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thedaveandkimmershow · 8 months ago

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April 5 Friday

Yesterday morning began around 8 with strategizing.

Why?

Because the sun's gone missing. The temperature dropped ten degrees. The wind's picked up a little. And sprinkles of rain are taunting us.

Leaving us with a question:

Wouldn't we be better off inside?

In the meantime, Kimmer 'n I do the hash browns 'n greek vanilla yogurt breakfast that's become an odd tradition for the week. By quarter to nine, all of us are up and reasonably aware. By 10:30 we make the call to go for a walk on the beach.

This is a Kyle thing he's got in his head so Kimmer 'n I join he and Dylan as we start down the hill, not knowing if we'll even make it through the tunnel that might be flooded. And then after that, how windy and miserably cold would it be on the beach?

We were about to find out.

So we're standing there at the tunnel entrance. At first examination, it seems flooded with water, wall to wall. Look again, though, and you spot sections of mud rising just barely above the water. Very fudgy mud... but pseudo-solid ground nevertheless.

For a moment Kimmer's seriously thinking about turning back. Kyle 'n I are wearing flip flops so I suggest Dylan, who's wearing socks and sports shoes, head back to camp while we trudge ahead. Dylan, however, is game to continue, removing his socks and shoes and, by 'n by, we all come around to continuing this adventure, squishing step by step through the tunnel.

Coming to the end facing the beach, a surprise. Instead of the tunnel floor continuing into beach sand, there's now a drop-off, a waterfall that drops the water flowing through the tunnel two to three feet below into an ever-deepening pool giving way to a channel actively being carved through beach sand all the way to the ocean. From time to time, sand along the edge of the channel will break away and fall into the relentlessly flowing water.

Fortunately for us, to the right of the water falling from the tunnel's exit, is a section where you can step a foot down onto the actual beach and continue on your way.

So we do.

At this point, the sun's trying to bluntly push through the cloud cover. It's not raining. It's not windy. It's actually not cold.

Not warm, really. But not cold.

For a moment, I take in the panorama of ocean, cliffs, mansions of the rich and anonymous.

To my right a jogger running along the surf. In the distance, massive cliffs against which the Pacific pummels itself. Up above, a wing of birds in formation approaches us, flies above us.

And then the sun breaks through.

This is a temporary state of events. The sun is shining through a hole in the clouds that itself is moving, creating a spotlight of sun moving across the beach in front of us, over us, and passed us.

Kimmer 'n I manage a few selfies in the sun before the light escapes down the beach.

After that, the boys break away on their own exploration of the surf and rock formations and tidal life. We do something similar but more like a casual stroll punctuated by photo ops.

We got a lot of pictures down in the beach. The surprise for me was discovering baby barnacles... although maybe they were baby mussels. So small, so young, I wasn't sure.

Definitely the baby sea anemone were a revelation. I didn't know they were protected (or protected themselves) in their earliest stages with bits of broken, colorful shells that fully cover their bodies as if someone had gone crazy with full coverage sprinkles. Then, as the anemone grow, the bits of broken, colorful shells are displaced by soft body.

The last surprise were all the different colors of rock we came across in various formations. Patterns of grey, for example. Green hues. Black. Red. I don't remember the variety of colors from our previous trips.

By 'n by, we make it to another part of the beach where water's streaming from inland in a constant enough flow that it erodes the beach, creating a two to three-foot drop where none existed before, a pool of water more significant than the one at the tunnel, and a channel cut through the beach in a curve down to the water, causing us to look for the best and driest place to cross like a stepping-rock. 🙂

The boys had fun with this, jumping across various sections of channel, "helping" some of the sand along the channel break off more quickly and, yes, sometimes falling on their butts from all this activity with sand that's breaking away.

In the end, the entire endeavor felt like a grade school field trip to the beach and we were the parent volunteers for the day. 🤨

Around 11:40 Kimmer realizes we've gotta get back to camp 'cause we have lunch plans for Ruby's dinner to celebrate Kyle's birthday that's due next Thursday but we're here right now.

So we turn back along the beach, across the channel, through the tunnel, quick stop to wash our feet and flip flops, up the hill, back to camp by quarter passed noon, on the road at twelve-thirty, sliding into our booth for five at quarter to one.

We're improvising off our original plan that was to have birthday dinner at Ruby's and then Kimmer's cousin and the boys would head straight to Irvine from there because of a standing schedule on Friday. Because the sun's gone missing, though, and the rain's establishing its domain, the current plan is to skip out after lunch.

We do Ruby's for an hour or so, delighting in burgers and fries and shakes, family banter, and a bit of photography out front where they have four classic cars on display. Transportation from another age.

Soon's we're back at camp, packing begins for real.

Kimmer takes her nephew aside a moment on her laptop to pick out his birthday present. He's expressed a wish for a better pillow than the one he's using that's fit for retirement. They check out Amazon and settle on seemingly just the right style that'll arrive the next day. Afterward, Kimmer writes an involved non-birthday birthday card that Kyle appreciates for its non-birthdayness. ☺️

At quarter to three, Kimmer's cousin's gotta head out without the trailer 'cause he's got a tool he's gotta pick up. So he's gonna be making a couple trips to his home.

This is the first.

Meanwhile, the boys begin taking down and folding their tent despite the wind picking up. It's an annoying task but, once they take up their folding task in front of our van where there's hardly any wind, they get the job done.

In the meantime, Kimmer 'n I have retired to the van where she continues her studies and I begin the involved task of tweaking the day's photographs.

Once the boys are all done, though, they join us for a game of Uno Attacks! because they've yet to sit down for cards with Kimmer.

After Kimmer resets our bed into a table 'n comfy benches area where we'll sit down to play, we all pile into the van where the games begin without interference from the wind or the rain.

Derek rolls in quarter after four just after I take a massive beating at the hands of Kimmer, Kyle, and Dylan who each play plus-two cards at me to add a total of six new cards to an already full hand. Not that that's the end of the world, it's just that Kimmer put down her plus-two then Kyle put down his plus-two then Dylan put down his plus-two in a plot twist that defies all logic.

Plus it seemed quite personal with everyone ganging up like that. 🤨☹️🤬

Later, though, I make a magnificent comeback, calling out "Uno!!!" when finally I'm down to one card and everyone's still holding four to six.

Then Dylan plays his swap-hands card and now I'm the one holding four cards while he's the one calling 'Uno" like a boss.

He wins a coupla minutes later.

All in all it was a severely epic game. Aside from the ups and downs and knives in the back, we went through the full deck once and then, after reshuffling the discards and putting them in play again, we went through a quarter more of that deck before the game came to its merciful end.

It was a long game, is what transpired.

A loooooooooong long game.

By the end I could hardly concentrate. For a minute there I almost thought we were playing Go Fish again.

Anyway...

The game wraps, Kimmer's cousin returns, and the rest of our camp is packed up, leaving us with the awning over the picnic table.

We won't be bringing that awning back with us, by the way. It's pretty much done for after fifteen years of consistent use along the ocean, near lakes, in forests, and out in the desert. So when we're done and ready to leave, we'll collapse it and throw it away.

For now, we're waving our family a fare-thee-well as they take to the road, teardrop trailer in tow.

We even run over to the road they'll use as they loop around so we can wave to them some more.

And then they're away.

We walk back to our van and back it up to the picnic table and tarp. Then we settle down inside at the table again, splitting a beer and hummus and rice chips while Kimmer studies and I continue tweaking the day's photographs including the family snaps I took before Derek and the boys took off.

While we're inside, the weather does a number of things. At five thirty the sun appears briefly on its way down and I take a couple photographs of the van with our travel companion, Oatmeal Bear, seated on the dashboard between the steering wheel and the windshield.

With the weather seemingly cooperating, Kimmer takes the opportunity to reorganize all of our stuff in the van so it makes more sense.

Then, back to our table we go and the weather gets worse.

More rain. More wind.

It gets darker outside.

Nighttime. Falling.

And all our tech needs repowering. Everything's running out of juice and this.

Is not going well.

So we kick around the idea of leaving now, not the next day. There's a little friction in the decision-making because we're bailing on a certain amount of money we paid that we won't get back. So we call Kimmer's cousin around quarter past seven and he laaaaaaaaaaaaughs.

Because he knew it.

And tells us to get over there.

Now.

All we have to do before we leave is toss the awning. All we have to do is remove the fabric and collapse the metal frame.

No sweat.

Only...

We actually can't figure out how to collapse the metal frame opting, ultimately, for breaking it and forcibly bending and twisting pieces off and forcing all of it into an awkward metal pile heaved into one of those big trash containers with the black plastic lids you usually see out back of restaurants and grocery stores.

Got one of my fingers pinched along the way but we got 'er done.

Eventually.

And in the rain.

Quarter to eight we're on the road to Trade Joe's to grab some dinner we'll heat up later.

On our way into the store I ask Kimmer if we need to pick up some water as well because we're almost out. And she says

"No. We're not camping anymore."

In my mind, that statement marks the end of our camping experience this week.

So we arrive back at her cousin's place around eight forty-five, loading our personal bags and food from the van into the house before parking the van on the street.

By this time, Kimmer's cousin is bringing his day to a close so we don't see him much before he goess to bed.

In no time, Kimmer's got our Trader Joe's meat pies up and running and we settle on the couch with Kyle who's recommending we watch a show he 'n Kimmer watched the last time she was here.

The AppleTV series, "Shrinking".

Halfway through the first five shows, we hit Pause and I put together bowls of strawberries, ice cream, and whipped cream for everyone. No ice cream for Kyle, though, because he says ice cream and whipped cream don't go together.

Whatever. 😑

By the time I finish the fifth episode around quarter passed midnight, Kimmer's already in bed.

And Kyle's asleep.

He's actually asleep even though I thought he was watching the show with me this whole time.

So I put our bowls away.

Turn out the lights.

And walk up the stairs to go to bed.

🙂

#vacation #irvine #laguna beach #moro campground #beach combing

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rjalker · 3 years ago

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[ID: Ten images, all different versions of the first, with the others cropped, with added text and diagrams to show different parts.

The main image is a simple digital drawing of a body of water that has been separated into sections using rocks, with part in the foreground with darker, deeper water than the ones next to and behind it. All of the water is brown, with the shallowest almost golden in color as the sun rises from the bare trees in the background, rising on brown hills. The edge of the sun is visible as a ball of white coming up behind the trees, and the sky is in a gradient from pink at the bottom, to green, and to blue at the upper edges of the picture.

The trees are casting long shadows onto the water.

The next nine images are cropped versions of the original, showing only the water, and the very bottom trunks of the trees.

The first three have black arrows drawn across the water. The first also has a dotted line drawn across the middle of the pond. The arrow goes towards it, then turns around to go back the way it started, and is marked, “they die”.

The second has the arrow going all the way across to the other side, and is marked, “you die”.

The third has the arrow go all the way across, then turn around and go back, and is marked, “you both live”.

The next version shows just the cropped image of the pond, without anything extra added. The next shows the pond, with green, yellow, orange, and red highlights added overtop. The outer layer next to the rock dam is marked green. the area further in is marked in yellow, further in than that is marked orange, and the very middle of the pond is marked red, then darker red.

The next three have sections of the lave outlined in black, and filled in with diagonal lines, minus the highlighted colors, but in the same area.

The green part is marked, “You’re fine”.

The yellow and orange part is marked, “turn around now”, with now underlined for emphasis.

The red part is marked, “yeah, you’re dead”.

The last image has a stick figure drawing of a small boat drawn into the middle of the pond, with one stick figure person in the boat, and another in the water. The person in the water is standing, holding up curved paddles shaped like bat wings. The person in the water has their arms lifted to the boat, shouting, “fuck you”.

An arrow points to the person in the boat, and reads, “he’s a peice of shit”.

Large text across the bottom reads in parenthesis, “not to scale, they’re too big but it’s a work in progress”.

End ID.]

The pond from the original Brain Worms dream since I found the original post and suddenly remembered exactly what it looked like!

It was part of a river that went through a forest, and part of it had been sectioned off with rocks to make a dam so that the water was deeper. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, the Serial Killer Dude (SKD) from my dream did that as part of his evil plan to kidnap and murder people.

The water in the deeper part rose to the edges of the rock wall, and went over a little at a time because of the current of the river, but never fast enough to get it back to its normal level.

I can only assume that SKD fucking with it like this is the reason that swimming in this area without already being bonded is now dangerous, but the dream didn’t elaborate.

The first set of rules - swimming to the middle and turning around, swimming across and getting out, and swimming across and then swimming back, are the normal rules for the magic, they didn’t change. Those apply after you’ve started to bond with a Brain Worm, when you’re in Stage 3™.

If you swim halfway out and then turn around, the Brain Worm’s mind will die, but you get to keep their body and your mind. So you can now leave your body whenever you want to go around as a Brain Worm, which would mostly be helpful for swimming. Your body will magically be kept alive while you’re not in it, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it drowning. When your body eventually dies of old age (assuming you’re actively using it), you can either go back to the pond and live with the rest of the Brain Worms, or you can find another host and hope they’re not going to kill you when they swim into the water. You could also just discard your body whenever you wanted, it’s not like you have to keep it. You are now pretty much immortal unless you’re killed, since Brain Worms don’t die of old age, they’ll just eventually lose their colors.

If you swim across the whole thing, and climb out on the other side, your mind will die, but the Brain Worm and your body will live, and they’ll get to keep your body if they want it, or they can just go back under water again. Same rules apply as above, they can keep or discard your body as they please, find a new host whenever they feel like it, ect.

If you swim across all the way, and then swim all the way back, you both get to live. Your mind is stored in their body until they die, so you can both leave your body and wander around as a Brain Worm, and you’ll both share control over both bodies, though when you’re not in your body it still goes into a magical coma/stasis. When your body eventually dies you can both leave to go back to the pond or find another host or do whatever, and if you do decide to find a new host, it’ll be the three of you instead of two sharing the two bodies, and on and on with however many hosts you take. There is no limit to how many people can be bonded at once, though if nothing goes wrong it takes forever, since most people are bonded for a normal human lifespan before their body dies and they decide to find someone else.

If you don’t get in the water at all, you both die. Sucks to be you.

The danger zones don’t exist normally, it’s only because SKD’s been fucking with the natural geography(?) of the pond. The river is meant to be flowing normally over top of the entrance to the under water cave so that they can get oxygen and nutrients and fish and stuff, but since he built a dam, he’s fucking up all kinds of shit in the water, and attacking them whenever they come to the surface to try and negotiate, so now they’ve started attacking whenever anyone or anything goes in there, since they’re being constantly attacked and their sources of food sabotaged. They’re pretty much under siege.

If the river were running normally, it would be perfectly safe to go swimming in their area, but while the dam is there, you’re more likely to get murdered in revenge since they can’t tell the difference between you and SKD. They aren’t able to just break the dam themselves because it’s reinforced with magic, so even if they all worked together, they couldn’t push any of the rocks out of place. And they could technically just leave through the cave, but if they can’t bring any supplies with them, they can’t survive the (very, very long) trip to the next city.

SKD is kidnapping humans, and chucking them into the middle of the lake so that the Brain Worms come to the surface to try to fight, and then he catches everyone in a magical net. This stopped being effective after the first time he did it, since the Brain Worms aren’t idiots and they aren’t going to swim into a trap twice. But he keeps doing stuff to piss them off, so the more hot-headed and inexperience's ones will be tempted to come after him anyways.

Quartz along with many other people got captured the first time he did his trick, and She Whose Name I Did Not Learn got captured much more recently, which she did on purpose so that she could find out what was happening to the ones he’d already taken and try to rescue them.

#long post #Rjalker does art #dream art #from 2019 #I found the original post and suddenly remembered exactly what it looked like #because I remember tripping over the rocks on the wall as an example as the dream was explaining the rules #Rjalker's Brain Worms #Rjalker does NaNoWriMo #Rjalker's OCs #Rjalker's Actual Book Universe #Mavis and Quartz #and her Brain Worm Quartz #Worm for Brains Mavis Werther

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berlynn-wohl · 2 years ago

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A Long And Winding Post

Lately I've been getting back into a thing that was my special interest in the 90s -- before I had access to the World Wide Web, and way before the internet could be used by anyone to get an instant answer to any question or to immediately access any piece of media ever created. It’s been interesting to think of the difference in how I was able to be a fan in those days, versus now. While I would not necessarily want to go back to a time when I was unable to (for example) hold a phone up to a speaker to find out what song was playing, the appeal of that time lay partly in always being surrounded by ~mysteries~. In every fandom, some recordings, film clips, and books were the stuff of legend, because they were out of print or otherwise essentially inaccessible. It was a time when every trip to the library or video rental place or record store or book store was an adventure that might yield a rare and precious physical media treasure. Being a fan in the pre-web era was laden with the suspense of the hunt and the ecstasy of acquisition.

Anyway, stand back because I’m about to make up a guy:

Let's say you were born in 1963. You're too young to remember seeing the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show but old enough to remember hearing the news that they'd broken up. Perhaps you have an older sibling or a cool aunt or uncle who plays Beatle records for you, while your pre-teen peers are listening to the Osmonds and David Cassidy, and while the radio is playing Elton John and Jefferson Starship. But being a Beatles devotee in the 1970s is to be in a veritable media desert: Not only are there no new Beatles albums anymore, there are no documentaries to watch on television, there are no biographies being published. There’s no way to watch old film clips or television appearances. Maybe a second-run theater will show A Hard Day’s Night one weekend, but other than that it's just you and your records, which you play religiously, studiously, straining to notice and appreciate every experimental effect, every shriek and mew and swirl.

Sometimes you pick up a rock music magazine that speculates that the Beatles were overrated, not as musically talented or socially important as people naively thought in the 60s. This is partly because every thought or feeling that young people had in the 60s is increasingly being regarded as childishly naïve, but also partly because the new music being released by ex-Beatles is, for the most part, underwhelming. Once you have acquired all the Beatles records, to satisfy your desire for more of their music, you dutifully buy Walls and Bridges or London Town, but there is no magic there, and while you dream that someday the Beatles might get back together, you start to wonder, were that to happen, if that same spark could ever ignite again. It seems that even the Beatles are not immune to the malaise, the disillusionment, and the aimlessness of the 70s. Your earliest memories are of a world that seemed on the precipice of something exciting, a great change, an upheaval whose violence would give way to peace. But Vietnam, Watergate, an economic crisis, and the drugged-out surge of hedonism and nihilism exemplified by punk and disco make those days seem very, very far away.

