#and yes if you ever pick up his game i am here to advertise to you not to play the dub (even tho the text will still sometimes be wrong...)

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

"yuri lowell is a manly heterosexual"

yuri lowell:

[alliddewrites]

FAVORITE

Chapter 1:

Extravaganza

Revenant x Legend!Reader

Content disclaimer:

Not completely canon compliant,

Takes place a bit after season 9,

Mention of murder,

Mention of guns,

Gender neutral reader

Summary: You join the Apex Games, but before you can actually begin, you have to go through all the extravaganza.

Word count: 2218

Masterlist

The Apex Games…

Out of dozens and dozens of competitors, you came out on top.

It was honestly unbelievable.

The sheer anxiety and excitement throughout the match. Except this time, the stakes were even higher. It was the last competition you needed to win to qualify to be a Legend.

To be a Legend... Your biggest dream. You have been working towards this goal for quite awhile now.

Of course, the road was rocky. It had its ups and downs, but you're finally at your destination.

You can have it all now! The fame! The money! The recognition you've always wanted!

The recognition…

The recognition!!

How could you forget about the upcoming interview?? Every winner gets interviewed after their matches!

All that adrenaline must've blocked out some important information in your brain…

The match only finished a couple of hours ago, and now you've already got to go somewhere else.

Man, this is going to be extremely tiring…

What are they even going to ask?

How personal are they going to get?

Do you have to wear your competing outfit? Or can you just wear anything?

Why didn't anyone inform you about these things??

'You're going to get interviewed.' Yeah? And what else? They said where and when, but not much else.

God… Guess you'll have to improvise!

Forge wore a suit in his interview. The one that went wrong…

You'll have to dress fancy too then!

Make it elegant, but not too over the top.

You got this!

You got this.

——————————

Okay, maybe you don't got this.

All the cameras and the lights in this relatively empty room are extremely anxiety inducing.

The banners of you in your fighting outfit are pretty flattering, but being in the spotlight right in front of them is not the most calming thing you could be doing right now.

At least the photographers notified you to stay in your armor for the photoshoot…

They also cleaned you up after the match.

Wouldn't want a competitor in a blood sport to be bloody in the advertisements now, would we?

"Starting in 5 minutes! I repeat, we're starting in 5 minutes! Everyone to their places, check your equipment again to make sure everything works properly!" yelled the director. Every single staff member hurried to their places.

Huh, he commands the room well.

As you stand on the side awkwardly, the interviewer walks up to you and asks to go and sit down in the chairs located on the stage.

"Very nice to meet you, I'm Lisa Stone.

Some staff members are going to come up here in a second to put a microphone on you, so relax and get comfortable . You don't have anything to worry about"

Well, Forge didn't have anything to worry about in the beginning either… You wonder how Ms. Stone got over that incident. Probably required a whole lot of therapy. Poor woman.

"O-Oh thank you! Nice to meet you too." you replied, trying to look as relaxed as possible. It wasn't very convincing…

You both took your respective seats.

While 2 members of staff started putting hidden microphones on you and Ms. Stone, she picked up a stack of papers and looked through them.

The interview questions.

"One minute left! Everyone better be ready, no mistakes, this is going to be live!"

No mistakes. Don't mess up.

Be as level headed and polite as possible. Can't mess this up, if you do, no one will take you seriously.

It can't go worse than Forge's interview though, right…? I mean, it was a literal assassination… by the coolest robot to ever exist!

Okay maybe phrasing it like that is wrong, but it's true-!

"Are you ready to get started?" Mr. Stone inquired, interrupting your inner rambling.

"Oh! Y-Yes, I am." came your hesitant reply.

This is going to go great…

"Good. I know this can be hard on some people but there's no need to worry." she smiled reassuringly.

At least she's not actively working towards making your situation worse, you can appreciate that.

"Starting! In 5!"

The lights dimmed.

"4!"

Well, this is really happening.

"3!"

Ms. Stone faced the main camera, you followed.

"2!"

Goodbye last shred of confidence!

"1! ACTION!"

The lights slowly came back on.

"We're sitting here tonight with our latest Legend to join the Apex Games; (Y/N) (L/N). It's great to have you here." Ms. Stone began, turning towards you during the last part.

"Thank you! The pleasure is all mine." you answered, trying your best to seem less nervous.

"So, now that you're finally here, how does it feel to have accomplished such a big feat?" she questioned.

"To be honest with you, tiring, extremely tiring."

you exclaimed, Ms. Stone giving a short giggle to your response.

"But it feels great. Surreal even! Accomplishing one of my greatest dreams, one I've been working towards for so long, is still pretty hard to believe." you chuckled lightly.

"I can imagine. It must've been pretty hard having have had to train every day for multiple competitions.

Was it nerve-racking to have your very last match be a solo match?" she responded.

"It did amp up the anxiety for that match, yes. But I'm glad the last qualifier is played without teammates. I, and many others, will then know whether I'm actually good enough to proceed or not." you say, gaining a bit of confidence back. Maybe this whole interview thing isn't going to be so bad after all.

Mr. Stone looked at you, surprised.

"I haven't heard anyone say they preferred the solo matches for the finals before. Interesting." she noted. There was a short pause while she looked down to check her papers.

"Next question… 'Why did you decide to join the games'?" came her scripted inquiry.

"I don't like getting too personal on TV, but one of the reasons was that I like guns a lot. I love to go to firing ranges to try out various kinds of firearms. I don't own any personally, but I'm very much interested in them." you answered.

You really didn't want to get into your private life and past too much…

"Another reason is that I like strategy games and working in small teams. Something like the Apex Games seemed like the perfect combination of both!" you added right after.

Ms. Stone looked at you quizzically. She probably didn't expect an answer like that.

"What an interesting motive. So the reason is 'just for fun'? No deeper meaning there?" she tried to dig deeper, genuine curiosity appearing on her face.

"Nope! Just wanted something big I can achieve that I'll also enjoy."

You know that one is a lie.

"Curious… Let's do something more fun then:

'If you were to pick a favorite, out of the current roster of Legends, who would it be'?" she looked at you, once again, very interested.

You heard somewhere that this was one of her favorite questions to ask, but even then, somehow you didn't think this far…

"Well, this will sound very weird, because most people wouldn't choose him as a favorite… but um-" you take a long pause, palms becoming slightly sweaty.

You look away from her, not wanting to see her reaction to that answer.

It was indeed a very unique choice to have as one's most liked Legend.

"It's… um… Revenant…"

.

.

.

You swallowed, your mouth and throat feeling dry.

You've never heard a quieter silence before. Not a single person was making a sound, even the director was staring in shock.

Some people were looking around awkwardly, some were staring right at Ms. Stone and you. Eyes darting back and forth.

Ms. Stone stared at you, absolutely appalled, mouth slightly open. Her reaction was perfectly understandable.

Having seen that same simulacrum murder a Legend right in front of her…

You cannot blame her.

"P-Pardon?" she gives a nervous laugh. "Did I hear that right? Re-Revenant? The simulacrum?" she asks to confirm, tone uncertain.

You nod your head slightly, still not looking at her. Well you made this situation indescribably awkward.

You should've lied about this one thing; could've said Mirage or Pathfinder, or even Loba! But no! You had to tell the truth!

Ms. Stone cleared her throat. "We-Well, that's certainly… an… i-interesting choice. Um… May I ask why… him…?" her voice was shaky, having been reminded of what she has witnessed before, right in front of her.

You take a deep breath. You really need to think about this, you can't just compliment him all you want, he's still a murderer.

Be smart. Be empathetic, she got traumatized by him, you need to choose your words right.

"Umm… I'll be honest-" everyone takes a deep breath, "-it's, um… mostly because he… uh… h-he's cool…?" you say, drawing out the last two words.

The sentence sounded just as uncertain as you.

The staff kept staring at you, now solely focused on you.

"Ahaaa… and there's no other reason, at all?" she kept prying, suspicions still clearly present.

"Yeeaah… He just… does things so efficiently, e-even if they're horrible. He was designed so well…" you say back, trying to calm her down, if even just a little. You really do not want her, and all of the Outlands by extension, to hate you.

Ms. Stone kept staring at her pages, not reading any of the sentences written there. "Mhmm… He's efficient alright…" came a quiet murmur from her.

She finally turned back towards me.

"Now, people can have their preferences, within the law of course.

I'm relieved you don't agree with what he does, even though he's your favorite." she pipes up after a brief silence, still not sounding 100% sure about this.

Ms. Stone turned towards the main camera.

"Well that's all for today's interview. Thank you so much (Y/N), once again, for coming. We're happy to have another Legend join the games." she briefly takes a glance at you.

"We'll be back with the next championship's winners real soon. Stay tuned." she finishes up, completely professional.

As the live stream ends, everyone seems to sigh at the same time. This must've been one of the worst interviews they've witnessed throughout their careers. Oops.

Note to self: don't get into weird and awkward situations next time by choosing the worst option. You really don't need to ruin your reputation before even starting in the Apex Games…

If it isn't already too late for that…

——————————

After the whole debacle, you had to meet with your new manager. He was a kind dude, avoided the topic of your recent mess up so he doesn't embarrass you further with it.

He explained everything that needed to be known before your first game; where you'll be staying from now on, training routines, schedules, gear, sponsors, how the seasons work, etc.

You also had to sort out some more paperwork before everything became completely official. You wrote your name so many times, it was unbelievable. You're pretty sure you haven't written it this many times while you were learning to write when you were just a kid!

This whole day has been extremely tiring… By the time you got home it had been late at night and you were ready to pass out and never see the world ever again.

Your new apartment welcomed you with open arms. The bed looked oh so enticing in the bedroom, but before you could get in it to finally be sent to the dream world, you had to unpack your things.

You got the biggest walk-in closet you've ever seen, to load your clothes into. The shiniest bathroom you've been in, to set your hygiene products up in.

It really does pay to be a Legend, huh? And you haven't even had your first match as one yet!

After you finished putting everything away, you went back to the bathroom to get ready for a shower.

It's astounding how high up the apartment is, the large floor to ceiling windows give a great view of the world below. The gorgeous starry sky mixed with the beautiful lights below, made for a sight to behold.

After you finished admiring the new perspective you got thanks to your new living space, you got into the shower to wash off all the dirt and stress you've acquired today. Finishing your shower, you got out of the steam filled cabin, dried yourself off with a nice fluffy towel and got dressed in your nightwear. Before going to bed however, you didn't forget to wash your teeth.

Throughout your nightly routine, you started to feel more and more relaxed, becoming less and less aware of your surroundings. All you were focused on was finally getting to sleep.

At last, you got into bed, covered yourself in the enormous blankets that laid on the mattress beforehand.

Looking around your room, you thought about how you were going to decorate the place in the future. In its current state, it all looked very generic, something straight out of a display in a furniture store.

It didn't take long for you to enter dreamland after a couple of ideas that slowly made their way through your head.

.

.

.

What you didn't notice before that, however, were the pair of seemingly floating, glowing eyes watching through your windows with clear interest…

[bleedingcoffee42]

WIP game!!! Your fic Life makes me absolutely feral so obvs "Life - Ch 7"

I am working on this, I promise. I have to finish that soulmate fic first. I have a ton written but I have to go back and reread the entire thing to see what breadcrumbs or landmines I left for myself because I just make it up as I go and make it future!me's problem. Plus I got sucked into research about the Nixon plant getting blown up and might want to use Stan's car accident. Anyhow, snippets out of context under the cut because this is all about indulging bitchy housewife Ron.

“I put photos up on the situation board you need to look at.”  Dick said and Nix threw up his hands in the most New Jersey expression he had yet to see from him.  “Didn’t say where I got them.” “Yeah, hard to figure that out.” Ron mumbled and pointed at Nix. “You’re staying here. You’re not going back to that house alone.” “Yes, sir.” Nix said and hummed. “Cock and wine night,  here I come.” “What are they looking for?”  Dick asked to nobody in particular. �� It wasn’t the blackmail material, anyone who knew about them wouldn't care they had classified docs floating around. He then looked at Nix.  “They were looking for you.  You’re the most valuable thing in that house.” “Damn, Dick. You guys are one hell of a team.  One second he’s telling me I’m moving in and next you’re telling me I’m a treasure.” “I think we’re looking at this all wrong.” Dick shook his head.    “Boo.”  Nix frowned.   “You’re a treasure, Nix.”  Dick said and then leaned on the kitchen counter.  “I think someone’s trying to take you.” “Take me, Dick.”  “As in kidnapping.” Dick clarified only to have Nix redirect his grin to Ron. “Take me, Ron.”  “Nix.” Dick chided.

And later that morning....

“I need to borrow your truck.”  Ron said as he entered the room.  Dick was getting ready to leave for work and Nix was ogling him putting on his holster.  He wondered at this point if Nix was ever going to go back to his own damned house. “I need it to go to work.”  Dick said and shrugged his shoulders as he got the leather harness to sit right before putting on his jacket.  Then he waved at Nix who still had his own gun, jacket, keys, phone and wallet piled on the counter.   “For us to go to work.” “I’ll drive you.”  Ron said.    “In my single cab pickup with manual transmission?”  Dick asked.   Ron rolled his eyes, and turned to Nix.  “You ride in the middle, unless you have a problem with spreading your legs for a shifter?” “Not. At. All.” Nix hummed. “Great. I’ll drive.”  Ron grabbed the keys off the counter and the remains of his coffee from this morning. “It’s my truck.”  Dick repeated. “And I would like to actually get something done today before I have to pick you two up from work this evening. Like cook complicated dinner your Mom wants me to made in order to seduce you.”  Ron said, not looking for an argument.  Especially since Dick drove like a tourist. “Cock and Wine night.”   Nix reminded Dick. “But…” Dick protested before Ron snapped at him. “You want to shift gears into his crotch right before you go to work on day three, after he already tried to kiss you yesterday?  Going to beat it off in the locker room before your shift starts? Or just jerk each other off in the truck to save time?” Ron asked, bitchier than needed but, by GOD, someone had to smack some sense into him. Things he never thought he would have to do for one Richard D. Winters. “I do believe that is inevitable.”  Nix said.  “So, why don’t you have a car?” Ron huffed. He wanted to bark 'Just get in the damned car' but these two just had to keep asking questions. “I just haven’t decided what I want yet.  Been gone 10 years and have driven army vehicles, not sure what is out there I want.  Other than an antique Mercedes I can’t afford anymore because of our property taxes. Which is fine.  They aren’t as bullet proof as they advertise.  Any other questions?”

[coralsgrimes]

So I’m honestly asking because I have no clue what you are referring to. Why do you hate Ben Barnes so much? You seem to keep referring to things he did but you didn’t say what. I’m confused but I really have no idea what these bad things are and would like to find out.

Ye really do make me typing like a madman today lol

Said it a million times and I don't hate Benny Boy. Imma just disappointed and also hate is a strong word and I neither have the time nor am I 12 to hate someone online lol

I don't say what he was fucking up cuz this blog is mostly our own lil pond and I generally assume that everyone swimming here should know by now x.x also I've been repeating myself over and over about all of this shite. Scroll waaaay down lol

But since I'm typing...

So the thingies that I personally find to be hurtful, the fangirls been putting a flaming sword up me ass when I mention them. Can ye believe???

The first thing is obvi the half naked photoshoot in a pool, with a minor! which he called romantic! done by a photographer who he called his friend and who also photographed Sofia Richie aged 14/15 like she was a on a cover of the hustler.

Then we have his ongoing association, PUBLIC ASSOCIATION, with a circle of friends that includes scientologist, racists, sex pests, people protecting and vouching for the sex pests some of them currently on trial, also women who engage in victim blaming publicly, and not so surprisingly a cult leader wannabes are in that crowd as well. And again, this are not some fandom connect the dots allegations. This is all a open public we been friends for years said out loud.

And the next thing, that me thinks had broken the Benny spell completely, was his 'crisis in Ukraine' insta post from last April (featuring choose love... cuz why not). The obvious months wait for a fucking t-shirt to arrive, sunny day happy photoshoot and advertisement friendly language so that instagram won't cut his visibility so everyone could see what a great chap he is! The bare minimum, the bad taste, the quick edit of the post after he been called out and obvi the radio silence since.

Oh coral but it's not like he the worst person in the fucking world. Like no he's not but the picture he tries to paint of himself is cracking and showing how fucking fake it is... No surprise tho he a celebrity and british after all x.x

In other thingies, he obvi a bestie with Jules who i have personal beef with completely outside of Benny.

Speaking of her, the very possible possibility that he been having an affair with a married woman is kind of wow okay something if ye ask me. Then we have his music which should be classified as a dangerous especially for aquatic life (🪸), young and elderly and everyone else.

Yesh I know celebs are fake but he is just... The fakest at this point?? Like so obviously fake without a drop of genuine intentions, just doing this to secure his cushy life.

Oh and while we still at around twin flames orbit. The pandemic... Stay home be a good boy, but not me!! I am Benjamin Barnes and I shall do the opposite and then gaslight gatekeep...

I can go into/list more irks honestly but that's just ye know being petty and cherry picking kind of. Ye know I say I hate his look at me imma an activist reposts but other peeps are glad he 'spoken out' about the issue. Then there are his fandom games and basically begging his fangirls to baby him like when he's called out... He can't take responsibility for anything (pandemic travel anyone??) and he won't take direct and decisive stand on anything ever (not even saying world issues, I mean his so called FEMALE friends that needed strong public support but he stayed silent) cuz as long as he is bland and pleases everyone he is cool he is safe.

And at the end of the day what he does is he covers up, avoids and baits with something else hoping that the air clears. Here we should look at his 'brother' Chris D'Elia. He was sniffing around him at a time he was assaulting several women, Benny at the same time was dating a wannabe model in her early 20s... Allegations about D'Elia circled around for years but no one dared to speak loudly cuz he was SOMEONE. Then shit hits the fan and what our dear boy Benny does??? He, with a speed of a lightning, deletes covers up blocks gets rid off any obvious connection to his so called brother. Case closed.

Also like his enormous ego and the obsession to cover up his private life like crazy, that kinda sus and not healthy I want a private life but again it's just me lol

Would link me old posts but I'm on the mobile app and it's like so hard to find all that shite. There are more details in them old posts if ye as interested. But this is the crash course into Benny Boy by Coral lol

[bigskydreaming]

Brain topic du jour is reflecting on the frankly weird as fuck pattern in Dick’s life where....he barely ever experiences losses one at a time. Most of the loss he’s experienced in his life is compounded by him losing multiple people and other elements of stability all at the exact same time.

1) When his parents died, in some continuities this is coupled with him losing his extended family of his aunt and cousin as well, with his uncle left comatose and on life support for years before he eventually died as well. Even in continuities without Richard, Karla and John, the loss of Dick’s parents is compounded by the additional loss of his circus family in the sense that he was taken away from them by the state and their constant reassuring presences in his life were no longer comforts he was able to rely on.

2) When Jason died, Dick didn’t just lose his brother, as the tragedy was compounded by Bruce’s reaction. I’ll never be able to gloss over the effects of NTT #55, personally, because I think its too key to Dick’s entire characterization and the specific direction his character took in the years that followed this, to like....disregard that Bruce however unintentionally, while lost in his own grief, added to Dick’s own sense of loss for Jason in probably the worst way possible. As by kicking Dick out and telling him to leave his keys, Dick - having no way to know or guess that they’d ever reconcile, just like he never actually went back to the circus being a regular presence for him - to Dick, this was in essence the equivalent of his childhood tragedy all over again. Losing not just one family member, but his whole family in one sweep, and all the comforts and stability offered by a home he was forced to leave. Even Dick’s contact with Alfred was minimal for awhile, because why would the guy who basically JUST saw history repeat itself and was like, well I know how THIS tends to play out.....why would he think that if Alfred felt forced to actually choose between his loyalties to Bruce and Dick respectively, that Alfred would pick Dick over the man he’d known and raised from childhood himself?

3) Titans Hunt. I know I harp on this one a lot, but you can’t deny that it fits the pattern. Dick didn’t just lose one friend and teammate.....he lost Joey, he lost a good four or five lesser known Titans who nevertheless were people he viewed as directly HIS responsibility to keep safe. With these tragedies compounded by the fact that though comics played out a lot more slowburn and extended stories over years back then, like.....the aftermath of Titans Hunt was still everpresent and directly died into Dick’s reactions and emotions during the Mirage storyline and everything that happened with the failed wedding and his breakup with Kory AND the fact that he was literally forced off the team he’d basically founded, by the government agency that took over the team and appointed Roy as its leader in his stead.

3) Graduation Day. The second time the Titans disbanded it was again not due to a singular loss, because Dick didn’t just lose Donna at this point, but also Lilith died in the exact same story and though Lilith is criminally underused, like, she’s also one of Dick’s oldest friends. She was literally the first Titan to join after the original five. This then led into the Outsiders era, where Dick was shown to still be reeling from the losses of this story for an extended period of time, and in a fun parallel to the Titans Hunt aftermath, Dick was also ousted from his leadership of THIS team by essentially a vote of no confidence by his teammates (and uh, Bruce too, literally).

4) The Blockbuster arc. Where Dick’s emotional state was due to a continued string of multiple losses. He lost his apartment building and almost every one of the neighbors he’d built a community out of, as we’d been shown him actively involving himself in their lives and vice versa for YEARS before this point. Then he lost his circus, his childhood home, burned to the ground and with dozens of deaths - both spectators and actual performers Dick had known and loved as a child. Then he lost his relationship with Barbara, his sense of self-security and autonomy to Tarantula, he lost another teen vigilante who died in his colors, the mantle HE’D created, when Stephanie was believed dead in War Games, and it all culminated in losing the city he’d invested himself in as his CHOSEN home, the place he dedicated himself to protecting, when Chemo blew it up.

Oh just for the record - my nonexistent passport to the magical kingdom of Narnia for a fic that raises the point when bringing up Tim’s losses in the Red Robin era, that like.....ALL of the above happened at literally the EXACT SAME TIME as all Tim’s referenced losses occurred. Obviously Steph meant more to Tim than Dick on a personal level, but I also included her largely as an anchor point to the timeline, to show how that death, and not long after that Jack Drake’s and then Superboy’s.... occurred right smack in the middle of one of the absolute WORST periods of Dick’s life. To be clear, I don’t intend this to suggest that no actually, Dick had it harder than Tim - nah. 

No thank you. Hard pass. I hate that sort of thing even in support of my own faves over other characters. No, instead the thing I’d love to see explored more is just in light of the SPECIFIC angle fics take here - that Dick’s actions while Bruce was lost in time showed an obliviousness to everything Tim had lost lately - for literally ANYONE to bring up or introduce into the timeline here an awareness of everything Dick had lost AT THE EXACT SAME TIME PERIOD. To establish that actually, Dick didn’t just ‘not understand what it was like’ - rather, its more accurate to say that nobody in universe around this time ever shows an awareness of Dick’s own losses and says oh wait, that doesn’t track then. 

Because obviously, with this stuff put in proper perspective, Dick understands VERY VERY WELL the exact thing we’re accusing him of not understanding by being oblivious to Tim’s losses that he’s not actually oblivious to because he tries to talk to Tim about them all the time, while meanwhile its everyone else who has absolutely mum to say about the fact that Dick’s emotional state is compromised to hell and back at this point, not JUST because of losing Bruce, but also because *gestures wildly* literally ALL OF THE ABOVE in the exact same time frame Tim’s extended losses happened in.

And okay I am going to indulge in slight tiny itty bitty pettiness and point out my ire that so many fics set during this time tend to recite listicles of Tim’s losses, with Steph, Kon and Jack Drake at the very top of said list....while paying no attention whatsoever to the fact that STEPH WAS LITERALLY BACK BY THE TIME THE RED ROBIN SERIES HAPPENED. She’s LITERALLY a person Dick sends to check up on Tim after Tim turns Dick away when he tries himself. How are you gonna stress the impact Steph’s loss has on Tim when you’re not even acknowledging STEPH’S RIGHT HERE IN THE EXACT SPECIFIC CANON STORY YOU’RE CITING??? I just. afhioskhflafhlafhklfahlfa. 

And not to put too fine a point on it, but you know who ELSE was also back at the same time? CONNOR. Superboy LITERALLY was already back to life by the time the Red Robin series even began. Like, the issue where a resurrected Kon and Cassie (Wonder Girl) have a heart to heart about the fact that Tim and Cassie ‘connected’ during his absence and Connor stresses that this doesn’t bother him or make him feel negatively towards either of them at all, because hello, he was literally dead at the time, why would he mind that two of the people he loves most in the world sought comfort in each other? Yeah, that issue? Literally came out BEFORE Tim even became Red Robin.

I MEAN. I’m just saying, when people constantly take shots at Dick’s choices during this period because of how much Tim had lost before Bruce already, in order to shift focus away from the fact that Dick lost Bruce every bit as much as Tim did......and you repeatedly emphasize the SAME three names as the focal point of Tim’s losses while paying no acknowledgment whatsoever to everything Dick lost at the exact same time Tim lost these three.....it quickly becomes kiiiiiiinda relevant in my opinion THAT TWO OF THE THREE NAMES CONSTANTLY MENTIONED AS BEING TIM’S LOSSES ARE NO LONGER EVEN LOST BY THE TIME THE SUBJECT COMES UP. Again, I’m just saying! Pettily, mind you! I am aware of the pettiness, I just beg awareness of like *again gesticulates wildly at all of the above* ALL THAT!

LOL.

But I digress.

