That would make them pretty unkind.”

He chuckled, “Worse. That’s me being discreet.”

“Did you have to invite some of the not as positive people to your birthday ball?”

“Unfortunately. Keep up the good relationship and what not.” We used to have to invite over some distasteful family members on my dads side when we had birthdays, then we would celebrate on our own on the day or a few days after. Maybe I could do something like that for ben.

“Hmmm, gives me an idea. Though, it's for me to know and you to eventually find out. And to calm any fears it's not intended to horrify you.” I said adding in the last part since he might be a bit scared after our previous discussion.

He let out a short laugh, “I’m holding you to that. When can I expect this idea of yours to happen?”

“Soon. Very soon. Otherwise it would be super late. Not tonight though, it requires....scheming. Probably with Wyatt though Hazel is my favourite of your siblings so far. She ate 90% of the white chocolates from the beach which is why there were less of them than the others. But Wyatt has a skill set that I need.” I’ll have to make up the shoe problem.

“Hazel is probably all of our favorite sibling.” He said with a small chuckle, “But yes, anything with a particularly secret skill set, Wyatt will be best at.”

“I wonder if he'll forgive me for stealing all of his shoes for the sake of doing some unknown thing for you.” I thought aloud with a small chuckle.

“Mmm, well lanky giant, I have pleas to now make with your brother on a tight schedule and I'm sure you have old dubstep haters to negotiate with. So we should probably part ways for now. But, before I'd like you to compliment my wicked dance improvement. Because I've done pretty awesome, no foot crushing, no tripping, and most importantly no twerking.” I added.

He laughed a bit, “No one compares to your wicked dance moves, oh majestic dance queen.” He said and gave me another quick twirl, “One more for good luck with Wyatt.”

I chuckled a bit as he twirled me, “Thank you for the luck. I'll need it, Benny boy.” I said once it had finished, gave some quick finger guns as an exit and made my way to find the brother.

Soon I found him and walked up and poked his arm lightly to get his attention, he gave another hard gaze. Jesus he needed to learn how to control that if I were someone important I would have thought the prince of Illea was trying to assassinate me with glaring daggers. His expression softened as he realized it was me, “I need my shoes back.”

“You have one pair.” I answered with a small chuckle. “I'm glad you had to take a moment to figure out it was me. I was bummed when Benny boy guessed it off the bat.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Guessed what?”

“Oh that I'm me. You had to look at me for a moment. You did your scary glare at a stranger touching you.”

He scoffed a laugh, “That’s not a thing, just—” He shook his head and sighed, “What do you want, Gabby?”

“It's happened to me twice now, let me just say it is terrifying. Makes me wish I wasn't alive. And I want your help with something for your brother.” I looked around since I wanted to explain my plan to him but couldn’t without explaining that some of the advisors sucked, so I looked around for a moment before realizing that I don’t know what any of the advisors look like.

“wait I don't even know what they look like.” I mumbled to myself before getting the idea to lean up and whisper in his ear.

“I have to be quiet about it in case there are any old important people around so I don't offend them. It has to do with them sucking.” I explained.

He looked confused and wary as I stood on my tiptoes but burst into laughter at my statement before realizing he had and covered his mouth and sobered up, “yeah... I don’t think they’d appreciate being called that.” He pulled back, “But I’m not doing you any favors. A bunch of left shoes are useless. They’re supposed to be a pair. They’re getting lonely.”

You drive a hard bargain, Wyatt. “Fine, I'll negotiate with Natalya to get some of your shoes back. It'll be a tough fight though. Will you help me now?” Didn’t say a matching right shoe but maybe he won’t notice.

He grumbled a bit, “Depends. You still haven’t told me what you want.”

“Oh, I need help kidnapping your brother and sneaking him out of the palace for like a surprise birthday celebration, since he had to have a bunch of-” I paused and lowered my voice, “old people who he doesn't like-” I raised it back to my normal level, “come.”

He looked amused, “Kidnapping, huh? Well, it is one of my side jobs. Next to smuggling and raiding.”

“Don't forget wall evaluation. I still have no idea where we would take him since I don't know this part of Angeles but I can google it later. We should talk methods for kidnapping.”

“I can help you pick something later. As for methods” He paused to think for a moment.

“I could tell him to go out as we usually do. I’ll just be vague as to what we’re doing and then we’ll surprise him with your presence.”

“Thank you wyatt. Soon you will have right shoes added to your left. We should probably do it soon though so it isn't like years after his birthday. Obviously, not tonight but soon.” I added.

He snorted, “I’ll try to figure out when’s the closest day we can do it. Inviting a bunch of people we might not want around is a common thing for our birthdays though.” It is for most people too.

“Hmmm must be a pain. Though I imagine it's similar to having to invite a racist aunt or grandparents.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Harsh. Our grand dad thought he was better than lower castes, but we actually had to live with him.”

“Yup, I get that. My folks on my dads side are similar. Unfortunate for us they're the ones who live in Angeles and the chill ones in Clermont. Really makes holidays a stress.”

He looked amused, “you just need someone to kidnap you after the holidays.”

I chuckled, “Clearly. So what did you get your brother? When I was distracting you while Natalya did the dirty work I asked but you seemed to be very against sharing until he had it.”

He smiled proudly, “I have no good reason to tell you after what you did.”

“I'm fixing it plus I'm curious. Not to mention who knows what I'd do while trying to distract from my curiosity. Maybe, just maybe, someone could end up with only bow ties instead of normal ties.”

He hummed as he considered, “I look really good in ties...but I guess I could tell you. It’s not as exciting as you might think.”

“Hmm I have pretty low expectations and pretty high curiosity so even if it's not super exciting I will be satisfied by knowing.”

He stared at the crowd for a moment, “It’s an unfinished album.” album?

“Wait- like you're making him an album or is it like a playlist of songs?”

He nearly choked on a drink he had taken from a waiter, “I meant a photo album.”

I let out a small laugh I had been holding in now that the confusion was cleared up, “Thank goodness. I was picturing Wyatt the rapper laying down some beats.” I laughed a bit more before composing myself, “Do you take a lot of pictures?” I asked.

He nodded, “You're in some of them.” He then thought for a moment before making an aha face. “There's this one where you're looking at your eating utensils with the greatest dread ever. It's pretty amazing.”

My face flushed for a moment, “Why?! It's not my fault that someone decided to trap the utensils in napkin bondage. Why would someone even do that? They're like "oh oh? You think you're ready to eat now that you're seated and have food?" Wrong. Time to learn, origami.”

He laughed again, “I’m sure they do it to trick people like you. No respect.”

“Really cruel. Why not just put the utensils on top of the napkin? Why do they need to fold them? Honestly, I'd like a reasonable explanation.”

“I’ll ask the napkin staff whenever I get the chance. And I’ll tell Ben about that horror we’ve never considered before. I’m sure when he’s King, he’ll ban the art of napkin folding forever.”

I rolled my eyes with a slight scoff, “You can hardly call it an art.”

He smirked as he looked down at me, “What would you call it, oh great, wise Gabriella?”

“A slight annoyance. Similar to how I would refer to you, of wise and great Wyatt.”

He raised an eyebrow and tipped an invisible hat, “Touché.”