And then, when it's cold and the days are short and you are seventeen, you hear the news that John Lennon has been murdered. The shock and disbelief is multi-layered. This is not the death of one man, a husband and father and friend. This is the moment when you, and everyone else, truly understands that the 60s are over. There was a better time when people dreamed of a different world, and you just barely missed experiencing it. Now that dream is over.

You are angry, furiously angry at the senselessness of Lennon's murder. You scream and weep and curse the lunatic who could not possibly have understood what harm he did to the world by committing this act. And you are not alone in feeling this way. But from this anger comes love: the love that the whole world had for the Beatles, which had lain dormant for ten years, now stirs from its slumber. Journalists, insiders, and hangers-on take advantage with new biographies and memoirs. There are new things to watch and read and learn and discover. You're particularly in luck if you believe that John Lennon was the only true artist and genius in the Beatles, because that narrative, already pervasive in the 70s, goes into overdrive now that his life has been cut tragically short. And you're not immune -- you feel guilty and ungrateful for never thinking very highly of his solo albums, now that you know he will never have the chance to make another one.

Years go by, and the world settles back down into its occupation with the present. On this day, you are not listening to the oldies or classic rock station; you're driving in your car, tuned in to Top 40. Prince, Tina Turner, Lionel Richie. Some songs you enjoy, others you don’t care for, but are too focused on traffic to search for something more appealing on the dial. And then you hear a voice that hasn't been heard on Top 40 radio in four years: a reedy tenor that you identify instantly as John Lennon's. Your heart seizes. Your first silly thought is, Were you somehow misinformed all this time? Is John Lennon actually alive? But in an instant, of course, you dismiss this thought. Obviously he is not alive. This must just be a demo someone dug up and dusted off, though not before adding some synthesizers and a drum machine. But the glossy contemporary production does nothing to dilute the thrill of hearing the signature sound: miserably personal lyrics punctuated by the keening final word that jumps an octave at the end of each couplet. You struggle to memorize each line as it tumbles forth: "Ever since you been leaving me / I been wanting to diiieee."

The rush of emotion makes you dash for the nearest parking lot, so you can get your shaking hands off the steering wheel and focus on what you're hearing. "It's much too late for goodbyes," he sings, and you slump to one side, your temple pressed against the window, and you weep. How cruel of some money-grubbing record executive to have this song fixed up and released, to have John's ironic foresight inflicted upon unsuspecting fans who still believe in what he attempted, in vain, to instill in us, and himself.

At the end of the song, you wait for the DJ to identify and explain what you just heard, but instead you hear the lazy opening waahh-waahh of "I Just Called To Say I Love You." You sit patiently through it, but are rewarded only with a commercial for a car dealership.

The new John Lennon song might remain a mystery for hours, or for weeks. It depends on what it occurs to you to do. You might call up the radio station, and ask what song they just played. You might walk into a record store and see what happens when you ask for "the new John Lennon song." In this case, all you think to do is ask your friends if they have heard this song as well -- and you receive in reply only quizzical looks. You wait to hear it named when it's played again on the radio, but ultimately the mystery is solved days later, when you hear a snippet of it from the other room when your roommate is channel-surfing. He skipped past MTV, being uninterested in clips that do not feature either Van Halen or a half-naked video vixen or both, but you rush in and tell him to change the channel back, until you see the last moments of a starling image: a pale young man with stylishly unkempt hair and a startlingly familiar aquiline nose and soft, myopic gaze. But he's not John Lennon. The credits that pop up in the corner of the screen as the image fades out identify this man as Lennon's elder son, Julian.

You feel no relief now that the mystery has been solved. A new churn of emotions unsettles you. The first thing you remember is that Julian is your age. While you'd known this for years, you hadn't seen a picture of him that was taken after 1970 or so, and so in your mind he has remained a child. Here he is now, old enough to follow in his father's footsteps -- not only choosing professional musicianship, but also, it seems, similarly inclined to process his parental trauma for a worldwide audience. The snippets of lyrics you remember hearing in the car are newly haunting -- "Too Late For Goodbyes", it turns out, is not a breakup song.

What does Julian Lennon's emergence into the public eye mean? Is it more meaningful that he so resembles his father in voice and appearance? Is this deliberate on his part, an affectation to secure wider appeal? Or does he feel imprisoned in his body, doomed to be perceived as his father’s weak shadow? You could talk to your friends about it, but they're not particularly interested in the Beatles. Perhaps in a week or two there will be a feature about him in the new issue of Rolling Stone, or an interview segment on Entertainment Tonight. Journalists are always happy to tell you how you should feel about music and the people who make it. But barring a chance encounter with another Beatles fan who has the time for a long chat, this is something you're going to have to ruminate on by yourself, and to yourself.

#the beatles #john lennon

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sylverstorms · 4 years ago

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Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.7

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

Cassandra gradually starts taking up more of your time. Or, more accurately, demands it like it’s her birthright.

Every day, you wake her up with a kiss to her shoulder or neck and a whisper of her name. She comes to you when she’s bored at random times during your shifts, to either talk –complain— about her sisters or to outright distract you. There are times at night when you’ll feel the chill of her slip into your bed and press up against your back, but she’s always gone by morning light, like a dream.

She used to be just another component to your nightmares. Now… she’s what takes them away.

And you’re afraid.

That you’re growing to like the time with her while she’s just playing around, that it will cut that much deeper when you find yourself on the end on her sickle. Because how else can it end, you reason, between the two of you?

The thought momentarily makes your liplock with Cassandra taste bitter, despite the sweet strawberry taste of her lip balm -and no way she’s putting that on for you, right?

She has you pressed deep into a plush armchair with her palm on your chest, while her thighs are locked tight on either side of yours. You want to tell her that you should stop –both because you’re literally in the open and anyone can walk in on you and because it’s late—but her lips are doing wicked things to your neck and you can’t find your voice long enough.

When Cassandra starts grinding down on you though, rather impatiently too, you have to speak up before she starts something neither of you can finish.

“Cassandra.” you say breathily. A sharp nip comes over your pulse, then slippery lips close around the area. “Ah! Cassandra. You’ll be late for dinner.”

She tsks and pulls back, expression much like a kid that got her hand slapped away from the cookie jar. She dismounts you with the same sour look, smoothing down her robes.

“Walk me there.” she orders.

You rise and fall into step beside her, trying not to linger on how strange it feels. It should be nothing, really, considering all the activities the two of you nightly indulge in, but it’s… something.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically quiet, keeps gazing out the windows as though calculating or pinpointing something while you make your way to the dining room.

She comes to a sudden halt just before you reach it, turns to you, steals a quick kiss and then quickly leaves you behind, a colder aura about her as she strolls inside.

You hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice, but not what she says. Once a few minutes have passed and you can safely blend into the background, you join the other maids on standby within.

You used to hate it here. Having them all in front of you like that, serving them wine, when they’re all to blame for taking any semblance of normalcy out of your life. You never glance at what they’re eating. You still dislike dinner time.

But.

When Alcina makes a snide comment about Heisenberg and you hear Cassandra’s laugh above Daniela’s giggle and Bela’s chuckle…

It no longer seems so bad.

“Bela, stay a moment.” Cassandra says after Lady Dimitrescu leaves with Daniela in tow.

“Oh, no.” The blonde huffs under her hood.

“I didn’t say anything. Yet.” The younger sibling raises her hands in exasperation.

“When you go ‘Bela~’” You bite your lip to keep your expression neutral as you’re cleaning the table because hearing the normally stoic sister mimic Cassandra’s voice like that is just plain gold. “It’s never good.” her tone turns flat once more.

Cassandra very pointedly rolls her pretty eyes. “I need you to cover for me.”

“See?” Bela sighs. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, it wasn’t really a question, I was just trying to give you the illusion of choice.” Cassandra shrugs. “I’m going out tonight.”

“What?” Bela damn near hisses. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s fine it’s, like, thirteen degrees.”

“How is that fine?”

The elder sister’s gaze then flits to you. There is no other maid in the vicinity that can overhear them, but she’s clearly uncomfortable with you picking up the implications of their conversation.

You still don’t get it. You guessed their aversion to sunlight has to do with their mutations… but why would the cold be an issue?

The survivor in you wants to know more. To know if this is something that can be used to your advantage when the time and circumstances are right for a potential escape.

Another part of you… just plain worries.

“I know what I’m doing.” Cassandra says, stern.

“Then you’re doing it alone.” Bela turns to leave…

Except.

“Oh, well. Guess mother should know about that little maid you’ve been orbiting around, lately.” Cassandra comments. “The one you even did a favor for? Just imagine her disappointment in you, the shining example of the family, stooping so low.”

Bela’s back goes rod-straight. The piercing look she sends Cassandra sends ice down your spine. You think she’s going to pounce… yet she exhales.

“One. Hour.” Bela states. “If you’re not back in one hour I’m coming to drag your sorry behind to mother. And she—” A gloved finger points directly to you, “Won’t be coming back with you in one piece.”

Wait.

What?

You didn’t know Cassandra planned to take you with her. But she didn’t deny it when Bela pointed to you. After her sister left, all she said was: ‘Dress well.’

Which brings you to your current position, pacing by the entrance hall of the castle, in a warm coat and two layers of clothes underneath. You turn to look behind when you finally hear her steps descending the staircase.

And— you freeze.

Because Cassandra is not wearing her usual robes. She’s dressed in all black, yes, but the outfit is tight on her form, fitting every curve, hugging her wonderful legs like a second skin. She’s wearing knee-high boots instead of heels and her hooded, gothic overcoat reaches down to mid-thigh.

There’s not a single patch of her skin visible other than her face… and you can’t, for the life of you, explain why it’s that hot.

“You’re staring, plaything.” she chastises, yet doesn’t sound like she minds. Rather, she’s smirking.

“Uh—” you can’t really form words.

“We need to hurry, clock’s ticking.” she says as she jiggles the very key you’ve looked everywhere during work hours for. The key to freedom. To leaving the castle.

Cassandra double-checks her clothes before she opens the door. You file it as useful information for later as you hurry to catch up to her.

The path to the village –or what’s left of it— through the forest is… difficult. Mainly because Cassandra is entirely unbothered by any and all obstacles and moves like she’s on a walkway, leaving you to fight with every rock hidden in the snow.

You manage. Somehow.

Until a distant howl makes you jump and quite literally crash into her side.

Cassandra laughs. It’s a clear, beautiful sound in the dead of night. “My, my. Scared of a Lycan in my presence?”

“I thought it was just a regular wolf!” You whisper, mortified.

Yellow eyes blink at you. Then her gloved hand raises to yours, taking it in a secure grip. You didn’t realize you were shaking, yet the tremors quickly cease when she does that. It’s just your heart that still feels like it’s going to give out on you, but for an entirely different reason, now.

Cassandra safely leads you to the village. It looks more or less the same, except empty, void of life. You don’t linger on memories. You don’t.

“Show me your house.” she says.

You never thought you’d be tracing the steps of your front porch so soon. You only have to push the door for it to open. And the inside is just as you remembered. A quaint little house. It’s simply not… home, anymore.

Nothing is.

Maybe nothing ever was.

And the thought makes a thin, cracked wall inside you finally give. Cassandra is saying something a few paces behind you, but your vision has blurred, your eyes sting and hot, salty rivers roll past your lids.

“Are you listening to me?” she asks. “...Plaything?”

You can’t talk. If you do, you’ll sob and break to pieces on the floor like a pushed glass statue.

Cassandra’s grip is tight and demanding on your elbow when her fingers curl above it, but she turns you with gentleness you’d never think her capable of. You do not meet her eyes.

Her other hand comes up to your neck.

You can’t, you can’t—

“Alexia.”

Your eyes snap to hers when she says it, from the shock. You didn’t think she even knew your name. Cassandra shifts her weight from one leg to the other, then seems to decide on something and wipes the tears beading at your chin away with her thumb.

“Pack what you wish. We don’t have long.”

As you turn into your bedroom and open your wardrobe to pack a few clothes into a bag, just to feel a tad more yourself when you’re in your room in the castle, the sound of your name falling from her lips follows you.

Haunts you.

You have half a mind to get your mp3, phone and chargers before you return to her. Cassandra is holding whatever she wanted to get from the village in a box tucked between her arm and body.

“Come.” she orders. Her hand settles on your elbow again and practically drags you along.

You don’t talk on your way back to the castle.

From one of the many windows overlooking the front yard, you spot Bela’s eyes on the two of you until she retreats into the shadows. Rigidly, Cassandra enters and immediately goes by the large fireplace to warm up. You only then notice how much more fluid her movements get. Or rather, how sluggish she was during the trip.

You shut the door and turn the key and realize it’s much easier to handle your situation when you’re the one locking yourself inside.

You take off your coat and scarf, then make to head for your bedroom —according to your calculations you’ll only get 3 hours of sleep— until… you notice how cold Cassandra looks.

She’s one step away from hugging the flames. And you can still hear her call you by your name in your head.

Great. Another thing to keep me up at night. You think as you approach her.

Slowly, so as to not scare her, you slip your arms around her slim waist from behind. She’s like a block of ice in your embrace, at first. Her body thaws gradually, to the point she’s fully relaxed against you.

“Thank you for today.” the words don’t come easy –they’re like pulling teeth— but you manage to get them out clearly enough.

“You’ll thank me in very many ways, plaything.” she says. “Having your own belongings in the castle is not a privilege any maid gets. But.” her voice, although quiet, hardens the slightest amount. “If, despite my generosity, you harbor dreams of escape… I will turn them to nightmares.”

Your blood goes cold in your veins. You can only nod against her shoulder.

Cassandra turns in your arms to look at you.

“And if you ever try to leave me alone here… I will find you and kill you myself.”

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #resident evil village #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #fanfiction #because i've read on spoilers of sadness and heartbreak and we all need something soft to take the pain away #cue our fav pillow princess being mega darling to her girl

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illumilu · 4 years ago

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there’s only one bed” - illumi zoldyck x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? cringe makes the world go round. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this way too long again, but who cares?? this time it’s with illumi! aka loml ...

summary: after a lengthy car trip, you arrive at the hotel with illumi, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. including: you dreaming abt him when he’s literally right in front of you (embarrassing). this is part two of a three-part series, with the adultrio. hisoka is already written and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! only on your part though, since illumi is basically awkwardness personified... no nsfw <3

illumi zoldyck:

- the trip to the hotel had taken 6 hours. 6 hours in which you had fallen asleep multiple times, cramped your legs, somehow made every sleeping position dangerously uncomfortable, cracked your neck and twisted your back, possibly to the point of no return.

- for mr zoldyck, or rather, “illumi”, as he had instructed you to call him, the trip was no problem. his upbringing, which consisted of mainly torture, included staying awake for as long as a fortnight at a time. 6 hours may as well have been a few minutes.

- “the silent son of the zoldycks” was his reputational nickname, or, rather, “lifeless koi fish”, as your friend, hisoka, enjoyed calling him. either way, illumi was not going to let a car ride tire him.

- when you had first met him, he had scared you. a lot. the entire “trained dangerous traumatised assassin” storyline was one that felt like a threat. you were undoubtedly taking a risk by working with him, but it was one you were willing to; it may have been twisted, but murder was your forte, and you were searching for a partner.

- over time, you had grown to be less intimidated by him.

- you were now colleagues with him, working on a new assassination.

- shockingly, planning murder took time, and who better to plan it with than the assassin himself? you had spent the past day on a “business trip”, paid for by illumi’s grandfather, where you sized up the area and familiarised yourself with yorknew.

- all for the big night.

- tonight was the day before the murder of the ten dons.

- illumi and kalluto would carry out the murder, while you made sure everything went smoothly, via a small mic attached to his clothes. the entire operation was based on trust, and would therefore be executed like clockwork.

- you had taken the necessary mental images and kept the targets in mind; all that was left was a night at a pre-booked hotel and then it would be go-time.

- you had assumed that the hotel would be high-class, with doormen, perhaps some marble flooring and pillars - it was the zoldycks who were paying, after all, and you knew they had money to spare.

- “we’re here.” illumi stated blankly, face reflecting in the window. admittedly, he did look a little bit like a koi fish.

- you nudged past him to look out of the window, leaning over to get a good view.

- oh.

- it seemed you had made quite the overestimation. it was a simple, plain building with a few stories. no doormen or extravagance could be sighted.

- you supposed keeping a low profile was important, but the depressing accommodation was somehow making you wearier.

- the two of you didn’t exchange any conversation on the way up to your room, but you were used to that.

- you and illumi had met around 5 months ago, and most of it had been comfortable silence. you hadn’t expected it to be like that - in all honesty, you had expected him to kill you - but illumi seemed... calm around you.

- it was probably because you shared such an odd passion with him; the logistics of murder. you assumed it gave him a chance to loosen his harsh demeanour and enjoy himself. the both of you had worked on multiple murders together, focusing on theory and planning, but this was a huge assassination. nevertheless, you knew he could pull it off; illumi was smart, you had to give him that.

- finally, you arrived at your hotel room, sighing from the lengthy stairway winding up to your unnecessarily high room. you assumed it was for safety purposes, but for god’s sake; why did safety have to be so enervating?

- illumi pushed the door open, and you walked in with him. finally, you could catch some rest.

- except, you couldn’t.

- a singular bed placed in the middle of the room.

- “why.” you thought to yourself tiredly.

- you stood there silently, waiting for him to say something.

- then, you remembered that he was illumi. he obviously wouldn’t see anything wrong with the situation.

- the bastard.

- it didn’t help that he gave you no visible reaction when you stared at him with your face scrunched up expectantly, as if to ask what his plan was.

- “is there a problem, y/n?” illumi asked, his tone flat as usual.

- you took a deep, worn out breath, clearing your throat.

- after a bit, you shook your head. this was strictly professional. illumi wouldn’t do anything, because he was illumi. nothing would happen.this was an important night, where rest and a clear mind were essential. blame it on the fatigue, and nothing else. you were just exhausted. there was nothing else to it. nothing.

- “no. i’m just a little tired.” you dismissed.

- a silence skimmed past.

- “my grandfather... he often tends to be absentminded. occasionally, he forgets to do certain things, or plan them correctly, i suppose. you could say this is a prime example of such.”