5) When Bruce was believed dead while he was lost in the timestream. Again, Dick didn’t just lose the father who had been the only parent in his life for almost TWICE as long as his first parents......this was coupled with the loss of numerous other sources of stability in Dick’s life. There’s the matter of his personal sense of identity and self-expression....Dick FOUGHT against becoming Batman, trying to handle Gotham in Bruce’s absence as Nightwing for as long as he could, because he knew being Batman was very much NOT going to be good for him. He put so much of himself into building his identity as Nightwing, establishing himself in that role, that self-image, that yes, I maintain it was an actual LOSS for Dick, to feel like he had no choice but to give that up and everything it meant to him and his own life, in order to essentially live Bruce’s life for him in his absence. 

Because it wasn’t just being Batman that Dick was struggling with at this time....he also had to act as the patriarch to the Wayne family, essentially raise Bruce’s ten year old son, step into Bruce’s old role in Wayne Enterprises, all while getting no acknowledgment for any of this, for literally LIVING his father’s life instead of the life Dick had worked so hard to build for HIMSELF....because of course Dick’s actions and struggles couldn’t even be advertised beyond the family and close friends, because the whole point of him doing all this was so that nobody else even realized that Bruce wasn’t really there anymore. Dick didn’t just assume Bruce’s responsibilities. Dick assumed Bruce’s life, so thoroughly that most people didn’t even put together that Bruce was ‘dead,’ between Dick handling Bruce’s actual roles and responsibilities while Hush made public appearances as him. 

Like, when you’re living someone else’s life so completely that nobody can tell they’re even gone....how on earth does that leave any time or space for you to have ANY kind of life of your OWN, y’know? Not to mention the fact that like in so many times previously....all this meant that Dick couldn’t even afford to let his grief for his own losses show, because he wasn’t supposed to be grieving any losses in the first place, that was the whole point of the con!

Additionally, couple this with the fact that throughout this time period, Dick didn’t have Tim to lean on at all, because it was never that Dick kicked Tim out or neglected him or didn’t care....he’d actively stressed how much he needed Tim, because the partner Tim was convinced Dick chose ‘over’ him - Dick was the first one to admit back then that he DIDN’T trust Damian yet, couldn’t afford to, because he was all too aware that Damian didn’t give a fuck about him yet and couldn’t be guaranteed to step in to have Dick’s back - because that required mutual trust that Dick literally just hadn’t had time to build yet. And add to THAT the fact that during this time, Jason was actively antagonizing the family and Dick in particular at every turn, trying to bring them all down and basically write over what all of them saw as Bruce’s legacy with Jason’s own version of what he thought that should look like.

Also also, take into account that unlike how often we see fanon depict Dick as just too stubborn or proud to ask for help, there’s the fact that he actually had very few avenues TO ask for help! As already established, he DID ask Tim for help. Not like Jason was an option at this time, and Dick’s friends weren’t actually just sitting waiting in the wings and groaning about the fact that Dick was trying to do all of this solo....nah, they kinda had their own problems, which Dick was all too aware of?

Like the fact that in the wake of Final Crisis, it wasn’t just Bruce that was believed lost. Many other key Leaguers like Martian Manhunter were dead or lost, with others struggling to fill the gaps left in their absence. Cry For Justice happened right after Final Crisis too....that story where Lian was murdered? So it wasn’t like Dick was remotely going to try leaning on Roy when Roy had just lost his freaking DAUGHTER and very much wasn’t handling it well (and not to overshadow Roy’s loss at ALL, but please let’s not act like Dick - who had literally been the person to put a baby Lian in Roy’s arms for the first time and had known that girl for pretty much her entire life - like, it shouldn’t be used to detract from Roy’s loss at all, but it shouldn’t have to, to just acknowledge that Lian’s loss right at this exact time was painful as fuck to Dick, who’d loved his niece like crazy.)

The pattern of compounding, concurrent losses in Dick’s life. I’m just saying. Its there.

And it extends into the New 52 as well, where Forever Evil came right on the heels of Dick losing his circus in THIS continuity to the Joker, just as a way to hurt him in Death of A Family. And with the aftermath of Forever Evil and Dick’s own literal death, being like....the complete loss of Dick’s entire life, even though he was revived quickly. That didn’t mean he got to live HIS life though, since Dick Grayson was believed dead and he was told had to remain so, so its like fuck whatever he actually wanted to do as he went about on the Spyral mission aka something that pinched his own sense of morality and personal agenda at every turn and was kinda the last thing a therapist would recommend for a trauma recovery period, lol. And like, for all the focus that was paid to how Dick’s family were hurt because they believed they’d lost him when he was actually alive, let’s not forget that for all intents and purposes, Dick DID lose his family in the wake of his resurrection because he was flat out told over and over that due to what ‘he’d LET happen to him’ he was an ACTIVE danger to them, and thus wasn’t allowed by Bruce to contact any of them or lean on them to any degree, until Bruce got amnesia and stopped blocking Dick’s pleas to return home by just not being there to pick up the secret phone line at all. 

(And omg, the obliviousness that just EMANATES off the hot takes that Dick had a ‘choice’ in all this and he still CHOSE to do what Bruce told him....like. LOLOL, stop being pissy about me bringing up the term abuse apologism when its literal victim blaming to paint the guy who had to be beaten into ‘agreeing’ to the Spyral mission in the immediate wake of the trauma of DYING, all while his father vocally blamed him for his own suffering and the ‘threat’ he now posed to his family, keying directly into the guilt complex Bruce knows damn well is at the core of most of Dick’s motivations.....fucking please. There’s no choice in all that. That’s active emotional, mental and physical abuse aimed at directly manipulating Dick’s actions, delivered by the guy who knows Dick best in the world and whose approval - particularly when Dick is at absolute rock bottom aka Current Location - matters more to Dick than just about anything because his sense of self-worth has more in common with dog shit than actual dog shit does. Or something. Idk. That analogy got away from me. But like. You get it.)

BUT. I. DIE. GRESS. (I guess).

Aaaaaaanyway, so yeah! That repeating pattern throughout Dick’s life of ‘loss? What loss (singular)? My losses only come in groups, lolol, fuuuuuun’ - mmmm. Yeah. So that’s what’s on MY brain right now. Thoughts?

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie fanfiction: Playing house (Rated T, Humor) Part 1

In which the ones at the end of time place them in a reality where they are a married couple in a suburban town, à la WandaVision.

Master list of my Loki x Sylvie fanfiction can be found here.

---

They didn't know what to expect at the end of time. But they certainly didn't expect to open the door to the citadel and walk into a town.

"This must be an illusion", Loki says in horror as he takes in his new surroundings- two storied houses in every shade of pastel, gardens of roses, lillies and lilacs, wide open roads, pavements lined with freshly cut bushes. "This isn't real."

It looks real enough though. It feels real too.

This is the quintessential suburban town. And they are in a quintessential suburban house.

"They have trapped us in a nightmare", Loki concludes, scanning the new neighborhood again, this time spotting the children playing tennis in the front lawn of the house next door.

Sylvie touches the door frame with the words "Mr. and Mrs. Low-key" etched in the wood in gold. Her fingers trace the letters. It feels so surreal and impossible, yet it feels just as real as she is. "Apparently, we're married in this reality."

"It's not all bad then", he concludes cheekily.

She gives him a death stare. "I don't have time to play house with you right now."

He shrugs. "Until we find a way out, we have to." He checks out the neighborhood one last time for any identifiable imminent threats, before walking back into the house- their house. Holding the door open, he gestures to Sylvie. "Coming?"

She smooths the wrinkles in the sundress she has ended up with, vowing to definitely kill the bastards that did this.

-

The interior of the house does not suit two gods of mischief at all. It's all very... quaint. The sofa is soft and snuggly, the telly hanging from the velvet painted walls is huge, her wardrobe has way too many dresses and skirts, and the knives in the kitchen look like they'd be hard to kill a man with.

"Can you conjure me up something less-" she vaguely gestures at her figure, her lips arched in an angle that spells distaste.

He understands exactly what she means, but does exactly what he wants. With a snap of his fingers, he conjures up an entire rack of clothes for her.

She checks them out one by one, noticing how every jeans, every top is designed a specific way. "These look very tight."

His grin tells her it's intentional.

"You know I can still wipe that smug look off your face in this reality, right?" Her voice expresses how serious she is.

He waves his hands again, and this time, a second rack of clothes materialises, ones which are more functional.

She picks a jeans and oversized top and disappears into the bedroom.

He plops down on the sofa, staring at the Van Gogh hanging from the wall, wondering what their next move should be.

---

The ring of the doorbell breaks them out of their contemplation.

Sylvie grabs every single knife she can find in the kitchen drawers, Loki grabs the mop. Gesturing to each other, they open the door at the count of three, to find a woman standing there with a casserole in her hands.

"Hiya neighbor", she says cheerily. "I heard that you two just moved in. Oh my, that's a lot of knives."

Sylvie holds one up to her throat. "Who sent you?"

The woman grimaces, keeping her eyes fixed at the spot where the knife touches her skin. "My husband. He thought we should welcome our neighbors."

"Liar", Sylvie barks, and increases the pressure on the knife. "Tell me who sent you here before I cut your tongue out and feed it to the cats."

It's at this moment that Loki decides he has to intervene before the situation escalates to unnecessary murder.

"Sylvie, Sylvie, honey", he coos, slowly guiding her away with a gentle touch to her shoulders. "This lovely woman is not the friend I was expecting." He pushes her inside the house, at a safe distance from the lady, before throwing a charming smile in her direction. "I am so sorry. My friend was supposed to visit, I asked my wife to help me play a prank on her. She thought it was you. It's all a giant misunderstanding. Allow me to apologize profusely on behalf of my wife."

Sylvie switches between glaring at the lady and at her "husband".

The lady laughs nervously. "It's quite alright."

Loki extends his hand. "Hi, I'm Loki." He wraps his other arm around Sylvie's waist to pull her close. She tenses, and for a moment he thinks the knife will end up aimed at his throat, but she relaxes a little and gives the neighbor a tiny smile. "And this is my wonderful wife, Sylvie."

The lady shakes his hand. "I'm Agnes. So nice to meet you. Where are you from? Low-key, that sounds Nordic. Are you from Norway?"

"No."

"Yes."

They answer at the same time, then glare at each other, as if their answer was the only acceptable one.

Loki rushes to fix it before Agnes gets suspicious. "What my wife means is, we are from Norway originally, but we moved here from Alabama."

Agnes smiles. "That's a long way from home. Welcome to the neighborhood."

---

Sylvie erupts the moment the neighbor leaves and their doors are closed. "Why the bloody hell are we playing along with this ruse?"

Loki looks at her seriously. "What is the alternative? Murder our way out of here? Slaughter an entire innocent town?"

"No, no, no no." She paces till she is standing directly in front of him, holding her chin up in a posture of challenge. "Why slaughter a town when you can rule it, right?"

He lets out a sigh. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath. He needs all the strength in the world to reason with her. He opens his eyes again and begins. "We don't know how we got here. We don't know what dangers are here. We can't plan an escape like that. We need to gather information and learn everything we can about this place."

"This place is clearly hell", she roars, letting out a scream that shoots a wave of energy out of her hands and shatters the coffee table.

"Perfect", he mutters under his breath, as he picks up the mop.

---

"I'm hungry." She announces after an hour of sitting on the sofa, sulking, while going through the hundred different channels and trying to pick even a single thing worth watching.

"Oh yes, me too." He agrees quickly. "Starving, actually."

She motions at the cell phones on the table that the house came with. "I suppose we should order something like humans do."

"Yes, of course." He nods in agreement. He picks up the phone closest to him, swipes up the screen, and sees the wallpaper of him and Sylvie, on a beach, hand in hand, in matching Hawaiin shirts, with matching grins on their faces. He knows this isn't real, this has never actually happened to them, but it makes him smile anyway. Swiping to the side, he notices the phone comes with too many games. There are also apps that he knows from advertisements. Opening one that promised good food in no time, he stares blankly at the incoherent list that pops up.

She gets impatient after a few minutes. "Well?"

He purses his lips. It's difficult to admit defeat. "I don't actually know how to order."

She blinks in disbelief. "What?"

"I don't know how to order food." He repeats.

"How can you not know how to order food?"

"Well, I've never had to do it myself." He says, irritated, before his tone turns boastful. "I've always had someone do it for me." Food was never even a concern in Asgard. On earth, he has always had some human gladly do it for him. No God would ever bother with the trivial details of food ordering.

"Lucky you." She says dryly, before snatching the phone out of his hands. She pauses to look at the wallpaper as well, at the waves and the sand and the two happy people that represent a life that they can have if they choose to. Before the thought can take its root in her mind, she quickly focuses on ordering.

He stares at her in awe. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I didn't exactly grow up in an Asgardian palace." She rolls her eyes. "I had jobs, Loki. I know how to look after myself."

"I am so glad I'm stuck here with you." He says with a grin. "It makes everything easier."

"It's not that easy. We still need to pay for the food." She points out. Then a horrifying thought occurs to her. "Do we even have money?"

He wants to point out he can just conjure some, but before the words can form in his mouth, she rushes to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers. He follows, and opens the refrigerator, staring at the inside of the freezer.

"People don't keep cash in the freezer, Loki."

"I knew that." He lies.

She switches to the bedroom, and he follows her there as well. She looks through the dresser drawer, the wardrobe, and searches under the pillow. He looks under the bed.

"Look at us. Searching for money to buy food with. What a shame." He muses out loud. "Mortals used to offer food to Gods."

"Food and virgins." She spits the words out angrily. "I hate these archaic ways."

"Oh, me too, me too." He pretends to agree. He likes being worshipped. He likes the food and the offerings. The virgins? Well, he took virgins in a very different, very alive way, and they were all very willing.

"I don't think we have money in this house." She announces, sitting down on the bed with a huff. "Is this his masterplan? Make us starve to death?"

"Allow me." He snaps his fingers, and wads of cash appears in her hands. This is what he was going to do before Sylvie started searching and he decided it's best to first find out what useful items they have in this house.

"That's handy", she notes. "I suppose it'll be easy for you to do chores around the house."

"I don't do chores." He declares.

She glares at him.

"I don't know how to do chores." He clarifies.

Her glare never loses its edge. "Well you better figure it out soon then, before I cut your fingers off."

---

They eat in complete silence, adjusting to this new reality they have found themselves in. Loki tries to make conversation, tries to tell her a story of banquets in Asgard, but she stares absent-mindedly into the distance, and he takes the hint.

Night arrives quickly.

"I'm exhausted. We should sleep." Sylvie admits. She gets up, ready to change into something more comfortable for the night.

He gets up too, and heads in the direction of the other bedroom. Of course, all he wants to do is snuggle up close to her. He can think of a hundred excuses to talk her into it too. But he holds back. "Well, I wish you a very merry slumber."

She doesn't want to focus on why she does it, but she calls out to him. "We should stick together. Just in case the enemy decides to attack while we're asleep."

He stops in his tracks, smiling like a fool. "I agree. Clever plan."

Ten minutes later, they are both awkwardly lying side by side in bed.

Sylvie stares at the ceiling, at the glow-in-the-dark stickers that are shining. "Is that what people's ceilings look like?"

"Mostly children's."

"The constellations..." She notices. "They're slightly different."

"Yes." He smiles. "This is the view from Midgard, not Asgard."

"Oh."

It's quiet for a while. Loki wonders if she fell asleep. Then he hears her whisper. "I hate this."

"Why are you suddenly acting like this?" He finally asks. "You have been patient your whole life, planning everything for years. You always have a plan, and a good one. Now you're suddenly in a rush to get out of here. Why?"

She doesn't answer. She doesn't even open her eyes. With her focus on the darkness behind her eyelids, it is easy to forget that this is the most peaceful evening she has ever had, that this is the life she always wanted, the life she has been fighting for.

He studies her features, memorizing the way she looks when she tries to fall asleep. Tentatively, he touches her hand. Her fingertips twitch involuntarily, before she responds by taking his hand. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get out of here, I promise you."

---

(To be continued)

[keelywolfe]

FIC:  Someone to Drive ch.2 (standalone)

Summary: The road trip continues!

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Melancholy, Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Developing Relationship

Part 1

~*~

Read Part 2 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

That first day, Stretch slept through most of it. Curled up in the passenger seat, he didn’t bear witness to the movement of the sun overhead, traveling across the sky the same way they were traveling along the highway. Signs passed by, billboards for luxury apartments and advertisements for the closest fast food drive-thru, along with more esoteric restaurants offering old fashioned family meals and fun.

They stopped for gas twice. The first time Edge paid at the pump and the second, he went inside the convenience store where he ignored the stares of the other patrons as he purchased drinks and a selection of pastries and snacks with expiration dates that might well extend into the next decade. There wasn’t time to inspect them too closely. The car was locked but he was deeply uncomfortable leaving Stretch sleeping in it alone and surrounded by unfamiliar Humans.

In the brief time it took him to gather up supplies, Edge kept the car in sight, waiting impatiently in the line while the Humans in front of him purchased gas and cigarettes and lottery tickets. No one approached the car, or him for that matter, and the clerk at the register hardly stammered when she gave him the total.

The bag went into the backseat, except for the drinks that ended up in the holders in the middle console; unsweetened green tea for him and lemonade for Stretch. Both were room temperature before Stretch woke. By then, they were through the remainder of this state and well past the ‘Welcome to the Pacific Wonderland’ sign to the next one.

They were as far away from every place Edge considered home as he’d ever been when Stretch stirred in a waking up sort of way rather than the sleepy rearranging of the past few hours. He sat up, his hood sliding half-off, and blinked owlishly as he looked around at the car. When his eye lights landed on Edge, he seemed to wake up a little more, slumping back into his seat.

Edge only glanced at him out of the corner of his socket and kept his gaze on the road.

“where are we?” Stretch asked. His voice was hoarse from sleep, rasping dryly.

“Somewhere in Oregon,” Edge said. He picked up the lemonade from the console without looking at it and held it out in offering. “According to the sign, they hope we enjoy our visit.”

The lemonade was nearly snatched from his hand and he listened as Stretch drank thirstily. The bottle was empty by the time he sighed out a grateful, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” That passed as the only conversation between them. There was no questioning the direction they were headed, no wheedling requests to stop at the next exit to a ridiculous roadside attraction. Edge only drove on, keeping the radio low because it seemed like the thing to do when your not-really-a-friend looked to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

The only other sound was the occasional vibration of Stretch’s phone. He glanced at it a few times but never seemed to reply to any texts.

Edge already texted Undyne when they’d first stopped for gas, along with his own brother. Undyne replied with several obscenities and an agreement to feed the cat. Red did not reply at all and no one else tried to contact him. There weren’t many who would.

Mostly, Stretch sat slouched in his seat, watching the blur of passing landscape outside the window. His hands occasionally tapped on his knees to the rhythm of whatever was playing on the radio and he sometimes sang along under his breath, almost too soft to be heard.

Eventually he discovered the bag of food in the backseat and scrounged through its offerings, selecting a cellophane-wrapped cheese danish for himself. The banana nut muffin was given to Edge with its plastic packaging removed, carefully wrapped in a napkin from the bag to keep crumbs from scattering over the car interior. It was surprisingly thoughtful, and Edge took his eye lights from the road long enough to murmur a thank you.

Stretch didn’t reply, already wolfing down his own pastry, though he was careful to keep the crumbs contained.

When he finished, he tucked the wrappers back into the paper bag, bringing back out with him the bottles of water Edge purchased. They replaced the empty tea and lemonade ones and both of them settled back into a much briefer silence, broken when Stretch abruptly said, “advertising.”

Edge blinked, glancing at him, “I beg your pardon?”

Stretch nodded towards the window. “that billboard. it said ‘advertising.”

“Yes?” Edge asked, cautiously. “That is what billboards do.”

“uh huh. benefit!” Stretch said triumphantly. Edge was beginning to worry about what sort of chemicals the ‘Kum and Go’ station was adding to their pastries when Stretch added, “cold!”

The point of the game clicked and Edge looked out at the approaching signs, searching. “Diesel,” Edge said, firmly.

“aw, come on,” Stretch moaned. He flopped back dramatically into his seat or at least as much as the seat belt allowed. “street signs don’t count, only billboards!”

“If that was a rule, you should have specified before you began,” Edge said, then added, “East.”

The competition began in earnest after that and the next few hours passed in a flurry of exchanged words in careful alphabetical order, peppered with the occasional out of place curse and if Stretch used ‘Qdoba’ from the green exit sign rather than a billboard in defiance of his own rules, Edge was too relieved for the dreaded ‘q’ to be vanquished to offer any protest.

It was nice, in a way, the dappled green of the passing trees around them, the billboards, and the sunshine pouring in through the windows as they quarreled, only laughingly instead the real arguments they’d had in the past.

Edge still didn’t know why they were here at all, but he was finding it didn’t really matter. Not yet.

~*~

It was barely dark when Edge pulled off into the rest stop that evening. Normally he wouldn’t have considered sleeping before midnight, but then, normally he wouldn’t have been up at three am in the morning, nor would he have spent the entire day driving. The billboard game petered out with the encroaching darkness concealing far too many words, and Stretch was half-drowsing next to him, rousing as Edge put the car into park.

“huh?” Stretch asked, drowsily. Despite all the sleep he’d had, there were still darkened smudges beneath his sockers, as if the slumber only glanced over him instead of settling in. He scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand, blinking too hard and confused. “we stopping here?” Stretch sat up and got a better look at their surroundings. “a rest stop?” he asked doubtfully.

“Yes,” Edge agreed, unfastening his seat belt. “I may not need a bathroom, but I do need a rest.”

“a rest stop,” Stretch repeated. "we're gonna sleep at a rest stop?"

"I believe it’s traditional for road trips." Edge opened his door and stepped out into the cooling air, groaning as his aching joints basked in the chance to extend his long limbs to their fullest.

Stretch followed him, asking nervously, "isn't that illegal?"

"Not in this state. Besides,” Edge circled around to the back of his car and opened the hatchback, “no one will be able to see us back here.”

His brother had mocked him when he’d purchased an SUV, rambling on about soccer moms and incels. Edge had ignored him. Much as he would have enjoyed a convertible like Papyrus’s, practically demanded that at least one of them own something with more space and a bright red paint job was an invitation to police for a traffic stop. His face was already invitation enough, in Edge’s opinion, and when he’d bought the SUV, he’d gone with plain black.

In the back, he kept a small emergency kit stored away. Years of living in Snowdin taught him to be prepared and it was, with road flares, small traffic cones, and a neatly folded-up blanket. Edge moved the box of supplies to the front seat, out of the way, then took out the blanket and shook it out. He frowned at the size of it. “I’m sorry, I only have the one.”

Stretch only shrugged. He was gathering up the trash from the last of their snacks and the empty drink bottles, tossing them all into a nearby bin. “it’s fine, it’s not that cold.”

Very quickly they figured out that a larger blanket would have only been of minor assistance. The SUV was excellent for moving boxes and small furniture, less so for sleeping arrangements. Even with the back seats folded down, there was only enough room for them to both lay full-length if they stretched out at a diagonal. It meant sleeping far closer than he usually ever was to Stretch, both of them pressed up against each other with the musty shared blanket spread over them.

Stretch didn’t seem to mind, offering no protest to the close quarters. Point of fact, he settled in close with a sort of muted enthusiasm, as if craving the contact. Edge didn’t deny him, only sliding his arm under Stretch’s head in a very narrow makeshift pillow.

They lay together in the silent dark and as tired as he was, sleep was slow in coming. Headlights would cut through the windows as other cars pulled in and left, the traffic sounds too close, and the car interior too quiet, in a way his apartment was not, showcasing their mutual breathing. Stretch shifted next to him, his long legs bumping into Edge’s.

“i heard you moved out,” Stretch said suddenly. His voice was soft and still too loud in the quiet.

“I did,” Edge agreed and nothing more.

Stretch didn’t ask why, which was good because Edge was tired of not being able to explain, even to Red. Beneath his careless attitude and bluster, Edge knew his brother was hurt by him leaving, worried that there was no one to watch his back. Monsters often lived several generations in one home and Red surely wondered why Edge didn’t want to live in his. He wasn’t sure how to make his brother understand that he wanted a chance at something else, that simply being on the surface wasn’t enough to chase away the ghosts of Underfell. He wanted to live on his own, to figure out something that he didn’t have the words to express.

Not that he needed them, he supposed. Red always had more than enough words for both of them.

Stretch hummed curiously, “how’s that going? i mean, having your own place?”

“It’s—” Edge’s breath caught as Stretch’s pelvis shifted against his own, bumping up against his hip in what was certainly a deliberate little grind. It was distracting and not nearly as alarming as it should be. His mouth filled with soft magic almost unconsciously as it happened again. Belatedly, Edge finished on, “fine,” though he no longer remembered the question. His focus was on the slender body pressed close to his own, the surge of warmth rising underneath the threadbare blanket.

They'd kissed once before, a long time ago when they’d all still been underground. The self-proclaimed skeleton clan made up of, well, themselves, meeting for movie nights. On that night, his brother brought over a few jars of his latest batch of moonshine, the clear liquid deceptively tasteless and enormously strong. A small glass that would normally only ease the reality around them instead turned it into a blurred whirlwind, and by the next day Edge had a killer headache and few memories of the night before, save one.

Of him and Stretch, and as it turned out, their antagonism was easily muted behind the mask of hard liquor. They’d bumped into each other in the kitchen entryway, Stretch going in and Edge coming out, and their faces were so close together that to Edge’s alcohol-soaked thoughts, a kiss seemed to be the only reasonable solution.

He couldn’t recall if it was a good kiss or not, only that Stretch accepted it and that his mouth was as filled with honeyed sweetness as his words never were. But when Edge tried for another, Stretch held him back. He’d offered a lopsided smile and said with uncommon gentleness, “sorry, edgelord, i’m not really interested in sleeping with you tonight.”

