#i hope they play sea of love on tour its growing on me. this whole album has rly grown on me this year i used to be on the fence abt it

[toastsnaffler]

I SEE PEOPLE ON THE FLOOR SLIDE INTO THE SEA CANT STAY HERE ANYMORE WE'RE TURNING INTO FIENDS IF I STAY HERE TROUBLE WILL FIND ME IF I STAY HERE ILL NEVER LEAVE..... ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[wastelandcth]

Afterglow - cth

summary: you love living in the afterglow of performing, but a fight between you and calum leaves you in a haze. 

author’s notes: this is based off the song afterglow by taylor swift! i hope you enjoy! 

warnings: angst, mentions of cigarettes. 

masterlist || request || more songs for calum

Being a singer-songwriter had always felt like a dream, something you kept hidden in the back of your brain, the ultimate what-if. You had never imagined that one day you'd be on stage singing songs you wrote in your childhood bedroom and listening to the world sing them back. It had happened so quickly you almost forgot how to breathe. One second you were a nobody online sharing short videos of you singing and then the next you were signing a contract with a record label and going around the world. It almost seemed unreal, like you would wake up one day and all of the screams and flashing lights would disappear right under your feet. 

And then there was Calum. 

You first saw him at an award show. When the hectic moments between sets caused you both to be across the hallway from one another and his brown eyes met yours. The soft smiles exchanged between the two of you were more than enough to calm your nerves as you stepped out onto the stage and sang your latest single. You didn't know it then, but when your eyes met, Calum had wanted nothing more than to have your attention all the time. He hadn't even said a word to you, only looked at you in the lowlights of the backstage area and he already wanted to know everything about you. Even as his bandmates tugged him back to their seats in the crowd before your set began, Calum couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever had a chance to talk to you. 

When performing, a lot of things run through your mind; like whether you're on beat with the song or if you're going to run into the piano behind you. It had been something you had needed to get used to quickly, learning how to put on a performance instead of just sitting in front of your phone and singing. While you had learned to love performing in front of crowds and put on a show, you loved nothing more than when the songs were done and the lights went out. You loved how the crowds hurt your ears and when all you could see was a sea of lights and flashes in front of you. You could perform a thousand shows and your favorite part would always be living in the afterglow of the music and cheers. 

The second time you saw Calum had been when you walked out of the crowded arena, the lights barely bright enough for you to see the path that lead out to the car that was waiting to take you back home. You'd played your last show of the tour and all you wanted to do was shower before you would have to be dragged off to some after-party to drink and dance the night away. But when you spotted him off to the side, a cigarette in his hand as the smoke he exhaled floated into the sky and disappeared a few feet above his head, you couldn't help but feel like you needed to say something. 

"You look like you're running away from something," Calum mumbled, another puff of smoke floating up before his head turned to face you, "I was hoping to actually talk this time, instead of just watching from the crowd."

"I didn't think you'd still be here. Label invites don't really usually stick around too after the show is done," you mumbled, watching as he dropped the cigarette and crushed it under the sole of his boot, the crunch and thud of his boot bringing goosebumps to your skin.

"Not just another label invite, am I? Or is that all you think me to be?"

"Guess we'll have to find out, huh?"

It had started off as two people crushed against one another, the loud music deafening out any chance for conversation. Then when the drinks that seemed to be handed out every few minutes were introduced, your hands found their way to his waist, where you made sure he wouldn't leave your side. As the night progressed, the touches did too, and before you knew it morning had come and the sunlight was bouncing off his skin as he let out soft snores. 

That's what dating Calum had always been. A rush of emotions where you two took everything the other had to give and worried about the consequences later on. It was late nights when one of you had flown in for a few hours together and early mornings waking up alone while the other flew off to a new city. Being with Calum was soft words whispered in passing moments and sharing studios because it was one of the only times you two could be in the same city for longer than a night. It was video calls that lasted only minutes but those small eternities were shared between the two of you and that was all worth it.  It was chaotic and crazy but you wouldn't trade it for the world, you wouldn't trade Calum for anything. 

That was until the newspaper article came out. 

