#but the clip is literally a fraction of a second no wonder I missed it before lmao

[khawlat]

Anyone else never notice Susie in the middle between them?

Just me? Ok.

[timelesslords]

prompts: could you write an in canon verse (so like gods and stuff are real) fic with amnesia? it could be post TLO or it could be one of them coming out of anesthesia and feeling wonky. i just love a good memory loss fic.

@halfbloodcarrie was instrumental in making this happen!!! Her adorable fluffy idea was completely paid dust in favor of making this angsty as hell but I blame her for me getting it done at all <3

read on AO3

Everything was dark. And everything hurt. His head especially was throbbing, but he couldn’t make out any other feeling. He could hear something; vague at first, just a ringing. But if he struggled, and he did, he could start to make out faint voices. His eyes refused to open, they wouldn’t even blink, but the noises were getting clearer by the second.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” a worried voice asked. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t even pry his eyes open, much less figure out who it belonged to.

“He’ll wake up,” a second voice said, male this time. He sounded confident, assured. At least he thought so.

“There was so much blood, I thought… gods.”

The first voice again, though this time it wavered. It sounded scared, terrified even.

“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He’s got a thick skull.”

That made the first voice laugh, watery as it was.

“Don’t I know it.”

Some feeling was starting to return to his limbs, slowly but surely. He tried blinking again, but it felt sluggish, slow. Suddenly he realized he could feel his arms and fingers, and there was a hand in his, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t felt it before.

“Percy?” the female voice asked, hopeful. He groaned. His head was pounding like nothing he’d ever felt before. Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true, because he couldn’t remember his head pounding before, ever.

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

He blinked again, this time managing to pry his eyelids open a fraction of a degree. The light streaming in hurt like a bitch, and he groaned again, closing his eyes.

“Percy,” the first voice said again, more frantically, “Can you hear me?”

She seemed to be talking to him, though he wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember his name, but she’d said Percy twice, so that had to be it, didn’t it?

He tried to say something to the girl, but it came out as a strangled groan of pain.

“Will,” she said, a little desperately.

“He’s maxed out, Annabeth, I’m sorry,” the other voice said.

The girl (Annabeth?) muttered something under her breath in-- was that Greek? And how did he know that? More determined than ever, Percy blinked again, this time managing to crack his eyelids open and keep them that way.

His vision was blurry, but a few more blinks and the vague shapes in front of him started to sharpen into focus.

“Percy?” the girl said again. Percy squinted, trying to focus on her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was-- well, pretty didn’t quite describe it. She was seriously beautiful. Her eyes were a dark grey color, currently wide with concern, her hair framing her face in cascades of golden curls. Her nose was small and button shaped, dotted with freckles.

Even if Percy didn’t currently feel like a small blacksmith’s forge was hammering on the inside of his skull, he was pretty sure he would’ve been rendered pretty speechless.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. You were out for a while,” she said, smiling. She did look relieved, but Percy didn’t miss the genuine worry behind her eyes either, the little waver along her lips trying to maintain an upbeat expression.

“I… what’s going on?” Percy asked. Annabeth bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. Percy glanced upwards, properly seeing the other person in the room for the first time. He was a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair a shade or two lighter than the girl’s. He was wearing a white lab coat over what looked to be an orange t-shirt and jeans, which didn’t exactly instill Percy with a lot of confidence in whatever medical care he was receiving.

Of course, the fact that he had no memory didn’t help matters.

“You sort of got hit in the head,” Annabeth said, wincing as she did.

“Really hard,” the boy added.

Percy reached up tentatively, to the place where it felt like his skull was splitting inside out. Instead of skin he felt something else, some thick sort of fabric.

“Ow,” he said, a little unhelpfully. The girl smiled again-- crap, how was she even more beautiful when she smiled?-- but it still had an edge of sadness to it.

“Yeah. Discus accident,” she said.

“Discus accident?” Percy asked, confused.

“Yeah. Those stone frisbee things, remember?” the other guy said.

“No,” Percy said, pushing himself into a sitting position. It made his head throb, but he couldn’t stand lying down anymore. “I don’t-- I don’t remember anything.”

“You mean-- you mean you don’t remember the accident,” Annabeth said, a little forcefully. Her grey eyes flashed, and Percy didn’t quite recognize the expression, but something in his gut told him it was not good.

“No, I mean I don’t remember anything,” Percy repeated, figuring it was best to get it out of the way sooner or later, “I don’t know where I am or who you are or who I am.”

The girl took one very long look at him. He didn’t know what exactly he had said in particular that had triggered something in her, but the concern fell from her face in an instant. She dropped his hand, something sharp overtaking her expression.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she said. Her voice was a little thick, but Percy couldn’t tell if she was crying, because in the next second she stood and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Inadvertently, Percy felt a twinge of something sad in his chest, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t know Annabeth, but she clearly seemed to know him, and what he’d said had clearly set her off.

All of this was really not improving his headache, which had resumed its throbbing with reckless abandon.

“I didn’t mean to…” Percy trailed off. To what? Upset her? Make her run away? But all he’d done was tell the honest truth-- he couldn’t remember shit. The guy was giving him a look that was bordering on disgust.

“Dude, that’s really not funny,” he said. He sounded pissed, though if Percy wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of fear behind his bright blue eyes.

“I’m not trying to be funny, I literally don’t know what’s going on,” Percy said, starting to feel a little frantic. Why was everyone here acting like they knew him? And why did he not even know him? He felt nerves and something else tugging in his gut, an insistent, terrifying pull--

Without warning, the glass next to his bed shattered, spraying water and glass everywhere. Percy flinched away from the table, whirling around to look at the boy. His eyes were wide and surprised.

“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked, alarmed.

“That was… you,” the boy said, staring at Percy like he had just grown a second head, “Styx, you’re not making this up, are you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what’s going on for you to believe me?” Percy said, still staring wide-eyed at the place where the cup had shattered. For his own sanity, he decided to ignore the boy’s declaration that he had caused it.

“Four, apparently,” the boy said, rubbing his forehead like he could feel a headache coming on, “Unless you want to make it five for good measure?”

“I have absolutely no memory,” Percy repeated.

“Great. This is just-- this is awesome,” the boy said, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, I’m having so much fun over here,” Percy said dryly.