- “zeno forgot another goddamn bed, hm?” you laughed nervously.

- illumi stared at you once again, blinking a few times, in a methodical manner, face neutral and robotic. you smiled awkwardly and remembered that he was not one to laugh at jokes. or anything, for that matter.

- you wondered if he laughed at bloodshed. or maybe hisoka.

- “i’m going to... go to set up my stuff now.”

- turning your back to illumi, you winced at the uncomfortable air. even after all your time with him, you never learnt to stop trying to lighten the mood. the mood was literally just always unnatural, in some way. that was another one of illumi’s specialties.

- after some time, in which you had finalized tomorrow's plan and each changed into comfortable clothes, you watched illumi tie his hair up from across the room.

- his hair had always fascinated you.

- you had always wanted to touch it. honestly, even when you had first met him, apart from his magnetic eyes, you had been drawn to his hair. you imagined it felt like silk sheets, caressing over one’s hands as smoothly as honey. you were glad he grew it out; in fact, upon seeing his teenage photos, you had laughed so hard you ended up getting a nosebleed from hitting your face. illumi had been left in confusion for a while.

- you realized how random you sounded. why were you reminiscing so much?

- shaking yourself back to your senses, you admired as he artfully twisted his hair into a loose bun, strands of hair cupping his elegant, pale face.

- what a beautiful koi fish.

- most people couldn’t compute that illumi had true, human feelings. after all, it would be hard to believe a man like him felt anything. but, of course, he did, unhealthily so. he channeled all his trauma and hurt into his villainy, and received happiness from his villainy, anger from his villainy and occasionally fear from his villainy. however, there was one emotion he could never grasp. he hated himself for it, but soon realised he could manipulate his hatred into villainy, too.

- illumi was a man who could manipulate anyone or anything he wished.

- except himself.

- internally, he had always felt at a loss whenever he confronted his emotions. but, after he had met you, something had changed. as he caught you staring at his hair through the hotel mirror, he couldn’t help but feel something small stir inside of his stomach. not evil, not happiness, not hatred, not anger. perhaps, friendship?

- this tinge of new emotion inside of him initially made him feel uneasy, but that worry morphed into giddiness, a childish high buzzing somewhere in his core.

- eventually, he stood up to face you and suggested going to sleep. you checked the time on the wall clock. 8 in the evening. well, illumi had always been particular. you agreed that rest was essential for tomorrow.

- you hesitantly took the left side, and, upon seeing your choice, illumi followed to lie on the right.

- after a few minutes, you looked back at him, noticing illumi fell asleep abnormally quickly. you furrowed your brow quizzically at the rock-like manner he was in. frankly, he looked like a plank when he slept. you almost laughed, but held it in for his sake.

- he had a very specific sleep schedule, as did the other zoldycks. he could go to sleep immediately at his own command, and stayed perfectly still as he did so. he woke up at 5 in the morning every single day, without fail, almost like he had some sort of alarm clock planted in his body.

- looking at him lying there like a block, you smiled softly. illumi was quite the conundrum to you. you often speculated whether he ever got what he deserved; love, affection, anything really. you knew about his past from when he had told you nonchalantly, within a few weeks of your acquaintance. you always hoped he’d find someone to love him, but doubted whether people would bother looking beyond his bleak surface, and into his excellent mind. lost in thought, you found yourself getting drowsier. you also fell asleep generally quickly, limbs aching from the stupid car ride.

- the night passed.

- illumi was the first to wake up at 5am, stoic and in the same place he had fallen asleep in. no surprise there.

- but you.

- that was the first thing he saw when his eyes opened.

- he did not expect you to be lying on him lazily, snuggling into his body, arm and leg comfortably wrapped around his side. you were breathing lightly, face burrowing onto the ridge of his chest.

- i suppose you didn’t expect to be there either, which he realized, but the point still remained.

- why were on you his chest.

- “y/n.”

- no answer.

- illumi could have pushed you away; in fact, he could have blown you 983 metres away (his personal record).

- but he didn’t.

- it wasn’t the thought of disturbing your comfort that stopped illumi from hurling you into oblivion. it wasn’t the fact that he explicitly enjoyed it, either. he remembered that the mission was today; if he were to wake you, and you hadn’t slept enough, you wouldn’t be at your upmost performance.

- the murder of the ten dons was his priority, right? yes. it was. there was no doubt about it. that was the only and final reason he wouldn’t wake you. end of discussion.

- so, illumi stayed there, waiting for you to wake up and get off of him. 30 minutes passed, and he watched you for every single one.

- hard as it was to admit, watching you rise and fall in sync with his chest made the spark of emotion in his core grow fervently. what had that foreign feeling been? yesterday, he had settled at friendship, but now he wasn’t so sure.

- you looked so peaceful while you slept. less confusing. he remembered the time you had accidentally complimented his hair when the two of you had first met. he had found that amusing. he remembered the time you got a nosebleed from hitting your face too hard - it was after laughing at his teenage pictures, which perplexed him greatly. he remembered the times you two had sat together, working and theorizing on missions, accidentally meeting eyes or brushing hands. one time, you had dipped one of his pins in ink and scratched his name on some paper “for fun”. you had handed it to him and, for some unknown reason, the scrap was still tucked safely in his wallet. your unrivaled intelligence, your idiotic sense of humour, your smile, your lack of common sense, your twinkling eyes that so ironically contrasted his, everything. everything crossed his mind while he lay there.

- illumi found it strange how people remembered the oddest things at the oddest times.

- why did he think of that now, as you were sleeping? even worse, on the day of a meticulously planned assassination. why couldn’t he manipulate his emotions to stop fluctuating around you so much?

- it all frustrated him.

- why had he let you call him by “illumi” so quickly? mr zoldyck would have been fine. and why had he been so lenient with your antics? no one else got to touch his pins. why did he feel like keeping you on his chest forever, and keeping you safe? most importantly, why was he thinking about you so much?

- his contemplation came to a halt when he heard you stir a little in your sleep.

- finally, you’d wake up and he could forget about this entire problem.

- he watched you, expecting you to get up soon.

- you began shuffling around, brushing against his chest, and soon your eyes fluttered open, hazy and glazed over. it almost seemed like you were still in a dream, in some sort of half-sleep.

- “huh?” you whispered quietly, still lying on illumi. you looked up lazily, meeting eyes with him.

- “oh... i get it...” you hummed quietly, falling back onto his chest.

- he furrowed his brows.

- “why are you here?” you hugged him from the side, softly laughing at your ridiculous dream. he tensed up at you embracing him, but soon relaxed after realizing what was going on.

- illumi looked at you, one eyebrow raised. did you... think you were dreaming?

- to be honest, he found it kind of entertaining, the way you were fawning over him. if he let you stay there, he could figure out a lot of things about his newly found emotion. it could be worth it. just not today.

- illumi came back to his senses fairly quickly; you were obviously awake now, so why couldn’t you get off of him already?

- “y/n.”

- “mmm? what? so serious all the damn timeee, illum-”

- “you aren’t dreaming. get off.”

- SHIT

- SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

- you jolted off him immediately, staring down at illumi zoldyck.

- the real illumi zoldyck.

- oh my god what. what. what. what.

- every nerve in your body began to panic, and, in the stress of trying to find the correct words to say, you just ended up making some sort of incomputable “aaaahhh” noise and jumping off the bed.

- illumi had finally gotten up and was now staring concernedly at you.

- an awkward pause.

- “let me just start by saying i did not-”

- “y/n. we have more pressing priorities for today. i don’t care.”

- illumi zoldyck had lied. even to himself. he did care. and so what if he ignored it until it festered so intensely inside of him he couldn’t do anything but tell you? he cared about you. and he knew it.

- “ok. you’re right. you’re right! illumi. one question. was i like that the whole night?”

- “i don’t know. i woke up at 5 and you were there.”

- you looked at the clock. it was 6am? what had he been doing for an hour? you opened your mouth to ask but closed it soon after. you recalled your thoughts about illumi growing up void of affection, or love, or appreciation.

- some questions were best left unanswered.

- “how long was i... mumbling like that?”

- “a few minutes.”

- you gulped. there were a few things you had to come to terms with. shutting your eyes firmly, you apologised profusely, annoyed at yourself.

- “y/n. i don’t care.” he lied once again.

- “you’re right!” you rambled - “the ten dons are today! it doesn’t matter what i said... none of it matters, we can both just forget it!”

- you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone.

- “so all we need to do is go over the plan one last time, get kalluto, and then we’ll carry it out, and soon enou-”

- “stop it. you’re wasting time. just go and get ready.”

- you sighed and smiled weakly. on the inside, you were sure your soul had died a little.

- while you left to change, overcome by embarrassment, illumi lingered by the bed for a few seconds. he tried to push down whatever he was currently feeling, but it was no use. the feeling in his core had risen up to his throat, a burst of something waiting to leave his lips.

- for the first time in a while, illumi zoldyck smiled. not at murder, or at power, or fulfillment, or achievement, or even villainy.

- illumi zoldyck had smiled at the thought of you.

- let’s just say illumi had trouble focusing on his mission.

i am honestly so fucking sorry you had to read that whole thing. the way i am literally in love with illumi zoldyck and ended up writing 2857 words bye bye bye i’m so sorry!!! PLZ what?? anyways,, i feel like i heavily underwrote hisoka now, since i did such a prologue thing for this! honestly i feel like this one came out a little boring, im sorry again AAAAA just agh; chrollo should b coming when i have time but i have exams rn so idkkkk hh

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

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excujeemi · 3 years ago

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D R U N K [ Ray X Reader ]

Age: around 18 Genre: Fluff Warnings: UHhh, adult jokes (??) and mentions of alcohol

Simple, you know, you were graduating high school and moving on to college of course there'd be parties. And there's only three words to describe this party you're in? Wild as fuck. Man, some were playing beer pong, some were making out, it was just so chaotic you don't even remember as to why you were here in the first place... Oh yeah, your parents forced you to get some human interaction every once in a while.

You thought this party would be very shit and unenjoyable but look at you now, everyone around you was cheering you on to chug , c h u g , c h u g . And chug you did.

You were already dizzy but you know this is that moment, that sweet moment of youth (??) perhaps and there's the adrenaline and the feeling that you're on top of the world, it's like you can just do anything you want for example, peeing in your annoying neighbor's backyard but let's not take that idea personally-

You were just about to open another bottle of alcohol but then someone stopped you, a hand gripped on your wrist which surprised you, you looked up to see whose hand it was and saw Ray frowning. That's typical, when is he not frowning anyway.

Well, Ray is one of your closest friends, your parents are also both close to each other so it just makes sense. And Ray being the most trusted person of your mother, she asked him if he could pick you up since it was getting kinda late. You know if they were just gonna end up worrying about you then why even force you to get some of that, "human interaction", they're just exaggerating.

"Oh, hey Ray my beloved , what're you doing here?" You smugly asked as he helped you stand up but your feet kept on tripping and so you slipped, with your hand on Ray's shoulder causing him to fall on top of you while the people surrounding you both were teasing you, you felt Ray's hot breath hitting your neck while his large hands were supporting your back to protect you from directly falling. The close space between the both of you caused Ray's face to turn into a tomato, red flushed cheeks, wide eyes, he lowkey wished you both could stay like that for more time. "You idiot, get up already its almost 4am." He says as he quickly got up and tried to take your heavy ass up. "wAiT, mY bAg and mY phOne, And mY StufF are-" "Shh, shh. I got them all now shut it." He says as he shows you your bag from his other hand, he opened the door with his foot and kicked it close. "Hey Ray, aren't you getting to close, haah~?" You seductively whispered in his ear making him blush for the second time. He rolled his eyes, 'Patience, you must stay calm.' He thinks to himself. "Haah~?" Okay, he decided that was it. "Why don't you walk by yourself then, the parking lot is still quite far from where we are, walk by yourself good luck tripping over everything." He lets go of you while you had trouble tryna regain your posture. "I can walk, don't-d-don't you underestimate the power of this wild creature." You pointed to yourself while making a karate pose.

Ray was annoyed, his eye was twitching and he really did want to abandon you there. "Okay, I'll lead the way then." After a few seconds, everything was going well, he takes a few glances back at you to see how you're doing because apparently if you trip and die he'd be blamed by your parents. Then he saw you weren't by his side, well obviously not because you kept on slowing down but you really were out of his sight and this worried him by a lot. 'If only Emma and Norman were here to back me up with this dumbass' But for real, he was worried, it had only been a few seconds--what if someone took you or something. He ran a few steps back and looked everywhere and there you fucking were, talking to a celebrity cardboard cutout. "Oh my fucking gosh, this dimwit. Y/n!" He sighs as he massaged his temples. He ran to you and pulled you by your arm. "Ugh, stOp, I'm still flirting with this hot man." You whined as you tried to wriggle your arm out of Ray's hand. He didn't know whether to leave you alone or laugh at you there. "You blockhead, that's...that's a Justin Bieber cardboard cut out for fuck's sake..." Ray was about to explode at this point, you were making him want to combust. "Please, dOn't take me way, I have no flirt with!" "I'll flirt with you all you want just--let's go already this is so embarrassing!" He said to improvise but your drunk self actually believed that he'd flirt with you. "Really?" You asked and he just nods while closing his eyes, annoyed. "YaaaY~, Ray my beloved will flirt with me, I'm the happiest person in the worlll ever." To be honest, Ray would love to hear those words while you're not drunk but he can't help but blush again remembering what Norman used to say, "Drunk people always say what they truly think." He shook his head and as soon as you arrived at the parking lot, he pushed you gently into the backseat. Thankfully, you spent that whole time without saying anything, you were literally just staring at the car's ceiling like a dead person which was creepy. He arrived at your house and it seemed that everyone was asleep so he had to use the spare keys he has. He then opened the door, carrying you bridal style and the hallways were quite narrow so he felt sorry whenever your head hit some walls or table. 💀 lmfao. He carefully placed you on your bed, while you were almost sound asleep. Boy, times like this remind him of deep in love he is with you. You know maybe he should just confess of something.

He smiled and tucked in some hair behind you ear. Very wholesome situation, well until you tugged his arm for him to come closer so he thought you had something to say, when he finally got close you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly which shocked him by a lot. It was comfortable to be in your arms, if only he could stay there a bit more longer. :'). "H-Hey what are you trying to do? Let go of me, Y/n." He softly whispered, his hot breath hitting you once again but a bit more closer which caused you to hug him tighter. "Dream on." And since you really wouldn't let go of him, and he didn't have enough will to force himself out of your hold, he decided to just stay there. It was 4am and your warmth was more than enough to make him sleepy. Next morning: You woke up with someone in your arms, it was very comfortable. 'Oh it's just Ray..wait what--RAY??' "HOLY SHIT RAY! WAKE UP! WAKE-" His hand covered your mouth as his half-asleep eyes stared at you. "What are you so loud in the morning for?" Man, his morning voice could kill. Shaking your head quickly to shoo away the simp thoughts, you built up the courage to ask him this one cliche question. "Di-Did we perhaps, you know? Do the thing?" Of course Ray was not dumb but he can be an ass. Smirking, he asks with an innocent tone, "What do you mean by thing ?" "Oh my--you know what I mean! Stop acting dumb-" "Oh you mean sex?" He stared at you for a while, keeping that smirk of his on his face while seeing you so flustered and red. "Why do you have to be so blunt, this is why I hate you.." You said as you buried your face into one of your pillows. "Chill, woman. We didn't do that. You did do something dumb last night though." He chuckles as he removes the pillow away from your red face. "Please kill me--what is it?" "Well you just flirted with a Justin Bieber Cutout, nothing new." "I really did that?" You cried as you started mentally smashing your head on a rock. "Yes, yes you did." As soon was those words of confirmation came out of his mouth, you started getting flashbacks again, "Dude, I'll never be drunk again." "That's a good idea. But if you never get drunk again you might never hug me again the way you did last night." 'The way I did last night?...' What did he even mean by that... "What do you mean?" "Want a demonstration?" ..... THE END lol bye this was so bad ahvdusvud - Follow me on wattpad - @excujeemi Join my discord server !! https://discord.gg/wXSuKBXMXt

#ray x reader #rayxreader #tpn #tpn ray #ynn #ynn ray #fanfic #x reader #anime x y/n #anime x reader

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a-froger-epic · 4 years ago

Text

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

#Queen band #Freddie Mercury #Roger Taylor #John Deacon #Brian May #interview #i am so excited about this #so much into #information #JB

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hobblywobbly · 3 years ago

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What is Love (don't hurt me now) - Lokius

Loki's crush on Mobius is obvious to everyone except himself and self-assigned romance expert Casey decides to step in. (ft. nonbinary casey, casey pov, trashy romance novels, and two idiots trying to figure out what love is)

There aren't many things that Casey knows- the cons of living a life behind a desk. Quite literally. Things like fish, trees, rocks, flowers were all abstract terms only ever heard in passing, but if there was one thing they knew it was this. "You're in love with him!"

"I beg your pardon?" The god's brows furrow as he halts his movements, sandwich halfway to his mouth. Casey never thought they'd ever become friends with the guy- heck, they still weren't fond of him! He got their cart pruned, and threatened them! But Loki was definitely interesting and, despite everything, he actually cared. He would sit and listen as Casey rambled about work or their coworkers and always took the crust from Casey's sandwiches or brought him an extra juice box when working 'late.' Yeah, they'd consider Loki a friend.

“You are!" Casey repeats this time with more vigor. "I knew I wasn't just seeing things!"

"What are you talking about?" Loki sets his lunch down and sighs. "

You and agent Mobius! You two are in love with each other!"

"No," he holds up a finger. "No, you're getting it wrong. We are partners- coworkers- how do you know love, but not know what a fish is?"

"Oh, that's easy!" Digging through their satchel bag, Casey sets down a novel onto the table. "So remember how I told you some of the stuff that gets brought in we can keep?" "You'd be surprised just how many of these are brought in!" Casey beams. They watch Loki take the book reading over the cover curiously.

"To Tame a Variant?" Loki reads out loud, the bewilderment clear in his voice.

"That one Mobius lent me-"

"What?!"

"It's a good book!" The book is, rather carefully, laid back onto the table, three fingers perched on top, piercing blue eyes squinting at Casey.

"Horrible tastes aside-"

"Hey!"