You'd woken up alone like you usually did, the phone next to your head buzzing away. The bed was warm, meaning Calum hadn't left too long ago and as you tried your best to drift back off for a few more minutes, the buzzing continued.  Your eyes barely focused, the harsh sunlight coming in from the window next to you was blinding and the only words you could make from the screen in front of you made your throat burn with bile. 

Calum, Single, Public Stunt. 

The article had been sent to you by your family and friends, many of them asking whether it was true and others asking if you needed anything. You didn't answer any of them, your hands were shaking and the anger that seemed to start at your stomach and rise up to the top of your head had made your jaw clench. As you scrolled through the article, laughing at yourself over how blind you had been and how much of an idiot they'd all made you seem, tears rolled down your cheeks. It wasn't until Calum's name popped up on your phone that you let out the shaky breath your tears had been holding in. 

"Ba-"

"So you lied that night. You looked me in the eyes and lied to my face," you muttered, your voice dripping with hurt and anger towards the man on the other line, "You know, people warned me about you and I just brushed them off because I believed in you! I believed you were better than the rumors! I believed you were more than someone looking to stay relevant in the spotlight by fucking me."

"Honey, you don't understand, this isn't what it looks like!" Calum defended, his own voice shaking as he tried to explain himself. 

"So you didn't talk to me because your label wanted to create more publicity for your band? You know they asked me to do the same thing? But I'm a decent human being and told them no, because I thought better of you and what you stood for, I guess I'm the idiot who thought that, huh?" you asked, your jaw clenching as the man you'd come to love stuttered, "Don't ever talk to me again, we're done."

"No, you just-"

"Fuck you, Calum." 

Anger had consumed you for weeks on end. The media barely saw or heard from you ever since the story had come out. Your family hadn't even been around much, you'd blocked everyone out, opting to lock yourself in a studio and write for hours on end. Your phone had been shoved into a bag and hadn't left for weeks, the constant ringing and notifications brought your anger to a new high and it had been better to just ignore everything. 

You hadn't spoken to Calum. His contact had been blocked and you weren't sure you'd ever want to unblock it again. The silence left the whole in your heart from growing, left you numb and staring down at the pages and pages of songs you knew would never be heard. Life felt like you had lost a fistfight and every time you found yourself awake in the early hours of the morning in an empty bed,  you hated the reminders he'd left. 

The letter arrived one morning when your mind was too exhausted to write and where your couch seemed like the comfiest place on Earth. The doorbell had rung and the sound of a letter falling onto the floor rang throughout the silence of your home. Your head had poked up from the couch long enough to see the envelope, yellow and taunting with familiar handwriting. It had laid there for hours that day, staring back at you whenever you walked by and it wasn't until you were laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling that you'd had enough of its taunting. 

"I know you might not believe it. But it's all here, the truth and more. Love Cal x" 

Your shaky hands read through the pages and pages of letters. Some from Calum to you, others were transcripts of emails or text messages. But they all told the truth, that Calum had never agreed to date you as a publicity stunt, that he dated you because he wanted to. You read through the emails he'd sent his label, asking for tickets to the sold-out tour to be able to see you. Suddenly, it had all made sense, why he'd been at the show alone and why he'd been so nervous when you'd caught him smoking outside alone. The pages you'd been holding were crinkled, tears smudging the ink that Calum had written showed his pain and hurt that you'd caused. With shaky breaths, you walked to your office, the piano that had remained untouched Calum had last been there an inviting sight. The seat was cold against your skin and the keys felt like strangers against your fingertips. The night went on, the moon and stars disappearing behind the morning glow and you kept on singing and writing until the alarm on your phone rang throughout the house. 

"I wrote this song for...for the mistakes I made and I hope that those mistakes can be forgiven," you mumbled into the microphone, feeling the radio host's eyes on you as you took a deep breath, "And that the afterglow can be where we meet again." 

The drumbeat was loud in your ears, matching your own heartbeat as your voice followed a few seconds after. You didn't even know if Calum would be listening, you hoped he was but after your fight and how you'd blocked him out for six months, you could only hope. The song played out for the world to hear, the smile on your face only for show as you counted down the time until the interview was over and you could go check your phone. 