Edge hadn't bothered to point out that he hadn’t offered to sleep with him. It seemed churlish when he'd already been rather kindly brushed off and neither of them ever mentioned it again. He’d long since written it off as a moment of drunken foolishness and nothing more.

He wondered if that statement still stood. The leg sliding up his own and the knee teasingly pressing almost between Edge’s femurs seemed to indicate it did not.

Edge didn’t move as a hand settled on his ribcage, beneath the blanket but over his t-shirt. He only inhaled sharply through his nasal cavity and waited. He wasn’t sure what to feel when that hand did not move, fingers only flexing, the tips briefly digging in as their warmth bled slowly through thin cotton.

"is this…all right?" Stretch asked uncertainly.

Edge closed his sockets, took in a long shaky breath and let it out in a hiss of, "Yes."

The word barely finished before a mouth caught his own. As sweet as his blurred memories, stuttering nervously before firming as Edge turned towards Stretch and their bodies slotted together easily, like pieces from the same puzzle.

Fumbling in the backseat of a car was a stage he’d skipped when it came to his sexual awakening, mostly for lack of a car. The environment lacked a great deal, room, comfort, privacy, and yet, it was difficult to care. How could he care when Stretch was shivering against him, little moans and pants escaping him as Edge let his hands wander, finding sensitive joints and cartilage to stroke and tweak, nibbling along his mandible to explore the delicate cavern of his audial canal.

It was less awkward than he might have thought, their past arguments were as distant as their home. There was only here in this car, with the occasional flash of headlights illuminating them and offering glimpses of barely exposed bone and wide sockets. Edge only tensed when Stretch fumbled with his belt buckle, wary when a hand wormed its way down the front of his pants. People were often surprised by his preference for a vulva over a penis, a few were even offended, acting as if he’d misled them or perhaps that it was beneath him to prefer being penetrated during sex. More than one sexual encounter had been ruined by the assumption that he would be the one using his cock and he couldn’t help tensing as he waited to see if this would be one of them.

But Stretch didn’t comment, his slender fingers moving with no emotion other than eagerness. When Stretch tugged impatiently at the waistband of Edge’s tight jeans, he helped shove them down, only to startle as Stretch followed their downward path, slithering lower with bony fingertips, then the wet heat of his mouth.

Edge clapped both hands over his own mouth, choking off a cry at the slippery touch of a tongue against bone and ectoflesh. He stared up the fabric ceiling of his car as it was briefly illuminated in the flash of headlamps, his pants caught around his knees and Stretch’s face buried between his femurs, only closing his sockets when the rising pleasure and that clever tongue became too much, sending him shuddering over a gloriously toe-curling peak.

All too soon Stretch crawled back up over him, his eye lights overbright and his mouth wet as he stuttered out, “god, you—you’re so—”

Edge never got to hear exactly what he was. He opened his mouth to the slick press of Stretch’s against it and tasted himself on his stroking tongue. There in the stuttering darkness, he never did find out why they were here, but he did learn a few things about Stretch and about himself.

He thought perhaps the soft, deep cry Stretch made when he came was his best discovery on this trip so far.

tbc

[adenei]

Ch. 2 How to Win a Witch in 10 Days

AO3 | FFN

James rolls out of bed after the third snooze of his alarm clock. He knows exactly how long he can wait until he has to get out of bed so he won’t be late for work. Sometimes he misses living with Sirius and Remus, who used to help make sure he was up and at ‘em on time.

Stretching, James releases a groan as he goes to the bathroom and turns the water on for a shower. At least I’m not competing for hot water anymore. He steps into the scalding hot spray. He’s barely been living on his own for a month, and has to admit the perks certainly outweigh the drawbacks. Besides, they still work together for Alastor’s Ads, so it’s not like they never see each other.

After a quick lather and rinse, James steps out and towels off. He figures he has a good ten minutes to floo to the office. He’s pulling clothes out of his closet when Remus’s Patronus bursts through the window.

Get to the office. Now.

“Well, that doesn’t sound foreboding or anything,” he mutters to himself.

He quickly dresses and grabs his bag before heading to the fireplace. He’ll have to take a mid-morning break to get a bite to eat since the wolf interrupted his usual routine. Tossing the powder into the hearth, he steps in and transports himself to the office.

Sirius and Remus are waiting for him when he arrives, with looks of concern donning their faces.

“What’s got your wands in a twist this morning?” James assumes it’s not dire, and that Remus only sent the Patronus as a stern reminder for timeliness.

“It’s the Zabini Jewels pitch,” Sirius responds.

The name raises the hairs on the back of James’s neck.

“What about it?” he plays it cool.

The three men begin walking to James’s office, where Remus shuts the door after they all pile in.

“Well, the good news is that Moody liked your pitch,” Remus states, clearly easing James in as he begins.

Alastor Moody is the owner of Alastor’s Ads. After a mission with the Aurors put him out of commission, Moody opened an advertising business to do something with his settlement claim. He knew how corrupt the advertising business can be, so he set out to make the industry a little more honest, consequently weeding out the shadier businesses in the process. In the ten years since the company opened, it’s risen to the top spot of marketing in Magical England.

James’s position typically consists of wooing clients from magical games and sports and the food and spirits industry, but he’s recently begun dabbling in businesses outside his forte. Zabini’s is an up and coming jewelry shop with a lot of money backing its name. James submitted the proposal to Moody earlier that week, hoping to hear whether he would be the one to move forward with the pitch.

“Why do I sense there’s a but…” James trails off.

“Well…” Remus grimaces.

“Oh, come off it! If you’re not going to tell him, then I will!” Sirius interjects. “Moody’s given the pitch to my cousins!”

“No!” James bangs his fist on his desk, causing some of the hot young interns who are standing by the water cooler to jump and turn around.

James relaxes enough to flash a charming smile their way as he turns back to his best friends. “That was my proposal! I should be the one who meets with Zabini!”

“We know. But Moody said something about women ‘knowing and understanding’ the business more,” Remus attempts to calm James.

“That’s bullshit! Maybe they’re the ones who receive the jewelry, but blokes are the ones who buy it!”

“I know, mate.” Sirius throws his hands in the air, indicating he’s not the one James needs to argue with.

James is pissed. He’s worked too hard on this proposal for Moody to give the pitch to someone else. I’m not going down without a fight.

“Where are they?”

“They already left for a meeting at Witch Weekly.”

“Well, when are they meeting with Moody?”

“At Abbott's tonight,” Sirius answers automatically. Remus shoots him a look.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

James looks down at his desk. Memos are piling up from existing clients, but he can’t be arsed to worry about those right now. He needs to sign Zabini. It will be the breakthrough he needs to stand on his own in the business, and a way to finally prove to himself that he doesn't need to rely on his parent’s wealth.

A look of determination crosses his face. “I’m going to crash their meeting and sell my pitch.”

Sirius holds up his hand for a high five as Remus winces. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, James.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not going down without a fight.”

James sits at a small cocktail table, sipping on a firewhisky at Abbott’s, a swanky magical speakeasy tucked away in the heart of Muggle London. The walls are painted an elegant navy blue that stands in stark contrast with the white marble floor, giving off an air of class and wealth that James has always refused to engage in. Gold trim lines the backlit shelves that house bottles upon bottles of expensive alcohol for the bar’s many eager patrons.

Business starts to pick up as the night drones on, and James can’t help but notice how many beautiful women are out on this fine Thursday night. If he didn’t have a pitch to snag, he might be on the prowl, looking for a good time. But he’s already limiting himself to one drink so he can keep his mind clear, but that’s not to say the alcohol isn’t tempting.

“Potter, what are you doing here?” Moody’s gruff voice can be heard from across the room.

James immediately stands up on his boss’s arrival. Ordinarily, he’d hold out his hand in greeting, but Moody’s always been a suspicious man, so he forgoes the gesture.

“I heard you accepted my proposal for Zabini’s Jewels.”

“Yes, and it’s my intention to give the pitch to Narcissa and Andromeda.”

“Why, sir?” James asks. He’s about to continue when another voice juts in.

“Why what?” Andromeda asks.

As if on cue, the Black sisters appear.

“What’s he doing here?” Narcissa quickly follows.

“It’d only be fair if the person who submitted the proposal has a hand in acquiring the pitch,” James says as suavely as he can, ignoring the ladies’ interjection.

“Ha!” Andromeda scoffs, “James couldn’t possibly know enough about what women like to know how to sell jewels.”

“Yes, I don’t think he’s ever had a proper girlfriend to buy jewelry for,” Narcissa adds with a smirk.

“Ah, but there’s the catch. You may think it’s all about what women want. But does a man consult his girl when he’s out to buy her a ring?” James doesn’t give either woman a chance to respond before he answers for them. “Exactly. You’re not just looking at it from the angle of ‘what a woman wants.’ One has to consider the man who’s shopping for his girl, and that is where I come in.”

Moody is listening raptly to James’s argument, which seems like a good sign. James notices Andromeda and Narcissa share a nervous glance, and he knows his ideas are being received better than the women assumed.

“Potter brings up a good point,” Moody says. “Every other advertising company always focuses on the woman, but this has potential.”

“Can’t you see it now? We’d include the women in the slogan, of course: ‘Zabini’s Jewels, where dreams come true.’” James lifts his hands to outline an imaginary sign that bears his ideas.

“Please, you’ve never been in a relationship long enough to even contemplate any of that!” Narcissa smacks her hand on the table in annoyance. “How do you know what it’s like shopping as a man in love? You’d be an imposter!”

“Am I really an imposter if I’m simply waiting for the right woman to come along?” James raises his eyebrows to match the smooth sound of his voice.

“Says the guy who’s only rival for the one-night stand trophy is Sirius,” Andromeda says.

To be honest, that jab hurts. For years, James has had the image of ‘womanizer’ placed on his head, even since his Hogwarts days. Sure, he’s a flirt, but he’s definitely not the type of bloke to bring home a different woman every night.

“That’s not entirely true and you know it. I have fun, but not that much fun.”

“Prove it, then,” Narcissa crosses her arms in front of her chest in indignation.

“How?”

“Prove you’re capable of a serious relationship. That you can win a witch over and make her fall in love with you. Unless you don’t think you can handle anything more than taking a woman to bed,” Andromeda goads.

James is never one to back down from a challenge, but he worries the girls are doing this to throw him off his agenda. “I would gladly accept if this had anything to do with the Zabini pitch, but—”

“That’s an interesting offer,” Moody’s gruff voice interjects. All three look at him. “If you’re this cutthroat about winning a jewelry pitch, let’s have some fun with it. We’ve been invited to attend a gala that Zabini is hosting a week from Saturday. Find a woman and bring her as your date. If you can make her fall in love with you, you get the pitch. If you fail, the ladies win.”

“But how will you know he’s not paying the girl to fake it?” Narcissa pouts.

“I always know the truth,” Moody says. His glass eye is twitching in all directions as he stares at James with his good one.

Now, this is an interesting turn of events. James contemplates what Moody’s said. There has to be an easier way to shed the girls off his client, but his mind is coming up empty.

You did say you’d do anything earlier, didn’t you?

Yeah, he supposes he did.

“Alright, deal.”

“But we get to pick your lucky lady!” Andromeda interjects.

“What? No! I didn’t agree to that.”

“Oh, come on, it has to be someone completely neutral. We can’t have you calling up a friend and faking it, now can we?” Narcissa reasons.

Ugh, fuck them.

“I’ll allow it,” Moody says, as the girls begin scanning the room.

“Hmm, Cissy, who should we choose?”

“I don’t know, Andie, there are so many people here tonight. It’s bound to be tough. What about that one over there in the neon yellow dress with the black platform shoes?”

James groans. This is going to be a disaster.

“Or the overly eager woman by the bar in the too-tight green dress, downing her third martini of the night.” Andromeda smirks.

“Come on, ladies, let’s try and be fair here.” James makes the request, even though he’s not convinced they’ll listen.

“What about—” Narcissa begins to point out another woman, whom James is sure would never work, when Andromeda cuts her off.

“I’ve found her.”

Narcissa turns her head on a swivel, looking around with increased interest. “Who?”

“There, on the other end of the bar. Long auburn hair in the little black dress. She’s sipping on a cosmo.”

No fucking way.

James follows Andromeda’s eyeline until it falls on a very gorgeous, very familiar face. Lily Evans. His former Gryffindor schoolmate and long-time crush.

At first, James’s mind is screaming an adamant NO. That ship sailed during seventh year when he finally gave up his pursuit of Lily and settled with sixth year Hufflepuff Bridgette Carmicheal instead. It wasn’t until the end of term that he overheard Lily insisting that whatever feelings she thought she might have for him were gone.

‘He chose Bridgette, Marls. I strung him along for too long, and I lost my chance. I’m over it.’

Those words still sting as they hover in the back of his mind. James recalls breaking up with Bridgette within the week, hopeful that it wasn’t too late. But then Bridgette had taken the break-up horribly, and he knew going for Lily the next day wasn’t a good idea. Then graduation came and went, and he hasn’t seen her since.

Seeing her standing there now, his heart leaps into his throat. She’s just as beautiful as ever, and all those feelings he thinks he’s finally gotten over are back, like a tornado completely upending his life. This could be his chance—their chance—to finally make a go of things. The thoughts begin whirring in his mind of ways to win her over.

“Done.”

Before James realizes what he’s doing, he’s standing up, and his feet are carrying him over to where she’s sipping on her drink. She doesn’t see him coming.

“Evans,” he croons as he sidles up next to her.

Her body stiffens when she hears his voice. James hasn’t thought what her reaction might be upon seeing him for the first time in years. Well, it’s too late to back out now. I’ve got a pitch to win and a second shot with the girl of my dreams.

She turns around after a moment, her face impassive, but not unwelcoming.

“Potter.” She’s eyeing him up and down. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah, since when? Graduation?”

“Something like that,” she shrugs nonchalantly.

“What brings you to Abbott’s?” James would rather know how often she comes here, but he keeps that question to himself.

“It’s been a long week, and I needed a night out. You?”

“Same.” James contemplates what’s made this week long, and is about to ask when Lily continues without prompting.

“Though I forget how stuffy this place can be,” Lily sighs, “Marlene and Alice convinced me to come, but I can’t say I’m having much success in tonight’s pursuits. And I’m starting to think they’ve ditched me. Though, I suppose all’s fair in love and war when you enter the dating game. Don’t you agree?”

Her comment almost throws James off as he looks down at the hand holding her cosmopolitan. He breathes a sigh of relief and thanks Merlin that there’s no ring on her finger. So, she’s looking for a good time tonight, is she? Well, I can certainly show her a good time—and then some—if she’ll let me.

“Couldn’t agree more,” he says in an attempt to continue engaging her in conversation.

She makes the effort to look around the room. Now is his chance to make a move.

“You hungry?”

Lily observes him carefully. James can tell she’s closed off and knows he needs to reassure her that it’s innocent, for now…

“C’mon, Evans, it’s just dinner. Catching up can’t hurt, can it?” He pauses for a moment before making the split-second decision to add, “I’ve missed you.”

It’s true. Standing here with Lily now, James wonders how he coped over the past three years. He thought he’s been managing just fine, but her presence brings back everything he’s so desperately missed about her. James doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he sees her relax. Her eyebrows soften and the smallest smile plays at the corners of her lips.

She sets her almost empty glass down on the bar before sliding off her stool. “Well, Potter, how can I resist when you put it like that? Lead the way.”

James can’t help the grin that spreads on his face. He holds out his arm as Lily gingerly latches on. Her touch sends a tingle up his spine as they move toward the doors.

Before he forgets, James takes a quick glance back at Moody, Andromeda and Narcissa. He flashes a smirk that he hopes says ‘you’re going down’ before turning back to the beautiful woman on his arm. After ten years of pining, he’s finally got Lily Evans right where he’s always wanted her, and he’s determined not to ruin this second chance.

[spencerreidslove]

Bowling

A/N: This is part three in my Five First Dates Series.

Part one Part Two

————

“Are you just going to keep picking games you can beat me at?” Spencer asked as you pulled him into a building advertising bowling.

It was five days since your mini golfing date and both of you were free to go on another ‘friendship date’.

“How did you figure it out so soon?” You joked. This time Spencer paid for the shoes and the lane.

“Do you want to put the bumpers on?” You asked, only half joking.

“I might not be athleticly inclined, but I’m not that bad.” Spencer said.

“We have to enter names for ourselves.” You said, looking at the machine by the lane.

Before Spencer could react you typed in his name.

“The Mad Doctor?” He asked, looking up at the scoreboard.

“Well, mad scientist wouldn’t really have worked, and Needs a Haircut is kinda mean.” You said.

Spencer ran a hand through his hair and then gently pushed you out of the way. He stood over the machine for a moment before stepping away.

“Going to Lose? You could’ve done better than that.” You said looking at the scoreboard. Spencer shrugged. He turned away from you and grabbed his bowling ball.

Spencer sent it down the lane, striking a dramatic pose. He held the pose and then fell backwards. You laughed, expecting him to not have got that good of a shot, but were surprised when he got a strike.

“Are you secretly good at bowling?” You asked, waiting for the pins to be replaced.

“No one ever asked, so it technically wasn’t a secret.” Spencer said.

You took your bowling ball and aimed at the newly formed pins. Gutter ball.

“Warm up throw.” You said, waiting for your ball to be returned. You threw your ball again, this time knocking 7 pins off.

Spencer took his second turn, getting another strike. You stared at him, utterly confused by the skill he was showing.

“It’s all in the wrist, Y/N, all in the wrist.” Spencer said.

This time you managed to get a couple of pins on the first hit, but missing the rest on the second time around.

“What the hell?” You said.

Spencer then hit another strike with ease and turned back to you. “I’m telling you, it’s in the wrist.” He said.

This frame, you managed to get a spare, to which Spencer started clapping.

“That’s good!” He said.

“Don’t give me your pity claps.” You joked.

At the end of the game, you lost spectacularly. Spencer got a strike on nearly every single frame except for three.

“Does you winning make up for mini-golfing?” You asked as you stepped out of the building.

“Oh yes, now we’re even.” Spencer said.

You shivered and rubbed your arms as you walked towards the subway station.

“Here.” Spencer said. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to you.

“Won’t you be cold?” You asked, taking the jacket anyway.

“I’ll be fine.” Spencer said.

The two of you stepped down into the subway station. It was late and other than you, there was only four other people. When your train pulled up, you two ended up being the only two in your car.

You sat for a few minutes before standing up.

“What’re you doing?” Spencer asked.

“Surfing.” You said. You stood in the middle of the train, with your arms and legs stood like you were on a surfboard.

“That’s not very safe.” Spencer said. He stood up and grabbed the pole by you.

“But it’s fun.” You said. “C’mon.”

“No, I am not going to ‘surf’, it’s a moving train!” Spencer said, ever the stickler for safety.

“Fine. But you’re missing all the fun.” You said.

The train suddenly lurched forward and you started falling forward. Spencer caught you, and you were suddenly very close. The subway stopped and you cleared your throat.

“I-uh-this is my stop.” You whispered. You didn’t know why you were whispering.

“Yeah, goodnight, Y/N.” Spencer also whispered.

Spencer let go of your arms and you left him there to ride one more stop.

As you walked the rest of the way home, you realized that you still had Spencer’s coat on. A wind blew and you snuggled down deeper into it.

The coat was warm, and smelled like Spencer. Like home.

Oh I am so screwed. You thought as you stepped into your building.

Tags!

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @shadow-of-wonder

[noladyme]

xo - Red (A Clark Kent/Superman oneshot)

Just a really funny; warm; kind; built like an Olympic athlete, with perfect lips friend? Tag-list: @wolf-lover-bookdragon @wonderlandfandomkingdom​

TW: Fluff. So much fluff. Explosions.

Fifth date. Things were supposed to happen, right? I mean, at least a kiss; other than a peck on the cheek. But he was a friggin’ gentleman; which I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed about; as it made it very difficult to get to the fun part of our relationship. Not that we didn’t have fun, mind you. Clark had an uncanny way of turning my frown upside down.

Ever since I’d run in to him – literally – at that coffeeshop a few months ago. I had left home early, so I wouldn’t be late for my first day at my new job, at the elementary school. I’d been so nervous about it; I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until 3 am; and was now battling exhaustion, nerves, and the fact that my new red shoes were really uncomfortable – all at the same time. I’d ordered a large black coffee; extra strong; and was on my way out the door – the sun in my eyes – when I tripped on the steps; my drink splashing out of the cup.

Suddenly; two strong hands were grabbing my shoulders; and pulling me up to stand. “Are you ok?”, a warm voice said. I looked up, and found two friendly blue eyes looking me over. “Yes, thank you”, I smiled; before noticing the large brown stain on the man’s white shirt. “Oh, crap. I am so sorry!”. He looked down himself; and smiled. “It’s fine. White isn’t my color anyway”. I laughed. “Still, I’m so sorry. Didn’t I burn you?”. The coffee had been scolding; I knew. He smirked. “I’m thick skinned”, he insisted.

He was still holding on to me; and I felt a warmth spreading in my stomach; making me short of breath. “Miss?”. His eyes suddenly looked worried. “Are you sure you’re ok?”. I smiled. “Yes, absolutely. It’s just been… a morning”. He chuckled. “Can I buy you a new cup of coffee?” I simultaneously nodded and shook my head. “Yes… no… I mean, I should buy you one; as an apology”.

He removed his hands from my shoulders; leaving me to stand on my own. “No need for an apology”, he smiled. “But I’ll take the coffee”.

We’d spent 10 minutes sipping at our hot drinks – for which he’d insisted to pay – and talking about what we did for work, and what our favorite movies were; having noticed an advertisement for some superhero movie on a passing bus. Apparently Clark wasn’t a fan of superheroes; but found it hilarious that I loved The Wizard of Oz – being from Kansas himself. Then; Clark had asked for my number, and I’d given it to him. He shook my hand, and we’d said goodbye.

The next afternoon; he’d called me, and we’d gone to see a movie – one about aliens instead of superheroes. He’d still been frowning all the way through it. “It was just really… unrealistic”, he said afterwards over a beer at a local bar near my apartment. He walked me home, declining my offer to come up for coffee; and had given me a short hug, before saying goodbye.

The next time has been a trip to an apple picking farm. “You can take the boy out of Kansas…”, I’d chuckled, as he’d carried a bushel of Granny Smith’s back to his car. “I just really like pie”, he’d smiled. He’d driven me home; and on the way there, told me about his moms pies; and how it was his favorite thing in the world – next to sweet potato fries. When he dropped me off; he leaned in, and kissed my cheek. “Goodnight”, he’d whispered; and I’d bit my lip – and hoped for more. More didn’t happen.

Then there was the quick cup of coffee on both our lunchbreaks; where I’d told him about how I’d sprained my ankle on roller-skates – 3 times in the same amount of years. He’d snorted a laugh. “Well you are kind of clumsy”, he’d said, and removed a strand of hair from my face; putting it behind my ear – before running off for a sudden work emergency.

And lastly; the roller-skating rink. Because I insisted. And he said he couldn’t say no to me. That night, he’d held my hand as we went about the floor; and grabbed my waist several times, as I was about to fall. “Careful, slick”, he’d said. “Oh, is that my nickname now?”, I’d chuckled. “No. I think I’ll call you Red. From those godawful shoes you were wearing when I met you”. It was another kiss on the cheek; and a hug that lingered, and made my knees weak. And then just… goodnight.

So yes. I was just about desperate to kiss the man. He was gorgeous; which at times had made me feel insufficient and a bit self-conscious – but then there was the way he looked at me. His eyes would light up as I talked; as if I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. Even when our conversation was about cereal, or how one of the kids at my school had put bead up his nose. It was like his eyes drew me in; and then – as my breath would hitch, and I’d part my lips – he’d pull back as if nothing had happened.

I couldn’t help but ask myself; does he just want to be my friend? My really funny; warm; kind; built like an Olympic athlete, with perfect lips friend? I’d decided that I needed clarity on where we were going with our relationship – even if that thought did make me feel like I was living in a sad rom-com, where everyone was always talking about their feelings.

Tonight, it was dinner. Nothing fancy, just a steakhouse I’d suggested. If Clark turned out to just be in it for the apple picking and coffee; then at least I could drown my sorrows in a medium rare steak, with enough bearnaise-sauce to drown a small elephant.

—

Putting on my favorite jeans, black pumps, and a snug top; I waited for the call to let me know Clark was by the door on the street. He’d never been inside my apartment; and didn’t seem very interested in it either. This isn’t real, I told myself to guard my feelings against the inevitable rejection I’d have to face that evening. We’ll eat, laugh; and he’ll walk me home – and then tell me that he’s got a wife and three kids in Smallville, waiting for him to come home for game-night.

A text message made my phone light up. Hey Red. I’m late. So sorry. Be there as soon as possible. – C

Great. That gave me even more time to just hang out… and be anxious.

No worries, Kansas. See you. xo – R Send… Crap, why did I write xo? What am I; a teenager?

I sat down on my couch. Deciding I needed to pass the time doing something other than stare at the wall; I turned on the television. Landing on the news; I dropped the remote.

In Stockholm, Sweden, the building of a new sky-scraper in an old neighborhood; had made a nearby building begin to crack in the foundation. The old residential was quickly giving in; and families were being evacuated from their homes. There were firetrucks spraying water at the structure, to avoid flames from any electrical fires.

Though it was a terrible situation for those families; I was confused as to why one building falling apart half way around the world, was a breaking news story here. That was until I saw a figure at the bottom of the screen; seemingly supporting the weight of the building on his shoulders. Oh, right! That guy! The Superdude…, I chuckled to myself; and went to see if Clark had texted me back yet.