"This-" he taps the book. "Is not what love is. It's what bored, suburban middle-aged women going through a mid-life crisis read."

Casey takes a moment before realizing the jab was directed toward them. "...hey, what does that mean-"

"And for that, I have decided this cheap excuse of a meal from the vending machine is much more engaging than whatever conversation you are trying to drag me into." Casey watches Loki lean back triumphantly in his chair.

He sips his water.

"So you're in denial!" Casey shrinks away when the water is ungracefully spat out across the table. "You almost got that on my shirt!"

"Me?" Loki coughs and gestures to himself. "In denial?"

"Yeah? It's called pining! You have all the signs! Just the other day you wrote him a letter, and got embarrassed when he read it out loud!"

"First of all, it wasn't a letter. It was a memo. Strictly professional! And I was /not/ embarrassed." Loki crosses his arms. Now, Casey isn't stubborn, nor do they strive to always be right, but if there is one thing they don't like it's when a love story's slow-burn goes on for too long. And sometimes one must take matters into their own hands.

"Whenever he leaves a room, you always sigh." Loki raises a brow.

"Am I not allowed to breathe!"

"Yes, but it's always so-" as an example, Casey sighs, mimicking Loki. "Wistful! Like that!"

"...that doesn't mean anything." Despite his words, Loki seems engaged, or at least taking Casey's observations into consideration.

"You two tangle your legs together under the desk all the time!"

"That's because Mobius has no regard for personal space."

"And you let him borrow your jacket!"

"Mortals get colder easier than gods."

"And the way you say his name it's so-"

"I can tell you this, Casey," Loki begins. "Is that, with all certainty, I am not...'in love' with Mobius, or whatever you believe."

"Have you ever been in love before?" That has him visibly stop. Casey wonders if they said something wrong until they can see the gears turning in his head. Almost giddy, Casey leans over the table, trying to get Loki to look over. "You haven't, have you?" Loki huffs and turns away.

"I don't see how this has any relevance."

"This changes everything!" Casey beams. "Think about it!"

"...well," Loki starts staring past Casey at the wall in thought. "I...I haven't had the...best role models when it comes to the 'romance' department. So I guess I'm just as lost on the subject as you are."

This is much more exciting than any paperwork, and they hadn't even known that was possible!

"So maybe it isn't love just yet. Not all romances begin with love at first sight, you know! Maybe you just have a crush!"

"A...crush." He rolls the word around on his tongue, face pinched. "I...guess crush would be the word."

"Crush what?" A third voice chimes in causing Casey to shriek and nearly jump out of their seat. A hand grasps their shoulder, steadying them. "Sorry about that." Loki seems dumbstruck. It's the closest Casey can get to. He is just staring wide-eyed at Mobius as if seeing him for the first time, eyebrows lifted just the slightest. "I just came to get Loki. We have an emergency, and I thought you might enjoy the trip."

"Don't think I haven't forgotten my plan on burning the TVA down," Loki says as if nothing had ever been wrong, grabbing his jacket off the chair and standing. Casey takes note of the fond smile he sends toward Mobius who returns it. "Thank you for the talk, Casey. It was...enlightening."

"You still haven't said what you plan on crushing." Casey hears Mobius saying as the two head toward the cafeteria doors.

They walk side by side, Loki's head tilted and their shoulders nearly bumping with each step. It was as if they had been sucked into their own little world. Loki says something and Mobius laughs, shoulders shaking with mirth, head turned up to him. And Loki smiles back, relaxed and staring at him warmly. Casey tucks their book back into their bag.

At least this time lunch wasn't a complete disaster.

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artsy-hobbitses · 3 years ago

Note

I'm getting very curious about Malaysia... what's it like there?? Culture, living conditions, etc.

Pretty loaded question!

Off the top of my head, some specifics:

- Very much a melting pot. Malay, Chinese and Indian ethnicities mingle pretty freely, interracial marriages are not uncommon (I’m quarter Chinese on my mum’s side) and the modern Malaysian slang is often a mishmash of Malay, Chinese and Indian words. You have a choice between public, vernacular (usually caters to a specific race ie. Chinese/Indian as a stronghold of the language/customs, however I had Malays friends who went to Chinese Vernacular schools) international, private and religious schools (mostly for the Muslim-Majority Malays). Public holidays are designated for all three major races (big ones are Eid, Deepavali and Chinese New Year) plus more specific ones in Sabah/Sarawak for the indigenous population, and it’s normal for say, Malays to be invited to a Deepavali gathering or for Chinese to be invited to Eid open houses. We’re usually chill about it like that.

- Despite this, racism exists. It’s not loud and proud like in western nations though (except for your occasional Malay nationalist politician) it tends to be more of the passive-aggressive sort. Some parents discreetly warn their kids about not being friends with [X] race at school, some house rental listings with single out [X] race, though we’re coming to the point that we’re not bothering with Asian decorum anymore and publicly shitting on that behavior. On a historical aspect, the potential reason it takes on a more subtle, passive-aggressive tone here was that on 13 May 1969, sectarian violence broke out between urban Chinese and Malays in Kuala Lumpur due to unrest over the general election, and this resulted in the deaths of 600 people, mostly Chinese (My mum lived through this time at the heart of the incident). Basically the nation’s been scarred and has feared a similar event ever since, so those spouting open racial violence get slammed down pretty quick and “Remember 13 May” has often been used as a warning for whenever tensions flare up. Or when politicians want us to keep our grumblings down. We tend to have a don’t-rock-the-boat mentality here on the basis of trying to keep the peace for everyone—-it doesn’t always work. Malay Privilege/“Ketuanan Melayu” is a thing you’ll hear often from some sections of Malays here, who tend to argue that since they’re technically the original inhabitants if the land (don’t quiz ‘em about the Orang Asli), they should get more rights than the others.

-Living conditions vary. I live in Selangor—the state surrounding the Capital Kuala Lumpur—-which has the highest density of denizens. Here, it’s pretty modern. My husband and I rent a two-story terrace house, my parents who are a little well-off have their own bungalow. Places like Penang, Perak and Johor also tend to be more in the modern side. You’ll find more rural areas and kampungs as you go deeper into the heart of country (Pahang), the East Coast (Kelantan, Terengganu) and the country’s rice bowl (Kedah, and by extension, Perlis). This is within the Peninsula—-Sabah (I lived here for about four years) and Sarawak have a combination of modern and rural areas and tend to take life at a much slower pace than the Peninsula states (They also want none of Peninsula’s religious tension bullshit). My father’s kampung is in Pahang, and while I was never close to my paternal grandparents, I do have fond memories of cooking outdoors and plucking rambutan bunches from the trees they grew.

- Wet. Very wet. Monsoon season/‘Musim Tengkujuh’ at year end interspace with mid-year. Fucks with the income of local fishermen who are barred from going to the ocean on the account of rough waves, Flooding is an annual occurrence for rural areas, though we get flash floods in cities too. Common enough that “check for crocodiles” isn’t a weird request when you come back to clean your homes from mud and silt. (Houses near flood-prone areas will employ walls or be built on stilts to withstand the floods).

- 9 Sultans for 9 states, they take turns becoming the Agong (Chief Sultan I guess?) every five years. They’re mostly there the same way the British monarchy is. Don’t really play a big role in politics unless there is a need for them to decree something when politicians can’t work things out between themselves.

- Political leapfrog. It’s. A thing. A politician you see from one party today can be a member of another party tomorrow. It’s gotten so bad they’re considering legislation to punish it. We do call them literal frogs (Katak) when they do this (Sorry frogs, you deserve better!)

- Food. All the fucking food. Melting pot = all the deliciousness. There’s no culturally appropriating cuisine here, everyone’s eating everyone else’s stuff with great gusto. Roti Canai/Chappati (Indian) for breakfast, Nasi Campur (mixed rice, mostly with Malay dishes) for lunch and Wantan Mee (Chinese) for dinner is an example of the food culture trip you go through on any given day. You’ll have Malays who adore Chinese food, Chinese who adore Malay food, and no one fights when they’re eating, that’s all there is to it. Places like Penang are a haven for food and people will make trips just to eat there.

- Islam is the main religion. However, it’s not strictly enforced in most cases, I’d dare even say that we’re quite secular, to the teeth-gnashing of the Facebook army. I’m a Muslim who doesn’t wear a headscarf (except on special occasions), I know Muslims who rescue and keep dogs (My hunter grandfather apparently caught and kept a Dhole as a house guard way back), and I know some who’re LGBT, albeit somewhat discreet about it.

- Speaking of LGBT, the country is not friendly to the community, but neither is it as hostile as sections of the US tend to be about it. As an example, gay conversion therapy isn’t really a thing there (presumably because that would entail the govt admitting that there’s enough gay people to require it at all), workplaces generally do not have a policy targeting people based on their sexualities, like you’ll find butch ladies serving you drinks at Starbucks and gay men working with local theatre productions, and violence against LGBT members is pretty rare (though I imagine this is more because most people here mostly do not want to kick up a fuss in public, what more a fight, and just judge from a distance). Basically, the majority of the public will tolerate LGBT existence—whispering behind their back——until there starts to be a call for rights.

- Good degree of English command. English is understood, if not spoken, by a lot of us here from cab drivers to stall owners, so you won’t be hopelessly lost if you decide to visit. A big majority of us are at LEAST bilingual (In my case, I speak English and Malay, and can understand some Arabic). Quite a number who come from interracial marriages are trilingual.

- Cheap healthcare. There’s a reason we’re one of the top destinations for medical tourism. You have a choice between private and government hospitals which provide a form of universal healthcare. Govt clinics/hospitals offer subsidized healthcare and meds to all members of the public, and most doctors will start out in government hospitals before moving to private practices (like my sister-in-law). Uninsured, a trip to a normal clinic for a consultation will set you back maybe twenty to thirty bucks, fifty if you need meds or a small procedure like stitches. I do have insurance but have never used it for doctor visits since the amount is pretty trivial. I have, however, used it for a hysterectomy surgery + 1 month hospital stay at a private hospital which set me back about RM30,000-RM40,000 (USD7000-USD9500) which I managed to get covered. Ambulance Fees are like, RM200 (USD47) for private hospitals and RM50 (USD12) for govt hospitals. Consultation fees, blood tests and X-Rays go as low as RM1 (24 Cents) in govt hospitals. If you get hurt here, we got you covered.

And that’s just off my head! If there’s something specific you’d like you know, feel free to ask further ouob

#inbox #long post #Malaysia

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starshine583 · 4 years ago

Note

can we see damianette with v?

(Let me just say that I absolutely LOVE this concept!! I could write a whole ficlet on this one too! anyway, I hope you like the snippet as much as I did.)

Darkness. That was all Marinette had ever known. In fact, it was all a good portion of the world had ever known, and it was thanks to this little thing called Soulmates.

A long time ago, the gods decided that humans had become blind to the true purpose of love and romance. So, to remind them of this, they cursed the world with literal blindness, and the only way to nullify this curse was to touch your soulmate directly. Then, the gift of sight would be restored to both parties, and they would finally be able to see for the first time.

At first, Marinette was extremely excited to find her soulmate. After all, who wouldn’t be? The life of the seeing sounded wonderful, especially when her Maman and Papa would tell her stories of the sea and the stars. And having the love of your life, the person you’re going to be with forever, be the first thing you truly see? That sounded incredibly romantic, and she couldn’t wait to experience it.

As the years passed, though, and more people around her found their soulmate, the excitement that had been bubbling inside her began to fade, and a quiet resignation took its place. If she hadn’t found her soulmate yet, that meant she probably wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones who found their soulmate early. Therefore, she needed to learn to be patient, instead of tearing herself apart with anticipation.

This revelation led to Marinette exploring her capabilities and becoming affiliated with her blindness as best she could. She could already get around fine, but she wanted to get around better than fine. She wanted to get around so well on her own that people forgot she was blind altogether. Then, perhaps, she would be able to forget too. Or at least forget that everyone but her could see.

She had just started being able to walk without using her cane when she received a pair of strange, magical earrings. The discovery was definitely a shock, but the thought of being able to push herself to the absolute limit as a superhero intrigued her. So, she accepted the earrings and became Ladybug, savior of Paris.

Imagine her surprise when she found out that her partner was also blind. He didn’t move around as easily as she did, but their gadgets helped them find their way well enough to fight. For example, her yo-yos would use beeping sequences to tell her when she was near something, while Chat Noir used his staff as a makeshift cane, and the akumas were normally loud enough that they didn’t have to guess their locations.

Alya joined their school around the same time that Marinette became Ladybug, and Marinette was absolutely delighted to meet her. Not only because the new student gave Nino his sight, but also because she was able to describe the colors to Marinette in a way that she could understand. Her parents had tried to tell her about the colors before and how beautiful they were, but in the end, the descriptions always depended on sight.

Alya, however, described them with feelings.

“Blue,” she would say, “is like dipping your hand into the pool. It’s cool and calm and sometimes sad, but it’s beautiful. It’s the color of the sky and the sea and your eyes.”

“Red is the color of heat, of anger, of blood.”

“Yellow is the color of sunshine on your skin and happiness and things that make you smile.”

“Green is the color of envy or disgust, but it’s also the color of summer’s grass.”

“Black is the color of darkness, the same thing you see now.”

Now that Marinette had at least somewhat of a shaky grasp on what colors were like, she wasn’t nearly as annoyed when Mlle Bustier decided to take the class to an art gallery during their field trip to Gotham. It was still an inconsiderate thing to do, but she had Alya to guide her if necessary and had heard about a section of the gallery that was made specifically for blind people. So she had hope that the visit wouldn’t be as awful as it sounded.

“Remember class,” her teacher called as she led everyone inside the gallery, “everyone needs to have a safety buddy at all times. Gotham is well known for its villain attacks, so stay together!”

Alya sighed next to her. “It’s not like it’s any different from our akuma attacks. Why all the fuss?”

“Well, the villains here don’t transform back once they’re caught.” Nino pointed out. “It’s kind of like a ton of Hawkmoths running around instead of akumas.”

Marinette nodded in agreement, though none of them were probably looking at her anyway.

“True, but they also have more super heroes here.” Alya argued. “Batman, Red hood, Nightwing, Robin- if a villain attacked us, they’d be surrounded in ten minutes!”

Marinette held back from commenting on that remark, but she knew from personal experience that superheroes had their own lives too. Just because a single villain showed up somewhere didn’t mean that all of the heroes in Gotham would show up at the same time to fight it, or that the villain would be any easier to take down once outnumbered.

She lightly touched Alya’s arm to get her attention. “I’m going to go find that blind section that Mlle Bustier was talking about .”

Alya paused her conversation with Nino to reply, “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Would you mind?”

“Of course not! I’ll go tell Mlle Bustier where we’re going, but you can start walking now if you don’t need any help?”

“No, I can manage.” Marinette smiled. Mlle Bustier had passed out a special map of the gallery the night before that had bumps for the walls and statues and braille to tell them which rooms were what. Besides, if she could fight akumas across the Parisian rooftops on a regular basis, she could certainly find her way around an art museum.

The two separated, Alya going right to speak with Bustier, and Marinette going left to find the blind room. She idly tapped her cane on her shoulder as she walked across the hardwood floors, the echoing footsteps and hushed talk of other visitors giving her directions on which way to step and which way to avoid. Some of the voices spoke in different languages, and it caused Marinette to wonder whether the people around her were tourists like herself or locals. Probably a decent mix of both.

When she was sure that she’d found the correct room- there was a sign with braille on it that said “blind section” - she let her cane tap against the floor and began wandering around the room. The pictures inside had bumpy textures for her to run her hands across, and the statues that were open to anyone above the age of eleven were a mix of grainy and smooth, most likely made from different types of rock. It was admittedly strange tracing her hands over things that were supposed to be human bodies, but if it was the only way to observe the master pieces..

A few minutes passed of her dragging her hands over the displays when something strange happened, something that made her pause.

Footsteps and voices had been a consistent background noise from the moment she walked into the gallery, but for some reason, both of those sounds abruptly stopped in the last minute of her being there, as though everyone that had been in the room with her suddenly left. That wasn’t possible, though, because she didn’t hear anyone leave, and she couldn’t fathom why a whole group of strangers would tip-toe out of a room to avoid being detected by her.

Before she could call out to the people who had to be around her, somebody gasped, proving that other people were, in fact, still in the room with her. Then, another person gasped, then three, and someone shrieked.

Now Marinette was panicking. What was going on? Why were they screaming? What did they see that she couldn’t?

Where footsteps had been scarce before, there were now footsteps everywhere, along with more screams. People were running, but from what? She didn’t hear anyone else enter the gallery, nor did she hear a villainous outburst.

Marinette strained her ears to listen for something more, something out of the ordinary that would cause people alarm, but it was hard to hear anything else over the screams. The only other thing she could catch was a strange, hissing sound. They couldn’t be running from that, though, could they? What would be making a hissing sound that had everyone bolting out of the gallery?

“Marinette!”

Alya’s voice nearly made Marinette jump five feet in the air out of fright, but she caught herself and turned towards the direction she assumed her friend was coming from.

“Alya, what’s going on?”

Somebody grabbed her arm, and Alya’s voice spoke up again right next to her. “We need to go. There’s this weird, green gas that’s filling the gallery, and it’s causing people to.. to..”

Alya’s explanation faltered as she let out a snort, which confused Marinette. Didn’t she sound panicked a second ago? Why was she laughing now? This wasn’t a prank, was it? No, Alya would do that..

Another laugh burst from her friend’s lips. Then another. It almost sounded like she was trying to contain it, like she was laughing against her will.

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. What did she say about the gas again? It was causing people to do something? What if it was causing them to laugh?

“A-Alya?” Marinette said, trying to remain calm as she grabbed Alya’s shoulders. If the gas was causing people to laugh, does that mean she’s inhaled it already? Was the effect going to be permanent? Was it going to be fatal? Why would someone release that type of gas into an art gallery?

“Mari-Marine-” Alya wiggled out of Marinette’s grasp and began laughing harder. Marinette tried to grab her again, but her friend fell to the floor.

“Alya!” Marinette cried, kneeling down next to her. The girl was writhing on the floor now, cackling like she’d gone mad.

“G-Get- you need- you need to- need to go-” She said through laughs, but that was all she said. After that, Alya fell into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, and Marinette was left panicking and wondering what she should do. She could try to go get help, but she didn’t know where the gas was coming from. Even if she did, she had no way of knowing who might be waiting for her outside. The gas might be a way to push herself and the other civilians out onto the street.