“Right, sorry,” the boy said, wincing, “Your name is Percy.”

So Percy had guessed that correctly. Good to know.

“My name is Will,” the boy continued, oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, “The girl was--”

“Annabeth,” Percy finished. Will perked up, hopeful, but Percy shook his head.

“I heard you say her name,” Percy explained. Will deflated.

“Oh, right,” he said. He sounded inordinately disappointed, way more disappointed than he’d been when Percy hadn’t remembered him.

“How exactly did this happen?” Percy asked, doing his best not to rub his forehead again. Will sighed.

“Some newbies were messing around with the discuses on the strawberry fields-- which is stupidly dangerous, by the way, we have an arena for a reason-- but it went a little off course and almost hit Annabeth in the face. You shoved her out of the way but it clipped your forehead pretty good.”

Percy tried to process all that, piece by piece. He didn’t know what a newbie was, and apparently wherever this place was had strawberry fields that he and Annabeth had been in together? But the strangest thing of all was that Percy didn’t feel at all surprised that he’d gotten injured trying to get Annabeth out of the way. That piece felt strangely right to him, even if everything else was messy and confusing.

“So me and Annabeth are friends, then?” he asked. Will gave him a strange look, his face paling slightly.

“You guys… you’re close. Really close.”

Percy nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know why Will was being weird about it, but he believed him regardless.

“She was mad at me,” Percy noted. At this, Will winced.

“Yeah. Memory loss… it's kind of a sore subject for her.”

“Why?” Percy asked. Maybe it was a little invasive, but this was all stuff he was supposed to know anyway, wasn’t it?

Will sighed, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Gods, I’m so not the person to be explaining this to you,” he said, “But a few years ago you sort of… disappeared. And you lost all your memories. Except you remembered her. But it was really, really tough on her, she had no idea if you were gonna know anything or not when she found you.”

Percy blinked, trying to take all that in. He had a feeling that was the hyper-condensed version of what had gone down, but it explained the situation well enough. Annabeth hadn’t considered the fact that he genuinely wouldn’t remember her, so she’d assumed it was a bad joke. Percy wished it was a bad joke, because he would give absolutely anything to remember more about her.

“Got it,” Percy said, trying not to frown, “So how did I get my memories back last time? Can we do that again?”

Will grimaced.

“I think last time you drank gorgon’s blood, but we’re fresh out of that.”

Percy stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He looked serious, but Percy didn’t want to press it. Clearly last time had been a different sort of deal.

“So what do we do? I can’t go around like this forever.”

“Well, hopefully it's just temporary. Your head injury, plus the mortal pain meds we gave you, plus the nectar--”

“The what?” Percy asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, a little hurriedly. “The point is, your brain is processing a lot of stuff right now. My best guess is that it overloaded a bit, and the amnesia is a side effect. If that’s the case it should go away on its own eventually.”

“And if it’s not the case?” Percy asked, dreading the answer a little. As predicted, WIll grimaced again.

“It could be from the initial injury. In which case it would be… more permanent.”

Percy’s mouth went a little dry.

“Goodie.”

“It probably isn’t,” Will said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“So what do we do?” Percy asked again.

“You could try going to sleep. It might give your brain a chance to readjust, chill out a little. Or…”

Will trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his thought.

“Or?” Percy prompted.

“Or we could try to jog your memory with stuff you might remember,” Will finished. Percy didn’t understand why this option seemed to be so unpleasant to Will, since it made the most sense to him. He felt disoriented as hell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to calm his mind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for a good long while.

“How long was I asleep just now?” Percy asked.

“A while,” Will admitted.

“So let’s try the other thing.”

Will swallowed heavily, his fingers gripping the sides of his white coat a little too tightly.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still not sounding happy about it at all, “I’ll-- ugh. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Percy did not move, mostly because he didn’t think he could get up from his bed if he tried. Being alone gave him the chance to observe the room he was in a little bit. It was small but clean, sort of a cross between a normal bedroom and a hospital unit. The walls were made of old looking hardwood, and if he craned his head back a little bit he could almost see out the window. It looked green out there, but it was kind of hard to tell.

Nothing about this place felt familiar, but that didn’t mean much, given nothing Percy had experienced since waking up felt familiar.

Nothing except for those few flashes of feeling he’d gotten about Annabeth, anyway.

Will was gone for a long time, a lot longer than Percy had been expecting. He couldn’t tell time very well and he didn’t see a clock anywhere, but it felt like Will had to have been gone at least half an hour, maybe more. Just when Percy was about to give up and try taking a nap, the door opened again. Will was there, but this time Annabeth was in tow too.

Percy tried not to read too hard into the fact that she didn’t look happy to be there. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, though now they were narrowed in barely constrained anger, her arms folded over her chest.

Will, for his part, looked extremely nervous. That didn’t give Percy a lot of hope about how this was going to go.

“It would probably work better if you could get up and walk around, but well…” he trailed off, but Percy knew exactly why that wasn’t possible. Just keeping his eyes open had been a struggle, and he was pretty sure if he tried to stand right now he was gonna black out.

“Yeah, sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed. Annabeth said nothing, just kept staring with her jaw clenched tight.

“I figured-- you know, you remembered Annabeth last time,” Will said, still sounding nervous, “And you guys have known each other for years, so if anything is going to jog your memory… well.”

“Okay,” Percy said, easily.

Annabeth remained silent.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Will said, looking like he absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He did a second later, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

Annabeth looked extraordinarily unhappy to be there. Any care that she had displayed for him when he first woke up was apparently gone. She said nothing as she looked at him with nothing but ice in her eyes.

He didn’t know why exactly she was so pissed-- it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, and wouldn’t it be worse for him anyway? But she didn’t seem keen on speaking to him anytime soon, and Percy figured it was up to him to break the ice.

“So, um. Are you single?” Percy asked. It was dumb, sure, but he didn’t remember shit, and this girl was pretty and she seemed to care about him and well? Might as well shoot his shot.

Annabeth muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like I’m going to kill you. Cool. Definitely did not make her hotter to him, not even a little bit.

“I’m not single,” she said, practically glaring at him.

“Got it. Sorry,” Percy said. For just a second her eyes ducked away, sadness replacing anger. But then she looked back up, and her previous expression was reinstated.