Nothing. It was probably the xo-thing. He didn’t know how to reply to that.

The news story ended when cameras filmed Superman handing a shaking and wet puppy to a little girl; who kissed his cheek in thanks. I always found it kind of neat, that the flying caped man managed to know where every camera was; so that anyone watching would find it difficult to make out his features. From what I could see; he was sort of cute. If Clark doesn’t work out; I could always throw myself of a building; and have that guy catch me. It must be lonely in that fortress of solitude; maybe he’d like some company.

A text. Outside in 5. Can’t wait to see you. xo – C

xo. He’d written xo. Right. Big girl pants on, and go talk to him.

—

Outside the door of my building stood Clark; a smile the size of the sun plastered across his face. My heart jumped. He opened his arms; and took me in for a hug.

“Hi, Red”, he breathed. “I’m so sorry I’m late. It was a work emergency”. “It’s fine”, I said and looked up at him; and opened my mouth to say something more – until I noticed something strange.

“Clark?”, I said. He was still holding on to me. “Yeah?”. “This is going to sound weird, but… why do you smell like wet dog?”.

He pulled back. “Yeah… I was doing a story at an animal shelter”, he said. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let’s go!”, he said, and took my hand.

It was a beautiful night; so we decided to skip the cab, and walk the few miles to the restaurant. We walked down the street, hand in hand. It wasn’t the first time we’d held hands; but then it was because he was trying to keep me from falling. This was different. It wasn’t strange; but warm… familiar. I swallowed hard. “I want to talk to you about something, Kansas”, I said. He looked down. “You don’t want to do that at the restaurant?”, he said with a strained voice. “No, I think I need to do it now”, I answered. He nodded. “Ok. Do you want to sit down?”, he asked; and gestured at a bench on a playground we were passing.

Once seated; I let go of Clarks hand. “What’s up, Red?”, he asked earnestly. “You seem… tense”. He laughed nervously. I smiled. “I like you, Clark. A lot”, I said. “I like you too. A lot”, he smiled. I matched his nervous laughter. “It’s just… lately, I’ve been thinking. About us… and what we are”. He looked down. “Yeah, I figured we’d get to this at some point”. I nodded. “We have fun”, I said. “Like friends. But I don’t know if we both feel like this is more than that. Friendship, I mean”. He sighed. “Right. No, I get it”, he said. “You’re new in the city, and shouldn’t be settling down with anyone serious”.

I looked at him confusedly. “I’m not sure I follow”, I smiled. He took my hand. “You’re an amazing woman, Red”, he said “And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. But maybe you’re right, and this is a good time to call it quits. If that’s what you want”. My heart fell into my stomach. “Is that what you want?”, I asked timidly. “I want you to be happy”, he said, smiling sadly. “With or without me in your life. I’d just hoped I’d have a few more dates before you came to your senses about me”.

I frowned. “Clark… you need to be clear with me here”, I said. “Are you breaking it off with me?”. He looked at me with a frown on his face. “I thought you were breaking up with me…”, he said. “You suggested that restaurant; and I thought you wanted to be in public when you did it”. I laughed. “No. I just… really like steak”, I smiled.

He exhaled with relief. “Good. Because I was lying. I really don’t want you to be happy without me…”, he said. “I mean… crap… I want you to be happy; I’d just really like to be a part of it. If you’ll have me”. I bit my lip and nodded. “I’d like that”, I said. “I thought you saw me as a friend because… you haven’t…”. I couldn’t finish the sentence. He took my hand, and tried to meet my gaze. “What? Tell me”, he said. I took a deep breath. “You haven’t kissed me”, I said; meeting his eyes for a second; before looking down in embarrassment.

He put his hand under my chin, and raised it to finally meet my eyes for real. “Red, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you spilled scorching hot coffee on my least favorite shirt”, he smiled. “I was just waiting for the right time, and…”. He exhaled and took my other hand; playing with my fingers.

“My life is… complicated. The work I do; sometimes it’s dangerous”, he said. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You write fluff pieces for The Daily Planet”, I chuckled. “That too…”, he muttered and looked down.

I smiled; wanting to ease the tension. “You know, I was watching a news story while I was waiting for you”, I said. He looked up at me with questioning eyes. “Yeah?”. I chuckled. “It was about that Superman guy. He was helping some people; in Sweden I think”, I said. “I was telling myself; that if you didn’t want to see me anymore; I could always just… throw myself of a building, and he’d rescue me. Then I could hook up with him”. He laughed nervously. “What? Like a rebound?”. “More like a… third choice. If you didn’t work out”. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Only third?”, he said. I scoffed. “Have you seen Aquaman? I mean, come on!”, I grinned.

His lips tightened, and he stifled a laughter. “So… if Superman is third… and… Aquaman…”, he raised an eyebrow at me, “… is second. What does that make me?”. I sighed. “The guy I’ve been waiting months to kiss”.

He looked deep into my eyes; and my breath hitched. He put his hand on my cheek; and he leaned in close to me, stroking my temple with his thumb I brushed my nose against his; and closed my eyes, letting my lips part.

Suddenly; he pulled back. “Clark?”, I asked. His eyes were scanning the area; before they met mine again – alarmed. “Red, go home.” “What’s wrong?”, I said. “Did I say something?”.

He stood up and began backing away; his eyes again searching his surroundings. “Listen, go straight home. Don’t stop for anything. I’ll… I’ll call you when I can”. He ran around a corner, and was gone. I heard a strange woosh, and a stray cat ran from the alley he’d gone in to.

I felt suddenly cold. This was the weirdest date I’d ever had; and it hadn’t even really started. Then there was the fact that the guy I was falling head over heels for, finally said he care about me too – and then just… left. That’s it, I laughed to myself. I’m finding a really high building to jump off.

I began walking home. Slowly. I didn’t want Clark to have the pleasure of getting me to do what he wanted me to. Jerk. Not a jerk. Crap; I really like him. More than like. This is real.

I heard a crash, and then a screech; like metal being torn apart. I felt a warm gust of wind, forceful enough to make me stumble. I looked up. Was that seriously a bus flying through the air?

Another crash; this one even closer. I fell to the ground; and was scrambling to get up, when I saw a minivan sliding on its roof towards me. I got on my feet, and bean running out of the way; when something red and blue slammed into the minivan; making it alter its course. Was that?…

I ran towards my block. Red, go home. I’m going; but where are you Clark? Are you ok?

I kept running; fishing my phone out of my pocket, and dialing Clarks number. It kept ringing, but went to voicemail. Hey. This is Clark Kent. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you… beep. Come on, Clark. I need to know you’re ok!

I redialed. Suddenly I heard a phone ringing near me. I looked into a bush; and saw… Clarks jacket? His phone was ringing in his pocket. 2 missed calls from Red – heart emoji. Damn it, Kansas. If I wasn’t so pissed at you; I might think this was really sweet. Where are you?

Screeching… a car landed on the ground 10 feet from me; the force of it throwing me to the ground again. I got up slowly; rattled from the shock.

I began running again; getting closer to my block.

Suddenly; a tank truck was blocking my path; crashing into a bus-shed. My heart was in my throat, and my chest hurt from having run so fast. I tried turning around, but a bus had crashed into an RV, blocking my path in both directions. I was trapped.

I looked up. The sky was covered in smoke from the many burning vehicles around me. The sound of a large crash made me look towards the truck. Something made the vehicle fall onto its side, and slide towards me with such speed that the shock of it made me fall.

I looked back – there was nowhere to run. In three seconds, I would be smashed between the truck and the bus.

Three… Oh God…

Two… Clark, where are you?

One.

A gush of wind; and I flew in to the air. No… I didn’t fly; I was lifted. My feet were dangling in the air; and one of my shoes fell of, landing on the ground hundreds of feet below me. Someone was holding on to me; his strong arms around my waist; and my chest pressed to his – which was adorned with a red S on a yellow background. What?

I let out a terrified whimper. “It’s ok. I’ve got you”, a warm voice said. I looked up into my saviors face. “Clark?”, I gasped. “Hi”, he said with a crooked smile. I opened my mouth to say something. “Don’t speak…”, he said. “The air is kind of thin up here”.

I looked down; and realizing how far up in the air we were, I panicked. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let out a weak squeal. “It’s ok, Red”, he chuckled. “I won’t let you fall”.

He set me down on the top of a building a few miles from the explosions. Once on stable ground, he held on to me for a second; making sure my legs would carry me. I stepped backwards, holding my hand up in front of me. “Y-you…”, I stuttered. He looked at me apologetically. “I know. I should have told you. It’s just… complicated”. He tried to smile.

I stumbled; and fell to my bottom. He took a tentative step forward. “I know. I get it. You’re scared”, he said. I shook my head. “No… it’s… you!”, I said.

He reached his hand out to me. “Please, let me help you up”. I gave him my hand; and he gently raised me to my feet. “Are you ok?”, he smiled. I simultaneously shook my head and nodded. “Yes?”. It was almost a question. He sniggered.

Suddenly I began laughing – the ridiculousness of the situation too comical. “I was supposed to fall off a building; not land on it”, I chuckled. He began laughing with me. “Yeah, I must have gotten those two mixed up”, he said. “It’s like I’ve said; I can’t say no to you”.

I sighed, and gently laid a hand on the S on his chest. “So… what now?”, I asked. He smiled. “I really want to continue what we started on that bench”. I chuckled and bit my lip. “Ok”.

He slid his arms around me – his tall and broad frame almost enveloping me – and I melted into his arms. His face came close to mine; and the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes; where his striking blue ones, boring deep into me.

He tensed up; and when I opened my eyes again, he was frowning, and turning his head, as if listening.

“I’m so sorry, Red; but I have to finish this”, he said. Another gush of wind; and he was gone. “Seriously?!”, I yelled after him.

—

I made my way down the skyscraper Clark had left me on; where I was met by the sirens of police cars, and people pointing at the sky. I was out of danger – I knew – but no less rattled. I was wearing a pump on one foot, and limping barefoot on the other; until I simply gave up; and took off the shoe – throwing it in a trashcan.

I walked all the way home; confused and dizzy. On my block, people were standing in the streets, murmuring to each other; and looking at the fires in the distance. It was as if there was line drawn through the city. On one side; havoc, and crashed cars – on the other, where I was… nothing. It was as if nothing had been touched.

One of my neighbors tried to stop me in the doorway; noticing the shell-shocked look on my face, and my bare feet. “Were you in that? Are you ok”, he asked. I shook my head. “I’m fine. It’s nothing”, I smiled.

I stumbled into my apartment; threw my jacket on the floor, and grabbed a beer from the fridge – plopping down on the couch.

Well… that was something…

Without anything else to do, I took a large swig of my beer; and turned on the television.

“… explosions in downtown Metropolis this evening; as terrorists connected to the incarcerated Lex Luthor, placed explosives on multiple vehicles, throughout the city…”

Footage of explosions, and scenes of police cars and firetrucks racing down the streets.

“… no casualties, due to the quick intervention of the group calling themselves The Justice League…”

A man who looked like Robocop, pointed at the camera, and the screen blurred. There was a flash of red; and just after it, footage of a group of men captured by a shiny lasso, held by a woman dressed like a Greek goddess. A burning building was drowned in water; and a smirking longhaired man – still hot… – was yelling booyah’s at it.

“… headed by the Batman; and Metropolis’ own Superman…”

I saw the Gotham Knight shaking hands with…

It was Clark. It was always him.

There was a knock at my door. When I opened it Clark stood outside. Not red and blue Superman – just my Clark; dressed in jeans; a plaid flannel; and wearing his glasses.

“Hi”, he said. “Hi”, I answered. “I brought you something”. He pulled out my black pump; the one I had dropped from the air. I chuckled. “Great, now I just need the other one”. He pulled out the other one as well. “It might smell a little. It was laying in a trashcan”. I took the shoes from his hands, and half smiled at him. “I have something of yours as well”, I said, and gave him back his phone, from my jacket on the floor. “Thanks”, he said. “The suit doesn’t really have pockets”.

He clenched his jaw. “Can I come in?”, he asked. I stepped aside, and he walked into my combined kitchen/living room. “You have a nice place”, he smiled. “Thanks”, I said quietly; as I closed the door behind him. His large frame seemed to fill the entire space. “Do you want a beer?”, I asked. He looked at me warmly. “Yeah, sure”. I handed him a cold one. “You can sit down”, I said. “Unless… you pulled a muscle flying me through the sky”.

He chuckled at me, and sat down on my couch. “No, I’m fine”, he smiled. I raised a brow; and sat down on the couch with him – leaving some space between us. “Right; you can lift buildings and stuff like that”, I muttered.

He exhaled, and took a swig of his beer. “Yeah… about that”, he began. “I was going to tell you”. “Why?”, I muttered. “It seems like something pretty big. I get why you’d want to keep it private. Have a… secret identity”.

He frowned. “I wanted to tell you, because I care about you. And I want you to be a part of my life… all of it”. I met his eyes. “Really”. I bit my lip. “You… care”, I said. He reached for my hand; and I let him take it. Our fingers linked into each other. “You’re funny; smart; passionate”, he said. “And you’re beautiful”.

I scrunched up my face in embarrassment. “Ok, now I’m uncomfortable”. “Why?, he said, and stroked my cheek; moving closer to me on the couch. I sighed. “Because you’re… you. The Superdude. You can see every flaw…”. “There isn’t a flaw on your body”, he smiled. I scoffed at him. “I’m serious! Every little thing… the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating… how your one hand is a little bit smaller than the other… that beauty-mark on your back…”. “How did you know about that?”, I interrupted. He smiled embarrassedly. “That loose fitting top you wore on our last date. The dark blue one”, he muttered. “I love all of it”. I half-smiled. “There’s actually two of them… the beauty-marks”, I said. “I didn’t want you to think I was creepy for looking”, he smirked.

“You love it?”, I mumbled. He swallowed. “Yeah, Red”, he said. “I mean… I’ve fallen hard for you”. I giggled nervously. “So, this is real…”, I muttered. “I want it to be”, he smiled. “Do you?”. I nodded, and looked at him through my lashes. “Yeah, I do”, I said.

He let out a relieved sigh, and chuckled “Good… Are you sure?”, he smirked. “I could introduce you to Arthur”. I frowned. “Arthur?”, I sneered. “In that case, never mind!”.

We laughed together; before Clarks face became apprehensive. “And…”, he couldn’t form the words. “Your other side?”, I said. He shook his head. “It’s not my other side. It’s me. It’s who I am”.

I squeezed his hand gently, and placed it on my knee. “I fell for you, without knowing everything you were”, I said. “What I know now… just makes you… better”. His eyes lit up. “Really?”, he half-whispered. “Yeah”, I smirked. “Besides; I kind of like how the suit makes your butt look”.

He raised his brows at me and laughed – putting his free hand to my cheek, and stroking my temple. “Oh!”, he said. “Well… yours isn’t half bad either”. I frowned. “Did you x-ray my pants?”, I asked; narrowing my eyes at him. He tightened his lips. “Not yet… do you want me to? I mean… I’m up for it”, he smiled, and moved his other hand up my thigh.

I chuckled; and put my hand on his cheek; pulling him closer. “Let’s do the kissing part first – we can get to what’s in my pants later”, I smirked. “Unless, of course, you have another superhero emergency you need to tend to".

He closed his eyes and listened; then opened them again. “Nah, we’re good”, he smiled; and his lips met mine.

He tasted like apple pie and sunshine.

—

[izzielizzie]

Now I’ve Seen You I’ve Seen It All Chapter One

okay so this ask inspired me so am i writing a ten chapter nateywn parent trap au? yes. Is the first chapter under the cut? also yes 

“Okay honey,” Bronwyn Rojas says as she puts her hands on her daughter Ellen’s shoulders. “You’ve got everything you need right?”

Ellen nods.

“Toothbrush?”

Ellen nods again.

“All your clothes? Shampoo? Hair brush? Retainers?” 

Ellen nods again, four times, and wiggles a little in her mother’s grip. Twelve year old Ellen Rojas has never spent more than a week out of her mother’s sights, and this two month camp is testing both of them.

Bronwyn looks like she’s about to cry. “Are you sure you don’t want me to look over your things one more time?”

Ellen sighs and considers the best way to tell her mother it is time for her to leave. Thankfully she doesn’t have to. A slender woman with dark hair and expressive amber eyes practically materializes in front of Ellen and Bronwyn. Maeve Santos.

Maeve, with her messy bun, face full of freckles, tattered Hodges Camp t-shirt, and denim shorts, looks absolutely nothing like her older sister Bronwyn. Until further examination. They carry themselves the same way, like they belong anywhere they happen to be, and their smiles are the same. It’s hard to tell since Bronwyn’s face is all lines and hardness, and Maeve’s is soft and open. But the smiles, well, they’re identical.

“Hey Bron,” Maeve says. She pulls her sister into a hug, taking care not to wrinkle Bronwyn’s suit. Bronwyn pats her sister’s back, her way of saying “okay enough hugging”. Maeve pulls away with a grin, and swings Ellen up into her arms. Maeve - and her husband Luis - don’t have any kids, so all their attention is directed to Ellen and their nephews on Luis’s side. But mostly Ellen. Ellen hugs her back with all her might.

“Hi Aunt Maeve,” Ellen says.

“Hey Ellen, ready for some fun!”

Ellen giggles and looks around the camp over her aunt’s shoulder. It’s a large camp, with seven cabins for campers: three for girls on one side of the path and three for boys on the other. The seventh can be seen peeking over the trees where the forest meets the large lake (Lake Hodges, where Aunt Maeve got the name for the camp). There’s a large center cabin, fittingly named the Big Cabin meals are served, the counselors congregate during off times, and one room is used as a games room, where Ellen knows air hockey tables and pool tables and foosball tables have been set up. Farther along the path is the arts and crafts cabin, then the nurse’s cabin. The grand finale before the dock and boat house is a large amphitheatre, where plays and concerts are held. 

Ellen’s never really seen the camp, not really, but she’s heard enough about it from her Aunt Maeve - the founder/head - to feel as if she’s greeting an old friend, the musky smells and bird chirps as familiar to Ellen as the brick buildings and sound of honking cars in New Haven is.

“More than ready,” Ellen assures her aunt. Maeve grins at her. 

“That’s my girl - whoa be careful!”

The last warning isn’t for Ellen, but for the person who swings Ellen high up into the air out of her aunt’s arms. She doesn’t even have to look to know it’s Uncle Luis. Ellen turns the moment she’s on solid ground to give her uncle a hug. Bronwyn often compares Luis to a puppy: energetic, over joyous, and incredibly good at snuggling. She’s not wrong.

“Hey Bronwyn,” Luis says, hugging his sister in law. He doesn’t mind her suit. Bronwyn hugs him back for a moment before readjusting her jacket and looking around helplessly. 

“Are we sure this is a good idea? Maybe Ellen’s too young.”

“Mom, you said I could come when I turned twelve,” Ellen protests, trying very hard not to stomp her foot. It wouldn’t be proving her point.

“I know but-” Bronwyn waves her arms around. 

“We’re here, don't forget,” Maeve says.

“No offence Maeve but you left Ellen in a parking lot.” 

Maeve’s smile becomes a little strained. “That was ten years ago.”

“Still!”

Maeve sighs. “Cooper and Kris are here. Who’s more responsible than Cooper and Kris?”

This seems to calm Ellen’s mom. “Okay, okay, you’re right. That’s true. Alright then, Ellen darling, I think it’s time for me to go.”

If Maeve is hurt that Bronwyn trusts Cooper and Kris Becker-Clay more than her own sister, she doesn’t show it. She looks over Bronwyn’s shoulder as if looking for something. “Okay Bron you’ve got a plane to catch right?”

“Right, right okay.” Bronwyn reaches forward and pulls Ellen out of Luis’s arms, squeezing her tight. “Be good okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay. I will.” Ellen hugs her mother back until Maeve gently disentangles them. With a last kiss on Maeve’s cheek and on Ellen’s forehead, Bronwyn heads back over to her car, pulling away with a wave for the family she knows is watching. 

“Well Ellen darling, excited for camp?” Maeve asks as she takes Ellen’s hand, picking up her oversized duffle with the other hand, which she expertly tosses to her husband. He catches it. Ellen loves watching her aunt and uncle work together, since it’s always been her and her mother. Ellen’s never seen two adults who just fit. 

The trio don’t get far before a motorcycle comes roaring up the drive. They all turn to see what’s happening as a girl expertly jumps off the back of the motorcycle. She’s wearing white shorts and a black leather motorcycle jacket that matches the jacket of the man on the motorcycle. The girl pulls off her helmet to reveal long black hair. 

Maeve grins. “You two stay here, I’ll be right back.” Maeve scurries away to the biker before Luis and Ellen can follow. 

“What’s happening Uncle Luis?” Ellen asks, sliding her hand into her uncle’s hand. 

“No clue kiddo,” Luis answers, but based on the look on his face, he does indeed know. 

They watch as Maeve talks to the man on the motorcycle. Ellen’s too far away to see who he is, and before she can get a closer look he’s waving at the girl and backing down the path to the main road. Maeve and the girl are standing together. They watch the motorcycle until it’s out of sight. Maeve takes the girl’s hand, and the way she’s looking at her sends a flash of white hot jealousy through Ellen. That’s the way Maeve looks at her.

Maeve smiles when they approach Luis and Ellen. “Ali, this is my husband Luis.”

“Hey Ali,” Luis says.

“And this is my niece Ellen Rojas. Ellen, this is Ali Macauley.” 

What a stupid name Ellen almost says. Instead she just grunts. She’s not quite sure why, but she doesn’t like this girl in her Guinness band t-shirt and tattered shorts and red flip flops that - ugh - look a lot like Ellen’s. Ali’s glaring right back at Ellen. Clearly, she doesn’t like her either. 

“Wow, you guys look nearly identical,” Luis says as he looks between his niece and the newcomer with her oversized backpack.

“No we don’t,” Ali says dryly.

“Oh I agree,” Ellen says. “I would never wear a shirt advertising that tacky band.”

“Ellen,” Maeve says in her warning voice.

“At least I don’t dress like the next queen of England.”

Ellen huffs and looks down at her pressed skirt and matching jacket. Her mother picked it for her.

“Oh you wish you were the queen of En-”

“Okay how about cabin assignments!” Maeve says brightly. Ali looks up at Maeve like she’s the queen, and Ellen’s ready to sock her in the nose. 

Maeve looks down at her clipboard as if she can sense Ellen’s thoughts. “You’re both in cabin one. Fun!”

“No it’s not,” Ali mumbles. 

Maeve ignores her and takes her hand instead. “Okay, let’s get you to your cabin.” Maeve takes Ellen’s hand after tucking her clipboard under her arm, and kisses her husband’s cheek before setting off, chatting about the camp as she goes. 

“You’ve met Luis of course, he’s a chef in New York and he’s in charge of cooking and also outdoor activities like hikes and stuff like that. And our head of arts and crafts is Addy Prentiss, she’s a teacher and she and her wife Keely live in London, where Keely is a fashion designer or something like that I never understand. Cooper Becker-Clay - you probably know him from the Padres - he’s in charge of sports. His husband Kris is our onsite medic.” Maeve pauses to push open the cabin door. “And Knox Myers does all the theatre and music stuff - he’s a Broadway director. Phoebe Myers, his wife, is our counselor. Need anything, go to her.”

Ellen knows all of this, since the people Aunt Maeve is talking about have been in Ellen’s life since she was a baby, so this is clearly for Ali. This annoys Ellen more, since she wanted to tell Aunt Maeve about the boy she thought she was in love with who turned out to not be in love with her. Aunt Maeve is the kind of aunt who understands about confusing things like the heart. 

“Okay girls. Looks like you’re the first in here. Pick a bunk.”

“Top,” Ali says right as Ellen says the same thing. Both girls look at each other in surprise and scramble for the ladder. 

“Whoa, whoa, girls slow down!” Maeve calls as both girls try to climb up the ladder at the same time. Ali beats Ellen, who’s slowed by the skirt. Ali’s long hair gets in her way, so Ellen uses that chance to climb up the side of the ladder like she does on the fire escape of her building. She’s nearly at the top when she feels hands clamp around her waist and pull her off. 

“Aunt Maeve!” Ellen protests as she’s placed on solid ground. She watches as Maeve pulls Ali off the ladder too. 

“Don’t ‘Aunt Maeve’ me. Honestly what’s gotten into you two?”

“It’s her fault,” Ali says stubbornly, pointing at Ellen. 

“She’s the one who cheated!”

“How did I cheat Ellen?”

“You’re not wearing a skirt.”

Ali scoffs. 

“Both of you two stop it right now. Ali, you take that bunk -”

“Hey!” Ellen protests as Ali does a little happy hop.

“And Ellen, you take the one on the other wall.”

Ellen is in shock. Aunt Maeve has never ever chosen someone over her. Not even the time her cousin Matias wanted the last ice cream at his own birthday party and Maeve talked circles around him until he was so confused he forgot about the dessert. 

“Fine,” Ellen sighs as she crosses the wooden cabin to the bunk identical to the one Ali is triumphantly perched on.

“Good. Now let’s hope you two get along better in the morning.”

Unfortunately, that does not happen. 

The next morning, Ellen enters the Big Cabin with Aunt Maeve and Uncle Luis’s latest foster child, named Nick. Ellen and Nick get along fabulously, something that pleases her aunt and uncle to no end. Ali stalks in after her. Ellen noticed last night that Ali prefers to be alone. She refused to join in on the game of go fish their cabin mates were playing, and she ignored all talk about the cute boys at the camp and past crushes.