Marinette stumbled to her feet and took a moment to listen to her surroundings again. She could still hear screams, but they were more towards the back of the gallery, while laughter could be heard towards the front. That meant the gas must have come through the front entrance. Was that the hissing sound she’d heard earlier?

Just as she was about to call out Tikki to give her a visual on the gallery, another sound reached her ears. This time it was a clicking, similar to that of metal being hooked onto something, and it came from above her. Was someone on the ceiling? What would they be doing up there? How would they get up there in the first place?

A whizzing sound followed the click, and Marinette tensed as she listened to it grow closer. Something or someone was coming towards her. Was it the villain who spread the gas? Why didn’t she hear it move on the ceiling beforehand? Was she going to have to defend herself and Alya as a civilian?

A pair of boots hit the hardwood floor, and Marinette shifted into a fighting stance, holding her cane up like a sword. If she had to go, she didn’t plan on going easily. “Who are you?”

“My name is Robin.” The response was quick, almost automatic. “We’re evacuating the premises. I need you to come with me.”

Marinette hesitated. Wasn’t Robin one of the heroes Alya had mentioned? The person in front of her sounded like another teenager. (Then again, being a teenager didn’t stop her from saving Paris on a weekly basis)

A leather glove wrapped around her fore-arm- his hand, she realized -and he pulled her against him.

“Hold on tight.”

Hold on tight? “What do you me-”

Robin clicked a button, and with a sharp tug, they were flying through the air. Marinette let out a yelp, and then she did something that changed her life forever.

She wrapped her hands around his neck.

As soon as she did, a bright flash of light invaded her vision, and suddenly, colors were everywhere. There were light colored walls and dark colored floors- perhaps that was the brown she’d heard about? -and the statues were a mix of light and dark colors, similar to the marble rock that she’d been taught about. And the paintings- oh, the paintings were just bursting with color and life! It all looked positively extraordinary and amazing and-

Robin gasped above her, no doubt from the shock of seeing as well. His hand must have slipped from whatever was pulling them upwards, because in the next moment they were falling back to the ground. (And she could see it! She didn’t have to hear the rush of wind or feel the pit of her stomach rising to know!)

The two hit the ground with a grunt, and Robin swiftly shifted their position to use his body as a shield to protect Marinette from further injuries as they rolled across the floor. This resulted in Marinette landing on top of Robin and Robin rubbing the back of his head with another groan.

“A-Are you okay?” She asked as she pushed herself up to hover over him. That fall didn’t feel too steep, but having extra weight on top of him most certainly would have made the landing worse.

Now that she could actually see the person in front of her with her own eyes, she could tell that he was definitely a superhero. He had an entire costume on, equipped with a cape and everything. She even spotted a utility belt on his waist that appeared to have a hefty amount of gadgets on it.

Robin looked up at her, and though his mask hindered her view of his eyes, the surprise was clear on his face as his eyebrows shot up.

“Who..” He trailed off, his head tilting slightly as he glanced around the room. He was still absorbing the fact that he could finally see, just as she was.

His gaze snapped back to her. “Who are you?”

I could ask you the same question. She thought. After fifteen years of searching, she’d finally found her soulmate, and not only did he live halfway across the world from her, but was also a superhero just like her. What were the odds?

Reality slapped both of them in the face when another scream pierced the air, and the two scrambled to get back to their feet. Soulmates or not, they were still in the middle of a villain attack. They couldn’t get distracted.

People were still laughing hysterically on the floor, but now a strange gas was trailing into the blind section. Marinette knew she should be panicked seeing it, considering what it did to Alya, but another part of her felt giddy, because Alya had also told her that the gas was green. She finally knew what green looked like!

“We have to get out of here.” Robin said. He pulled something off of his utility belt- was that a gun? -and shot it upwards. Marinette’s gaze immediately followed it curiously, and she managed to catch sight of a shiny object latching onto an open hole in the rooftop. It made a clicking sound, reminding her of the sound she’d heard when Robin first swooped into the gallery.

So, that’s how he got in here. She thought to herself.

Robin pulled her against his chest again, clicking the same button he had earlier to start rising to the roof. “No surprises this time, all right?”

Marinette couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her lips, but it wasn’t because of the gas. The ludicrousness of the situation was simply too much. Who asks their soulmate not to give them another surprise such as the gift of sight? Who finds their soulmate in the hero who’s saving them during a villain attack?

Apparently, Marinette does, and this field trip, she decided, was turning out to be much more interesting than originally expected.

(Send me a letter and I’ll do a thing!)

(The next one I’ll be doing is O with Felinette!)

#asks #Daminette #Soulmate AUs

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jiminrings · 2 years ago

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Four Seven Eight ♡

To: You

From: Fluffy

Ahem.. ahem.. We shall break this down into however many parts possible..

First of all, I love the type of angst you write.. It’s that realistic road of melted rocks that simply trips you over every single time (to me at least).. Where you go: ‘Ah.. This could totally be something that would happen to me in real life..’ That’s the type of angst that truly gets your eyes watering like a gardening hose.. Not the type that involves people falling off cliffs.. The type that seems so insignificant from a distance but as you step into the tunnel of such pain, you realise.. Well, this shit hurts.. My poor mush mush of a heart.. Ouch! (Maybe that’s why I’ve read take five exactly five times - shoutout to all of your Yoongi fics)

Jungkook.. He truly does love Y/N, and it wasn’t a matter of not moving on from his ex (I do not remember her name.. Condolences to my memory) completely, it was a matter of - holding on to certain things just to make him feel more secure.. And normal.. It’s like how certain traditions carry on for centuries because that’s what makes us feel secure.. Some traditions vanish over time because of things like (tw) w*r, etc.. Some traditions vanish over time because we simply have no need for them anymore.. How certain cultural weddings get cut down in terms of days (Cambodian weddings for example).. That’s life (however cliche).. everything changes, anything changes.. We evolve..

Like a child who refuses to let go of their ever so dear teddy bear.. I feel what Jungkook is feeling... What he did was completely unfair to our Mc though.. To the words I have continuously sworn by: ‘Understand a person, but don't overlook what they did..’ You did bad on that one, Koo.. Very bad..

Oh my my my.. To put into words, this story is one where love conquers it all - not in a way where it can build bridges and cross rivers.. In a way where, without you I ache and bruise all over my heart.. In a way where, with you I blossom and turn into stars.. Love doesn't have to be carefully articulated bouquets, love doesn't have to be anything complicated (even if it is far more than that) The way Koo gives in to buying that ridiculously hard to clean couch.. The way the mc sat threw with him when he was watching those Kiss scenes with Yoongs...

In a way I relate to the mc and in a way I relate to Koo.. As a pretty cold person whose idea of emotions is always a permanent impassive expression every hour of the day.. I can say, space is one of those things that gets us going through relationships.. We need time to process shit... We let things simmer down and a person be prepared to speak rationally and not out of anger.. We let them think of whether they were in the wrong (sometimes ourselves).. Space... I love space..

And yep... This is how I rant.. (alternatively: this is how we writers get out of writer’s block - we write something we feel like writing at the moment or stare at a wall...) Ahhhh, it feels good to give an author the love they truly deserve!!! I’ve been on here for so long... And for once I have finally written you the review you deserve... I mean it with all my soul and in all of Min Yoongi’s White House Wainscotting that you are a wonderful wonderful author.. One of my favourites.. I get all happy when you upload - truly.. Just, wowww!!

As a lover of ending reviews with memes.. Here you are, dear author

Four Seven Eight ♡

ok first off thank u so much ily let's establish that <33 i rlly like taking this realistic-ish point of angst that can possibly happen to u in real life!! i feel like that's been the recurring theme of my fics lately (excluding lyiaik n the soulmate portion of hlwwf tho </3) and im happy u enjoy it!! i like building off what seems to be insignificant details from a distance until it eventually runs deeper than it is superficially!! shoutout to all my yoongis i love em too :D

jungkook truly loves oc n i agree!! some people have their comfort routine that although may seem flawed to anyone not part of it, brings them great relief!! what he did was unfair unfortunately </3 you've articulated the love conquers all bit and i've reread it two times just to intentionally put myself through it!! it's on those little scenes that i feel like emphasized their compromise and love the most.

i'm glad u can relate to both of them to a degree <3 impassiveness is more common than one could think and the notion about establishing space as destructiveness isn't true at all!! ahhhh thank u so much this means a lot to me more than u think <3 ily fluffy n min yoongi white house wainscoting 🫶

#answered #478 feed #love mail

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mintvender · 4 years ago

Text

UTOPIA [ 4 ]

Pairing: BTS x Y/N

Synopsis: Y/N L/N, the name of the current monarch of Corea. They became the ruler after successfully ending the previous king along with the dynasty as well. In their harem, countless men are present to help balance the court’s power. However, is this truly their intentions? The palace was always a place that needs to be proceeded with caution but as time goes by, recklessness would most likely outweigh it. You found yourself unable to prosper the kingdom without being too connected to it.

HaremAu!

Warning: Killings, slight gore

Word Count: 6.2k

A/n: Whew, finally finished with this chapter. Apologies for being late but at least it’s out now. Feedback or word of encouragement is always welcome. Enjoy 🌿

Masterlist

Soundlessly dodging the dozens of spikes obtruding from the hefty branches above, you continued your trek down the valley. Careful to not alert any unwanted guests, you tucked your sword under your left arm while gently swatting the branches that were hindering your view with the other.

Like losing your vision, everything surrounding you was pitch black. Even if anyone were to stand right in front of you, chances are that you wouldn’t even be able to see the lightest speck of color. Fortunately, with your oil lamp, you have prevented another candidate of wanting your life.

To be honest, you must admit that having to travel through this particular part at night was not the wisest decision. However, with precious time gnawing at your throat, travelling through the night would have to do.

Knowing how much time has been wasted, you couldn’t let the slight burning sensation resulting from your cuts hinder your way, especially with how dangerous it currently is...

… and that you’ve lost your entire group.

In a moment of chaos, you and the rest of the group got separated. With adrenaline wracking your body, you remembered looking into Taehyung’s terrified eyes before he was dragged by Panther in the opposite direction.

A pack of wolves had invaded your group from above, dividing you guys into two fractions. Knowing that you had a better chance of dealing with it, you prompted to lure it towards your direction.

Just by glancing your way, Panther knew what you were hinting. Quickly grabbing Taehyung and Namjoon, he swiftly pulled them towards him and into the trees, safely shielding them from the ongoing attack and began to go the opposite way.

Meanwhile, you were fully engaged in the battle. With your sword unsheathe, you charged forward, taking the offense role.

Dodging at the canines that were aiming at your neck, you took the opportunity to swing your sword, successfully getting rid of one.

A dozen more to go.

Backing away from the pack, you quickly took off your cloak, throwing it aimlessly at the floor. Tightening your grip on the sword, you let out a frightening grin underneath your mask.

It’s been a while since I’ve spilt this much blood.

Standing still, you made no move to attack, taking the defensive role, and patiently waited.

Looking into the largest wolf’s eyes, you proudly showed off your arrogance, challenging its dominance and control.

As if provoked by your provocation, it began to run towards you, aiming at your neck. As soon as the wolf made their move, you thrust your sword towards it, blood quickly coating your sword. Letting out a pained howl, it retreated, falling back behind the walls of its pack.

However, amidst your victorious moment, a wolf managed to sneak behind you, leaping onto you and aggressively tore down your flesh.

Jolting at the sudden sensation, you let out a hissed, your stance faltering with its weight. Trying your best to maintain your ground, you stuck your sword into the wolf, ripping it away from your bloodied arm. Kicking the wolf that had approached you, you continue your massacre.

After getting rid of a few more, your wrecked body was greeted with a wave of exhaustion. Wavering at the abuse your body has gone through, you dismissed the desperate signs that your body was producing to remove yourself from the situation. Instead, you were quite proud of your accomplishments, glad that you have shown multiple examples to the remaining wolves.

After you had injured the largest wolf, their Alpha, you noticed how each wolf became much more hesitant than the last when attacking you.

Looking at your bloodied sword, you ripped a part of your tattered shirt and wiped off the blood from your face as well as your sword, before carefully sheathing it.

Looking back to the wolves that were surrounding their Alpha, you began to make your way towards them. As you approached, you noticed their slightly cowered positioned along with the pained whimpers coming from the Alpha. Next to it, there lies another wolf, who you presumed was the Luna, was licking the Alpha’s eyes.

Grimacing at its wounded eye that was caused by you, you ripped off another piece of fabric.

Closing the space between you and the pack, the wolves continue to shake under your watchful eyes. However, you ignored that and brought your hands around the half-blinded wolf’s head.

Failing to scare you off with its growls, it could only helplessly lie there while you tie the cloth around its head, applying pressure to prevent it from losing any more blood.

You were pleasantly surprised by how compliant all the wolves were. None of them, even the younger ones, have attacked you when you were taking care of their Alpha.

They must have understood my intentions.

Rising up from your knees, you painfully headed back to grab your cloak. Putting it back on, you pulled the hood up to fully cover your hair. Picking up the lamp you previously set down, you were about to leave and search for your group, you felt something limply gnawing on your pants.

Turning around, you saw the giant wolf chewing on your pants. Not knowing what to say, you made some attempts to yank your pants away but to simply no avail.

He still has strength… What does he want?

Thankfully, when the wolf receives your attention, it detaches itself from you. However, it continues to surprise you when it settled itself in front of you, sitting on its bottom. Soon after, the others began to approach you both and follow in suit.

They only do that when they…

Grinning widely at their actions, you patted the Alpha’s head to show your approval. Kneeling down to its ear, you silently whispered to the wolf before standing up. Glancing over to the rest of the wolves, you ended up meeting Luna's eyes. Boring their eyes into yours, you couldn’t help but shuddered at how intense it is. However, you understood what she had put out and will definitely respect that.

Looking into the Alpha’s eyes on last time, you silently bided them before turning around and headed to your next destination.

I have a feeling that we will meet again.

After trudging out of their sight, your body faltered against the tree nearby. Releasing a heavy breath, you looked around, finding nothing but trees and darkness. As expected, this particular part looked almost identical to any other part, making you unable to decipher your exact location under the haze of exhaustion.

However, what you were thankful for was how the forest is set up.

From an outsider’s view, it might just be like any other group of trees. However, to you and many others, the Midnight Forest is your home, deeply rooted into your blood and flesh, passing from one generation to another. Even before the initial fame, your clan has already been living and protecting this precious land, knowing its true value better than anyone else.

As a result, you knew the principles of the layout. As long as you reach the Crescent Pond, you would be able to live another day, and hopefully the others will as well.

With that in mind, you shakily lift your lantern up and head to where you hoped they were.

Unlike your previous state, your muscles ached with the slightest movement. Gritting your teeth to stay conscious, you still continued despite the obvious signs of a major blood loss.

Careful to not produce any unneeded sounds, you find yourself breathing heavier as you continues on, getting harder to cover them up. However, just the thought of attracting another batch of carnivores because of you accidentally tripping over a rock, and falling down has made your mouth dried up incredibly.

You definitely would be the prey this time around.

With another motivation, you quicken your steps, awkwardly jogging forward, but nevertheless continuing to enter the depth of the Midnight Forest.

Crescent Pond… you guys have to be there.

As you continue to walk further to what you assume was the center, you had a feeling that the moon is currently at its highest peak, meaning that you only have a few hours left until you were in a bigger mess.

Flinching at the single stray of light that entered your vision, you unconsciously stammered back, not used to the light. However, you were vibrating from the joyous feeling boiling from your core.

Finally, you’ve arrived at the Crescent Pond.

Because of its crescent shape, and the only place where moonlight can shine through, it was one of the easiest and safest places beside the center.

There was even an insider proclamation that as long as you reach the pond and know the principle, it is guaranteed that you will arrive at the center alive. You normally wouldn’t succumb to those ignorant claims, but right now, it seems to be the option. Hopefully, your desires were strong enough to manifest it.

Taking a few moments to get used to the illuminated scene, you noticed how nothing had seemed to change. The pond itself was as mesmerizing as you have remembered, glistening with the moonlight.

Relocating yourself against a nearby rock, you drowsily slumped to the ground, too tired to bother how dirty you will be. With that particular jolt, your knees immediately unbuckle and down you went.

Groaning at your unpleasant descent, adrenaline began to leave your body, knowing that you’re safe for now. Animals, especially nocturnals won’t attack you as long as you’re here, afraid of the light that would hinder their vision.

Setting your attention on your wound, the bandage that you have wrapped was soaking wet. Grimacing at the sight, you were reminded of the pain that knocked your breath out.

It seemed as though you made it worse from the constant use of it during your way here. Letting out a small smile, you rest to the best of your ability and waited for the arrival of your companion.

“ You better get here fast, Panther. I’m dying from the pain here just waiting for you guys.”

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

“ Let me go!” Taehyung yelled out, struggling to escape Panther’s hold, “ I have to go back and help them!”

Pulling the grown man towards him, Panther steadily lead the way with Namjoon following behind, seemingly in a daze.

“ Queen, you know that you will only hinder Phoenix's way by being there.”

Flinching at the harsh statement that pulled him back to reality, Taehyung stopped his scuffling yet still remained in Panther’s hold. Contorting his face in discontent at the helpless feeling, tears started to accumulate in his eyes. Trying to contain the waterfall, Taehyung quietly got out of Panther’s hold, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

Despite wearing a mask, Panther could tell how frustrated Taehyung was but ultimately ignored it, deciding it would be best for him to be alone.

Walking in absolute silence, the pair continued to follow Panther, not knowing where they headed to.

Namjoon, who had finally snapped out of his haze, looked towards Taehyung, before giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder as comfort.

Securing his grip on his lamp, he was reminded of your comment to not let go no matter what happened. And right now, that was what he is clinging to, a tiny thread of hope.

Blinking slowly, Namjoon let out a shaking breath, still not over what had just happened. However, he does have an idea where Panther is headed to.

“ We’re going to the Crescent Pond, aren’t we?”

Not glancing back, Panther replied, “ We are. It’s the only area in the forest that has light.”

Namjoon nodded, agreeing with Panther, “ Y/N would also be there I’m assuming.”

At the mention of Y/n, Taehyung perked up and slowly tuned into the conversation, hopeful of getting to see you again.