“Why don’t we just stick to you,” she said.

“Sure,” Percy said. He didn't want to make her mad again, because he had a feeling if that kept happening it would not end well for him. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than complete and total amnesia, but looking at Annabeth he was pretty sure she could think of something.

She took a deep breath, a little unsteadily.

“Your name is Percy,” she said, “I guess Will already told you that, though.”

Percy nodded. She moistened her lips, staring down at the ground.

“Okay. What else do you want to know?”

“Where are we?” Percy asked. It wasn’t his most urgent question, but it felt like a safer one to ask. Then again, from the look on Annabeth’s face, maybe that was a miscalculation. She was biting her lip, the anger in her expression softening slightly. It seemed to be replaced by something sad though, and Percy found he almost preferred the anger.

“It’s… a little hard to explain. But we’re at a camp. A summer camp. It’s-- it’s where we met.”

“Why are we here now?” Percy asked. Annabeth shrugged.

“We’re just visiting,” she said.

“Together?” Percy asked. She stared at him, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah. Together,” she said, though she was clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Okay then. Time for a new line of questioning. A safer line, one that hopefully wouldn’t put her on the verge of tears.

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.

“Blue,” she said, instantly.

“Favorite food?”

“Anything blue,” she said, just as fast.

“I eat blue food?” Percy asked, confused. She smiled for the first time since he’d told her his memory was gone. It was small, but it still made his heart flutter.

“Yeah. It’s sort of an inside joke with you and your mom,” she said. The smile faded just as fast as it had come, but her answer had inadvertently given Percy more information than he’d expected.

“So I’m close to my mom?” Percy asked, unable to help it. Annabeth nodded again. She took a tentative step forward, sitting back down on the chair beside his bed.

“Who else?” he asked, without thinking. Annabeth frowned, a little confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean--” Percy started, realizing this might be a little too much too soon, but wanting to know so badly he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “I mean, who else am I close to?”

Annabeth didn’t answer for a long minute. She was looking down at the ground again, her hands gripping her own shoulders, arms shielding her chest. She seemed to be contemplating something, though what it was, Percy wasn’t sure.

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. Maybe it was too personal-- with a start Percy realized that Annabeth was probably a pretty high priority for him, given the scant details he knew about their relationship, and him not knowing that intrinsically had to hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “Just forget it, tell me something else.”

She finally looked back up at him, though she still seemed upset and unsure.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, though she was clearly forcing her voice not to waver, “Like I said, you’re close to your mom, her name is Sally. You have a sister named Estelle and a brother named Tyson. And your best friend is--” she stumbled, but found herself again, “His name is Grover.”

Percy noticed that Annabeth’s own name was conspicuously absent from that list. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, all things considered, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know this more than anything.

“What about you?” he asked, voice quiet.

It took her less time to answer than he expected, but she was still quiet for a minute.

“You asked me if I was single,” she said finally, eyes ducked down, a rosy blush growing in her cheeks, “And I said no because-- because we’re dating. We have been for a while.”

“Oh,” Percy said. He could feel his own face getting red, even though this was kind of great news-- or maybe not so great news, considering his stupid brain still couldn’t remember shit. But it still felt right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Of course he was dating her. That was just correct, an inalienable fact he felt dumb for not knowing, despite not knowing anything at all.

“Yeah,” she said, “But you don’t remember, so… so I don’t know anymore, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he felt it. He felt like an idiot, both for trying to flirt with her earlier, and for not putting the pieces together sooner. The hand holding probably should have given it away, at the very least.

To his surprise, Annabeth gave him a small smile, even though her eyes were a little red. She wiped them on her sleeve, clearly trying not to do it in an obvious way.

“Sorry, it’s just-- that’s so you,” she said, sniffling a little.

“What’s so me?” Percy asked. He felt stupid, oblivious, but she just smiled again, a touch wider this time.

“Apologizing for something that isn’t even your fault.”

“I really am sorry,” Percy said, and he felt worse with every word, “I want to remember, I do, it’s just-- all of it’s gone.”

“I know,” she said. She sounded defeated. “I guess it would be too much to ask for you to remember me twice, huh?”

She said it like a joke, but Percy could feel the real pain behind her words. He felt an ache in his chest, like a phantom pain he couldn’t quite place, something in him mirroring her own hurt. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.

Or maybe he did. His brain was a jumbled mess, but he did know the only things that had made him feel anything since he’d woken up had to do with her.

“I… I almost get flashes,” he admitted, glancing up at her again. She wasn’t quite meeting his eye, looking somewhere over his shoulder, but he continued anyway. “When you say or do things… It’s like my body knows what to feel but my mind doesn’t know why.”

She glanced up, her eyes finally meeting his own. They were still shining with tears, though not as intensely as before.

“Like how?” she asked, simply. Percy swallowed heavily, not exactly sure what to say. It was hard to describe, given he’d barely recognized his own feelings.

“Like… like when you left, before. I was upset but I didn’t know why. I didn’t know you but I knew… I knew that was supposed to hurt, somehow. And when Will told me about how I got hurt in the first place, how I was trying to keep the frisbee thing from hitting you-- that felt right, but I don’t know why.”

She had graduated to crying in earnest now, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Percy felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he couldn’t. And that hurt too for some reason, a hollow aching in his chest he couldn’t quite place even though the reason for it was standing right in front of him.

“And right now,” Percy continued, even though maybe he shouldn’t, “You’re upset and I just feel this urge to do something, and I can’t because I don’t know how.”

“Percy, please--” she said, still crying, her voice rough with tears. He didn’t know what she was begging for, but he couldn’t help his next words slipping out, like his tongue knew more what to do than his mind.

“I don’t know anything about me, but I know-- I know I love you. I can feel it. I’m not just saying it either, I swear I can feel it.”

“Percy,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper this time.

“You have to help me, Annabeth. I don’t know what to do,” he said, and this time it was his turn for his voice to get thick, a lump in his throat obscuring his words.

“I--” she started, swallowing heavily, eyes welling with tears again, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do,” Percy said, and he was sure she did, something in him just knew, “You always do, don’t you?”

That felt right too, even if he couldn’t place why, but it seemed to mean more to her than to him. She stared at him, eyes wide and scared. She was so close now, close enough that he could see every freckle on her nose.