“I’m telling you Nick, she’s so stuck up. Like she’s too good for us or something,” Ellen says, continuing her conversation even though Ali is right behind her. 

“Maybe she’s just shy,” Nick says. Even though he has no blood relation to any of Ellen’s family members he still looks vaguely like Luis with his good looks and deep brown eyes.

Ellen scoffs. “She wasn’t shy when she stole my aunt.”

“Maeve isn’t stolen.”

“Right,” Ellen says skeptically as she hands Nick a tray. They’re entering the food line, and she graciously lets Nick before her. She ends up next to Ali, who’s glaring at Ellen. “Good morning sunshine,'' Ellen says pleasantly.

Ali glares harder as she takes a tray from the pile.

“Not a morning person huh?” Ellen asks.

“Say another word and I’ll knock your teeth out,” Ali threatens.

“Scary,” Ellen says dryly as they head down the line. She hesitates in front of the last pancake, weighing the pros and cons of grabbing it when Ali speaks up.

“Are you gonna stand there or are you gonna grab that?” She’s already reaching for the pancake in question.

“I was going to grab it,” Ellen lies, stabbing it with a fork as Ali does the same thing. They engage in a sort of food based tug-of-war. “Let go!”

“You let go!”

“I saw it first!”

“You were just mouth breathing on it!”

They both tug hard, and the pancakes crumble into two pieces. The momentum sends them flying. Ali crashes to the floor and Ellen stumbles back into Nick, who steadies her. 

“What kind of loser can’t keep their balance?” Ellen asks.

“Ellen, stop,” Luis says emerging from the kitchen. He’s looking half amused and half annoyed. “Ali, you okay?”

“Fine,” Ali snaps. “But your niece is annoying.”

Luis ignores her, and Nick gently tugs Ellen away.

Ellen sulks all the way to the crafts barn, where Addy Prentiss in all her pink haired glory is perched on a table in a pair of faded denim overalls. She hops off the table when the group arrives. 

“Alright guys, I thought we could start with bracelets today,” Addy says with her slight British accent, winking at Ellen, who glows. “So, find a table y’all, and let’s see what bracelets you come up with!”

Addy circles the room, and Ellen chooses a table with Cosette Myers, Nick, and - ugh - Ali. Ali pointedly ignores her, and Ellen choses to do the same, chatting with Cosette about the last musical her father Knox took her to. Ellen reaches for a bead at the same time as Ali, and their hands collide.

“Can you move?” Ali asks.

“You move!” Ellen protests.

“I just want a bead.”

“Then wait.”

“Why don’t you wait, princess?”

“Because I was first.”

Both girls glare at each other for a moment before reaching for the beads again, knocking into the container and sending the beads flying over the table and floor. Cosette and Nick jump back. Addy choses this moment to approach this table.

“Are you two kidding me?” she asks, irritated.

“It's Ellen's fault!”

“It was not Aunt Addy, it was Ali!”

Addy looks between the identical looking girls and huffs. “Pick them up.”

“What?” Ellen asks.

“El, you heard me.”

Ellen glares halfheartedly at Ali as she sinks to the floor to pick up the scattered pea sized beads.

Cosette and Nick slide to the floor to help as Ali starts on her side of the table.

“She’s a monster,” Ellen hisses. Cosette and Nick exchange glances.

Twenty minutes later, the girls find themselves near the lake, lined up next to Cooper Becker-Clay, who’s teaching the finer details of the ever important sport of wiffle ball. 

“Okay guys,” he says, pulling off his baseball hat and running his hand through his sandy hair. “I need some volunteers please.” His blue eyes roves the crowd of excitable preteens and lands on Ellen and Ali, who are both glaring at each other while pretending the other person doesn’t exist.

“Ellen. Ali. What about you two?”

Ellen shrugs, and Ali scoffs. “You’re choosing the person who wears skirts?”

“But she’s… not wearing a skirt,” Cooper says, looking a little confused. It’s true, Ellen is wearing a camp shirt tucked into a pair of shorts. 

“Ignore her, she’s being weird,” Ellen says, stepping forward. Ali glares. Cooper shakes his head as if straightening out his thoughts.

“Okay. Ali, take the bat and stand on the base. Just like that, yeah. And Ellen, come here. Okay guys pay attention. Ellen’s going to put her left foot forward since that’s her non-dominant side, and she’ll pull her right arm back and yeah - no Ellen wait!”

Ellen, after being raised with both Uncle Luis and Uncle Cooper, knows exactly how to aim a perfect fastball. And, being her mother’s daughter, she’s able to figure out how to compensate for the lighter ball - flicking her wrist just so - until her pitch is perfectly aimed straight for Ali’s nose. Ali, who isn’t expecting this, doesn’t swing and instead stands still as the ball comes flying towards her nose with a sickening crack. 

And, being Addy’s goddaughter, Ellen knows how to act too. “Oh my gosh Ali I’m so sorry,” she cries, sounding incredibly believable as she sprints after Cooper towards Ali, who’s got her hand pressed against her nose. “Uncle Cooper, really, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.”

Cooper looks between Ali, Ellen, and the other campers who look gleeful - they were expecting to make friendship bracelets and sing weird songs at camp, not see the greatest feud of their adolescent lives. 

“It’s fine El. Take Ali to Uncle Kris okay?”

“Okay, oh my gosh I feel so bad.”

Cooper, of course, being both not an idiot and the father of triplet girls, knows Ellen isn’t sorry in the slightest, but he lets her lead Ali to Kris’s med cabin. 

Once at the cabin, Ellen considers leaving Ali when Kris calls her in. 

“Hey Uncle Kris,” Ellen says as Kris lifts Ali onto a bed in the cabin lined with beds. Kris raises one perfectly arched eyebrow, his green eyes roving over Ellen’s face.

“Hello Ellen. How are we today, girls?”

Kris takes one look between the girl he’s known since she was born and the identical looking girl on the bed and knows exactly what happened.

“Fine,” Ellen says.

Ali mumbles something, and Kris pulls her hand from her nose. He touches it gently. 

“Well Miss Macauley, it’s not broken, just sore.” Kris looks over Ali’s face and notices a small cut, which he instantly starts cleaning.

“You know one of the wonderful things about camp is the ability to make new friends, right girls?” Kris asks, looking pointedly at Ellen.

“Yes sir,” Ellen says. Ali mumbles again.

“You know some friendships last a lifetime.”

“Yes sir.”

“It’s important to be open to new friendships too.”

“Yes sir.”

Kris laughs as he lifts Ali off the bed, her cut freshly bandaged and a wax wrapped caramel slipped into her hand. “Yes sir, yes sir. You’re not listening to a word I’m saying are you?”

“Yes sir,” Ellen repeats with a grin. Kris grins right back and hands her a caramel too.

“Okay, be good you two.”

“Yes sir!” Ali calls as she skips out of the cab. Kris shakes his head as he watches the girls go. He knows that’s not going to happen.

And it doesn’t. Their next class is theatre with Knox, where they’re putting on a production of the Wizard of Oz. 

“Alright guys, I have the cast list for you.” Knox rattles off names and assignments: Cosette is the Wicked Witch of the East, and Nick is the Cowardly Lion. “Ellen Rojas and Ali Macauley, you guys are Munchkins.”

“How come I’m a Munchkin when I’m taller than Ellen?” Ali asks, her voice a little warped because of her swollen nose.

“Am not!” Ellen protests.

“Are too!”

Cosette and Nick roll their eyes at each other and Knox sighs.

“Girls, girls, you two are identical if you haven’t realized.”

Both girls stop their squabbling to stare at Knox. They look at each other, studying one another.

“No way,” Ali says. 

“Agreed,” Ellen says.

“I’m way better looking than Ellen.”

“Excuse you! You look like you’re gonna sell drugs on the street in high school.”

Ali opens her mouth in shock as Knox startles and begins to reprimand Ellen. “Ellen Maeve Rojas you can not say things like tha-”

“TAKE THAT BACK!” Ali interrupts with a shout, lunging at Ellen. Ellen maintains her ground, and pushes back, aiming a punch at Ali’s already injured nose. Ali, being an inch taller in her Docs, gains the upper hand as she rolls on top of Ellen and is about to punch her nose when another person arrives in the amphitheater.

“Hey Knox I’ve got that box of props you wanted and Ali what in the world are you doing?”

Everyone turns to Maeve Santos carrying an old cardboard box under one arm. She’s in mom jeans and a Bayview High t-shirt today, a bandana covering her hair, and right now, she’s fuming. 

“She called me a future drug dealer!” Ali points at Ellen. “I was defending myself!”

“She started it!” Ellen protests, pushing Ali off her and sitting up. 

“No I didn’t, you started it!”

Maeve watches with pursed lips. Knox, having known Maeve for years, steps back. He knows an angry Maeve when he sees one.

“Both of you, come one, you’re moving to cabin seven.”

“Cabin seven?” Ellen repeats incredulously. “There are spiders and bugs and pests and stuff there!”

“And? You’re being a pest. Both of you. I’m disappointed in you. So you’re living together until you learn to get along.”

Her voice is calm, conversational almost, but her amber eyes are flashing dangerously. This is a Maeve you don’t cross. 

Sadly, Ellen doesn’t always have common sense.

“My mom won’t like that,” she says.

“Your mother is a…” Maeve stops, taking a deep breath to compose herself, and for a moment, both Ellen and Ali are actually scared. Ellen’s heard about the Aunt Maeve of yesteryears, the one who pushed people away and lashed out when hurting or scared because she never knew how to accept love. Bronwyn says Maeve used to be different, and Ellen can see what she meant. 

Ali and Ellen glance at each other, and they come to an understanding: they don’t need to talk to one another, or even acknowledge each other’s presence in Cabin Seven. But Maeve Santos should not be angered. 

“We’ll get our stuff,” Ali mumbles for the both of them.

“Good,” Maeve says.

“Off to the isolation cabin?” Knox teases. Maeve turns her glare to him, and he steps back.

“Forget I said anything.”

[zargsnake]

Knightkiller: Anakin and Obi-Wan’s First Adventure

Chapter 10: Gafia Chumpi

Word Count: 1493 Links: Chapter 1, Table of Contents

*   *   *

With all five lightsabers hidden in a case, Zlinky takes Jane up the elevator from the bottom floor to the arena floor. There is another crony already in the elevator, a Devaronian, whose horns poke out of poorly-broken holes in his helmet. He looks at Jane with unease, but addresses Zlinky in a friendly tone.

“Did you get any fried fluunies?”

“Uh... I'm allergic,” she replies.

“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that.”

“It's not your fault.”

“Right, I know, I meant ‘sorry’ as in, uh, I'm sympathetic.”

“Er, okay.”

“Not, as in, uh, I'm guilty.”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Uh. Sorry.”

The elevator door opens and Zlinky turns toward the arena -- then she pivots and walks with the crony instead, against the tide of people. They've already got a conversation going; she might as well get some information out of him.

“Hey!” she calls.

“Ah! Uh, hello.”

“What's your name, anyway? I'm new here.”

“Oh, um, I'm Gafia Chumpi. What's yours?”

“Zliiiiiiisl Watl.”

“Zlisl Watl?”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh. You must be very new. I haven't heard of you at all.”

“I am. So!” Zlinky clears her throat. “Uh, what made you go into the, uh, Jedi-killing business?”

“Oh, uh, well, I never really meant to. It's not that great a story.”

“Tell me.” She practices her mind-trick; against this guy, it’s fairly easy.

“Uh...well, I aged out of an orphanage on the fifty-thousand-ish-layer of Coruscant. It’s about in the middle. And I had a kinda hard time finding a job there. Plus, it's really not that great a planet, if you're not on the top layer.”

“Oh, I know. I'm from Coruscant too.”

“Really? Where?”

“You first!”

“Er, okay. Well. So I got a ticket offworld, to a place called Dantooine. Cuz I read a book, once, about some guys who, uh, sort of, herded kath-hounds there, and they had these great hats in the illustrations, and I thought, ‘Well, hey! I could do that!’”

“Uh huh,” says Zlinky.

This is nothing. I should go... 

Gafia can tell he's boring her. “Uh… Well…” He speaks faster. “So, I got to Dantooine, which is a really nice place to live, but uh, unfortunately, I wasn't really that great at kath-herding either. Still, I was set on getting that hat. So I was staring at this one hat in the store window, wondering how I would ever afford it, when these big goon-type guys approached me and asked if I wanted to make some money. Uh… That's, I guess, when things really started to go downhill.”

“Well. There's a universe where you said no, and then there's this one.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind,” Zlinky mumbles.

“Er. Yeah. Uh. -- Well apparently, and I didn't really figure this all out until later, but they picked me out cuz I'm a Devaronian, and at the time I looked a lot like this other Devaronian, who was a Padawan at the Dantooine Temple. So they gave me a script and made me record this holo, saying I was in big trouble and all this stuff. And they sent the holo to the Padawan’s Jedi Master to lure her out, and I hid in this cave, and when she came to, uh, quote-unquote ‘rescue’ me, the whole cave turned out to be a ship and they blasted all of us off into space. Which … hadn't, really, been part of my plan. Such that I had one…”

“What happened to the Padawan Devaronian and his master?”

Gafia starts to turn into a busier hall, but Zlinky turns more confidently into an empty one, so he follows her.

“Well, I think the Padawan Devaronian is still on Dantooine. But her master ... I mean, Knightkiller gets what she wants, doesn't she?”

“I thought she only had the Lollian, the human, and their Padawans.”

“Huh? Oh, well, for the tournament, yeah, those are the only knights we've rounded up so far. But before that. Before Senator Dinv of Raktu gave us his sponsorship, and we got this big and legitimate.”

“This is hardly legitimate.”

“I mean, compared to what it was.”

“What was it like?”

“I've only been here, like, a year -- er, I guess, two years -- three, almost -- eesh -- but back before we got this station, we had a real dinky ship, a Corellian something-something with a big warehouse glued on top for fighting. Knightkiller would go toe-to-toe with any Jedi we could find for her. She used to do all the fighting herself. We went all around the galaxy to avoid detection, but that also made it harder to, uh, advertise, of course. I mean, those in the know, were uh... in the know. But that was only the top two-percent of death-match fans, the people who go to every game, who devote their lives to it. To casual fans, we were really unknown. We did get a bit of extra income from selling the lightsabers.”

Zlinky feels like there is ice in her heart. “How many Jedi have died?”

“...Er... I'm not... a hundred percent sure... usually we couldn't get a real Jedi; usually we'd just dress someone up, and give them a lightsaber, if we hadn’t had to sell it yet... How many real Jedi? ... Ten, I think...Twelve? Since I've been here.”

“How can you stand it? How can you do this?”

Gafia stops in his tracks and stares at her. “Well how can you stand it? You work here, too.”

“I -- I didn't know how awful it would be. I -- I had nowhere else to go.”

“... Well... Same with me, sister.”

She holds his arm. “We should both run away.”

“Run away? We can't. No one will forgive us. Everyone loves the Jedi.”

“Not everyone.”

“The courts certainly do. We'll be executed.”

“But maybe that's the right thing to do. We turn ourselves in, accept the consequences -- but we help the authorities track down this awful station and stop this awful sport.”

“...This sport is a lot bigger than you think it is, Zlisl,” Gafia says, more solemnly, taking his arm from her. “That's the first thing you learn in the biz. We can bring down one station, but it'll continue somewhere else. The corporations who sponsor these fighters -- they're household names.”

“But this--” Zlinky points at the ground, “-- is the only death match station killing Jedi.”

“Er ... As far as I know, yeah.”

“Why? Why's Glag-- I mean -- why's Knightkiller doing this? What's she got against Jedi?”

“That's the big question, isn't it? You wanna ask her?”

“Yes, in fact, I do.”

“Well, you won't. She'll kill you before you open your mouth. She can read insolent thoughts.”

“Why do you think she's doing this?”

“I…”

“You must have a guess. Tell me!”

“Alright, alright.” He keeps walking and speaks quietly. “Uh, well the rumor among us guards is that she used to be one. One of our lightsabers, we never sell. The rumor is, it's hers.”

“She never uses it?” Zlinky walks close beside him.

“Never.”

“But what happened?”

“Nobody knows.”

Zlinky grits her teeth. “Yeah, I get that. But what's the rumor?”

“Er... Well, they must have wronged her, right? Maybe they kicked her out. Or maybe she just got sick of their stupid rules.”

“Our rules are sacred.”

Gafia freezes, lifts up his comlink and presses a button. Zlinky can’t see his face under his helmet, but she senses his anger at being tricked.

“Jane!” says Zlinky.

With a loud cranking sound, Jane aims her arm-blaster at Gafia’s chest and neutralizes him.

Zlinky had led Gafia far from the crowd; the few people nearby stop and stare at the scene.

“Death match business! Carry on!” Zlinky insists in her deepest voice. She waves at them to continue walking, then she picks open the closest broom closet with her trusty screwdriver and drags the Devaronian inside. She checks his pulse; it isn't exactly steady, but it isn't completely still.

“I really, really need to talk to Tila...”

“ᴀᴍ ɪ ꜱᴇʀᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴀᴛɪꜱꜰᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ɢᴜᴀʀᴅ?”

Zlinky pats Jane’s tall shoulder plate. “You're doing a great job, Jane. I'm sorry you're still missing parts.” She props up Gafia and takes off his helmet so he can more easily breathe. He’s very handsome, which affects her more than it should. “I’m missing parts, too,” she says and instantly regrets how dramatic that sounds.

“ɪ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴ ɪɴꜱɪɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴘᴇᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ,” says Jane, with no such compunction.

Zlinky pats her shoulder again. “The Force connects everything.”

“ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ?”

“The... Look, you're not going to remember, so I'll just explain later. You've got a purpose now, anyway, you're protecting me. I'm sure I'd be dead without you.”

“ᴇʜʜʜʜʀr҉r҉r҉g҉g̴̣͆̀̔g̴̨̭̗̠̱̩̖̙̽̓̈́̒͝,” Jane says, unsatisfied and anxious.

Zlinky reaches up, grabs Jane’s face, and pulls it down so they are eye to eye. Jane's neck moves with a clicking sound.

“Thank you,” Zlinky says earnestly.

“ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ, ɢᴜᴀʀᴅ.”

“It's Zlinky.”

“ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴀʀᴇʟʏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴊᴀɴᴇ, ꜱᴏ ᴇxᴄᴜꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴘʀɪᴏʀɪᴛɪᴢɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ.”

“You're excused. Come on. My master is in that arena. I'm gonna try to get her lightsaber to her. The human in the tan armor -- that's the other Jedi. And Anakin is somewhere, too…”

“ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴄᴀᴘᴀᴄɪᴛʏ: ꜰᴜʟʟ.”

“Nevermind. Just follow me and do what I say.”

They head toward the arena. Zlinky's mind races for a way to get the lightsabers to the two Jedi masters. It's the only real goal she has right now. The only purpose, as Jane would say. After that ... the real knights can figure out something.

Chapter 11: Revenge

[tartrazeen]

How DBH Leans Way Harder Into HankCon Than Father/Son

Listen.

I love you people who make Hank and Connor that whole platonic family thing. Totally you do you, that's fine, don't even worry about it.

For real - this isn't some ship war. It's a game. I even got some dad vibes from Hank before - oop, nope, we just went full daddy, didn't we. So this is not pitting two ideas against each other to see which one's better. They're both good. I massively prefer one, but I'm not saying either one is wrong.

I *am* saying the canon is geared towards their relationship being HankCon.

Putting my last analysis aside, this game's got a consistent pattern to it: the relationship comes to a conflict.

Can a machine be a person? Central conflict of the game. The relationship is between humans and androids externally, and androids and machines internally.

Can an android ever be a mom? Kara's story, with a conflict of "What's the worst that can happen?" It certainly leads to some bad decisions, and - just... the *worst* doctor's appointment.

Can an android be a human's son? Markus' story with its conflict of, "Is that bad?" And here, we get some subtle hints that Leo's not too thrilled, like when Markus gets shot in the face (#defundthepolice amirite? no seriously, wtf guys). Unlike Kara, Markus doesn't have a little "Family" bar showing for Carl, but not only do they openly say what they think, Markus' extended conflict towards this is questioning whether he was more than a slave in a gilded cage or a privileged rich kid now playing War Leader.

Can androids be a threat? There's some demonizing of Markus if he inexplicably gets mad that his people are being killed to death (with a beautiful analysis on that tone policing by dbh-rambling) , but yes, that relationship's in the Deviant Leader's story as Pacifist vs. Non-Pacifist.

Can androids love?

Oh boy.

The question of whether androids can be somebody's son (or daughter) is only actively and directly discussed in Markus' story, and in Kara's from the parent's POV. Family doesn't come up in Connor's except for one big moment and one big parallel: when Hank tells Machine!Connor that every time a Connor died, he thought of Cole, and when Daniel at the start has his whole thing of being replaced after thinking he was part of the family.

Those do not incite a conflict.

For Markus, Leo makes fun of the idea, leading to one of the plethora of opportunities we have to sad-kill his dad or allow Markus stand up for himself.

Zlatko mocks Kara and kidnaps Alice, and while Kara won't leave the house without her kid in tow (who warned you like a billion times to leave girl smh), the race is on to find this chick. Ralph straight up tries to force it if you go that route, again putting Kara and Alice's bond to the test. Same thing at the recycling plant and crossing the border: how far will Kara take this 'mom' thing is the conflict.

Ain't nobody pullin' that shit on Connor.

He's vaguely interested in Hank's 'personal problems' as it pertains to the case. Hank might open up a little about Cole. It's not discussed until the very end, and the theme of 'son' doesn't enter the picture until we *see* a picture at Hank's house, whereupon Connor says nothing about it. That's different from the other storylines, where that family theme appears (and gets talked about) pretty much right away.

Connor doesn't even connect with the idea of replacing a member of a family when he's facing off against Daniel at the start. He basically calls Daniel dumb for it, pre-Zlatko style. His one interest in the Cole situation is saying it's not Hank's fault, with his sincerity adjusted per the Machine! or Deviant! path. He's focused on Hank and Hank alone.

You know what else he's focused on?

"Androids can't feel anything."

"They're not 'technically' emotions."

"I'm a machine and machines don't want anything."

Markus doesn't question whether he can be in love. Kara is maybe surprised by the emotion of those two androids at Rose's house, but her love for Alice is out in the open several times. That's the one thing they feel confident about, and North is as quick to accept it (as the only relationship able to go to 'Lover') as Markus is if Kara explains to him why she's helping Alice. Even as he's mocking her, Zlatko doesn't question that Kara *thinks* she loves her daughter. He uses it against her. That's why these aren't conflicts: they're facts more than anything, taken for granted.

... You know who ain't takin' that shit for granted? And is instead - like, actively challenging every speckle of the concept?

"*smack* What am I to you, a statistic? A 'zero', a 'one' in your fucking program?"

"People are fucking insane. They don't want relationships anymore, everybody just gets an android."

"Those two girls wanted to be together. They really seemed in love."

And like Zlatko with Kara, we have 60 being all goddamn, "Now it's time to decide what matters most: him or the revolution."

That is a conflict.

Kara, Luther and Alice go to a happy little theme park and frolic on a merry-go-round.

Markus has a heart to heart with either Carl at his deathbed or just with Carl's grave, but always to seek advice.

Connor and Hank go to a fucking strip club advertised in their *first* chapter together and get into a bitchy quarrel about, "WHAT ARE YOU REALLY CONNOR, I SHOULD NOT HAVE ADDED A GUN TO THIS CONVERSATION (for real #defundthepolice)."

That is the relationship.

So to recap:

Testing Markus' family relationship with Carl incites a conflict with Leo about who Carl's son really is, eventually putting their lives on the line.

Testing Kara's family relationship with Alice incites a whole host of conflicts that put their lives repeatedly on the line.

Testing Connor's family relationship with Hank incites... uh... a 53-year-old bear calling a 30-year-old weaponized twink 'son' as Connor bleeds out in that one ending you get where you do nothing for two minutes you monster, or - at best - spurs Connor to follow the platonic love of putting a father figure over *the entire revolution and existence of his newly self-aware species* by using it to 'find each other' once Hank has to pick out the real Connor.

Testing Connor's romantic relationship with Hank incites Hank to *fucking kill himself* if you two aren't friends, him punching Perkins in the face if you *are* friends, variations on one your asses dangling off the side of a building or getting dropped/pushed right off of it, and having it listed as a full-on betrayal if you dare to stay a licky blood machine.

Look - Connor said it himself:

"I'm whatever you want me to be: your partner, your buddy to drink with, or just a machine programmed to accomplish a task."

*You do you*. If you see them as family, just make sure they're happy for me, please (and that you remember that even on the good ending, Connor has to murder a minimum of two guards to get through CyberLife so show his ass some respect).

... but.

But.

I mean, when even Clancy says they weren't father and son - not to appeal to the actors' POV or anything, but if that wasn't on the menu when Bryan whipped out a little "I adapt to human unpredictability" wink (that he apparently had to fight David Cage for) then whoa - that makes the idea of Hank and Connor's relationship being platonic less canon than the evidence *for* HankCon.

Besides that, if Markus and Kara *and* Connor are exploring those angles of platonic android and human families, in and around the willingness to explore overt romantic relationships among the androids, who do we have to explore a romance between a human and android?

;)

[adultswim2021]

Welcome to Eltingville: “Bring Me the Head of Boba Fett” | February 26, 2002 - 4:00 AM | Special

Lots of personal baggage to unpack on this one, so please forgive what will surely read as a personal blog post:

Welcome to Eltingville was the first of Adult Swim’s “failed pilots” which aired as a special. It’s failed in the sense that it didn’t get picked up, presumably for being too expensive. It originally aired as a stealth premiere at 4:00AM on Monday night/Tuesday morning, I’m assuming to fulfill a contractual agreement. It had a “for real” advertised premiere on March 3rd, which is what you’ll find cited on various web sources.