“ If the plan goes as expected, they should be there after dealing with the wolves.”

Scowling at Panther’s comment, Taehyung hisses out, “ Planned out? If this was planned out then why did those wolves attack us? Why are we even here in the middle of the night?”

“ Careful, Queen,” Panther warned, “ You should know that we couldn’t prevent this from happening. For the latter question, go ask the Master yourself.”

Recoiling at his tone, Taehyung immediately shut his mouth, knowing that it was true. Even if he wanted to complain, he would not dare to speak so rashly in front of the Master, himself.

Hopelessly sighing at Taehyung’s impulsiveness, Namjoon redirected the conversation to the current situation.

“ How far until we reach the pond?”

“ We should reach the pond in half an hour if everything goes smoothly,” Panther said.

Nodding at his words, Taehyung and Namjoon fastened their pace, wanting to close the gap between them and you.

Seeing their urgency, Panther quietly whispered, “ Phoenix will be fine. They’ve been doing this for years. Besides, they’re the child of the Crimson branch’s head. They’ve been trained for this.”

Agreeing with Panther’s comment, Taehyung relaxed at the thought of Y/n being alive.

Content for different reasons, the trio hurriedly scurried towards their destination.

☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

Leaning your head against the rock, you pondered, “ When will they come?”

For what you have presumed was half an hour of tormenting your tattered body, your eyes began to feel heavy, lazily drooping to follow the call of dreamland.

However, you knew that chances of you not waking up would probably outweigh the other if you ever give into the temptation. As a result, you had to humour yourself with the eerie surrounding.

Taking into the dead silent trees, one would have assumed that the forest held no life if it wasn’t for the starved creatures waiting for their prey.

You, of course wasn’t fooled, especially after just dealing with those rogue wolves.

Though, if one were to observe a little more, the slight swish of the leaves as it dances along with the wind held a tempting invitation to enter the forestry maze, and never leave it. You must admit that the forest, itself, behaves more like animals than its own inhabitants.

However, after that interaction, it made you curious how different these creatures were from the outside. As unpleasant as that encounter was, the wolves were much wiser and sharper than the ones you have ever encountered outside. Maybe someone has trained them but that was unlikely since you would have known them as long as they’re within the clan.

Getting confused at the possibility, you didn’t notice the slight noises behind the bushes. You were also too numb to feel the light footsteps that were headed towards you at a swift pace.

Unfortunately, you only became aware of their movements the moment they’re standing behind you, pointing their sword towards you.

You didn’t dare turn around and instead asked with a calm demeanour, “ What have you come here for?”

However, your questions were not answered. Instead, all you got were footsteps coming towards you until they were pressing you against the rock, now painted with your blood.

Wincing at the added pressure against your wound, you laughed at the mere thought of ending your life here.

“ Who sent you?” You amusingly asked, “ What’re you achieving in coming after me?”

Noticing that the person had yet to confiscate your sword, your suspicion slowly took a turn to something else.

“ Did the Master send you here?” Turning around to stare into the piercing hazel eyes, you couldn’t contain yourself and burst out, laughing. You didn’t care how many creatures would be attracted by your voice, all you cared about was how entertaining this was,” What are you doing here, Viper?”

Stumbling back at getting caught, Viper could only stare at you, wide eyed.

Bringing your right leg against your thigh, you propped your head on top of it, “ Did you really think that this was enough to trick me? Is this really your way of welcoming your sunbae?”

Regaining his composure, Viper couldn’t help but let out a scoff, shocked at your comment. Gently stroking his caramel hair, he said, “ My sunbae? You jest. You don’t have what it takes to be my superior.”

Chuckling at his answer, you slowly dragged your right hand across the grass, enjoying the calming sensation that came with it, “ You might not like it, but as long as you are alive, I will always be your sunbae.”

Reacting to your words, the brunette stomped towards you and harshly reached over the rock and grabbed your left shoulder, “ You dare!... What is this? Why are you bleeding so much?”

Wincing at the unexpected damage, you clenched your teeth to prevent a groan and muttered, “ Let go of my arm.”

With little to no delay, Viper swiftly removed his grip from your arm. You could tell how much your wound had disturbed him but decided to ignore it, knowing this was not the time.

Walking around the boulder, Viper winced at how bloody your wound was. Ripping a piece of his hanbok, he skillfully replaced your soaked ones with his.

Silently thanking him, you both remained silent, not knowing what to say.

“ … It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

“ Of course, after you took in that little brat, you barely had any time to interact with others outside of your branch.”

Smiling fondly of his little sulking episode, you teased him, “ I thought that you didn’t care whether I have the time or not? You were alw—“

Shutting your comment with a glare, Viper retorted, “ Continue that and I’ll make sure to make you enter the core in pieces!”

Knowing that you couldn’t handle his torment, you eagerly nodded to move on.

“ What are you doing here?”

Rolling his eyes at your question, he sarcastically answered, “ I’m here to pick flowers and go for a walk.”

Looking unamused at his reply, you decided to copy him, “ Really? I was also out for a walk but unfortunately tripped on a branch and have a gash on my arm that is killing me.”

By just looking into his eyes, you can tell how much disdain he currently has towards you, “ But seriously, what are you doing here? I don’t think the Viridian branch is in charge of guarding the territory.”

“ Of course we don’t. Our clan isn’t part of the physical sector like yours. Besides, it’s much better to stay in one spot and do all the tasks there. After all, the best place for us are the forest themselves.”

“ That still doesn’t answer why you wanted to kill me.”

Groaning at your stupidness, he said, “ Are you in a haze from all the pain? I’m obviously joking with you!”

Of course, you knew that he didn’t have any negative intentions other than wanting to tease you, but you couldn’t help yourself to let go of what he just did.

“ You do know that you basically broke the oath of not harming the clan members, right?” You taunted, “ Besides, I’m on my way to report back to the Master. What would you do if I blame my wound on you?”

Proudly straightening his back, he puffed up his chest and stated, “ As long as you don’t tell the Master that you encountered me on your way here, then I’ll be fine. Besides I’m your hoobae, why would you want to bully me?”

Blinking continuously at his unshameful response, you weren’t able to form any coherent responses.

“ Forget it, if you are reporting back to the Master then I’ll accompany you.”

Shaking your head at his offer, “ There’s no need for you to do that. Even though I’m wounded, I’ll still be able to reach the center properly. Besides, I’m waiting for my group.”

Perking up at the mention of your group, Viper distastingly asked, “ Group? You mean the little kids that were running around you?”

“ Kids? Hydrangin is only a few months younger than you while Queen is your hoobae of a few years,” you said, “ We got separated by an invasion so I’m waiting for them here.”

“ And you handled all of them on your own? How utterly reckless.”

You shrugged, not displeased with your decision but slightly winced at the little pricks from your arm, “ It was indeed reckless but I had a better chance of defeating them. Hydrangin and Queen aren't proficient in martial arts, and Panther is skilled in another area. It was either me or we died as a group.”

“ Hydrangin is part of my branch, he should have the resources to help you deal with the creatures here.”

“ He normally would have but we were in a hurry and didn’t want to be slowed down by them.”

“ You utterly useless group! How did you even become one of the best?”

At his words, you didn’t know how to reply and instead chose to awkwardly laugh it out of the problem. Thankfully, Viper was humane enough to let you escape his sharp fangs.

Feeling something hit your chest, you looked down to find a block of something. Glancing up at Viper, you waited for his explanation.

“ Anyways, I’ll be going now,” heading back to where he previously came out from, Viper greeted you, “ We’ll talk at another time. Make sure to enter in one piece, Phoenix.”

“ We will.”

And with that he disappeared into the depths of the forest.

Grabbing the chunk of medicine, you brought it to your mouth and began to chew on it. Despite not knowing what exactly it is, you continued to chew until you had absorbed all the nutrients and spitted out.

Sighing at the loneliness that once again enveloped you, you unconsciously mopped around, waiting for them.

To what had been many minutes later, you finally felt your heart lightening up at the sight in front of you.

Contrary to you, however, the people standing opposite of you were petrified by your condition.

“ Phoenix… you are in one piece?”

“ Of course I’m in one piece,” you answered, “ Just a little gr—“

Before you can finish your sentence, you felt a powerful force being pushed against your right side, whipping you against the boulder.

Tightening his grip around you, you felt tiny droplets begin to soak your sleeve.

“ Queen, why are you crying?”

Feeling him shaked his head, digging deeper into your neck, you brought your uninjure hand up and patted his head.

“ I’m alive so don’t worry,” you reassured, “ Now help me stand up if you will.”

Taehyung nodded, quickly wiping his tears before helping you up. Namjoon who was nearby, rushes to help you, taking your right arm over his shoulder to support your weight.

“ How did it become this bad?”

“ I was just a little careless, one of the rogue wolves got me when I was busy dealing with another. Nothing severe.”

“ Nothing severe?—,” Namjoon exclaimed.

“ Yes, nothing severe. Now if you would let this go, we’ve spent enough time here. We need to report back to the master.”

Namjoon, who was about to protest shut his mouth when he met your eyes, silently telling him that this was not the time.

And with that, you all started your way into the center, despite many disagreed eyes.

Least to be said, the center was not one would expect. Instead of being like the rest of the forest, the center was like a community, overfilling with life.

Legend has it that within the core of the forest, the center used to be the nest of the phoenixes. Or as you like to say, this was the home to the very first phoenixes. However, no one can really confirm the theory as that was even before humanity even obtained intelligence.

However, the myth still remains known as the creation of the clan itself.

The Scarlet Phoenix Clan, was an organization of occupations. Some may say that they are merchants, while some blatantly state that they are a web of the black market. Either way, the organization is known for its outstanding talents, who will accomplish any given task if deemed worthy.

The clan consisted of five branches, each named after one of the elements — metal, wood, water, fire, and earth.

The Titanium branch was your clan’s pride in craftsmanship, ranging from weapons to silverware, it was guaranteed that any product from them would be no better than the best.

Viper is part of the Veridian branch, who are masters in medicinal properties as well as poison. Namjoon is also part of the branch despite being registered under your branch.

To you the most cool-headed branch would be the Azures. In many ways, you were thankful for their patience, especially when they are the ones dealing with the paperwork. While some mainly work through the clusters of paperwork, many, like Taehyung, spend their entire lives on strategic and logical planning.

Next up is your branch, the Crimson branch specializes in physical combat. Ranging from direct to hidden attacks, your branch has it all. Known for your fiery yet strong moves, you guys wholeheartedly represent the fire element.

The final and last branch, the Golden branch was also a physical branch like yours. Specializing in long distance attack, they’re a great essential to more secretive missions. As a result, in their free time, members take shifts to help guard the territory.

With how diverse each branch is, you all get along quite well, having taught at a young age that each branch won’t survive without one another. So even if you are on bad terms with another branch, you would have to solve it one way or another for a higher chance of survival.

Members of the clan must be born or adopted into a branch and swore absolute loyalty to the clan. Of course, with this type of situation, the members could not reveal themselves to the general public and have to take an alias.

In some ways or another, it could be quite burdensome but it has to be done to have a form of assurance to the clan.

Built to showcase the five branches, the core was divided into five sections, with each area meeting at the center.

In the absolute center, there was the mansion of the Master, the one who overlooks the clan. Unlike other houses, the Master’s was the most extravagant and the one with the largest premises, simply because it is the place where most people work at — and where most documents are kept.

Countless people from different branches get employed to work at the Master’s mansion, helping the clan survive. After all, without everyone’s help, the clan would have disappeared generations ago, losing all the ancient value of it.

Following the servant that had greeted you at the entrance, you assumed that was where you are headed to now.

Walking up the stairs that leads to the Master’s study. Each step began to weigh heavier than the last as the distance between you and the Master decreased.

You have always dislike the Master’s mansion after the last Master ascended the position. The place was always filled with too much tension and mischief to your liking.

Though, you wouldn’t say anything as he does his duties properly and take care of the clan.

Once you all arrived in front of the door thanks to one of the servants, you waited for permission to enter.

After a few moments, he finally called you in.

“ Come in.”

Entering the room, the scent of medicine attacked your nostrils almost immediately. Crinkling your nose at the smell, you looked at the person sitting at the best in the middle, quietly enjoying his tea.

“ Greetings to the Master.”

As on cue, the four of you bowed down to properly greet the Master.

“ Mhmm,” looking up from his cup, he gazed over your guys’ bowed form, “ You lot are late.”

“ We apologize for the long wait, Master. There… were some issues that interrupted us from our journey.”

Raising his eyebrows at what you said, he stared at the bloodied mess of your arm, “ Issue? An issue that even injured the child of the head of the Crimson Branch?”

Hearing his slight sarcastic tone, you bit your lower lip to prevent any foolish words from coming out.

Seeing how you have taken the blow, Namjoon quickly came up with a reply to help you.

“ I apologize, Master. We were in such a hurry that the thought of an invasion hadn't once crossed our minds,” Namjoon reasoned.

“ I didn’t ask you, outsider! I was asking the child of Crimson’s branch Head.”

Flinching at his harsh words, you felt your blood boil at the audacity.

“ Master, please calm yourself,” you gritted out, obviously stating how inpatient you were, “ Hydragin was right, we were in too much of a hurry to have time consider these things. However, I assure you that it is all fine.”

Glancing at you in disdain, the Master obviously was not pleased about your actions to save Namjoon from him.

“ Whatever. Report to me about the current situation. What happened after the rebellion.”

Straightening up, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh, glad that he had moved on from the previous problem.

“ Reporting to the Master, before the initial rebellion, Corea was not doing that well. Famine has been spreading in the rural areas because of the major droughts that happen during the middle of the year.”

Continuing on about the various situations that have been happening, you put your focus on the information that you’ve memorized and not on the Master. As a result, you were made to face the scream of the Master.

“ I didn’t ask you to tell me the past! I told you to report your current plans!”

The irk that you have been desperately withholding seemed to be increasing in difficulty as the person in front of you continued to rant about your guys’ flaws.

“ … I apologize, Master,” you quietly said after his rant, “ Taehyung, would you do the favour and report our current plans?”

Flinching at the sudden call for him, Taehyung looked over at you, eyes telling you how betrayed he felt. However, you felt more than anything to get him to explain the plan, getting to take the credits.

Stepping up from his position from behind you, Taehyung respectedly looked at the Master and began to explain the plans.

Patiently waiting for Taehyung to finish, you mindfully directed the attention to Namjoon, who was the next to talk. Thankfully, this time, the Master didn’t say anything and everything went smoothly.

Almost smoothly.

Having been a few hours, your wounds have started to itch and are distracting you quite a bit. However, you had to keep things professional and tried to not show your discomfort.

Clenching your right hand to the fabric of your pants, you tried to forget the itching sensation that was gently nibbling your flesh. However, to your displeasure, your discomfort managed to escape your grasp and shone through.

Glancing over at your form, Namjoon continued to speak about the situation of the palace, “ In order to help balance and control the court, a harem has been created.”

Suddenly interested at the new information, the Master glanced over to see what your expression was.

“ A harem? This was not written in the letter. What is this all about, Phoenix?”

“ I apologize for not telling this to you sooner, there were much more important things that I had to fit into the letter and did not have the space to report such miscellaneous things.”

Despite how unbothered you sound, Taehyung felt an uncomfortable poke at his chest. Despite knowing that this was done to cover the harem situation, Taehyung still did not like how you had phrased it.

“ Originally it was decided that only the Queen would be at the position but the plan changed when the rebels started to group together to form their own fraction. There are still no leads to what they will do.”

“ So you created a harem to keep a leash around the leader?”

Balling your fist, and tensely nodded at the comment, “ Yes, Master. In order to control the fraction, I have made the leader’s oldest son and the previous dynasty’s heir join my harem.”

Lighting up at the sudden news, the Master happily nodded, “ Good, you did very well.”

Giving a slight bow, you thanked him for his praise.

“ I am expecting great results from you, Phoenix,” he stated, “ Now, you three leave the room. I have some things that I need to discuss with Phoenix. Alone.”

Swiftly bowing at the Master, the three quickly headed out.

After they left, an awkward silence was bestowed upon you. Not knowing what to say, you waited for him to begin the conversation.

“ Have you told them yet?”

“ No, I haven’t told them yet, Master.”

Leaning back against the chair, the master glanced at you, “ Then will you tell them?”

Shaking your head, you objected to the idea, “ I’m afraid that I will not have the chance to do so.”

Raising his eyebrows in confusion, “ You won’t have the chance? Hmmm… Interesting. Forget what I ask, you may go now.”

Offering him your final bow, you rushed out of the room, not wanting to be in his presence any longer.

Walking through the hallways, you noticed how bright it had become. Glancing over at the horizon, the bright light had begun to rise, signifying that dawn is coming.

Increasing your pace, you left the Master’s mansion to go to the clan’s entrance.

Looks like I won’t be able to greet him today. It’s fine, I’ll save it for some other occasion.

As expected, Taehyung and Namjoon were waiting for you there.

Nodding towards them, you attempted to step past them, leading the way. However, Namjoon was quick to block you.

Scrunching your forehead in confusion, you looked at Namjoon. Instead of looking into your eyes, Namjoon’s attention was drawn toward your left arm.

After looking down at the wound, you looked back at Namjoon, and smiled sheepishly.

Knowing what you meant, he rolls his eyes, “ I’ll deal with that when we’re on the carriage.”

Happy that he won’t treat it immediately and waste time, you ushered both of them to the exit before leaving.

Looking back to the ancestral landmark, you silently bid it goodbye.

Now, back to the palace we go.

Unlike previously, passing through the forest seemed more like a walk now. Since the sun have rise up now, the predators won’t be stupid enough to attack.

On the entire way, Taehyung, who has been oddly quiet, stuck to your side. Understanding what he meant, you only pulled him closer and entangled your hand with his, content with how comfortable it currently feels like.

Granted, you would have also ushered Namjoon to the hug but with your injured arm, doing it is much harder than saying it. As a result, you both had to accept him walking behind the two of you. Though, he did seem fine with the situation being like so.

After exiting the forest, you guys went to the nearest town and rented a carriage for the rest of your journey to the main city, and eventually to the palace.

Despite getting injured, you wanted to prolong the freedom you currently have. Having experienced firsthand how restrictive the palace is, you couldn’t help but cherish the few moments of freedom you have in the past few months.