Annabeth looked so panicked that for a second a second, Percy thought she was going to hit him, but then she did the opposite. She leaned over and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and she tasted like strawberries and salt. His lips seemed to know exactly what to do, moving against hers like they’d kiss her a thousand times-- and maybe they had. His hand moved, almost of its own accord to her hair, tangling in it, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer--

And then it hit him. The scent of her shampoo, lemony and sharp and familiar.

He gasped, not meaning to, but she pulled back, grey eyes wide.

“Percy?” she asked, hopeful even as she tried to hide it.

“Annabeth,” he said, trying not to panic as things started to float through his mind-- more than things, memories. Her face and her voice and her words, the feeling of her hand in his and her smile against his lips, it all started to flood back like it had never left.

“Are you--” she asked, her hands on his shoulders, gripping tight, too tight, but he didn’t even care.

“Annabeth,” he breathed, saying her name like a revelation, because it was, “You’re Annabeth Chase, you’re my girlfriend and an architect and you’re scared to death of spiders and you still sleep with a teddy bear--”

She cut him off at that last point, throwing her arms around him and hugging him harder than she ever had-- except for maybe that time she’d thought he was dead for two weeks and he’d crashed his own funeral. Percy hugged her back just as hard, because he actually remembered that.

It hadn’t all come back-- things were blurry, most things, actually. But Annabeth at least felt clear in his mind, a shining beacon welcoming the rest of his memories back. He was already starting to get a headache again, but he didn’t care. They would come back. And even if they didn’t-- he had her. That was enough.

She pulled back from her bone crushing embrace, keeping their faces so close their noses were almost touching. She seemed scared that if she pulled away he might too, even though he had no intention of doing so, physically or mentally.

“So you’re back? Really?” she asked, sounding scared to know the answer.

“Sort of,” Percy confirmed, wincing as he did. He really was starting to get a pounding headache. “I remember you. And bits and pieces of other things, but mostly you.”

Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a long moment.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his neck, just barely scraping his hair.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed. And he did know, now better than ever. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d woken up without his memory, but he knew every minute of it had to have been hell for her.

Annabeth sighed, pulling back further, so he could see her whole face. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her cheeks were still flushed from their kiss. But he could see the barest traces of humor in her expression, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth where a smile was being repressed.

“What?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but her smile had grown.

“Come on, I just had amnesia. You have to tell me.”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound. It was just on the edge of being hysterical, but she deserved it, after the day she’d been having.

“Fine. I was just thinking-- Hera couldn’t make you forget me but a glorified frisbee could?” Annabeth said.

“Hey, it was heavy!” Percy protested, but he couldn’t help but grin as he did. He would probably stay grinning for the rest of his life, actually.

“You’re such an idiot,” she breathed, pulling him into a hug again, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Percy said, hugging her back. And now he knew he did, in a permanent, tangible way.

There was still a lot missing, but he had the most important bits down. His name was Percy Jackson. He was twenty years old, and in college and a demigod, and lots of other things that would surely return with time.

And he loved Annabeth Chase more than anything in the world.

[krolock-in-the-snowlock]

I watched Broadway’s Dance of the Vampires so you don’t have to

Ever wondered how bad the broadway version actually is? Now’s your chance to find out, my friend...

So about a month ago, I came across a bootleg of the broadway show and, because it was late and I am a Certified Idiot, I decided to watch it and write down my thoughts. Having heard how bad it was, I knew to expect a train wreck, but I had no idea just how much of a train wreck it was going to be until I pressed play and witnessed something that truly cannot be described in words.

I was originally just going to post my whole list of thoughts but it ended up being over 5000 words (many of which were me screaming NO and wHYYY) so I’ve put it in a separate post, so click that link if you want to read it in its entirety!

Instead, I’ve decided to do a (slightly) shorter summary of ‘highlights’, if they can really be called that, with a kind of silly score for each ‘category’. A review, if you will. I’m sure I’ll have missed some things, but this should hopefully at least give you an idea of what exactly they did to poor Tanz der Vampire. Still, I apologise for the length of this in advance - I just had a lot of thoughts, okay?

A quick disclaimer: While I have seen clips of producations of Tanz from various countries, I’ve only seen the whole production once - the Berlin bootleg from somewhere around 2009-11 - so I’ll mostly be comparing with that!

I know the broadway musical is a big taboo subject, so I’m not expecting many, if any, to actually read any of this. But if you ever wondered how bad it was and didn’t want to have to actually watch it, this post is for you!

So, without further ado…

The Characters: -7/10

Let me begin by saying that many of the characters bear almost no resemblance to the originals. The worst case, of course, is with Giovanni von Krolock. A cringeworthy caricature, his awful faux-Italian accent, terrible jokes and horrifying bat form make him the polar opposite of what Krolock is supposed to be. In my notes, I actually referred to him as Giovanni rather than Krolock, because this is not Krolock; where Krolock is mysterious, aloof, powerful, and occasionally slightly sarcastic, Giovanni is silly, makes puns in nearly every line, and commands no respect or fear whatsoever. I resent that I began to ironically enjoy mocking him by the time I’d finished watching it.

Alfred is absurdly confident and confrontational, and narrates everything he writes in his journal (and tbh is probably a closeted bi). Sarah now apparently has friends and is allowed to leave her room. Koukol doesn’t exist, and is replaced by a man that Krolock hypnotises, who sometimes acts like a dog. Herbert is French, ridiculously stereotypical, and there is a very poor attempt from Krolock at pronouncing his name in a French accent. The other characters are fortunately mostly the same as the originals, although not entirely.

The Music: 2.5/10

Oh, the music… how do I begin?

Long story short, it was generally horrible. Multiple songs were cut entirely, and others were mashed together into strange frankensongs. The opening song, for instance, is completely different (and was what immediately made me realise I’d made a terrible mistake in deciding to watch it). The lyrics were mostly not as interesting as the original German lyrics, and often had less syllables, so the songs often felt empty and drawn out.

Many of the songs had slightly different overall meanings/purposes to their German counterparts, and I though that songs like Total Eclipse and Invitation to the Ball were way too sappy and romantic, lacking any of the drama and tension of Totale Finsternis and Einladung zum Ball. Krolock had been so ridiculous the whole time that Die Unstillbare Gier sadly could never have worked, even if the lyrics had been better. The singing itself was actually pretty good from what I remember, which was the only thing that saved the music, but Krolock’s horrible accent ruined many of the songs he was in. There was so much potential for it to be good if they’d just done a faithful adaption…...