"Oh looks like we have a caller for you," the radio host broke you out from your thoughts, "Caller, you have the airwaves!"

"I think that was a beautiful song," a familiar Australian accent rang in your ears, bringing goosebumps to your skin, "I'm sure whoever it's about would be more than willing to meet you in the afterglow."

"I hope he does." 

taglist: @hoodhoran​ @finelliine​ @moonlightcriess​ @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop  @notinthesameguey @hemmo1996-5sosvevo​ @myloverboyash​

[rosyfingereddawnn]

spellbound

pairing: jimmy page x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of substances, one (1) swear and a little nsfw at the end

words: 3k

summary: when in new orleans, there’s always something new and exciting to experience. when the boys take shelter in a quaint jazz lounge, they discover a hidden gem.

author’s note: this was an idea born from @timetraveller4 and her lovely mind, so thank you for that ash <3 no beta as always, and i really hope you enjoy :)

masterlist

It was Bonzo’s idea, originally.

The drummer had proposed that the band, accompanied, of course, by the infamous Richard Cole, go to a lounge for the night. See what the music scene was like, outside of their little bubble.

Touring had become almost monotonous, the endless flow of groupies blending into a hazy background of alcohol and drugs. They were in New Orleans for the night, and needed a release from the antics; a release of pressure.

Walking along the cobbled streets, lit only by tall, blinding streetlights, the hunt for the perfect spot continued. Rain twinkled like stardust upon them, landing in their hair and falling down their backs. Jimmy shivered, burrowing further into his coat, a rich navy blue, butterflies made of sparkling sequins fluttering across his shoulders. Cigarette dangling from lush, pink lips, he sighed out a faint white cloud of smoke. His long, dark hair stuck to his face and neck, and a swear burst past his lips. His curls hid emerald eyes from view like a curtain of darkness, and he shook his head.

It’ll be fun, he said. Don’t worry about it, he said. Just relax.

Robert, unaware of the glare the raven-haired guitarist was sporting, strolled ahead, eyes catching on a glowing sign, slick with rain and slightly weather-beaten. The place must be old, he thought.

Sliding closer, he gazed up at it, ocean eyes squinting against the rain that seemed to pour harder, faster, the further they ventured from their hotel. The sign, neon lights blurring into haloes of colour, read ‘The Whispering Wind’. Underneath sat a truly artistic rendition of wispy winds fading into a cloud, the pure ivory of its light cascading across the damp sidewalk like a graceful stream. You could almost feel the warmth and hospitality behind the closed doors, and Robert, whose smile seemed to light the path better than any streetlamp could, turned to his companions.

“This looks like a fine place, doesn't it?”

“Let’s go inside. Better than staying out here,” Jonesy replied, slipping past the singer to grasp at the ornate golden handle of the mahogany door. The bassist pulled the door open and stepped through, and almost immediately, he was enveloped by the comforting heat that seemed to settle into his chilled bones. “Definitely better.”

One by one, the boys stepped into the lounge, smiling as they took in the atmosphere. By the door sat a long bar, maple wood shining in the dim light filtering out from the fixtures hanging from above. Paintings of old Hollywood royalty decorated the taupe walls, while a spotlight affixed to the ceiling bathed the wooden surface of the stage against the wall in faint yellow light. The ruby red of the curtains complimented the exposed maroon brick of the opposite wall, and booths, with scarlet upholstery streaked through with pristine gold, littered the floor.

It was cramped and dimly lit, certainly not fit for the rock gods it sheltered. It was perfect.

Jimmy stood just outside the door, taking a final drag of the cigarette burning between his lips. Glancing around the cove of the entryway, his eyes locked onto a poster plastered across the wet brick of the building. The silhouette of a woman stood against a simple black background, gripping a microphone stand in manicured hands, mystery and class in the subtle curve of her lips. Half of her body was painted in a silvery light, and Jimmy stared at the long crimson dress she was wearing. Tantalizingly long legs are just visible from the slit that splits the gown.

In bold white lettering, a collection of dates are scrawled across its surface, but it’s the name that rippled across the paper that caught his eye.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Hm…”

Must be tonight’s performer, he thought. She’s gorgeous, from what Jimmy could tell; the sultry gaze, the teasing uptick of her rosy lips. The guitarist just hoped that she’s as talented as she is beautiful.