It’s time I confess something here: I didn’t like this show the first time around. The early 2000s was a time when “nerd” culture was being clumsily embraced as a novelty. People suddenly started gravitating towards movies and shows about nerds, all usually portrayed in a cutesy and toothless way. Yes, I was too blinded by my own shunning of this trend to realize that this show was the antithesis of that. And yes, I was unfamiliar with the original comics that these were based on, which probably would have blown my mind if I was aware of them in the 90s. Hell, I would have shunned a Dan Pussey cartoon if I weren’t already in love with Dan Clowes comics.

Was it all overblown in my own head? Well, I can only come up with two examples to illustrate my distaste for “nerds stuff”, so yes, it probably was. First, Super Nerds, which was a 2000 pilot staring Patton Oswalt and Brian Posehn as two nerds who worked at a comic book store. I was sold on it by a friend as being the best sitcom he’d ever seen in his life. I also loved Patton Oswalt and Brian Posehn. But good lord, did I hate that show, a lot. The more mainstream example is the Comedy Central show Beat the Geeks, a trivia game show where normal people compete against experts (or geeks) in certain fields (usually popular culture related). The promos showed the geeks in question strutting around and ironically looking cool and triumphant. These promos were so profoundly unfunny to me that I found it insane and offensive when the whole “geek” angle seemed to hook other members of my family. “there’s this game show where guys have to compete... against GEEKS! haw haw!” I can still hear my dad’s voice echo in my head. I still hate it!

I also didn’t relate to traditionally geeky things, like superhero comics, science fiction/fantasy, etc. I hated all of that stuff, and I still mostly do (did I go through a multiple year phase in my early 30s where I tried to force myself to like super hero comics? Yes! I did! It didn’t particularly take). I am absolutely a comedy nerd, though, which is a much MUCH lonelier pursuit.

Hell, the comedy nerd isn’t even an archetype on TV shows; Freaks and Geeks came fairly close, but those guys also liked sci-fi and role-playing games and stuff. Square Pegs also had a comedy nerd character. There was that episode of Undeclared where Martin Starr is boring the rest of the cast by trying to explain that Freddy Got Fingered was an intelligent anti-comedy (the closest I’ve ever seen myself be portrayed on screen). All of these shows lasted one season, making the comedy nerd character the most potent poison since (NOTE TO SELF: google FAMOUS FICTIONAL POISONS, please pick a cool non-nerdy one [leave note-to-self in write-up if coming up with one is impossible {will come off as intentional meta-humor (everyone will love this)}]).

Welcome to Eltingville is about four friends who have created The Eltingville Comc Book, Science-Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, and Role-Playing Club. They’ve presumably been together for a long time when this episode starts, and we see the dynamics of the club right away, the main thing being the constant petty bickering that quickly becomes violent and destructive. They’re all gigantic jerks who presumably only hang with each other because nobody else will. The main conflict of this show has to do with Bill, the Stan of the group, and Josh, the Cartman, who eventually come to blows over a rare Boba Fett doll-- I mean, figure. The first half of the show is a pretty good introduction to the would-be-series, with the guys playing a D&D style role-playing game and then getting into a full-fledged fist-fight over a VHS compilation of nude scenes that turns out to be a recording of the Hair Bear Bunch. The second half is an adaptation of the comic story “Bring Me The Head of Boba Fett”. Had I thought of it I might have read the entire run of Eltingville Club comics before reviewing this. Unfortunately it was a bit of an afterthought so I just read the first two stories, including the Boba Fett one. For the record, I own the Eltingville book, and definitely read and loved the two-issue series that serves as the ending of the Eltingville comics. It’s all those comics in the middle I still need to get to.

The show is very funny and it looks beautiful. According to the few interviews that I’ve found regarding the show (including a page of text found in the Eltingville book, which precedes a section showing off some of the character design sheets), there really wasn’t much reason given for the show not getting picked up. The show definitely looked better than anything else on Adult Swim, so the whole “too expensive” thing seems like as good an assumption as any. Apparently Dorkin spread himself too thin working on this, attempting to design/draw every little thing seen on screen. I actually wondered that while watching the show, because his art style is faithfully preserved here, which is great! The episode ends the same way the comic story does, with Bill & Josh in a trivia-off, competing over the buying rights for a 12 inch Boba Fett action figure at their local comic shop. With every rewatch of this show I confront one basic thing about myself, and it’s how much of the trivia I’ve picked up since the last rewatch. Bill & Josh’s trivia-off is a flurry of questions regarding all kinds of geek garbage, and the few years between viewings of this results in me knowing a few more answers. But, I have the internet, and can usually get hold of a movie or TV show or comic book almost instantly. It’s important to not lose sight that these kids (especially in the comics) are either high-school or college-aged and they learned all of this shit in an era when the internet wasn’t as ubiquitous as it is today. The original comic is set firmly in 1994, and when there’s a dispute over a question Josh runs home to get a large Godzilla reference book to prove that he’s correct. This changed in the pilot to Josh losing on a technicality with a slip-of-the-tongue; attributing a famous catchphrase to a fellow club-member who had adopted it for himself (the comic actually SEEMS to set this up, but doesn’t go in that direction at all, which is weird when you read it AFTER watching this special. I think that means the cartoon improved on that idea).

Wikipedia makes no mention of this stealth broadcast. It would SEEM to make more sense that it aired Monday morning following late night Sunday, but Adult Swim ended at 1AM back in these days, making early Monday morning still technically “out of bounds”. In fact, I very nearly “corrected” the air date to reflect this, but a quick google search for “Welcome to Eltingville” + “4AM” yielded this message board thread where we can see in real time that early Tuesday morning is indeed correct. So, if you’re ever arguing over a 12 inch Boba Fett feel free to uses this trivia in your trivia off.

[barbika1508]

Hiwaga (Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader)

Part 1

Words: 11,1 k

Genre: Soulmate AU, Reincarnation AU, Enemies to Lovers, Action, Romance, Smut

Pairing: Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader

Warnings: Brief mentions of smut, Cursing

Summary: Life was good, playing out better than it has been ever before. My future was bright and full of promises and wishes coming to realization. All up until she showed up. She stormed though the front doors ruining everything along the way by her mere presence derailing my goals and purpose in life. A puny mortal, a child, a complete nuisance, and yet…The key to an unimaginable life, to the truth all along.

Author's note: Hiwaga – mystery; full of wonder Words in italics are dialogues or thoughts that Jeongguk reads from others. So I’ve done research with this fic, and used certain words that need explanation…given that there can be A LOT I’ve put a dictionary just below the fic if anyone is interested :3

Jeongguk’s POV:

‘’Stop it.’’

I barely flinch at the hiss the presence that settles on my left expected, to which my glare remains unfaltering ‘’She’s just…infuriating.’’ I sigh quietly, trying to relax my clenched jaw but just settle right back into pressing my teeth tight together while my fingers curl into fists, annoyance brewing.

‘’Why is that?’’ the question has me rolling my eyes inside my head, as I shift onto my right foot and away from the broad-shouldered vampire, keeping my composure in case of anyone looking towards us.

‘’I don’t know, I just really, really don’t like her.’’ I grumble glaring at the girl that’s grinning widely showing of her blunt teeth advertising to everyone that she’s not like us. She’s literally making herself a bait, even though Yoongi hyung made sure she was doused in his scent not even an hour ago.

She’s chatting away with a middle-aged guy, his wife looking interested as she eyes the regular girl up and down her thoughts not promising anything good. Right now, I’m cursed having the abilities that I have, easily reading through the crowd of people that’s surrounding us. I hate big gatherings, or any gatherings for that matter. Its bothersome to keep my concentration up at all times, to prevent all the voices from flooding my mind. Well except for hers. Not hearing her thoughts, is one of the most infuriating things.

‘’We know that Jeongguk-ah. It’s been a well-known fact since the moment she stepped a foot past the front doors.’’ Jin hyung chuckles clearly amused by my brooding and misery, as I recall not even a month ago how she loudly shrieked a greeting, and then just ran up to Yoongi hyung. He offered her a SMILE! HE SMILED AT HER AND LET HER HUG HIM!!!

The scene as I remember it is still bizarre and sort of unrealistic. How easily everyone accepted her, even though she isn’t of our kin. We’ve turned away, orphaned fairies, witches and even shapeshifting dragons which could have given us great amounts in the power dynamic. And yet there’s Y/N. Ugh even her name has me rolling my shoulder back, as my nose briefly scrunches, Jin hyungs hand landing on my shoulder reminds me that I need to keep a calmer attitude. Glancing over to him he’s completely amused as he looks at me.

‘’You are stewing in your anger without a real purpose youngling.’’ He teases the nickname a pain in the ass ‘’Relax, Jeonggukie.’’ He leans in closer still smirking but looks me directly in the eyes hovering up close There’s plenty of girls here. Some with royal statues or skills you can only ever imagine of. he wiggles his eyebrows at me suggestively. This time around I do roll my eyes for him to see, shaking my shoulders and him off as he ends up giggling not taking offense in my behaviour.

In a regular setting or just a regular gathering as this one is, I wouldn’t miss any single opportunity to tease him, or make fun of him blatantly but given the new guests I’m not in the mood whatso ever.

I do look at the wives, girlfriends, mistresses of our guests that fill our spacious ballroom besides the variation of men, that had me tune out their thoughts the moment the first 5 arrived. And granted they are all gorgeous, youthful, pale complexion mostly with vibrant eyes full of life, and deadly fangs poking from their lips proudly. My jaw unclenches, while I raise my chin up in interest once a blonde girl, walks past us quite a distance but I don’t miss how she flutters her eyes towards me, keeping on a shy smile which is a pretence but the visual has my attention. Her long blonde hair is cascading down over her exposed shoulder the ends curled up meticulously. Her front is a bit on the flatter side, figure smooth and flawless as the red wine dress that’s running and falling down her body like an endless seem of water while a thin vail that covers it, sparkles in the lights at times making her look more out of this world.

I raise an eyebrow in curiosity ready to start this game of chase. Watching intently, she offers a wider smirk steps slowing down, when suddenly she disappears from my view thanks to the group of chattering vampires ahead of us. Looking left and right she doesn’t pop up. Interesting.

‘’That’s it Jeongguk-ah. Our fearless maknae on the prowl.’’ Jin pats me over my back smirking his words making me smile but from half embarrassment and half amusement ‘’You know I’ve picked up on certain gossip that’s been floating around.’’ The implication has me turning to my older hyung fully in curiosity.

‘’Do spill thou secrets, dearest hyung.’’ another voice replies, Taehyung joining the two of us smirking knowingly. He probably knows where this is going, being the coven’s expert gossiper and a professional drama queen so to speak. He knows the ins and outs of the vampire world, dipping his toes into the werewolf pack’s and mere-folk communities as of lately. I simply slide my hands into the pockets of the black suit creased trousers I have on. I paired my outfit with a black long-sleeved saint Laurens shirt, and over it I’ve gone with a white suit jacket with golden detailing on it.

Jin hyung has gone more with a professional (regal) look, wearing a midnight black 5-piece suit, with the difference in the dress shirt which is a darker purple colour. The tie he has one, is more visibly purple adorned in small golden accessories that state which clan he belongs to by the logo being pined near the knot. He’s not only displaying regal colours but also the wealth, the rank and honour that was given to him, when he reached a milestone in his old age which not many vampires do anymore. The status and extra titles are appointed according to age and actions and Jin hyung has made it pretty high on both of those simple to-do lists as I’d like to call them.

Taehyung on the other hand is like me dressed in all black, going with a matching 2-piece suit lacking the suit jacket which leaves him in a more of a blouse type of dress shirt that has white squares doted randomly across. He has tucked the shirt into the slightly high waisted trousers, which makes shapes up his figure to the tens.

He quirks an eyebrow as he smiles mischievous standing on Jin hyungs left, giving me a knowing look.

‘’Rumour has it, amongst our lovely ladies mainly but in a wider circle nonetheless…’’

‘’Meaning everyone, yes hyung.’’ Taehyung pips in encouragingly licking his lips as he points his stare at the elder. I quickly shush him smirking as I glance between the two Taehyung grinning while Jin shakes his head but remains humoured.

‘’…it is said, that after a night with our Jeonggukie here, even as a vampire you’ll be having problems walking the next day.’’ His eyes are fixated on me gauging my reaction while I meet Taehyung’s gaze just knowing exactly what he normally would say. I don’t even have to read his mind to know.

But he loudly snorts instead ‘’You’ve left out the juicy part of the rumours hyung.’’ I lift my chin up again but look away from the two trying to see and detect if anyone is listening into our conversation. There’s a group of vampires that is standing close to us. Some have picked up on our talk but they are occupied discussing something else that has their complete attention, two women snickering to themselves quietly ‘’Our Jeonggukie even though is the cutest and the most innocent looking as a cherub doesn’t cuddle. Or kiss after he’s done fucking your brains out. How about that?’’

Turning back to the two, the elder gives me a disapproving look meanwhile Taehyung is strictly mirthful clearly finding this amusing ‘’I’m not looking for love. It’s simply an exchange of pleasantries and then it’s back to regularities.’’ I shrug turning away as the dark-haired vampire coos, chuckling while Jin hyung who has dyed his hair into a faint purple colour tsks.

‘’Oiii we didn’t raise you like that young man.’’ He chides while my eyes finding the blonde once more. Her gaze is already on me, clearly taking me in up and down shamelessly ogling me. To keep this interesting I refrain from reading into her mind, and offer a smirk back, taking her in as well. She’s joined into a conversation which she barely participates once our gazes interlock ‘’Yahhhh don’t ignore us! Don’t prove those rumours right!!!’’

‘’Let him be hyung.’’ Taehyung defends me, chuckling ‘’He’ll learn eventually, after getting punched into the balls enough times.’’

That has me quirking both eyebrows in question as I turn to the black haired male, his hair having grown out making him look all the more attractive in the period of a few months since he let it grow ‘’Have you learned that from experience hyung?’’ now I’m the one amused at the implication. But the mischief simply rolls of him.

‘’it’s a possibility.’’ He challenges back ‘’But it’s also well known what a gentleman I am first and foremost.’’ he wiggles his eyebrows, right hand rising up fingers wiggling, the suggestion obvious which has Jin let out a dry laugh.

‘’You younglings are just so cocky.’’ The elder condemns crossing his arms.

‘’Ah hyung I’m sure you were the same as we were at one point in your long and richly filled life.’’ Taehyung half sings stepping closer to the taller male, that simply smirks, his gaze now trained forward onto someone ignoring the antics of the younger vampire who cuddles up to him. I mimic our hyung turning forward in search of the blonde again, that once more has disappeared. Damn.

‘’I’m not telling you animals anything. You’d only take it as a challenge. And then I’ll just have more work to do cleaning after you.’’ Jin ends up grumbling the bickering going on put to the back of my mind.

With the wine-red colour in mind, I scan the growing crowd finding 4 more girls with a similar dress offering gleeful smiles, and even winks in return. Even though they look nice, I can’t help but to want to find the blonde. She had this quirky smile to her, and the fact that she put on an innocent face has me guessing she’s into something kinkier than she’d led onto.

Just as I’m about to head forward and find her by myself my intentions gets stopped.

‘’Oh, waw would you look at that.’’ Only now I notice that my two brothers have fallen silent, and are both staring ahead at something at the same time. Glancing at the two, Jin is amused while Tae’s expression is sort of blank. I follow their line of sight, finding an odd pair near middle of the room conversing. My blood runs cold at the sight. The 4 men that surround them are obviously body guards, the notion simply a sign of his power whilst is completely useless.

I sigh through my nose as other’s thoughts fill my mind, the curiosity and excitement and want for bloodshed rising in each and every vampire in the room.

The vampire that’s in the middle of the 4 man is Wangseja. Nobody actually knows his real name, as far as I know and have been told it’s been centuries so everyone just addresses him by his title. He is a descendant of the royal family, and has been meant to inherit the throne in his human life time. But obviously as he’s still here, breathing and undead something must have happened for him to have has to stray away from the human world and path of life.

He is not the only vampire that’s considered being one of the oldest here. There are a few more in this very room, one being our Yoongi hyung, and Jin following just close behind, after 3 others.

The 8 gifted with the title ‘elders’ are considered being in charge, with everything that’s regarding our vampire community and largely covens as they’ve tried to portray it as if we’re families. Which we aren’t. Coven wars still happen most often than some would like, and not enough to others.

Back to the former crown prince, he’s wearing a Gonryongpo which translates to Dragon Robe. He has the famous yellow dragon woven over his back which simply makes me assume that even though he puts on a friendly face and demander he’s a cocky asshole. He must be. Those clothes are generalized as robes that government officials and royalty wore but it’s well known that they were mainly emperors clothing. A bit pompous if you ask me.

Of course, the other 8 elders are dressed similarly to him, but in comparison they are dressed in downgraded versions.

His colours are the ones of red and to my misfortune of not being able to make fun of him later he isn’t wearing the traditional hat along his attire. He is however strapped with a Samjeongdo at his side. Again, it's all telling me he's a prick. I don’t even have to peek into his mind to see him as a sheep in wolfs clothing. A dangerous sheep with incredible power nonetheless. My nose scrunches up as his laughter can be heard all the way here, the ballroom having gotten quieter, everyone’s attention and ears focused in on the conversation at hand, the odd pair presenting curiosity amidst my kin. I bet the next gossip is going to revolve solemnly onto what’s happening right now. Ugh, great.

The girl that’s standing before him sports a bright smile unbothered by the many eyes that are fixated on her, taking in every error that’s marked over her skin, every imperfection that lies over her features and hair that even though has been styled looks messy to me.

She stands out from everyone else, simply by the colour choice of her dress which happens to be a soft lilac that edges on white, and grey. Ridiculous!

The ladies in the room, are for the most part dressed in designer clothing, with jewels, glitters, and modern sewing, styled to perfection which is an overused word, but that’s just what vampires tend to do. Dress to impress, every detail smoothened and detailed 100%.

Her dress is draped from her waist down pooling shily around her feet, her neckline all but shy as the V-neck is deep showing of her collarbones and extra skin, the odd scar littered here and there ruining her darker completion, pale not being in her vocabulary. Her fingers are adorned with golden rings, same goes for her ears where golden earrings dangle in the bright lighting of the chandeliers. More gold has ben simply strewn over the mess of her hair, the style which is supposed to be elegant has had my head shaking even before.

The cuff on her bicep even though displays her prominent muscular and athletic figure highlighting her arms is unnecessary, as is the leaf belt around her waist that makes her hips look wider. I’m sure there’s plenty of men lusting after her plump figure alone. I bet her flesh is soft, and easy to hold onto, the covered-up skin probably littered with more scars that seem to litter her every inch of her body. Unlike most people she shamelessly displays them.

What irks me, and leaves me in complete puzzlement is the sword that’s strapped to her hip. I’ve been told she’s a swordswoman, and that she has had the training of it as I’ve stumbled upon her and Yoongi hyung sparing one day randomly in the gym. The space is big and can have a boxing ring in it if we wish to, other activities such as practicing martial arts, and archery enabled by its spaciousness.

The already what looks like an exaggerated grin grows wider her animated looking speech bothersome. Her right hand is the one to move around fingers twitching, constantly touching the handle of her sword, awkwardly almost while her left hand is preoccupied with holding a glass that contains alcohol in it the content unknown to me. She’s the only one with a drink in hand making her even more obvious that she doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong with us.

And yet the prince seems to eat her right up with his eyes alone. He’s completely entranced by her. I don’t understand one bit as to why - she’s full of imperfections like I’ve said, the fact that she’s a foreigner isn’t the issue, but the word she chooses to say are at times very disrespectful as she doesn’t know better clearly her Korean obviously lacking while her mannerism are those of a child.

Still irked I tilt my head tongue darting over my teeth and cheek as I focus my gaze onto the man, the sound of my inner voice fading back, as the haze behind my eyes and fogginess that surround me starts to lift up. It would be way easier to close my eyes, but that would make it obvious that I’m trying to do something that I shouldn’t be doing.

As I blink a few times, I find myself in the prince’s shoes which are uncomfortable but he’s keeping that at the back of his mind. He notes how she’s so small and fragile looking compared to him, easily to take, steal away if it were the older times. Okay old man.

She’s just like a child! So excited and clumsy, its adorable. That sword on her hips must be a mere toy. Something to add sparkle and value to her in a sense. But the display of it does raise questions; Why did Min Yoongi let her wear that? And the style of it, very much so foreign to our own Geom’s and sword styles in Korea.

He probably dressed her up himself, given that she’s absolutely drenched in his bitter scent. Ugh mint. I’ve grown to absolutely hate it as it’s a reminder of him whenever the scent hits my nose. If it weren’t for him, I’d be king, and all these fools and idiots would have already been kissing my feet.

So why is he displaying her off like this? He has staked his claim, but hasn’t marked her. It must be a bribery? No Min wouldn’t stop so low he’s too prideful for that.

Look at her go, rising chuckles from my chest with almost ease which is sort of unusual how her humour seems to be in tune with my own. Even though she’s more than meets the eye, she’d be fun to play around with. Tie her down, or simply hold her as she’s useless against my strength...then use all her holes us, and drain her…fuck what would I give for a taste of her blood. Even though the mint covers her up, her own sweetness has started to seep through. She smells like the freshest batch of strawberries, mint ruining it into acidness. I want to ruin her…

A backhanded hit over the back of my head, brings me accidentally to another place in the Prince’s mind, seeing the image of the human girl being tied up inhumanely, and him fucking her. The scene has my stomach churning and if I was still human, I’d be throwing up right here and now. If my blood was ice cold before it quickly warms up, as that’s no way to threat any woman or man for the matter human or no. As I blink rapidly coming back to my own stiff body, I offer a glare towards the Prince one last time before turning to a fuming Seokjin hyung that’s glaring at me hand still holding onto the back of my neck, with an underlaying treat resting heavily between us.

‘’Are you fucking crazy?!’’ he hisses pupils starting to glow more prominently red as his anger rises. Only now I notice Yoongi hyung on my left, that’s neutrally staring at me clearly disappointed but there’s this sort of glimmer in his eye that I can’t exactly read ‘’Out of all the things we’ve told you not to do and you go straight ahead and spit in our faces?!?’’ his anger is basically radiating in waves from him, as he leans in closer to me to my neck, hand tightening forcing me to hold my head still.

Taehyung was quick to move and stand in line of sight trying to block out anyone from seeing what’s going on where we are near the balcony that has remained unusually unoccupied this evening.

‘’It was me.’’ Yoongi replies neutrally. It’s that sort of neutral that’s plainly terrifying as you cannot know what direction his emotions are swinging at. Even though he is my creator, my saviour and the one I’m closest to in our coven, he is after all a very old creature that with only a stare can make anyone cry and flee ‘’My order.’’ He adds eyes finding my own, voice easily filling my mind.

Is there anything you’d like to share with me? his face remains the same, whilst Seokjin lets go off me and steps away, angrily mumbling under his breath. With a glance towards Yoongi and a barely there nod Taehyung is scurrying away after Jin, meanwhile Hoseok hyung is quick to join us out of thin air it seems, settling himself on Yoongi’s right keeping an eye out.

Readjusting my clothes and posture I offer a glance towards the Prince and Y/N that’s down’s her glass and makes a goofy expression looking like she’s having the time of her life. Ignorant fool.

He wants to steal her. Literally. turning to the platinum blonde vampire he sighs heavily through his nose looking forward with his eyes narrowed.

What else?’

My lips tighten into thin lines the blonde woman from before coming into my line of sight. Shit. Cursing further I turn to the pair in the middle of the room again, watching as the prince daringly leans closer, the girl to my surprise dodging his touches, his hand now and then reaching out seemingly casual Her sword. I admit trying hard to push down the image of the two of them, and the way he wants to torture her for his own pleasure He hates your scent. But hers is starting to come out more which has him all the more curious and wanting.

Frowning as disgust raises again, I keep my eyes on the elder on my right, not missing the way his lips tug downwards. He looks displeased.

‘’Hoseok-ah.’’ With a single word and a look, Hoseok rushes away, disappearing as if he wasn’t even here in the first place. As I turn forward to look across the room ready to observe thoughts of certain vampires the blonde catches my eyes again. She’s standing much closer now but has been roped into another group of females that are clearly gossiping way to loud for their own good. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at me as of saying ‘Help.’.

‘’Your punishment will be decided on tomorrow.’’ Yoongi speaks monotone getting my attention. I quickly lower my head down in understanding, hands pulling behind my back as I take a step behind him ‘’Even though you’ve earned a pass, your actions have earned Jin hyungs anger.’’ He spares me a glance but I don’t lift my head and gaze from my shoes, the leather polished so that it reflects the closes chandelier to us in them ‘’Taehyung-ah will take care of your position while you join Namjoon and Jimin.’’

Instantly I grind my teeth together, wanting to retort back a denial but know better than to go against him especially where anyone can hear and see us in a crowd like this.

‘’So much for waiting for tomorrow.’’ I grumble squaring my shoulders, picking up on soft patting of feet the person I want to burn in hell approaching us. Hyung doesn’t reply, just keeps looking ahead instead even though I know I rubbed him the wrong way with my comment. But he also knows how I detest her. It really is a cruel punishment as he’s putting her safety onto my shoulders. I hate this so much, ugh why me?!

I was supposed to be Yoongi’s hyung backup. I was supposed to start learning to be his left-hand man, as Hoseok is always there when he needs him. But no, she had to fuck it all up didn’t see? Just by coming here she fucked up years of progress I’ve made. Years of hard work to be the best, in all categories that hyung needs me to excel at.