I could go on forever about the music (as I do in my full commentary) but that would probably need a whole new post! So instead let’s move on to…

The Costumes: 2/10

Boring. Sarah’s red ball gown is nice enough, but all of the other vampires’ costumes are painfully simple and poorly designed. Krolock lacks a cape for most of the musical (which is a crime), Herbert is dressed in a hideous bright blue coat and an aggressively yellow wig, and the finale costumes are just simple black leather coats. It all lacks any of the detail or, in Herbert’s case, sparkle, of any of the other versions of the costumes that I’ve seen. While I should probably note that this was in 2002, it is still noticeably simpler than other productions of Tanz around the same time. Krolock also lacks his usual makeup, and Herbert’s is just ugly. And Krolock’s top hat in the opening? Why???

The Staging: -5/10

When they aren’t dancing, most of the ‘staging’ is just the characters at opposite sides of the stage facing each other. It doesn’t matter what is supposed to be happening in the scene, or the message of the song; they just... stand there. Occasionally, if you’re lucky, the characters might stand next to each other, but such close proximity is a rare occurrence in Dance of the Vampires, saved mostly for Alfred or Krolock with Sarah or Herbert and, in a strange duet about books, Krolock and Professor Ambronsius.

Krolock does pretty much nothing in Die Unstillbare Gier, and the staging for Einladung zum Ball was very confusing, at least when they weren’t just standing still. Sarah’s bedroom inexplicably becomes a cloudy place with no floor, and it was never quite clear whether the scene was a dream or not. Considering the rest of the musical, either possibility is honestly equally likely. At one point at the start of the first act, Krolock literally rises out of the ground in a huge coffin. I could go on. Also the sponge Krolock gives Sarah is a fraction of the size of the one he gives her in the original, which I like to think is a metaphor for the broadway production itself.

The Sets: 3/10

While not accurate to any other versions at the time or since, a couple of the sets were admittedly quite pretty (though still not quite on Kentaur’s level). However, there was no inn structure for the first act, and some of the sets were quite limited. One of the most popular (and nicest) sets in the second act is a huge stairway covered in a frankly impractical number of candles.

In the finale, despite the characters on multiple occasions declaring that the story takes place in Transylvania in “18something”, the background is for some reason Times Square with all of its neon signs (which I’m pretty sure did most certainly not exist in the 1800s). Whether a huge location change and time skip of a couple hundred years has taken place or whether the directors and set designers finally gave up trying to make the story make sense, I have no idea.

Worst Moments:

I just had to include this section! These are only a few of the worst and/or most bizarre moments I could pick out. I’m sure there’s more that I forgot but here are some (read: quite a few) of my favourites:

Krolock, wearing a top hat, rising from the ground in a giant coffin before saying, “God has left the building”

Krolock appearing as a hideous animated bat thing

Sarah and her friends getting high on mushrooms in the opening

The fact that Sarah’s birthday is on Halloween at midnight during the total eclipse of the moon

Krolock offering Alfred a sponge shaped like a penis then slowly tilting it down when Alfred says no

Ambronsius decorating Sarah’s room in Halloween decorations to scare off Krolock

Krolock genuinely being convinced that Sarah is a literal princess until he visits her room

Krolock and Ambronsius harmonising about books together

The big grey winged gargoyle demons dancing on the bed during Carpe Noctem

Krolock repeatedly dressing in a big grey dress and pretending to be his own mother/wife/who even knows what

Alfred angrily threatening Krolock, followed by Krolock physically attacking Alfred (this happens on more than one occasion)

The nonsense ‘prophecy’ they randomly introduce

“I use my body as a bandage, I use my body as a wound” (and this is instead of “Ich will frei und freier werden, und werde meine Ketten nicht los”) WHAT DOES IT MEAN

Koukol-replacement saying, “Okay, here he is, the man you’ve all been waiting for, his excellency… the Count von Krolock!) and Krolock waving and pointing like a rockstar as he kisses people walking down the stairs to the ball

Krolock dramatically dying on the stairs at the end of the ball for a solid minute

The Good Parts

Surprisingly, there were a few redeeming features!

Firstly, the couple of songs where they kept things very similar to the source material (such as Knoblauch) were actually quite good at times. Unfortunately, this isn’t to say that they were necessarily good, but compared to the less faithful parts they were a nice surprise, even if Knoblauch was never my favourite song from Tanz.

The singing itself was generally pretty good too! I also hate to admit that I did at times find myself laughing a little at the awful jokes.

And... uhh...

...yeah, that’s about it...

Some Highlights From My Notes:

And finally, here are some out of context quotes from my notes that I feel sum up the musical quite well:

It sounds like he’s about to start a really sad rave

I was gonna roast the lyrics some more but I’m gonna be honest I’m not sure what he’s saying

This feels on the same level of what kind of acid trip hallucination parallel universe have I landed in as seeing the Cats film in the cinema

Is this actually Deadpool in disguise with all the fourth wall breaking

Crawford looks like he regrets everything and can I just say Michael so does everybody else

He looks like a potato or a rock or that neutral nicolas cage face that people put on the sequin cushion

This sounds like a poorly written Krolock/reader wattpad fanfic

Giovanni would highkey be like lol arent i so random rawr xd on myspace

He might as well have said, “Itsa me, Mario”

They’re just stood there like two pigeons aimlessly squawking at each other

Alfred is like a chihuahua with small dog syndrome barking at a bigger dog, except Giovanni is barely bigger and is a flea-infested Chinese Crested dressed in a cheap Halloween costume

The throne glides like a magic carpet only it doesn’t leave the ground so I suppose it’s actually more like a chair with wheels, which is much less exciting

He just stands there like a poorly-dressed rock

-22/10 would not listen again

Final Comments:

So, if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading and I hope that was somewhat informative and/or entertaining for you! It took me weeks to get through the whole musical because I couldn’t stand watching it for too long at a time, and maybe you can see why! Like I said at the start of this monster of a post, there’s probably a lot that I’ve forgotten to mention, so if you’re unfortunate enough to have seen any of this car crash of a musical, feel free to add your thoughts! :D

[imsfire2]

Director's Commentary- chapter 2 of Keeping Faith: "'Captain, a word.'" through "'Thank you for your honesty, Captain Andor.'" -- Basically the whole conversation w/ Draven. This fic made me cry and I still tear up when I read it sometimes :)

Thank you for the ask, and for the feedback!  I remain very fond of “Keeping Faith” months after finishing it.