Leaning your head against the wooden wall, you look over to the countless life that you passed by as your mind begins to drift to wherever. Going through different thoughts at such a slow yet peaceful pace that you could deceive yourself of dreaming.

When the carriage finally came to a halt, you all descended down, paid the servant a hefty pay, and thanked him.

As you left the palace in secret, it would make sense to also enter the palace in secret.

After dropping Namjoon off, you and Taehyung sneakily entered your courtyard. Taking turns to change into your sleeping attires, you both got ready for bed without a word. Practically melting against your soft sheets the moment you set your eyes on them, you snuggled further into the mattress. Letting the warm sun rays lure you to sleep, you continually wrapped your arms around Taehyung and began to relax. After getting some sleep, you would deal with your workload and the duties of a monarch.

However, as much as you want to ignore the servants call, it was practically impossible with their volume.

Flinching at the knock on your door, you grumpily sat up, careful to not bother Taehyung.

Speedily entering your chamber, the servant bowed at your form and said, “ Your majesty, a messenger from the Kim Tradings just informed that the Merchant of the South is arriving in three days.”

Blinking your eyes in confusion, still not entirely sober, you stared blankly at the servant.

“ Repeat what you just said.”

“ The Merchant of the South is arriving in Cheohae in three days.”

After confirming what you just heard is true, you slumped against the bed. Bringing your right hand to massage your temples, you definitely can’t wait until that day.

The palace will be in for a ride.

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bamfdaddio · 4 years ago

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X-Men Abridged: 1976

The X-Men, those fiery mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 97 - 102) - by Chris Claremont and Dave Cockrum

If I ever participate in Drag Race, this will be my entrance look. (“Hear me, bitches! No longer am I the woman you knew! I am fierce! I am fashion incarnate! Now and forever, the winner of season 27!” *mugs at camera* ) (X-Men 101)

It really amazes me how quickly Claremont shifts things into high gear. One year in and he absolutely does not calm down, giving us both the Shi’ar, more Sentinels and the (motherfucking) Phoenix. SO LET'S GOOOO

You’d think that, as a telepath, Charles would be used to dreaming absolutely twisted shit, surfing everybody else´s freaky dream waves, but apparently, vividly dreaming of space is so exhausting that he needs a vacation.

To be fair, I’d be exhausted too if I dreamt of schizo space bugs on detailed splash pages. Get into it, Mr. Cockrum. (X-Men 97)

Meanwhile, Alex and Lorna have absconded to the sizzling Rio Diablo to work on their doctorates. It’s unclear what they’re studying (archaeology?) and where this Rio Diablo is (Panama, Chili, Ecuador?), but considering that Rio means River, I’m unsure whether drawing a dry dry desert is the appropriate setting. But hey, this was the pre-Google era and you’re not here for topographical nitpicking, so.

Lorna is shot by an unknown assailant and continues the long, long history of Polaris being mentally overtaken by other entities. Together with the equally not-himself Havoc, they travel back to NYC and attack the plane Xavier is boarding. The X-Men battle them, until it is revealed that these former not-quite-X-Men are in league with… Eric the Red?

Scott is all: But I was Eric the Red! Also, Eric the Red does not exist!

Xavier escapes, apparently not giving a fuck that all kinds of X-Men are demolishing the JFK airport, but the still-evil Havok and Polaris also get away. The X-Men are shook!

Some time later, The X-Men celebrate X-Mas at Rockefeller Square, where Claremont skips some steps in favour of narrative expediency. Moira and Sean are apparently in a relationship, Jean and Storm are the best of friends. It’s some pretty rough telling, not showing, but we’ll allow it, but only because the Storm/Jean-friendship is one of my favourite things.

What, you think only the movies indulged in Lee/Kirby-cameos? (X-Men 98)

Anyway, Jean and Scott are attacked by the Sentinels, who continue their trend of being way too sneaky for supersized racist robots! Xavier is kidnapped on his boat trip with super-duper scientist Peter Corbeau (seriously, he has two Nobel Prizes), while they steal away Jean, Sean and Logan in NYC. When they come to, there’s some gloating from Stephen Lang.

Jean Grey being a literal pin-up while delivering nazi-burns is such a big middle finger to everything she was in the sixties and I am here for it. (X-Men 98)

When the three kidnapped X-Men make a break for it and escape the Sentinel’s clutches, they burst through a wall, only to be greeted by the cold vacuum of space! They’re not on Earth at all: they’re on a formerly SHIELD space station! GASP! (literally)

In secret, Peter Corbeau, inventor of sliced bread, helps the X-Men back on Earth board a space shuttle, where Colossus remembers his brother Mikhail (objectively the worst Rasputin), a kosmonaut who died at the launch of another spacecraft. It’s another Future Plotline Seed©.

The X-Men dodge solar storms which sounds like a made-up contrivance but aren’t, while the Sentinels try to destroy the shuttle. In what the kids these days call a pro-gamer move, the X-Men instead ram the space station and go through to these apparently sub-par Sentinels like Magma through butter. Kurt’s showmanship and Colossus’ loyalty are highlighted, while Cyclops becomes more robotic and repressed the more Jean is in danger.

Colossus’ secondary mutation is apparently BEING THE BIGGEST DORK. (X-Men 99)

Scott almost kills Stephen Lang, but then Stephen throws his ace in the hole at them: THE OLD X-MEN? This reveal throws us right in the hallmark one hundredth issue!

And, look. Stephen, this is just a terrible plan. Instead of using most of your budget on making more impressive Sentinels, you blow half of it on making janky X-Men clones to… what? Confuse the real X-Men?

It works for a hot minute, but Kurt and Ororo quickly figure out something is wrong. This Beast, for example, isn’t hairy and this Jean doesn’t remember being in Storm’s confidence. Wolverine is the first to snap: acting on instinct, he kills ‘Jean’, proving she’s an android.

Stephen Lang, foiled by the X-Men’s logical thinking skills (which, to be fair, are notoriously unreliable), spews some hatred and accidentally blows himself up. Nothing of value is lost.

Too bad the X-Men can’t return to Earth: their space shuttle is too damaged. I actually love this: going to space is kind of a big deal for most people and the fact that the X-Men have trouble because they’re stranded in space lends them a kind of vulnerability that has been lost over the recent years. Jean steps up to the plate, herds the other X-Men into the protected life cell and assumes the pilot seat of the shuttle. This is after zapping Cyclops into unconsciousness and telling the other X-Men to kindly fuck off when they try to stop her.

As the X-Men descend onto the Earth, Jean’s telekinesis isn’t enough to protect her as she’s engulfed by solar flares. OR IS SHE?

Nothing funny. All of these panels are just beautiful. Forget those robot copy X-Men, this is why this issue is worthy of being the hundredth one. (X-Men 100)

The space shuttle crashes, rolls over JFK airport before dunking in the water. The X-Men emerge, safe, sound and very lucky and then, defying all odds, Jean emerges as the Phoenix. Fire, life incarnate, etc.

After a brief but melodramatic burst of energy, Jean collapses into unconsciousness and is hospitalized. Wolverine intends to bring her flowers (aw!), before throwing them out when he realizes the gal’s taken, establishing the X-Men’s most famous love triangle. (You can fuck right off with your Scott/Jean/Warren-bullshit.)

I’m not sure what my favorite thing is here: the absolutely bonkers everybody’s-elated-panel (special mention to Kurt’s boots and his bounce) or the subtle character beat where Kurt goes all heart-of-the-team and checks on Scott, who turns out to be not so stoic. (X-Men 101)

Charles orders all the X-Men (except Scott) to go on vacation, so he can take care of Jean. Like, Charles, you’d think they could just go hang out at the X-Mansion. Instead, they go to Ireland because Sean has conveniently inherited the ancestral Cassidy Keep.

All the X-Men dress up fancy for a welcoming feast, and it seems Kurt and Ororo are flirting? But sometimes, it also seems like Ororo and Piotr are flirting? Listen, I’m not judging: I love these polycule vibes from the early X-Men. Especially because neither Kurt nor Ororo have had particularly satisfying romantic plotlines for the past 20 years.

I’m not here to insinuate nothing, but last time I said “I enjoy being with both of you”, it ended up in a spitroast. (X-Men 101)

The soiree is interrupted by… THE JUGGERNAUT, BITCH, and Black Tom, Sean Cassidy’s evil cousin. They are hired by an unknown someone to kill the X-Men! Since nobody subtle is involved, they quickly wreck the castle and everybody tumbles into the dungeons. (Local news paper reports: gay power couple harasses ill-dressed American tourists.)

This story is mostly a vehicle to tells Ororo’s backstory: Storm, one of the few who could conceivably put up a fight to Cain Marko, feels caged by the cold rocks of Cassidy Keep and is incapacitated by her claustrophobia.

Back in the USA, Charles, who’s heard Storm’s mental anguish, is furious with Scott because he doesn’t hop in a plane to save the other X-Men, even though Scott correctly points out that he’ll never get there in time if he leaves now. Meanwhile, Jean awakens, convinced she somehow brought herself back to life. Yeah, you go girl.

While the rest of the X-Men fight the evil duo in Ireland, Claremont tells Storm’s backstory in a few gorgeous spreads.

“I could write a novel about Storm’s backstory.” “You get two pages.” “Deal.” (X-Men 102)

Another classic comics trope appears here, where family members are immune to one another’s powers. I have no idea how Black Tom is immune to Banshee’s sonic scream - he has ears.

Does Black Tom just have a voice in his ears going NEENER NEENER NEENER when Sean screams? (X-Men 102)

When Storm finally pulls herself back together, it’s too late: the Juggernaut has pummeled the other X-Men into a paste and she also falls to his onslaught. IS THIS THE END OF THE X-MEN?!

Other things introduced this year:

Kurt’s image inducer, which he abuses to look like Errol Flynn. (I would abuse it to look like an amalgam of Milo Ventimiglia (ca. Gilmore Girls) and Timothée Chardonnay. OR like Emmy Raver-Lampman.)

The fastball special!

All kinds of name confusion: Lorna is Polaris, Havok is sometimes Havoc and Piotr becomes Peter.

Best new character: Phoenix. Hit me with that iconic shit.

What to read: The Stephen Lang arc is not fully necessary, just read issue 100 and 101. Don’t skip issue 102 if you want to know all about Storm’s past.

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

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Licked

🎉🎉🎉Happy birthday to the woman who started it all (at least started the LBSC exchange where I met all these wonderful crazy people to enable and be enabled by) @justknitstuff / @chromemist ! 🥳 This one’s just for you. Sounds like things have been crazy lately and I hope this makes your day a little bit happier.

Aged-up Lukanette, alternate first meeting

Rated TL for thirsty Luka lol...but there’s nothing explicit or above a T rating. Just a lot of ogling and some innuendo.

Luka’s been Jagged Stone’s guitarist for a couple of years now, and he’s seen lots of things. Weird things. Exciting things. Fun things. Not so fun things.

But Luka’s never seen anything like the designer Jagged flew in a few days ago. Unfortunately for his smitten heart, their first run-in (literally) didn’t go too well, so he’s hoping for a chance to smooth things over. A trip to the zoo, while unexpected, seems like the perfect chance...if he can stop ogling her long enough to remember how words work.

Being Jagged Stone came with a lot of perks.

Being Jagged Stone’s guitarist came with less (and a lot more headaches), but sometimes things trickled down, and so Luka found himself walking through the Australia Zoo, trailing at the back of Jagged’s entourage. The rock star had been invited for a private tour of the zoo, famous for its crocodiles, and Jagged had insisted on bringing “a few of his favorite people” along. (A few was really more like twenty, but when you’re Jagged Stone, nobody does a head count.)

It should have been really cool. Luka loved animals and hadn’t been to a zoo in years, let alone one as big and famous as the Australia Zoo. They’d been brought in through a back entrance, and shown some really cool behind-the-scenes stuff, and the rumor was they were going to get to be more hands-on with the animals than was typically allowed.

Except Luka hadn’t really seen any of the animals they’d been supposed to look at that day, because a week ago, Jagged had flown in a stylist from Paris for some emergency or other. Her work done, she’d been invited along on this tour with them, and Luka was having a hard time looking at anything else.

He’d met her shortly after she arrived, on the tour bus. She’d tripped coming down the steps just as he had started up, and she’d nearly taken him down with her, but Luka had managed to get a hold on the hand rail and keep them both from what would surely have been a painful fall. She’d been awfully embarrassed, and in the midst of some very confused introductions, Luka had made some stupid joke that had only made things worse, and she’d fled from him in a chaotic whirlwind of flustered adorable that had made it necessary for him to sit down on the steps for a moment to calm his pounding heart.

He’d only caught glimpses of her since then as she worked frantically to get Jagged ready for the finale show of this stop on the tour. As cute as she was, and as smitten as Luka had been in that short meeting, he hadn’t dared flirt with her while she was working on such a tough deadline, so other than volunteering to take her food or drinks when craft service brought them in, he’d stayed out of the way. She always flashed him a distracted (stunning) smile when he dropped off her food, but she’d been far too busy for anything more. Luka wasn’t entirely clear on why Jagged needed the new outfit so badly and so immediately, but it was Jagged and nobody even bothered to wonder why he did the things he did anymore.

Besides, no one could deny that the outfit, when it had finally debuted, had been amazing. Unlike most people, Luka had the opportunity to see it up close and take in all the details that would, unfortunately, probably be lost under the heavy lights of the stage. Even so, it was designed to look stunning under those lights, and on camera, and anyone admitted to the privilege of actually meeting the rock star in it would be all the more dazzled.

Luka certainly was. Far more than was really justified by what little contact they had, honestly, but Luka was used to trusting his intuition, and his gut (he was pretty sure it was his gut, though other parts certainly had plenty to say) was telling him that this girl was something special.

This should’ve been the perfect chance to talk to her, smooth things over, make a better second impression, pour on the charm. It would’ve been easier if he had his guitar, but still, he should have been able to make this work.

Except summer in Australia was hot. Luka had ditched his hoodie almost the second they’d gotten off the plane. Even his well-ventilated jeans got swapped for a pair of board shorts at his first opportunity.

So naturally, she was wearing shorts as well, and for such a short woman, she had gorgeous legs. Even her feet were cute in little flowered sandals he suspected she’d decorated herself. It didn’t get any better (or rather, it only got better) when he dragged his eyes above her waist. Her flowy, off-the-shoulder peasant top was somehow completely modest and unbearably sexy at the same time. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, with little tendrils sticking to her neck and bare shoulders or waving on the breeze as she fanned herself with the zoo map.

It was all Luka could do not to ogle her like a creep. How he was ever going to manage to talk to her, he had no idea.

So he hung back, trying to get his bearings and find his usual chill, while his bandmates shot him knowing grins and snickered behind their hands. They didn’t dare embarrass him too publicly, though. Luka had been participating in the annual Couffaine prank war since he was a kid and he was very creative when it came to revenge.

It wouldn’t be that hard to shove one of them into the croc pen, he was sure. Just as an example to the others.

Busy contemplating his retaliation, he stopped automatically when the group stopped, and didn’t realize he was standing behind Marinette until she turned suddenly, brow slightly furrowed in thought, and promptly tripped over his foot and tipped forward with a yelp.

“Whoa!” Luka’s arm shot out and he caught her around the waist, stopping her from falling, but she must have been startled by the sudden grab, because she tried to push him away and nearly fell again in the process. Luka didn’t let go, instead planting his feet to steady her. It only took a moment for her brain to catch up with what was happening and she stopped struggling. Instead, she babbled a breathless apology in rather confused English, and Luka grinned as he levered her back upright.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said in French, keeping his hands on her waist for a moment longer to make sure she was steady before drawing back. “I wasn’t paying attention either. Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she said, pushing her hair back from her forehead as she gave him an embarrassed smile. “I’m fine. Thank you. Sorry. Um, again. Thanks. Luka, right? I’ve been meaning to say thanks for everything this week too. I probably would have starved if you weren’t looking out for me, so...” She broke off to suck in a breath and gave an embarrassed smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Luka replied. “For both. Although Penny orders the food, I’m just the delivery boy.” He grinned at her, and she started to smile back before her eyes widened slightly and she whirled.

“Um, we should catch up with the others?” she blurted. They had fallen a bit behind, and Marinette took off in a power walk that caught her up with the group in no time.

Luka trailed behind, a little deflated. He’d barely even said anything that time, but she’d run away again. Maybe...maybe he should just back off. If she wasn’t interested in him then—but for a second there, he’d thought...

He continued to linger at the back of the group, not approaching Marinette or trying to get near her. They came to another enclosure, and Luka leaned his elbows on the concrete wall of the enclosure, trying to find his enthusiasm for the trip. Below him in the pen, dingos yipped and frolicked, tackling each other and then sprinting around the pen. He had to smile, watching them.

To his surprise, Marinette came up and stood next to him. She shot him a quick, hesitant smile, which he returned automatically, and then stood on her toes a little to peer over the barrier into the cage, leaning her hands on the wall next to him. She gave him another quick smile as she settled back on her heels.

“They’re cute,” she murmured, and then blushed and looked away.

“They look like they’re having a good time,” Luka observed, and she made a noise of agreement. An awkward silence fell between them. Luka’s face was turned towards the dogs below them, but he was watching Marinette out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure her out and not dwell on how much he’d like to nip along the pretty line of her jaw to her neck—

His salvation came when he caught her eyeing his arms as he leaned on the rail. He’d cut the sleeves off this t-shirt years ago, and he was reasonably sure that the flush on her face wasn’t just the heat. Luka turned his face away for a moment to hide his smirk, and the little ego boost was just what he needed to untie his tongue.

But before he could come up with something to say, Marinette did.

“That’s the tour shirt from what, eight years ago?” Marinette asked, leaning back slightly to look at the dates down the back.

“Yeah, I’ve had it forever,” Luka shrugged, pleased by the way her eyes followed the motion of his shoulders. “As you can probably tell.”

“At least it’s good ventilation in this heat,” Marinette quipped, reaching out to pluck the ragged edge of one of the tears on the side.

“Definitely an advantage,” Luka agreed, with a wink. “Not as stylish as yours, though. That’s a cute top. I like the ruffles.” That wasn’t too weird, was it? She was a fashion designer after all. Luka didn’t know anything about fashion but she certainly looked good in it.