‘’Hello gentlemen.’’ She cheers gleefully completely unaware of what’s happening. Looking up she spares a wide grin and proceeds to drink more of her newly refiled glass, a waiter following her around since the start.

‘’Aren’t you being a bit careless with the amount of alcohol intake?’’ Yoongi asks sounding soft and affectionate, as she smacks her lips which are coloured into a nice pinker shade, that complement the soft pastel tones of her makeup. So annoyingly human.

‘’Me careless never.’’ She snorts giggling ‘’I’d offer a toast but given your current lack of beverage, I’ll keep on trooping on for the both of us.’’

‘’How courageous of you.’’

Another puzzling matter is the amount of alcohol intake. I know humans drink, but isn’t this too much? It’s getting to a lethal point for her livers at this point ‘’Continuing on my legacy firmly.’’

My frown deepens as Yoongi chuckles half amused ‘’Did you enjoy your chat with your newest admirer?’’

At this I spare him a glance. His expression hardens but he isn’t giving anything off his expression and posture relaxed and well masking his real emotions while she on the other hand muses and obviously turns back toward the Prince, that’s already staring towards us, offering a smirk. She hums and turns back crossing her right arm over her front while she bends her left holding the glass up near her face the posture making her look ridiculous as she fake toasts, the Prince mimicking the gesture right back.

‘’Very much so, he’s quite charming.’’ She confirms her eyebrows jumping expression seemingly too happy for her to actually be normal. How can she be so cheerful and easy going? Again, with the animal references but she’s a lamb set right now in a den of lions, ready to be devoured. She’s acting so oblivious, she is oblivious idiotically so, her attitude and the way she’s acting want me to tear out my hair.

‘’Did he ask you about your heritage?’’ at this question I furrow my brows as I look at hyung in confusion. Why is he asking her that? For sure he has paid attention to every word they’ve exchanged like everyone else so why the unnecessarily of talking about this out loud??

‘’Yes.’’ She taps the handle of her sword visibly ‘’But he didn’t get the memo quite yet. He did compare me to a princess nonetheless. I should add that to my resume.’’ Her voice that’s this dreamy aspect to it. Another sip of the bubbly liquid she tilts her head to the side smirking at hyung. The next word she speaks I cannot even phantom to pronounce or repeat - it sounds almost like she is making a sound, which for a moment I assume she just burped or something, but Yoongi hyung nods curtly. Did she just speak in another language?

‘’Oh!’’ she states in wonder turning around as music starts to play louder now the hired coven that acts as a smaller performing orchestra coming to life with a lively tune. Couples are quick to line up in the middle of the room, ready to dance ‘’How wonderful.’’ she mumbles to herself continuing to sip on her drink. With her back to me, I’m drawn by the expanse of her back the dip of her dress reaching just where her kidneys are. Harsher looking scars litter her skin, which are confusing by all means. They are long and overlapping. That must have taken a long time to heal. It almost makes me flinch.

Yoongi’s silence gets my attention and a desperate wish to peek into his mind, to see what storm is brewing there.

‘’Remember that one time, when you asked me to dance on your own free will??’’ the girl wonders sounding reminiscent while the vampire moves to stand in front of her. I feel as if I’m intruding the moment, so given my new position I walk over to the side, to a giant column that’s keeping the heavy roof intact above us. I’m close enough to them to intercept anyone, and far enough to stop any danger. But instead of focusing on my surroundings I listening in onto the two.

‘’…you’re not getting that. Even if you drag me.’’ hyung finishes amused, standing closer to her. Way too close that’s necessarily, the proximity bothering me. She’s going to give him a bad rep and he’s just letting her. I am surprised I have to admit, about the lightness of their conversation having fully expected them to start talking between one another in the foreign tongue that nobody knows about, which they usually converse in.

‘’Aigo Yoongi-yaah! Stubborn as ever!’’ I close my eyes for a moment just breathing in an out, my mood sour-ing all the more. Even though I’ve told her myself many times, that when addressing your elders, you need to call them appropriately she still goes against it acting dumb and continues to call hyung in a belittling way.

I don’t understand why he doesn’t correct her! Why is he letting her act like that? If it were any of us, we’d be dismembered, missing a limb for a few years. (Not us necessary I’ve seen him cause pain to lesser vampires that were causing too much chaos in the human world)

‘’It’s just one dance.’’ She tries hand sneaking around his waist the contrast between her brighter colour and his darker blue shaded Gonryongpo is a huge contrast furthering on her difference from us.

‘’It’s been centuries since I’ve danced this waltz. Can’t even remember certain steps.’’ he entertains her further. Ever since she came, I’ve seen him smile more times than I have ever before I feel like. Whenever she’s around him, there’s always a somewhat smile on his face.

‘’I’ll lead, it’s not like I’d be the first time.’’ she whispers as they both chuckles.

‘’Running an imaginary headache there Jeongguk-ah?’’ I glance up towards Namjoon hyung who smiles at me clearly loving my suffering.

‘’You could say that.’’ Looking at the girl, she’s basically nuzzling into Yoongi’s side not minding the many curious looks others are giving her in passing. Or plainly staring at the pair. I try to relax my features understanding Namjoon’s subtle words, in correcting myself my concentration having gotten the better of me.

‘’It can’t be that bad.’’ He pats me over the back reassuringly, eyes darting towards our hyung and the girl that finishes her drink once more.

‘’How can she drink so much?’’ I find myself asking silently not wanting her to hear me ‘’She’s practically killing herself as we speak.’’ Looking up at Namjoon his eyebrows are furrowed as he silently nods. He’s the one that’s most fascinated with humans out of all of us, and has studied human medicine for a lifetime a decade ago. So, he must know better than me, that her eating and drinking habits are unhealthy ‘’Ugh.’’ I groan as she slips and starts conversing in another language, Yoongi seemingly easy to follow along a concentrated expression drawing itself on his face.

‘’Pretentious.’’ I grumble, while Namjoon looks absolutely fascinated ‘’Don’t.’’ I warn as he looks between them and me, gaze fleeting for a moment as he smiles.

‘’This must be…’’ he counts on his fingers but ends up pointing a 5 in his mind ‘’…language that she seems to be fluent in. That’s utterly fascinating.’’ I can see how the wheels are spinning in his mind, picking up on She must be a linguist, that’s why Yoongi called her for this gathering.

His thoughts sort of do make sense. My gut feeling tells me otherwise, doubt quick in questioning Namjoon’s logic for I think the first time in my life. Her being human doesn’t make any sense, for her to still be here.

‘’I’m sure you’d be a better choice for that.’’ I point out ‘’Or me for the matter.’’

He immediately tsks crossing his arms as he stands more on my side, looking at me incredulously ‘’Jeon Jeongguk are you jealous?’’ he asks my gaze getting captured by the blonde woman again, having reached only a few steps away, waving at me a moment later getting roped in chatting with a girl similar to her. Both of them glance towards me and end up giggling.

‘’Never of her.’’ my reply is instant as I turn to glare at hyung in anger, his demander sort of knowing and confident.

‘’Hm sure. Whatever you say maknae.’’ He teases but straightens up once Yoongi approaches us, glancing after Y/N that has sat on the couch behind us. She frowns once she’s down, but accepts another refill the waiter dutifully doing his job.

‘’The meeting is going to start soon.’’ Hyung starts which has us both straightening up, and at attention ‘’I want you with me, I still need to go greet the Jeju coven and given that they’ve taken a liking to you…’’ he trails off smirking both of them exchanging looks. I expect the seriousness that settles over hyungs features once he turns to me, his dark red eyes fixating on me the feeling of him reading into my soul present for a brief moment ‘’Keep an eye on her. And be nice.’’ the last part is a warning because he doesn’t even spare me another glance. He’s moving away with Namjoon hyung that’s getting his head in the game mind elsewhere. I’m sure he’ll come and talk to me later in the morning after all this ordeal is done. I can’t really chase the feeling away of being unwanted for a moment.

‘’Many thanks, truly but I will have to continue with politely declining your requests.’’ Her voice is easy to pick up on as I’m left almost alone with my brothers mingling everywhere around the room and nowhere in my sight.

Taking in a deep breath I turn around spotting at least 3 men offering their hands over to the human, that has a rosiness to her cheeks at their advances.

‘’Just one quick dance, m’lady.’’ One tries persistently making me scowl and approach them. They do look at me, one straightening up immediately while the two others scoff.

‘’The lady already politely declined you already. Don’t turn yourselves into gossip for others by getting rejected thrice more, gentlemen.’’ I point out standing on her left, making sure I’m acting as a shield. The men eye me one insinuating that he’s going to do something more in his mind. But he does take a step back nodding, the two following as they offer their greetings and start to walk away. As I watch them give me the stink eye, I don’t miss the blonde that keeps appearing in my eyesight. Again, she has that innocent expression on, but this time she tilts her head to the side a clear invitation to move elsewhere more private.

‘’Thank you for that.’’ Her more croaky voice pips up. I spare her a glance, as she slumps against the couch again, her sword laid improperly over the couch and her lap ‘’Yoongi-ah told me to be nice so…’’ she trails off quietly for the first time this evening looking exasperated. But only for a moment as her lips quirk up, as a pair passes us bowing down offering a greeting going along and away.

‘’Don’t mention it.’’ I mumble slipping my hands into my trousers again the itch on following the blonde kind of present, but I’ve fucked up enough this evening to keep still and do as I was told.

‘’So, are you having any fun?’’ again she addresses me, and I don’t really see the point in this small talk. Because it’s coming from her mainly. It sounds unfair and mean but I’m getting really tired of her.

‘’Sure.’’ I find myself replying stoically as I look around, returning a smile or nod here and there, spotting some of my friends that are strewn around in the crowd.

‘’You know…’’ she starts and pauses. For a moment I get an image that she’s choking silently which has me turning sideways to look at her. But she’s just sitting there a bit un-lady like her legs spread instead of folded which she does after my brief thought ‘’…if you want to go chase after the blonde you can. I’ll be fine on my own.’’ At this I raise an eyebrow in question startled that she actually noticed that ‘’She seemed nice. Even asked about you.’’ At this new information my eyes raise to the crowd, spotting her wine-red dress near the entrance of the balcony on my sharp right.

‘’You’ve talked to her?’’ I frown turning back to the human, her lipstick that has gotten smudged all the more irks me immediately. Must have rubbed of the glass too much. She should stop drinking.

‘’Uh huh.’’ she replies licking over her lips, my eyes darting onto her own finding her staring straight at me. They look so…normal. Her eyes. So plain so, boring. It’s the first time that I’m actually standing so close to her, and yes, I’ve once been a human myself this shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does – it intrigues me more – but her eyes seem beautifully normal. ‘’She approached me initially having figured I’m with you only after Hoseok addressed me casually.’’ To her boring explanation I offer her a curt nod and turn to the crowd while she takes another sip of her drink ‘’So you can go to her, I’m sure Jiminie or someone else will be here to replace you instantly. Yoongi-ah worries too much, he always has a plan B, C, D, E and so on in mind.’’

I faintly smile at the statement for the first time agreeing with her. Hyung is very organized and ready for anything, partially thanks to Namjoon, but I bet his experience shaped him into who he is today. As for her I’m not so sure. She’s acting way to reckless right now even more than she does when it’s just us. She almost broke one of Bernini statues that Yoongi hyung is very proud of, that’s located in his study. How she did that exactly as it weights tons don’t ask me, the screaming match they’ve gotten into has left us all wondering in confusion as to how and why.

Again, breaking limbs isn’t uncommon to teach younglings lessons, but his way of dealing with her was to after the screaming match as over - rolled his eyes at her and pushed her out taking her to get ice cream. ICE CREAM!!! A child is what she is!!! Even if her mortal age is above twenties, she acts as if she’s 9. Even children of 5 are more respectful than she is.

‘’Are you trying to get rid of me?’’ I find myself asking as she shifts behind me, nails tapping over the metal. I can hear how her heart beat is slightly rushed thanks to the alcohol, her breathing remaining steady.

‘’Hm, not at all.’’ she replies quietly. I can feel her eyes on me, and I refuse to look back at her keeping my eyesight ahead. The Prince comes in sight as he finishes the dance with one of the many mistresses her has, or concubine I’m not sure what title to use with anyone anymore ‘’You’re the realest one tonight to be honest.’’ I can hear her whisper to herself clearly taking another sip after. Glancing back, she picks herself up not faltering as I’d assume, she would. She steps forward standing next to me expression serious and for a moment calculating as she scans the room. Thanks to the high heels she has on, she actually stands taller next to me. Even without them she stands tall, at a sort of an average length – it isn’t enough to tease her for her height.

The heels add an edge to her ‘’Ugh I’m too sober for this.’’ She complains silently at the Prince that starts approaching us. Luckily enough he gets distracted by another lady that literally steps in front of him. Glancing at the human girl her smile falters, eyes meeting my own ‘’If it were up to me right now I’d be upstairs, settled in that gods-sent fluffy bed and would have a controller in my hand, just annihilating one person after another either in Overwatch or I don’t know. Maybe replay Last of us.’’ At this revelation I look her up and down whilst she greets the waiter with a grin who hands her a new glass instead.

So, she plays games huh. Wouldn’t peg her to be the type but what do I care. I’m sure I’d beat her with ease, she has nothing on me.

‘’And what would you do, if I was there right next to you?’’ comes a flirty remark from an orange haired Jimin hyung that offers Y/N a golden tube of lipstick that probably matches the one on her lips. Only now I notice upon taking a closer look how her lips despite the fade-ness in the middle, how plump they actually look. Bite-able.

‘’That depends.’’ Y/N remarks back accepting the lipstick and small mirror handing him her glass, which he takes a sniff of ‘’Where would you exactly be? Next to me? Behind me?’’

I roll my eyes at her poor attempt of flirtation scrunching my nose up ‘’Why under you of course.’’ Ghhhhhhh.

She simply muses for a moment in silence, probably giving him a flirtatious smirk or something, which is a grimace I bet. With the corner of my eye I half watch as she opens up the lipstick ‘’Hm interesting proposition. Unrealistic but courageous in attempt. You think you could handle me?’’

I want to facepalm so hard it’s not even funny. Jimin the bastard he is giggles like a little girl almost, watching her intently, whilst I spot the blonde again talking with another guy, that’s clearly showing interest into her. Fuck.

‘’Oh, little mortal there’s not that much to handle from what I can see. I think I’ll take my chances without a second thought.’’ He shamelessly ogles her.

‘’Are you willing to bet on that then, Jiminie? Stick to your words?’’ she dares back. I spare him a glance surprised at seeing him faltering. Her head is angled in a way where I can’t see her expression, but I can see that she isn’t necessarily smiling. Huh.

He visibly gulps ‘’You’re trying to raise the stakes, aren’t you?’’ he muses confidence having faltered, so he settles for a cute approach smiling exaggeratively for a moment ‘’All or nothing, huh darling?’’ he’s putting out all his cards, posses, smiles, and the looks he gives her. And yet I know for sure somehow that she has him hocked around her finger. All done with a single look nonetheless. Not a lot of creatures let alone humans can get to him and here she just did. He is a touch but to crack so to speak.

‘’All or nothing.’’ she repeats recapping the lipstick and is quick to hand both items back to the pink haired man, accepting her drink back ‘’From what I just saw I’ll choose the latter, kitten.’’ The remark has me rising an eyebrow power balance shifting. Knowing very well that Jimin is a switch and that it sometimes takes him only a word or a motion to render him putty this is highly amusing and interesting indeed. And I think judging by the silence, she broke him sort of. Glancing towards him yeah if he was human, he’d be blushing all over, the puppy eyes telling me everything I need to know.

‘’Let’s get this show on the road boys.’’ she comments off handed. I miss completely as people start to gather around the middle and end up clapping, the orchestra being thanked for the wonderful tunes, a speech from the Prince ensuing. All the while I stare as Y/N down’s her drink, and gulps it like its water. Getting a whiff, I’m seriously questioning her will for life. That’s the scent of strong clean, vodka with a hint of peach in it.

She smacks her lips again and turns to me ‘’Do I look okay?’’ she asks the question completely flabbergasting me. But I do automatically take her in, head to toe. Her dress is still in place not even wrinkled. And this close up, I can see more scars which don’t deter me away anymore. The gold on her fingers, the rings add elegance to the look more completing it, and the earrings are a cheery on top not glinting much under the lighting up close. Her hairstyle the messiness I understand it, and same goes for the gentle touch on her makeup.

Looking at her lips they look perfectly drawn and arched. I dumbly nod instead, taking a glance at her sword. The blade being a kopis, has the handle curved the detailing on the grip is shaped as a pouncing lion the underside of the guard has a winged horse on each side the wings sort of creating the handle . This is the heritage they’ve talked about as the blade is traditionally Greek. She’s turning away faster than I can assess her weapon further more. I watch as she puts on a smile, letting out a heavy breath and hands of her glass to the waiter that’s ready to refill her glass.

She offers him a silent thank you, and then steps forward. It takes me a nudge from Jimin to register that I should follow after her. So, keeping up a distance but remain relatively close I mingle into the crowd keeping her at the corner of my eye at all times noticing the way the draping of her dress elegantly seems to float behind her.

I join in the clapping as we come to a stop reaching the middle of the room. I’m surprised to see Yoongi her and remain standing in the back watching as the human steps right over to his side, bowing respectfully to the elder coming from Jeju that’s the closest one next to her.

The murmurs that raise, confirm my hunch – nobody is protesting her position in their lines but they are all questioning it. Out of the gathered mass my friend Yugyeom makes and appearance across us trying lowkey to keep a surveillance of the room, but he ends up looking straight at me. Crossing my arms, I shake my head amused at his fresh blood so to speak. I know he has been put in charge of protecting, their coven’s linguist Jackson. He simply smirks in return and disappears into the crowd. The other linguist or advisors’ steps next to their elders same as Y/N did while the Prince continues on telling a war story, probably meant to inspire everyone and instead I bet it has everyone wanting to stab him or someone else to end his miserable tale.

‘’…for the future!’’ he ends his speech soon after but not soon enough. The claps arise once more, while the elders start moving towards the end of the room, where a door will lead them into another room which happens to be our grand library, expanding up into the second floor as well.

One by one they make their way inside, the Prince getting distracted by his own advisor standing near the back. But I think for the most part everyone’s attention is situated on the only being that’s not of our kin in the room. The human accepts Yoongi’s offered arm, wrapping her own around his as they follow everyone else ignoring the rumours and different expressions offered towards them.

If I had a heart, I think it would be beating out of my chest by now. My body doesn’t necessarily lack all human traits but the stillness keeps emotions hidden luckily more times than not – I feel the heaviness settle in my stomach like a boulder invading my senses. For some reason I get a bad, bad feeling about this. My anger returns as this just crosses all the lines doesn’t it. And by some snarls once the two of them pass the doors lets me know I’m not feeling this alone.

My friend’s presence next to me, stops me from reacting too strongly like some vampires do hisses and protests rising. We both watch in silence and with frowns as the party mood turns tense. Some of the more mature meaning older vampires start to protest loudly, some going towards the doors where Taehyung has settled himself, along with mainly Prince’s extra guards. There’s an official speaker that’s been left outside trying to calm and charm the defiant bunch. Hoseok and Jimin hyung aren’t far away trying to get the party started once more doing a way better job than the assigned guy. Jin and Namjoon entered the meeting as well, leaving the responsibility onto us; mine being mainly security and basically manhandling if someone turns out to act too unruly.

‘’Interesting developments.’’ Yugyeom comments quietly. Glancing over at him, the turtleneck he has on wants me to make fun of him, but this situation prevents me from doing so. Dressed all in black and with freshly dyed black hair, he looks aged somewhat. The fluorescent yellow hair he had not even a month ago made him look younger.

‘’Uh huh.’’ I simply hum tearing my eyes away from the doors and crowd ‘’I’m surprised you’re still here.’’

Sparing him a glance my friend doesn’t seem phased at my question, just snorting in response at first keeping an eye out as I do too ‘’Gotta earn my place in due time.’’ I tilt my head to the side briefly rising my head up as I smirk knowing those words all too well myself ‘’So what’s this whole infuriation thing going on with the flesh bag?’’ he asks, motioning for me to start walking. The nickname he uses for the human strikes a weird chord deep withing me. I keep silent at first, as we make our way towards the other side of the room, and the balcony that’s closest to the library. No guards are settled here, which makes it seem as a lack of good strategy having been put in place. Anyone can jump through the windows to get the elders attention – this is getting strange and not in a good way.

The terrace is illuminated by the outdoor lights, as well as the half of the moon that’s glowing above us. The chilliness of the air is welcomed, even though I literally can’t differentiate temperatures as much as I did when I was a human in a sense of them bothering me.

‘’Rumours are already spreading.’’ The vampire next to me says keeping his tone down, as he leans against the railing, offering me a cocky smirk. I frown at him, turning my back to the gardens while I glance towards the library. The wall has been built in a way that you can barely see inside. And right now, the curtains have been drawn close. So, I glance inside at the calmed down vampires, spotting newcomers. It’s easy to detect their fastened heart beats, excitement rising. The main course of the night has arrived.

‘’Oh, do tell.’’ I grunt again spotting the blonde that seems to be haunting me this whole evening. She’s dancing with a human male, that’s almost literally slobbering over her.

‘’Where to start.’’ Yugyeom chuckles clearly amused ‘’Some say, she’s just a new pet Yoongi hyung found. Some have the impression of her being his concubine seeing her skin so battered. Others speculate that the scars are from fighting, as in some being former fighting and even sword wounds. The huge scaring on her back someone said is from whipping which isn’t it kinky ey?’’ he wiggles his eyebrows snapping his fingers, acting ridiculous.

My brows furrow at new gossip, and his words and implications. Fighting wounds? Whips. I know how whips feel, how whipping…how…

With some difficulty I swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t find myself imagining her being whipped, it just doesn’t make sense. She’s to chirp and loud and, full of life to have been put through something traumatic such as whipping. The rock in my gut just seems to have been set on fire, as nerves settle more prominently.

‘’Hah yeah.’’ I fake a smile which he does buy into it and continues on.

‘’Some are into the aspect of fucking her.’’ my lips go into a thin line as he says that cheerfully ‘’I think as a fetish more or less or something I’m not sure.’’ He pauses for a moment ‘’Do you think I can have a go at her too?? If hyung is willing to share her that is. Price and all included.’’ legitimately he looks eager and suddenly hungry pupils dilating slightly.

I simply glare at him the growl grumbling in my throat unexpected and has me freezing. But he gets the hint and raises his hands up a bright grin settling over his features ‘’No harm done bro! Understood loud and clear.’’ He even winks at me raising up a finger gun acting as bad as she does ‘’Man why do all exciting things happen to you and none to me?! It’s pretty boring sometimes. You should visit sometimes.’’ He’s quick to switch the conversation tension that has risen between us deflating halfway. But it’s still present.

I love Yugyeom I really do; we grew up together when we were humans so he’s more like a real brother to me. But right now, I’m finding myself disliking him, and the way he was led to think about Y/N. I’m the first person wishing for her to just leave us alone, but I would not want her to fall into the hands of these fuckers here. Everyone that attends these sorts of gatherings hold themselves way to fucking high up, as if they are royalty. In reality we all, came from dirt – and the ones that have not are pretentious pricks that have been handed things on golden platters unfortunately.  There’s no in between in our society.

Screams raise up from the inside, fright loud and clear in the air as the invited humans try to run away. Its soon after that moans replace the terror the flip quicker than the usual. Our guests were hungrier than they led on.

‘’When all of this excitement goes down I will.’’ I promise smiling feeling my shoulders relax as the scent of blood reaches my nose. It has my friend straightening up as well shifting from one foot to another ‘’We’ve got a bet to settle, don’t we?’’

He wiggles his eyebrows chuckling, pushing himself away from the railing ‘’Wanna end it now?’’ he challenges. The bet is ridiculous and downright douche-y. I won’t go into details right now, as the nerves of the mere thought of trying at it, does the opposite of exciting me.

I shake my head at him waving my hand in dismissiveness ‘’Next time. I’ve had my fill earlier today.’’ I lie smoothly. He must be really hungry because he nods and is backing away instead of trying to wrestle me inside.

‘’Your loss bunny boy.’’ I roll my eyes as he reaches the doors ‘’More for me!’’ and with that he’s out of sight easily catching a fleeting girl twirling her around. Not wanting to see what follows, I spare a glance at a man that has another one pressed against a column, draining him hands roaming all over the human’s body who looks like he’s in pure bliss.

Another pair has settled on the ground shamelessly grinding against one another. With a bitter taste in my mouth I turn my back to all of them, and lean onto the stone railing, looking across the garden. Even though there’s so much going on behind me, I do pick up on pitter-pattering of creatures ahead of us. There’s a forest not far away from our estate, the back gardens connected to it. So many creatures do have access and roam freely around it by daylight mainly, sensing us as we sense them.

The smell of blood, and heaviness of sex whisks past me, the mixed smells raising the all too familiar itch to start scratching at my throat insistently so. Even with years of self-discipline and learning control the hard way, by being chained up most times than not it’s hard to ignore my instincts. I do want to just run in, and sink my teeth into some girl, or guy to drink them dry. This is the only time where we can do it, as usually our food comes from donors these days.