(This whole scene was written to have two people who are not very good at talking about emotional matters trying to address some extremely important emotions.  They are both of them very tense and uptight, and neither of them really has much experience of doing this, and least of all of sharing this kind of stuff with each other.  But they do care; and it’s through their conversation, as they fight for each word of it, that I wanted to explore Cassian’s state of mind and the agonising decisions and choices he’s trying to make).

“Captain, a word.”  Davits Draven touches his sleeve in passing and he stops dead in the gangway.  He hasn’t seen Draven since the evacuation.  Since – since -

Get a grip on yourself.  “Yes sir.”

(So Cassian is really struggling at this point in the story: Jyn is listed as missing following the Hoth evacuation and he’s just about holding it together a couple of weeks later with the help of meds and through having been assigned to desk duties.  The smallest thing can set him off to thinking about Jyn & whenever that happens he wants to scream.  He fears he will never, ever, ever be whole again.)

“At ease, Captain.”

“Yes sir.”

There’s a long cold pause while Draven stares at him and then at the wall of the corridor, as if looking for words printed there.  Finally he says “I saw your request to take part in the recovery operation.  Your choice of wording was – unusual.”

(authorial confession: I have no real idea what Cassian actually said in his memo)

“Sir?”

(and already, only days after he sent it, nor has he.  That’s the kind of state of mind he’s in).

“Oh for the love of life, Andor, at ease!  Why do you want to go back to Hoth?  I don’t understand why you could possibly want to return to – well, to return there.”

(I have such a lot of feels for Draven, the bitter, cold man who does what has to be done and gives the orders no-one wants to have to utter, and shoulders it all on his conscience; and a lot of feels too for the Cassian/Draven pseudo-father-son relationship.  Ever since reading that Cassian was recruited by the young Draven I’ve never seen any of their interactions in quite the same light.  If you want a really heartbreaking one-shot on this relationship, btw, read the brilliant “Biography of a son” by rapidashpatronus).

Cassian stands numbly waiting for the General to carry on speaking.  He does want to get a grip, he truly does, but he really can’t find the words to answer; not like this, just standing in a passageway, impromptu.  He worked for hours on that posting request, trying to sound professional and make a logical case.  He has no idea what this reference to “unusual wording” is about.

His mind is grey, like the ice of his long-ago home.  Gripping on to ice is a doomed task.

He’s beginning to wonder how much longer he can go on like this.

(I used words like numbly, doomed, and the images of ice, & Cassian’s feeling that he cannot express himself without having time to work out carefully what to say, etc, are all based on my own and friends’ experience of depression).

Draven does not continue speaking.  He meets Cassian’s eyes and his lips tighten to a thin line, thinner even than usual, and he waits.

Cassian says at last “I made a mistake.”

“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about wanting to go?”

“No, sir.  Not that.  A – a mistake…”  He can’t go on.  He can see it all, the enormity of it, but explaining it would be like trying to bring a thundercloud inside the ship just by the power of words, and he can’t find words, he just can’t…

(We know that Cassian in canon is a man of few words.  I have a headcanon that he can be perfectly fluent and glib on an undercover mission but when it comes to talking about himself, over time this laconic tendency has become so normalised that he really struggles.  Add in the emotional pain he’s in now, and the effects of the sedatives he’s taking, and although he knows what he’s trying to express it does literally seem beyond words to him).

(Also I do like that metaphor about trying to bring a thundercloud inside a space craft; it sounds so unpleasant, and would of course be terribly dangerous, were it not also completely impossible).

Draven sighs.  “Well.  Who gets to go back to Hoth isn’t my decision.  Perhaps that’s just as well.  In the meantime I’m extending your temporary re-assignment to the Signals and Comms team, as per your second request.  But I wanted to tell you in person that there will still be a place for you in Intelligence, whenever you do decide you are ready to return.  You were one of our best.  When you’re fit for field work again, I want you to know you can come back.  It doesn’t matter if it’s months.  A year, even.”

(Draven has a lot of faith in Cassian; after all, he wasn’t just “one of our best” but hands down the best operative in Intelligence).

“Thank you, sir,” would seem to be the appropriate thing to say.  But it doesn’t feel right.  “May I be frank, sir?”

“Yes.” Draven looks ill-at-ease with the clipped assent he’s just given.  But he has given it.  (Read: It’s very unusual for General Draven to accept frankness because it usually means the kind of trouble best kept under hatches).

Cassian grabs at the one thing he feels able to say.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to return to Intelligence, sir.  Least of all to working in the field.”

“You were one of our best,” the General says again.  “I can wait.  Take as long as you need to get back to par.”

(The General really, really wants Cassian to reach out and grasp this offer; I guess that to his way of thinking, it would be the beginning of the way back for him, from the disaster at Hoth and from his emotional collapse at losing Jyn).

“Thank you, sir.  Nonetheless.”

There’s a long silence; Cassian stands rigid with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting to be dismissed.

(& now Draven, who is also a man of few words - and my guess is that Cassian gets it from him - tries to express his own understandng of the situation and his feelings.  Not terribly well, poor chap).

“I realise,” Draven says slowly “That it would be pointless for me to push you for reasons and explanations you are clearly unable to give.  I am aware that you’ve been under medical supervision since Hoth.  Losing someone you care about in circumstances like these is – traumatic.  I do have some idea what you’re going through.”

Out of nothing, out of nowhere, for a fraction of a second Cassian feels sheer rage heat him. He breathes fast, his nostrils flare on a single inhalation and exhalation before he controls himself and commands his face to impassivity again.  Tells himself it doesn’t matter; and he looks through the wall, at the base of the vertical hull plating behind Draven and fifty metres back.  Goes numb, empty, grey.