“I’m not very rock ‘n roll, I know,” she said, wrinkling her nose, glancing down at herself. Cute. “But it’s me, and that’s what matters.” She tossed her head and scrunched up one shoulder, giving a look that dared him to argue.

“You’re perfect,” Luka smiled, and the pink on her cheeks grew a little darker. “You’re from Paris, right? I think Jagged said so?” he added quickly, afraid he’d made her uncomfortable. Marinette nodded, and he grinned at her, leaning back on the barrier again. “Me too. Well, sort of. We moved around a lot when I was younger but we’ve been settled in Paris for a long time.”

“That explains why your French is so good,” Marinette giggled. “I’d wondered.” She settled against the rail next to him and nudged his shoulder slightly with her own. “I bet the American ladies love your accent.”

Oh God, she was flirting with him, and it was adorable. Luka suppressed the urge to squeal like a teenage girl as he looked down at his hands, grinning. “Maybe. Just my luck the only girl I’ve met worth impressing happens to be French.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing so he could pretend not to notice the choking noise she made.

“Honestly,” he began, when he thought she had recovered, “I kind of have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth. Like when we met. I’ve been wanting to apologize for that. I didn’t mean to upset you or make you feel bad. Sometimes I’m thoughtless without meaning to be, so. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Marinette ducked her head slightly. “That’s all right. The stuttering, the word jumbling, it’s something that happens when I’m nervous. I should be used to it by now. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive, just—”

“No, wait. I really wasn’t trying to make fun of you, but I was out of line and you had every right to be mad at me,” Luka said, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “I’m sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

Marinette stared at him for a moment, and then smiled. “Thank you. I, um, accept your apology.”

“Thank you,” Luka grinned, letting his hand fall from her shoulder. “So. How long have you known Jagged?”

“I’ve been working for him off and on for almost ten years now,” Marinette told him, as they turned away to follow the group towards the next exhibit.

“That’s pretty impressive,” Luka said, and meant it. “I’ve only been with him for the last couple of years. I’m not sure I could take a decade of that.” He waved at Jagged, who was bouncing along at the front of the group, loud and gesturing broadly, chattering excitedly with their hosts (who might be the only people on the planet as croc-mad as Jagged).

Marinette giggled and warmth filled him, entirely different from the heat of the sun on their backs or the way he’d felt when he saw her in those shorts. “You get it in more concentrated doses than I do,” she pointed out. “You’re stuck with him for months at a time. I mostly get video calls, plus one or two unannounced visits and the occasional demand to fly out and design something for him.”

“Like now?” Luka asked, and Marinette nodded.

“I don’t know what they tried to make him wear but apparently it was not acceptable and he needed somebody who gets him,” she said, tone cheerful though she rolled her eyes. “I don’t really mind this time. It got me out of another project that I really didn’t want to do, and Jagged pays well. It doesn’t hurt my portfolio either.” She winked at him and he was pretty sure it stopped his heart for a moment.

“I bet,” Luka grinned, a beat later than he should have. “Jagged’s not an easy man to please.”

“You should know,” Marinette teased, leaning towards him, and then she seemed to catch herself and turn her attention back to the animals, cheeks reddening.

Luka was still grinning as he looked back as well, not really seeing them. Something caught his eye to his other side, and when he looked, he found his bandmates making kissy faces and gesturing rudely. Luka raised his eyebrows at them in warning, and they fell to snickering. Luka rolled his eyes and turned toward Marinette, set on ignoring them, but she had pulled a small notebook from her bag and was sketching one of the flowers planted along the concrete barrier. Luka sighed, but opted not to disturb her.

They were ushered on, and Luka had an easier time getting into the trip now that he’d at least cleared the air with Marinette. When he ended up next to her again, she shot him a quick smile, too excited at the prospect of holding a koala to pay him much attention. Luka didn’t mind; her enthusiasm was cute, he was really kind of excited to hold a koala himself, and he was the one she turned to at the last second, shoving her phone in his hands and begging him to take her picture. He did, grinning stupidly the whole time at her sparkling eyes and beaming smile, and took one with his own as well, “just in case.” Marinette happily returned the favor, and it wasn’t as hard as it should have been for Luka to ignore his bandmates behind her making crude gestures and pretending to cheer him on. Clearly he’d been too easy on them the last few months. As they moved on Luka made a mental note to plan a particularly creative revenge. He had to find a way to ditch those jackasses before they ruined everything.

He saw his moment when they finally reached the famous crocodile paddocks, and the family took Jagged with them into the pen, since he was “an experienced crocodile handler” (“Have they met Fang?” Luka murmured to Marinette, who giggled). By now rumors of the rock star’s presence had circulated and there was quite a crowd jamming up against the barriers to see him—and Jagged never could resist a crowd. Before long, an impromptu croc show was on, and it became obvious the tour wasn’t going to continue any time soon.

Marinette sighed at his elbow and folded her arms, pouting slightly, and Luka quickly assessed his options. Excusing himself, he worked his way through the crowd of bystanders to Penny, who was somehow managing to look both bored and stressed out at the same time. She barely acknowledged his “Hey, Penny,” when he sidled up next to her.

“I was just wondering,” Luka said, brushing sweat-damp hair off of his forehead. “It looks like Jagged’s gonna be a while and Marinette’s looking pretty—” Don’t say hot! “—uh, warm standing out here in the sun, so…” He faltered for a moment as Penny turned away from Jagged to look directly at him, eyes narrowing. She saw right through him, he was sure. He swallowed his nerves and went on. “I was, um, thinking maybe I could take her to find some shade and maybe buy her something to drink and some ice cream, and we can meet back up with you guys in a bit?”

Penny stared at him for a moment, and Luka looked back as impassively as he could. She looked toward Marinette over his shoulder, and Luka couldn’t help glancing back. Marinette’s cheeks were still bright pink and she was fanning herself with her map again.

“Couffaine,” Penny said in a warning voice, and Luka turned back to her with a sigh.

“Penny come on,” he said in a low voice. “Even rock stars don’t meet a girl like that every day.”

Penny’s lips pressed together, and her eyes flicked to Marinette again before fixing back on Luka. “You know she’s flying out tomorrow,” Penny said, her voice unexpectedly gentle.

Luka rocked back on his heels slightly, and took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Tomorrow. That meant his only shot for a date was tonight. If he didn’t at least get her number by the end of the day, she’d walk out of his life and who knew when he’d see her again, and that just wasn’t acceptable.

He focused back on Penny and flashed a smile. “Then I better not waste any time, huh?”

Penny sighed, and then reached around him and snatched the zoo map out of his back pocket. She clicked her pen, then circled a place on the map and slapped it against his chest. “You have two hours. Meet us there and don’t be late.”

Luka took the map and tucked it back into his pocket. “Thanks, Penny.”

She sighed. “Good luck,” she muttered, turning back to Jagged.

He went back to Marinette, blowing out another deep breath and trying to look relaxed as he approached her. Nothing to lose and everything to gain. Time to bring your A-game, Couffaine.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asked, when she looked up at his approach. “Penny told me where to meet them later, and as entertaining as it might be to watch Jagged get eaten by a crocodile, I’m pretty sure he’s too lucky for it to actually happen. What do you say we go get something to eat and see the rest of the zoo?”

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and he walked off at her side, flipping off his bandmates behind her back as they passed.

Marinette relaxed almost immediately, away from the crowd, and Luka winced internally, afraid she might have noticed some of the teasing. “Sorry if the guys have been giving you a hard time,” he said, as casually as he could. “They’re a bunch of clowns but they’re mostly harmless.”

“Oh, they’re fine,” Marinette shrugged, smiling up at him. “They seem nice enough, just...loud. It’s always loud around Jagged. It gets to be a bit much sometimes. I don’t know how you stand it. You don’t seem very loud yourself, except when you’re on stage.”

“I’m not,” Luka admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Never have been, except on stage. I’m used to the chaos, though. Ice cream?”

Marinette brightened. “Sure!”

The ice cream might have been a mistake, Luka reflected a short time later. Marinette’s mouth was gorgeous. Celebrities paid good money for lips like that, and watching them glide along her spoon was only half as torturous as watching her lick at the ice cream directly, trying to sweep up the melting drops running down the side.

Luka quickly took a bigger bite of his own than was wise, and gritted his teeth against the resulting brain freeze. Marinette laughed at the face he made, and that brought him back to a place where he could at least speak normally to her. For a while, they stayed on neutral topics, chatting about their families and careers in between cooing over the animals. Marinette was sharp, and entertainingly witty when she didn’t think too hard and trip over her tongue.

Luka was catching her rhythm, now. She skittered away from him when she got overwhelmed or felt she’d been too daring, but as long as he waited, she’d sidle back, settle back into shy flirting that would gradually grow bolder, until something tipped her over the edge and she ran away again. Luka adjusted to suit, letting her have her space when she needed it, easing off his teasing when she returned until she found her footing again. He was enjoying it, actually, now that he knew she wasn’t actually scared or put off by him; he got a charge out of it when he flustered her and she fled, and an equally powerful feeling when she came back to him.

The rest of the afternoon was a series of exquisite moments. Standing a little too close, leaning into each other’s space more than was necessary to read a sign or peer into an exhibit. Shy looks that grew slowly bolder and smiles that turned into soft giggles. A burst of triumph when he took her hand and she slid her fingers between his. The flutter of excitement he felt when she leaned against his arm to point something out, and then rested her cheek on his shoulder instead of pulling away. A look up at him, and a dip of his head that might have become a kiss if not for a rush of small, screaming children bumping into their knees.

They made it to the giraffe pavilion Penny had circled on the map a little ahead of the others, and Luka knew he’d better say what he needed to say quickly. The employee at the doors let them in and led them to the giraffe feeding area, giving them each a handful of lettuce, and went back outside to wait for the rest of the group. Another bored-looking employee was leaning against the back wall, but he didn’t seem to be paying them any attention.

Marinette was back to the bubbly sort of excited she’d been when they held the koalas, and Luka was loving every moment of it, but he knew the clock was ticking. He took a breath and stepped close, reaching over her to offer some lettuce to the giraffe. The giraffe sniffed it, and then dipped its head to take the lettuce from Marinette instead.

Marinette giggled, looking up to scrunch her nose at him. “I think he likes me.”

“No doubt,” Luka said, offering her his handful of lettuce, and not noticing when a leaf dribbled out of the side of the giraffe’s mouth above him and landed in his hair. “I know I do.”

Marinette blushed, and gave him another look over her shoulder, reaching up to the giraffe with another section of lettuce.

“Luka Couffaine, are you hitting on me?” she asked, the quirk of her smile suggesting the idea wasn’t unwelcome.

“I’ve been trying my best,” Luka chuckled, and then grew serious, reaching for her hand to turn her to face him. “You’re really special, Marinette. I know you have pretty much no reason to take me seriously, but believe me, I don’t get this way about just anyone.” Here goes nothing. “I’ve had a crush on you pretty much since you crashed into me on the bus, and it’s getting worse by the minute. I’ve had a great time with you today, and I’m really hoping it doesn’t have to stop.”

For a moment she seemed to glow, and Luka’s breath caught, but then she paused and her face fell. “I’m flying out tomorrow,” she said, dropping her eyes as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well,” Luka said, leaning in a little. “That still leaves tonight.” Marinette’s eyes blew wide and Luka’s did too as his own words hit his ears. “Dinner! I meant dinner, I didn’t—I mean unless you want to but I—okay forget that I swear I just meant I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“I’d love for you to take me,” she said quickly, and then her eyes widened. “To dinner! Oh my—dinner. Just dinner. For now. I mean, uh—”

Luka couldn’t help it. He started laughing, and so did Marinette, hiding her face in his chest, both of them laughing so hard they couldn’t quite stand up straight and collapsed against each other, swaying slightly. After a moment she peeked up at him, still giggling, and said decisively, “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

Grinning down at her in his arms, Luka’s gaze fell to her lips, remembering that almost kiss, and by the way she pulled that lower lip between her teeth, Marinette did too.

He started to lean toward her but a sudden, hard tug on his hair jerked him backwards, and then he registered something wet and slimy running down the back of his head and along his neck.

Luka screamed at a pitch he normally only hit during concerts, and lurched forward, knocking into Marinette as he flailed over his head. He made contact with something but it just moved away and there was another tug on his hair. He scrambled blindly, trying to get away from whatever it was, not realizing he was practically climbing his small companion.

“Luka, calm down! It’s just the giraffe!” Marinette said, hooking her hands under his thighs and hiking him up to a more stable position. “I’ve got you, you big baby,” she laughed, and he looked down, fully registering the fact that his legs were wrapped around Marinette’s waist and she was holding him up—awkwardly, since he was so much bigger than her, but securely.

If he hadn’t been so embarrassed, he might have been turned on, but as he stared down into Marinette’s amused blue eyes twinkling back up at him, he really would have been just as happy if a hole opened up in the ground for her to drop him into.

Things were going so well, too. Luka twisted around to see behind him, and sure enough there was a giraffe, staring back at him as it chewed placidly. Luka put a hand up to his hair automatically and whined when it came away slimy with giraffe spit. At least it seemed like it was all there. Whatever the giraffe was chewing on, at least it hadn’t taken a chunk of his hair.

That would just be the icing on the cake. He started to put his hand back on Marinette’s shoulder and then realized his hand was slimy now too.

Fuck, he really had no idea how to recover from this.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Luka closed his eyes and dropped his forehead on the top of Marinette’s head. “Hi, Penny.”

“Marinette are you all right?” Penny demanded, and Luka could hear the unmistakable sound of Jagged’s raucous laughter soaring over the hysteria of his other bandmates.

“I’m fine,” Marinette giggled, and looked up at Luka. “Can I put you down now, or do I need to carry you away from the big, scary giraffe first?”

“Just let it eat me,” Luka muttered, and Marinette laughed, dropping Luka’s feet to the ground.

“Not a chance,” Marinette sniffed. “Who’s going to buy me dinner tonight if I let you get eaten by the least scary animal in this zoo?”

“What’s this about dinner?” Jagged asked, perking up, and Luka groaned, slapping his palm over his face. He made a disgusted noise as he realized it was still covered in giraffe spit. He rubbed it off on his shorts and used the tail of his shirt to wipe off his face, sighing.

“You really still want to have dinner after that?” he grumbled mournfully, fully expecting Marinette to back out. When she didn’t answer he peeked out from behind his shirt.

Marinette was staring at his exposed abs. Luka grinned, and dropped his shirt. Marinette’s eyes snapped back up to his face. “I’m gonna find a restroom and clean up,” he told her, chucking her under the chin (with his clean hand) to close her open mouth. “Think about what you want to eat tonight.” He winked and she made a strangled noise.

***

Luka’s foot tapped restlessly as the plane rolled up to the jetbridge (not the gangway, as Jagged had repeatedly corrected him during the first few months on tour). They were a little late, and Luka was tired and hungry and very eager to see his no-longer-so-long-distance girlfriend.

It was torture waiting for the crowd to deplane, and Luka breathed a sigh of relief as he finally made it to the airport corridor and started making his way eagerly toward the baggage claim. He was very much looking forward to being in the same city as Marinette for at least a few months. Their relationship had grown amazingly well, considering they were limited to texting and video calls, except for one week in New York, when Jagged had flown Marinette out for another fashion emergency, and one blissful, heavenly week in London last month when Marinette had taken the train out just to see him, and they had spent the whole week avoiding the overenthusiastic rock star, Luka’s stupid bandmates, and the terrible weather in the very private hotel room Luka had spared no expense for. Even the thought of it made him bite his lip and walk faster.

He was even more motivated because Juleka was supposed to be meeting him here too, and he wasn’t at all sure it was a good idea to leave his sister and his girlfriend alone together for too long in what was bound to be a slightly awkward first meeting.

When he first spotted the girls, he only had eyes for Marinette, and only after he had swept her up in his arms and nearly crushed her, did he have enough attention to notice the giant giraffe balloon his sister was holding. The damn thing was nearly as big as Juleka, and the shit-eating grin his normally reserved sister was wearing was enough to assure him that it wasn’t a coincidence.

Luka groaned and let Marinette slide to the floor. “I can’t believe you told her.”

Marinette giggled and shrugged. “We had to kill the awkward somehow,” she shrugged. “She just got this manic grin and ran off to the nearest gift shop.”

“And it was so worth it for the look on your face,” Juleka snickered.

Luka snorted. Really it was a miracle it had taken this long; he’d had to threaten to quit to keep Jagged from plastering the band’s social media with pictures of Luka hanging off Marinette, a terrified look on his face and his hair sticking straight up and coated in giraffe drool.

Still. “Just for that,” he muttered, and grabbed Marinette’s hand to pull her close, cradling the back of her head in his hand as he kissed her. He meant it to be a simple kiss, just sloppy enough to embarrass his sister, but Marinette put her arms around his neck and pressed up into him, and he forgot Juleka was even there for at least a full minute.

Even the sound of his sister gagging couldn’t wipe the grin off his face when Marinette’s lips finally slipped away from his. “I am so glad to be back,” he growled, and felt Marinette shiver in his arms. “I’m taking you out tomorrow, jet lag or no. You just say when and where.”

“I was thinking maybe we could go to the zoo,” Marinette said innocently, and Juleka cackled as Luka sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“I like her,” Juleka said, shoving Luka’s arm. “Don’t mess it up. Although,” she began to snicker, “if you could recover from a beginning like that, maybe I shouldn’t worry.”

Luka opened his mouth to tell her where she could shove her opinion, but Marinette grabbed his collar and jerked him down into another kiss. “Be nice,” she murmured, and then shoved him back, giggling along with Juleka at the blissful look on his face.

So just because I constantly live in fear of people calling me on my BS, I’m gonna warn you now I’ve never been to Australia Zoo and while I did some research and studied the map well...try not to laugh at me too hard if you’ve been. It’s just background so I didn’t try that hard to differentiate it from other zoos. But Knit loves giraffes so I needed a zoo and Australia Zoo seemed like the easiest one to get Jagged to, so here we are. Happy Birthday, Knit!

Fiction Master Post | AO3

#quickspins #the zoo fic #i'll never not know you #lukanette #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #meet-cute #i am lukanette trash i admit it #happy birthday knit!#giraffe merchandise haunts luka for the rest of his life #giraffe stuffies pop up everywhere #the nursery is totally decorated in giraffes #he can't get away from it #he just accepts it

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