What I don’t understand is why for the first time something is holding me back. The blood doesn’t smell right, its either to sweetened or bland. Same as the noises and screams; nothing in particular arouses me, not even my own thoughts of the blonde. Her red wine dress, tugged up legs spread wide open beneath me, as I take her right where I’m standing here it’s just…I bet she’d moan nicely and beg to be fuck hard to the point before breaking. Her eyes would glow nicely wouldn’t they…

But the glow feels wrong. Her flawless skin would match my own under my palms, it wouldn’t be heated up, or fleshy to grope. Same as her melodic tone, it wouldn’t be raspy like I want it to be. Her scent is probably all wrong too, I bet she smells nothing like strawb…

‘’There you are.’’ as if I’ve called her or have pulled her straight out of my mind she’s right there at the doors. Turning around I raise an eyebrow upon seeing her, dragging another human girl that’s panting and has a leash around her neck. She visibly shivers at the change of temperature but the blonde pays her no mind ‘’You’re a hard man to catch.’’

Smirking I straighten up half turning around watching as she licks a bold stripe up the human girl’s neck making a show of it ‘’Hard to believe that. I wasn’t hiding or running away from you.’’

She muses pursing her lips, as she stands on the humans left side groping her whilst her eyes are hungrily taking me in ‘’Duty before pleasure I presume.’’

‘’Afraid so.’’ I nod in return, as the blonde whispers something in the girl’s ears. She moans hungrily eyeing the blonde that pushes her against the wall and shushes her down promising to do filthy things to her. It doesn’t take much for the human to comply, her hands flying under the skirt of her dress eyes shutting closed. My attention remains on the blonde instead as she turns around and approaches me still musing.

‘’Politics are such a bore.’’ She states standing next to me, looking across the garden ‘’Like life sometimes.’’ Looking at her she looks up at me curiously ‘’But I bet you can’t say the same.’’

‘’Hmm define the word boring.’’ I tease back her lips quirking into a smirk.

‘’Ah you know the usual. Feed, seduce, feed more and so on so on.’’ she replies stepping closer to me ‘’Now you’re turn.’’ Her hands are quick to rank up my suit jacket, nails a contrast that doesn’t go together with my outfit.

‘’Not much difference. Feed, train, feed more and train a bit more.’’ I almost neutrally reply, holding in my breath as he hands reach just beneath my collarbones abandoning my suit jacket in favour of testing out how firm my chest is.

‘’Hard to believe there’s nothing more, exciting to fill up your schedule.’’ Her eyes meet my own. And same as in my day dream, they glint briefly brightly red. She is laying all her cards on the table. And I’ve waited all night for this to happen. Granted I wanted to chase her down, like a gentleman but she’s here either way in my grasp.

Straightening up, I place my hands over her hips keeping silent for a moment further as I slide them shamelessly to grip her ass, the action having her breathing hitch. It doesn’t feel all that nice. Leaning down, I hover inches away from her thin lips shaded into a matching colour to her dress.

‘’There’s a possibility I like keeping that part of it to myself.’’ at this she arches an eyebrow showing of her sharp teeth as she smiles. As I intake a breath her scent fills my senses completely. She smells like roses, and butterscotch the combination wanting to be sweet and yet – I don’t find it nice.

It lacks that real tender sweetness, and fruitiness.

‘’Do you reveal it to only a handful of people then perhaps?’’ she breathes out eyes glowing brightly red, as I tug her left thigh upwards pressing her to myself shifting so that she can’t exactly feel me against her. I’m not hard at all. Not even semi-hard. Okay maybe a tiny bit but it’s worrisome that I’m not feeling any attraction to her anymore.

I take a look at her up and close trying to get my body to react, or convince myself to at least think that’s she’s attractive. Her blonde hair seems fake up close, features way too symmetrical and off putting for whatever reason. Her makeup is heavily put on, lines not visible. Glancing down at her body and how she’s pressed against me…the hold I have on her…it’s lacking. She’s very plain. The perfection I praised not long ago, is now just dull and uninteresting.

‘’We can share.’’ She adds probably detecting my hesitance ‘’Kitten won’t mind it once bit.’’ the nickname she uses throws me off further. Even though I do look at the human girl that’s shamelessly uncovered her lower part and is rubbing herself for us to see, moans filling the night air – it’s not convincing enough. I’d rather take the human girl for myself instead of sharing.

Grunting I let go of the blonde’s leg realizing in the back of my mind that I don’t even know her name. She looks at me with furrowed brows, as I take half a step away distancing myself.

‘’Found you!’’ a voice sings cheerfully from the doors. Both of us look towards the orange haired male, that grins widely, his mouth smeared in red ‘’Oh what do we have here.’’ He’s quick to skip over to the human, taking her in ‘’Yah Jeongguk-ah you are so selfish.’’ He pouts, running his hands over the trembling girl’s side.

‘’Jimin-ssi when I told you to beat it, I meant it. With all due respect.’’ Blondie pips up crossing her arms and looks annoyed while my hyung remains playfully touching the human girl, that’s panting louder.

‘’C c c Dahyun-ah. That’s so mean coming from such a sweet girl like yourself.’’ He pouts crowding behind the girls back. He hocks his chin over her shoulder as he gives us puppy eyes. I smirk at his antics thanking him quickly in my mind, that he was so quick to answer my call not even 2 minutes ago. Given by the silence of the blonde – or apparently Dahyun he has her hocked.

‘’Why don’t you teach her some manners hyung?’’ I propose crossing my arms as I lean back against the railing. She turns to look at me stunned mouth opening to say something, but Jimin in a bat of an eye is right there crowding into her space blocking her view away from me.

‘’I really should, shouldn’t I?’’ he growls lowly hand reaching under her chin to keep her focus on him ‘’You think you can handle it baby doll?’’

I frown instantaneous turning away eyes trailing off to the library, mind switching to the image of Y/N. Those are almost the same words that she used to tease him. Turning back to the two, they have ended making out – plain and simple. But once he opens his eyes and grins, she continues licking at him like an animal trying to get every trace of blood from his chin and cheek.

Jimin doesn’t say anything just sends me a wink and a I owe you one Jeonggukkie dragging both Dahyun and the human girl back inside in mere moments. He even closes the balcony door. A gentleman indeed.

My shoulders just sag, as I sit myself on the railing climbing over it, letting my legs hang over the edge as I stare at the moon at first watching as it lowers down slowly, orbiting around us.

What a stupid and weird night. I run my hands over my face trying to gather my thoughts that are in disarray. So much has happened, and still is happening. There are so many mysteries too, more than I thought there would be resolving one simple human. She should have stayed hidden upstairs away from everyone’s greedy gazes and thoughts, far away from the centre of anyone else’s attention. Rephrase that she should be here in the first place.

Saying she’s hyungs long term friend is stupid. I’ve known hyung over 190 years given that he was the one who saved and turned me. I’ve never seen her before; he never even mentioned her name or anything.

Even if he does have meetings in the city, there’s no way they could have hung out. Either of us would smell her on him, even if he did change clothes before coming home. Which we know he’s too lazy to go through that much trouble. He’s not hiding her away right now, meaning he didn’t give her a second thought then either.

There are so many questions to answer some completely illogical on their own.

Looking towards the library, nothing has changed. Not even the boulder in my stomach that weights me down. Something is about to happen. Changes are coming. She’s the initiator of it all. I just hope it’s not something of a downfall for us. It sure feels like it.

Part 1 / Part 2

Copyright 2020© by barbika1508. All rights reserved.

Dictionary: Wangseja - Crown prince, the son of the king who appointed as heir to the throne. Gonryongpo – Dragon Robe/ were the everyday dress of the emperors or kings of China, Korea Vietnam and the Ryukyu Kingdom. Samjeongdo - the sword given to newly promoted Korean military generals each year by the Ministry of National Defence. Kopis - a heavy knife with a forward-curving blade / the Ancient Greeks often used single-edged blades in warfare, as attested to by art and literature.

[thosequeenboys]

Super Trouper (John Deacon x Reader)

Summary:  You and John Deacon became good friends during college.  When John joins a band, you both thought it was a fun hobby - until it became more. Over the years, you each followed your own career paths and shared your love of music, staying in touch mainly through letters, as friends -- until he invites you to Queen’s show at Madison Square Garden in 1980.

A/N: This piece was written for @imcompletelylost for the Possessed by Love Event.  I was so excited to be your creator, as we have some musical interests in common that I incorporated into the story. I hope you enjoy them. The story is based on my favorite ABBA song. Thank you @yourlocalmusicalprostitute for coordinating this event.  Thank you, @warriorteam1924 for great beta reading, ideas & support.  Also thanks to @mirkwoodshewolf and @iwilltrytobereasonable for brainstorming and your terrific ideas.

Warnings:  2-parts fluff to 1-part angst.  Band and song dates may not perfectly align with the story time frames.  I hope music historians will be forgiving, and any lapses will not detract from the story.

 It’s 1971, and you and your best friend, John Deacon, were in the cafeteria line pushing your trays along the railing.  Each of you grabbed a plate of sodden fish and chips from under the orange warming lights. After four years, you still missed a good old American burger and fries, but aside from the food, attending college in London had been a great experience.

“They asked me to audition. Seem like a good gaggle of guys.” John laughed at his alliteration.

“They call themselves Queen? Like, Your Majesty?” you queried.

“Indeed,” John affirmed. “The lead singer, Freddie, is an art student. He’s drawing a crest. And there’s Brian and Roger.  They’re science students.”

“Lovely!” you enthused.

“A good distraction from studies.” John concurred. “Though they do seem quite ambitious.”

“Can’t hurt to give it a go,” you shrugged. “Though good thing you all will have those polished degrees to fall back on,” you said, only half joking.

“I am pleased to confer your degrees upon you. Congratulations to the class of 1972,”  the Dean asserted with a tight grin.  The audience broke out into polite applause.  You looked around a bit bewildered. You missed the American tradition of giddy graduates tossing their mortarboards in the air with abandon. After a quick embrace, you and John made your way to the local pub to meet up with his band mates, now considered your friends.

“So, Y/N,” Brian said, placing a beer down before you, “You’re heading back to America next year? So willing to leave our lush gardens, cultural sophistication -- and our dear friend, John?

“Not to mention, the next band destined for greatness,” Freddie declared with a broad smile as he tucked his chin slightly, his long hair falling into his face.

“Yes, well,” you took a deep breath feeling four sets of eyes upon you. “The advertising agency I worked for during school offered me a position in their New York office.  Always wanted to live in New York.  I will miss London’s beauty and culture,” your voice lilted with the faint British accent you had picked up.

“And…” Roger prompted you to respond to the end of Brian’s statement.

“And, yes, the people I’ve met,” you spat out. You shot a glance at John, and you melted as you felt his eyes meeting yours. “And the memorable times I’ve had. With them.” you added, trying to sound light, but you felt tears collecting on the rim of your eyes and you blinked to dissipate them. You knew their presence resulted from the thought of leaving the most important person to you-the lithe, long-haired brunette, whose grey eyes you were now lost in-your best friend, John. Only a friend, the last four years had established. You grabbed a napkin and subtly dabbed at your eyes.

John blinked, and his lips fell into a grin that made his eyes crinkle. “You can’t be talking about our first day as chemistry lab partners when your signature hand movements to Dancing in the Street knocked the beaker clear off the table, smashing it to a million pieces.” John smirked.

“No,” you laughed, moving past your embarrassment to counter, “I’m actually thinking about the time we stayed up all night to write our English papers and finished each other’s sentences, taking sips of beer after each successful line.”

“Some of the best writing the University has ever seen,” John deadpanned, as he looked up wistfully. “And one of the highest English scores I ever earned, legless or sober.” He added, rubbing his chin.

“There it is then,” Roger interjected.

You both looked at him mystified.

“You’ll stay in touch by writing letters. Though you’ll each have to finish your own sentences, I suppose.” Roger concluded, unleashing his playful smile.

*****

Your tight bell bottoms skimmed the floor and the loose open-neck cotton blouse with colorful embroidery flowed around your curves. You glanced at your bags piled by the door, moving over to check one to distract yourself from the impending onslaught of emotions. A soft knock interrupted your nervous efforts. You rezipped the bag as John entered and halted, taking you in.  His swallowed, and his mind revisited the thoughts he repeated to himself over the last few weeks. If only. If only this conversation could be different. If only I said something sooner. If only we wouldn’t be risking our friendship. If only you wanted this to be more. ‘If I only had the words to tell you, If you only had the time to understand. Though I know it wouldn't change your feelings, And I know you'll carry on the best you can.’ (1) You’d probably go anyway, he had concluded.

“Thanks for seeing me off,” You said, avoiding his gaze.

“I…I brought you something,” John blurted out, as his long fingers dug into the front pocket of his faded bell bottoms. He thrust a rectangular box toward you.

You forced a smile through your tense face and lifted the lid. You pulled out a delicate sterling silver chain that held a mounted luminescent grey oval stone with angular cuts that refracted blue hues.  “John, it’s…beautiful,” you said, as you reached behind your neck to fasten it.

“Here, let me,” he moved behind you, his strong fingers overlaying yours to ease the clasp, as he thought of the day he purchased the gift. Brian had accompanied John to the jewelry shop, and as they peered into the display case, Brian suddenly gasped. “Oh, a moonstone. So beautiful how it catches the light and changes colors.  This is really exquisite, John.  And, it will be a reminder that even apart, you’ll still share the same moon.”

Back to the present, John stepped in front of you and admired the gift resting splendidly between your collarbones, perfectly framed by your open blouse. “I’m not into all that crystal nonsense,” John said, “but it’s said to be a calming gemstone. And a wise man said, it will remind us that though we’re apart, we’ll be sharing the same moon.” John figured Brian wouldn’t mind him lifting his line.

“Oh John, that’s lovely,” you leaned in to hug him, and as he returned the embrace, your denim jeans pressed together and your arms pulled each other close. How could you be leaving this, him? You had to accept that nothing more was meant to be.

“Wait! I have something for you!” You pulled away suddenly, knowing time was of the essence, and reached into your bag, retrieving a long black box.  You held it out to John, who opened it quickly. He held up the beautiful pen engraved with JRD.

“Now that we’ll be writing to each other….” You indicated.

“It’s perfect.” John said his eyes shifting between you and the gift.  Before you could embrace again, a horn blared. “Cab’s here. Let me grab some bags,” John looked down, hefted two bags and headed out the door. You looked around your flat, grabbed your last suitcase and purse.  As you entered the hallway and slowly shut the door, you knew this special chapter in your life had ended.  And you hoped Roger was right: that your friendship with John would continue from afar.

*****

Sirens blared outside as you dragged yourself up the four flights of stairs.  You felt a corner of the record digging into your side through your thin fabric bag. Once inside your apartment, you pulled the record out of the beautiful jacket, and read the song list on the label.  You propped open the heavy lid of your record player and blew on the vinyl disk before placing it gingerly on the turntable.  You flipped the on switch, and the album turned rhythmically.  You carefully lifted the needle, hovering it over the fourth groove as the record turned, waiting to release it at just the right place to start the song, at just the right indentation to avoid a scratch. You steadied your fingers and eased the needle down carefully. After a beat, success! ‘Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?’ (2)  You took a deep breath as the beautiful, familiar melody consumed you, taking you on an emotional journey, flooding your small flat. You kicked off your heels, curled up on the couch and grabbed your writing kit from the side table.

Dear John,

I’m listening to Bohemian Rhapsody-on my own record player! What a work of art!  I loved your last letter describing your creative adventures with the boys at Ridge Farm. The song sums up how I’ve been feeling recently: my fantasy of working at a big ad agency has been replaced by the reality that starting out, it’s more grunt work than glamour.  Accepting that helps me stick with it. And, it calls into question, what really matters in life?  And what is Scaramouche, anyway? Ha-ha. Give the boys my love and let them know I am so proud of them and so pleased you’re all getting deserved recognition.  Too bad those hard-earned degrees are going to waste! Cheers, Y/N

Dearest Y/N,

Yes, the reception for A Night at the Opera has been a whirlwind and exceeded our wildest dreams.  Speaking of which, I had a dream we were back at Uni playing the finishing sentences game in your flat. I handed you my notebook and instead of words, there were musical notes. Probably because I’ve been writing some songs. In fact, I wrote You’re my Best Friend for you.  True story.  Yours, John

*****

Dearest Y/N,

I know we were both disappointed that we missed each other during our recent US tour. I hope your business trip was all it was supposed to be. Well, we’re back in London now, having had to cut the tour short in Boston, as Brian was very ill-and is still recovering from Hepatitis. Suffice it to say, it was very scary. But, you know him, as ill as he was, he was still writing. He was afraid we’d kick him out of the band, which we would never do. We are brothers, family.  I thought the band was just a hobby, and now I can’t imagine my life without being part of Queen.  Love to you always, John

Dear John,

My goodness, I hope Brian has recovered, and you have as well from a stressful trip. Speaking of trips, mine was…very good. I met someone special… Eric. We just clicked-about life. He’s in Boston. And get this! He was supposed to see the show you had to cancel because of Brian’s illness. He was so impressed that I knew you all ‘way back when.’ Can’t wait to see him next weekend. Not picking out the wedding gown yet….But, I did pick up Billy Joel’s early album Street Life Serenade. The Entertainer reminds me of you and the boys: ‘I am the entertainer. And I know just where I stand. Another serenader. And another long-haired band. Today I am your champion. I may have won your hearts. But I know the game, you'll forget my name. And I won't be here in another year, if I don't stay on the charts.’. Well, you don’t have to worry about the last line. You guys will be on the charts for the foreseeable future-and beyond. I also thought it was funny that he wrote, ‘if you’re gonna have a hit, you gotta make it fit, so they cut it down to 3:05.’ (3) Tell Freddie he proved that wrong with Bohemian Rhapsody! Take care and hugs to Brian. Cheers, Y/N

****

Dearest Y/N:

That’s a great song! Joel’s descriptions are certainly accurate, but they don’t capture everything. It’s been a tough time. Tensions permeate the group, and there are lots of arguments. I do think in a weird way they help to fuel creativity, but it can feel exhausting. Even though you and I are not together, I feel you with me, soothing me, steadying me. Truthfully, that helps calm me-and helps me to soothe the boys and try to keep us all focused. I hope you are happy. You’re my Best Friend. Love, John

Dear John,

I’m sure you are a great calming influence for the band. You are a stalwart trouper during tough times indeed!

Speaking of calming, your beautiful necklace has been soothing me as I try to move on from the failed love affair with my Bostonian. The line from Summer, Highland Falls sums it up: ‘How thoughtlessly we dissipate our energies. Perhaps we don’t fulfill each other’s fantasies. We are always what our situations hand us-it’s either sadness or euphoria.’ (4) It was a roller coaster of grand fun and tense irreconcilable disagreements. He was very inflexible, wanting everything on his terms. I realize everything was easy with you and me; there was a give and take.  Knowing you’re there for me – and that we share the same moon – helps.  Cheers and love, Y/N

*****

The boys were nursing warm drinks in a Munich bar, as John pulled the letter out of his jacket and scanned it again.  The boys eyed him, sensing relief that John found hard to cover.

“It’s OK to gloat, John.  Glad she dumped that selfish bloke,” Roger said. “You’ve been a trouper all these years, being a great friend to Y/N. It must be hard though.  I mean, you’ve always wanted more…”

Freddie put his beer down loudly on the table and took a commanding tone. “Enough with this letter-writing rubbish.  Now is your time, John!  Invite her to our upcoming Madison Square Garden show! YES!!! We’ll have your dressing room decorated with lights and big bouquets of fragrant flowers brought in from the nearby Flower District!  And Moet of course!” Fred’s words spilled out of him, as the images came into focus.

Roger jumped in. “We’ll arrange a limo to bring her to the show. She’ll be escorted to her front row seat-and then backstage after the show to meet you privately. Finally! You’ll tell her how you feel; ask her to move to London and….”

“Guys, wait, wait!” Brian said in a measured tone.  “This is John’s decision.  It’s a big step for him, and he…”

“Really, Dear,” Fred interrupted, trying to hold back an eye roll and a disdainful tone, “Must you be such a Dolly Downer?”  

John looked at his band mates warmly, touched that they clearly wanted what was best for him.  “Well, I do appreciate the premiere matchmaking services of Mercury-Taylor. And May is right, it’s a big step.” John hesitated. He felt he was on a precipice looking out into a sea mixed with excitement and anxiety, like waves gathering, crashing gently toward each other before rushing out at low tide. He added haltingly, “It…it may be too late.”

“Well, you won’t know unless you try.  It would be nice for you to share the same moon on the same continent,” Brian said with a wink to John.

John smiled as a lyric came to his mind, ‘You can't be everything you want to be before your time. Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight.’ (5)  “Maybe it’s my time. Our time,” he said, casting a smile at his friends.

“Wonderful! I’ll tell Miami the arrangements to be made!” Freddie said decisively.

******

Your office meeting stretched into the night, not an unusual occurrence, though the head of the firm addressing a small team of top-performing staff was unprecedented. “We have acquired a number of significant clients in London, and we will be expanding our office there.  If any of you are interested in a position, please let me know in the next two weeks.”  As the meeting ended, your colleague turned to you, “How about we let off some steam at the Palladium?” Sounded good to you. After the bouncer removed the velvet rope, you were welcomed to the club by pulsating music and lights thrown off a large disco ball hanging from the ceiling.  You entered the dance floor and started to move to the blaring beat, ‘Gimme gimme, gimme a man after midnight.’ (6) You realized it wasn’t any man you wanted. It was John.  Maybe you should take a position in London.  Maybe you and he….But you were getting ahead of yourself.  Tomorrow you’d have a front row seat at Queen’s Madison Square Garden concert and a private reunion with John afterwards. For now, as usual, you let the music envelop you and move through you, expressing your feelings.

*****

You were ready to go in a black leather miniskirt, white sleeveless tank top and your white go-go boots. Your nerves were making a cameo; as you clasped John’s necklace your fingers shook.  You entered the waiting limousine and stretched out in the back, enjoying the rare city view from a car.  It sure beat riding the subway.  Upon arrival at the VIP entrance, you were escorted to your seat.  Your stomach felt hollow, and you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe.  As you settled in, taking in the huge stage, thoughts coursed through you:  Here you were: sitting front row at Madison Square Garden, seeing Queen-a band you knew and truly admired, reuniting with John -- and hopefully clarifying your future.  You tried to push it all aside as the hot spotlights lit the stage, signaling the start of the show.

In the wing backstage, John shifted from foot to foot as he peered out onto the stage lit only by four glaring spotlights that cascaded over the smoke. He could already feel the heat from those lights, but he knew there was more to the warmth creeping through him: you were out there, and the two of you would be reunited soon. A smile bloomed across his face as he took in the roar of the crowd. ‘Suddenly I feel all right, and it's gonna be so different when I'm on the stage tonight. Tonight, the super trouper lights are gonna find me shining like the sun, smiling, having fun, feeling like a number one, Tonight the super trouper beams are gonna blind me, but I won't feel blue like I always do. 'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you.’(7)

Ratty gave the queue, and Freddie led the boys in a bounding stage entrance. John took his place behind Freddie’s piano. The powerful beams prevented him from seeing the fans, but he wasn’t blinded. He saw more clearly now than he ever had.

The show was magnificent, and after the encore, the boys met again in the stage wing, as the roadies handed them towels.  

“Your dressing room is ready!” Freddie reassured. “We snuck in a few candles, though we are violating New York City Fire Code,” he added with a wink, and glance at Roger, who tried unsuccessfully to conceal a laugh.  

Brian rolled his eyes and raised his hands dramatically in front of himself. “News Headline:  Queen burns up Madison Square Garden.  Literally.”

“For a good cause, though!” Roger defended.

“Thanks, Guys,”  John said softly, nodding to his best friends. “Wish me luck.”

John’s heart beat faster with each step down the long corridor.  As he opened the door he spotted you seated on a couch, and he gasped.  You stood, and he reached out his hand, which you took, as you swayed your hips slightly to release some nervous energy.  

“Y/N, I’d hug you but…I’m a sweaty mess,” John said, suddenly self-conscious. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You look gorgeous-you always did,” you said. “The show was fantastic!  And I love what you’ve done to the place,” you said coyly, gesturing around the romantically lit room, dotted with lush bouquets and a champagne bucket. “Who knew The Garden had such impeccable decorating taste?”

“It was Fred and Roger’s doing, actually,” He chuckled.  “Sit, sit.” He bent into the couch and still holding your hand, he eased you down with him.

You both started to speak at the same time:  “Y/N, I wanted to tell you that I….”   “John, my company has positions in the UK and I’m thinking of taking one….”

“Is that what you want? To return to London?” John asked, trying and failing to temper his excitement.

You stared at each other.  “If,” you said, gathering courage and then shaking your head to change the point. “It isn’t just work I want to return for…It’s…well, I know you probably have girls lining up, but I…”

“No.” John cut you off.  There’s never been anyone serious. There couldn’t be.  There’s only been you.  All these years.” He swallowed before continuing. “Tonight…the reason for all this, I was planning to tell you that I love you, always have, always will, and ask if you’d consider coming back to the UK.  Back home, to me….”

“Yes! A definite yes!”  You embraced with some distance between you, and John broke apart sporting a broad grin.  “Oh, Y/N!  I…. I need to shower and then we can continue our plans. I’m so happy!  And I need to tell the boys that their matchmaking efforts worked-and that as Brian said, we’ll be enjoying the moon together-from the same place.”

‘Whenever we’re together, that’s my home,’ (8) you said, letting your happy tears flow.

Song Notes

1.    If I Only Had the Words, Billy Joel

2.    Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen

3.    The Entertainer, Billy Joel

4.    Summer, Highland Falls, Billy Joel

5.    Vienna, Billy Joel

6.    Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man after Midnight), ABBA

7.    Super Trouper, ABBA

8.    You’re My Home, Billy Joel