(For just a moment Cassian is in touch with all the emotions he can’t face or handle at the moment; it’s triggered by a sudden reaction of thinking Drave is trying to minimise what he’s going through and talk about some minor personnel losses from a few years back or something, and make this about himself.  He isn’t; but the rage that thought inspires wallops Cassian like a brick.  And then he disasocciates and goes blank, his fall-back method for dealing with something he just can’t handle.  Just like in the fight after Eadu, when his emotions break through his usual control, the top layer comes out as anger).

“Cassian.”

Reluctantly he hears the sound.  Not Captain or Andor but his given name.  He’s not sure how many seconds have passed.  He comes back into himself.  “Sir?”

“We have to work alone, in this field.  We tell ourselves that, we build our armour and carry it with us.  But doing the kind of work we do, it kills, it starves something in you.  So you decide to take the risk; have a friendship or two, maybe risk a relationship; stop being so isolated.  Tell yourself it can be done, you can do it.  We’ve all done it.  I did it.  I did it twice.”

The repeated iterations of do, done, did, did make a pattern, are almost a kind of poetry; but he blinks and realises what’s just been said.  It’s an unbending beyond anything he’s known from Davits Draven in more than fifteen years.

(I wanted even that moment of open self-expression from Draven not to be completely successful.  Because Cassian is so traumatised right now and only just crawling out of the rabbit hole, he doesn’t register immediately how honest and open this is; which is tragic because this is Draven about to bare his unhappy soul, and an enormous display of trust from him, which he probably couldn’t make to anyone else.  But for a moment all Cassian hears is words making noises…).

“Sir?”

A faint mirthless breath escapes (as near as poor Draven can get to a chuckle) and the General says shortly “The first one left me and the second one died.  I learned my lesson.”  (I wanted his summing-up of his emotional past to be as succinct, and as loaded, as possible). He looks at the deck for a moment, his mouth tightening over swallowed memories.  “But I don’t blame you for trying.  Your relationship with Sergeant Erso seemed to be strong.  It gave you a foundation you hadn’t had before.  Had me thinking, if anyone on my team could manage to make something like this work it would be you.”

“But I couldn’t.  Sir.  It was –“ He’d like to break down and curl up and clutch his head again, right here in this public place, sooner than have to say this; but such melodramatics are unacceptable.  He takes a deep breath, holds it for the count of four, looks for each word.  “I told myself the same thing. That I could do both.  Make it work.  I could keep both commitments going.  I told myself I wouldn’t let either one slip, I cared too much about them both.  The rebellion, and – Jyn.  But then I didn’t follow through.  When the attack happened, I focussed on just one of my commitments and didn’t even think to look at the other; and I failed her.  I didn’t look.  I didn’t keep faith with her.  I wasn’t there.  Now she’s gone and I can never bring her back.”

(Cassian had just assumed Jyn would know what to do and would do it, because he has total faith in her - but this time his devout certainty that she is infinitely competent has backfired and because he has grown used over years to holding himself responsible for every death & mission error, he blames himself, almost out of habit).

“Officially she’s missing in action.”

“But she’s gone.  It was – it was an error of judgement.  Sir.  I should have quit after Scarif.  I should never have let myself believe I could handle both.  If I go back into the field, now, having to make decisions, having to trust my own judgement, I – it won’t work.  I can’t do it, sir.  I know now that my judgement is fallible.  It’s fallible at the most serious level.  If I can fail something so profoundly important to me, then I can fail anyone.  Anything.  I can fail the cause.  I can no longer trust myself in the field.”

(And he manages to express something of the agony that is destroying him.  It isn’t just that he’s failed Jyn but that he now knows he can fail the most important thing in his world.  This degree of failure cuts apart everything he has known/thought about himself and leaves it bleeding; and Cassian feels himself profoundly broken by that.  He has a lot of self-loathing, which has been overlayed with happiness and commitment for the last few years; but failing like this, failing the most crucial person in the most crucial way, has brought it all right back).

Silence. His shift is due to start in twenty minutes and he knows he needs to get something to eat in the mess first.  But all he wants is to go back to the dorm and take his pills, and sleep.  Turn off life for ten hours and not have to think about any of this.

Draven waits for Cassian to go on.  Says quietly, when he does not “I hope in time you will come to feel differently.”  His face is set, and sad.  “You will remain on secondment to Comms until you request a reassignment.  Thank you for your honesty, Captain Andor.  Dismissed.”

(& I wanted to end the conversation with Draven trying, in his stilted and shut-off way, to show that he still trusts Cassian’s judgement, even now when he’s this fucked up, and he’s prepared to let him make his own decisions about this).

Thank you very much for the ask!

[theolddarkmachine]

Super Late Gajevy Love Week 2017: Warm-Up Prompt- AU

You can also find this floating around AO3. As per the notes there, I am getting my writing sea legs back by taking on the Gajevy Love Week challenge that happened like two months ago. (Wah, I’m literally always tardy to every party.) There will be smut eventually, but this one is smut free. 

As far as jobs went, being a pet sitter wasn’t all too bad. Sure, the days were long if you actually wanted to make any money, and the driving all over the place sucked, but the freedom of being able to work when you wanted and to be paid to hangout with other people’s pets honestly made up for it. Levy had been a pet sitter for about six months now and while she certainly hadn’t moved into the city to do it, it was paying the bills while she was pitching her movie ideas around town. Weirdly enough, she’d ended up pet sitting for big names in the industry and though she never actually met any of them-- they probably wouldn’t need her services if they were home-- it did seem pretty cool to know she was still just one degree away.

The house she was currently headed to was one of her regulars. The owner, one Mr. Gajeel Redfox, had been gone for about two months now and requested that he have the same sitter as much as possible. Given that she worked six days a week, the man’s visits ended up on her schedule more often than not. She was going to really miss seeing Pantherlily almost everyday when his owner finally returned. (Now that she thought about it, she was sure he was supposed to be home soon.) He almost felt like her cat at this point. In fact, she almost felt like she even knew this Redfox character too. She could deduce from the dark furniture, clothes abandoned in various areas around the apartment, and lack of sentimental items such as photos that he was most likely a bachelor. A bachelor with money given he had an apartment overlooking the ocean with walls made entirely of windows just to look out over them, and the ability to pay for visits twice a day for two months straight. She quickly did the math in her head as she pulled into a guest parking spot in the parking garage for the man’s apartment complex and shuddered. She could pay her rent in her apartment with her three roommates for almost five months with what he’d paid for the visits for so long.

“Must be nice,” she mumbled to herself as she hopped out of her car. Locking the door and clipping her keys to her belt loop-- she had a really nasty habit of locking her keys in her car and learned this was the best way to avoid anymore unfortunate incidents-- she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and on top of her scarf she had had tied around her azure hair to keep it pulled back. Walking into the lobby through the door in the garage, she nodded to the man at the counter as she sauntered by. He’d stopped having her sign in after a few weeks, knowing full well that she had the code to the lockbox on the Redfox residence’s door and that if she did do something terrible the security could easily apprehend her. (Her small frame was both a blessing and a curse with this job, not that she would ever steal from a client, but it would be nice to know she could at least have a small semblance of a chance to get away if she did.)

She got into the elevator and pressed the button for the 5th floor and waited for the short ride up. Levy admired herself in the reflection of the mirrored elevator, and chuckled to herself as she took in her disheveled hair that tried to escape her scarf, the worn jeans with a stain from an earlier visit and her shirt emblazoned with her company’s logo. The first time she’d arrived to this visit she had been so self conscious and had felt so out of place. She had been certain that for a second the people at the front must have thought she was a homeless person wandering into their lobby, especially since she distinctly remembered she hadn’t showered that day and had pulled on her oldest pair of sneakers and some sweats. It wasn’t like the pets cared if she tried, but had she’d known she was going to end up some place like this, she would have at least brushed her hair. How quickly that had changed with time. Now she felt almost like she was returning to her own home. It helped that she always started her days and ended her days with Lily. It was just a short walk from the elevator to the front door, where she quickly pushed the numbers into the box so she could open the little door that would allow her to get the key.

As she started to unlock the door, she heard the purring that signaled the black cat was awaiting her just on the other side and the sound filled her with joy. His owner wasn’t one to respond to updates, but he had replied once and all he had said was that Lily didn’t like just anybody. That was pretty obvious just by looking over the updates that had been sent in on the days Levy didn’t work as the sitter that covered her shifts when she wasn’t working had yet to meet Lily at all.

“Hello handsome,” she cooed as she pushed her way into the apartment. The Bombay purred again in response as he started to rub himself against her legs. Squatting down, she started to pet him to make sure he remembered that even though his owner still wasn’t home he was still very much loved. “You’re the best way to end the day, ya know.”

“So I’ve been told,” a deep voice replied. Now, Levy liked to think she was very rational. When faced with a problem, she was very level headed, and thought through every possible scenario of what could happen and every possible solution to find the right one. But in that moment, the only possible explanation that came to her mind was that Lily had just responded to her. Which, was definitely new to say the least. She stared at the cat wide-eyed for a fraction of a second longer before the logical part of her brain realized she wasn’t the only human in the apartment. An inhuman squeak that could probably only be heard by Lily and any other animals in the close vicinity escaped her lips as her head snapped up to see a very tall, very muscular, and very half naked man standing in the entrance between the living area and the bedroom where Lily’s stuff could be found. He had long black hair that looked almost as unruly as hers was, eyes that seemed to stare straight through her, and more piercings than should could count. (And that was just from what she could see. Not that she was thinking about any she might not be able to see. Except, he was very attractive.)

“I-” she started, before locking eyes with the man and completely losing her train of thought. After another couple of seconds she just placed her hand on her chest and said “Pet sitter.”

Wow Lev, she thought to herself as dryly as one can possibly think to themselves, you write entire movies with their own worlds and characters and you can’t even string together a full sentence. There was another long pause before the man burst out into raucous laughter.

“I am so sorry,” he said, smiling at her. His smile was like the smile of a devil, beautiful and dangerous. “I forgot to inform your office that I was getting home early and that I didn’t need the visit this evening.”

This was when she should respond, she knew that. It was just that that damn smile had erased any thoughts from her mind, at least all the ones that wouldn’t get her in trouble for saying out loud. Even that annoying ass voice in her mind was dumbfounded. It was possible that since it had been so long since she’d even had any contact with the opposite sex, but he was the single most sexy human being she had ever seen. It was that, or she was cat sitting for an actual sex god. That was also a possibility. After everything they’d been though, you’d have thought Lily would have told her.

“Since you’re here, if you want you can still spend the 30 minutes with him. You don’t need to feed him or anything, I already took care of that,” the sex god continued, apparently unaware he had the power to strike mere mortals speechless. “You must be the girl he seems to love. He’s a great judge of character, you know.”

That snapped her out of the trance as a smile broke across her face.

“Thanks!” She beamed in response. “I love this little guy. I’m not supposed to pick favorites, but between you and me, he’s mine.” She stage whispered at the end and winked. Oh god, what had even gotten into her. She looked back at Lily and smiled at him as well before scratching behind his ears. Had she continued looking at his owner, she’d have seen the blush that spread across his cheeks.

“Well, make yourself at home, I suspect you know where water is if you’d like to have some,” Gajeel said. “I just got back and was headed for the shower, feel free to leave early if you want, just lock up when you go.” She nodded in response as he turned to go back into the room. She sat down next to Lily, who at this point had laid down and rolled over to get his belly scratched. “Oh, and Levy?” Her heart leapt when she heard her name roll off his tongue.

“Yeah?” She asked, looking up. The man smiled that damn smile again.

“Thanks for taking such good care of Lil while I was away. I know I’m not supposed to pick favorites either, but between you and me, you’re mine.”

And with that, he went back into his room, unaware that he had just completely stopped her heart and left her there like she wasn’t going to need medical attention. Once she heard the water turn on in the bathroom, she looked down at Lily, who was looking up at her and wondering why she’d stopped scratching his belly.

“You really could have warned me about your owner looking like that.”

****

He knew that the sitter would be gone by the time he got out of his shower, but that didn’t stop him from being slightly disappointed when he got out of his shower and saw Lily curled up on the foot of his bed all by himself. He didn’t want to say he was jealous of a fucking cat, but here he was jealous that his cat got to spend so much time with such a breathtaking human being.

“God dammit, Lil,” he growled as his heart stuttered when he thought of her wink. “You really could have warned me about your sitter looking like that.”