Jimmy let the cigarette in his hands drop to the floor, crushing it under his heel, smoky ash mingling with the scent of petrichor. Grasping the frigid metal of the door handle, the man’s ebony curls flew in every direction as he shivered once more. Slipping through the open door, a wave of comfort rushed over him, warmth settling into his core. The light din of unimportant conversation settled over him like a plush blanket, calming his perpetually racing mind.

Jimmy, spotting his friends at a table far back from the stage, sidled up to the bar, signalling for attention. Ordering his favourite of gin and tonic, the dark-haired guitarist walked back over to join the group, sitting down right next to Robert. The blond glanced over at him and grinned, wrapping a tanned arm around his shoulders.

“It’s a wonder you’ve stopped frowning, Pagey.”

“I was warned I’d get stuck like that, you see,” Jimmy grumbled, the hint of a smile that graced his lips shattering the image of dissatisfaction. “Hasn’t happened yet, but who knows what the future holds.”

“Ah. If it weren’t for your sunny disposition, we’d be in trouble.”

“You—”

The retort died on his tongue, and his mossy green eyes went impossibly wide.

An alluring voice, smooth and rich, rang clear and sharp through the air, charming the patrons of the lounge. The rasping tone made Jimmy’s mind go utterly blank, too entranced to react. Mingling with the droplets that danced from the black grand piano, the performer made his heart pound in his chest like a bass drum. Shaking Robert’s arm off, he turned to face the stage, and promptly forgot how to breathe.

“I put a spell on you, because you're mine. Oh, mine…”

Up on the stage, stood the most beautiful woman Jimmy had ever seen. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, a lovely contrast to the skin of her exposed shoulder. The woman fluttered around the stage, her dress, the colour of a midnight sky, swaying as she moved. She was full to the brim with restrained confidence: she knew she could dazzle the audience, but really, she didn't need to. They were already eating out of her palm.

Jaws hit the floor and every eye in the room was firmly trained on her, and the graceful smirk painting her features served as proof. She was a siren, and the audience her doomed admirers. Jimmy couldn't tear his eyes away through the whole performance, and his distracted clapping as she curtsied alerted his bandmates.

“You okay, Jim? Looks to me like,” Bonzo started, glancing over at Robert with mischief shining in his dark eyes, “You’ve got yourself a little crush, no?”

“I’m… She’s just—”

“Perfect? Gorgeous, talented,” Jonesy interrupted, catching the guitarist’s attention. A smug grin at home on his lips, the bassist shrugged, turning to face his friend. “And… standing right over there.”

Following the path pointed out by Jonesy’s outstretched finger, Jimmy’s eyes locked on a familiar figure, floor-length gown shimmering in the dim light. Stood at the bar, she rested her arms on the surface as she leaned closer to talk to the bartender. Throwing her head back in a genuine laugh, she bares her throat, and Jimmy’s mouth goes dry. The performer takes the drink offered to her, a glass filled with what looks to be whiskey in her manicured hands. A finger lazily traced the rim. The beautiful woman turned towards them then, locking eyes with the guitarist over her shoulder. She winked, and walked away, a ring of condensation on the tabletop all that was left of her.

“Hey, Cole,” Jimmy whispered into the silence that had fallen over the table, and turned to the man, whose only response was a telling smirk. “Would you… Could you, uh…”

“On it, boss.”

In a split second, the man shuffled away from the table, his parting gift a wink at the sable-haired guitarist.

------

As you step on stage, the crowd’s chatter continues, and you smile to yourself. Nights at The Whispering Wind were always like this: the snippets of conversation fading into a symphony of white noise. It calms you, being so used to the bustling New Orleans streets. This is a little slice of paradise, in your eyes.

You flatten down your dress, velvet soft against your hand, and gaze over to your pianist. Nodding back, he launches in, soft at first, but crescendoing soon after. His hand raised in the air, he looks over to you.

Your cue.

You take a deep breath, lungs filling with smoky air, and sing your heart out. Light and shade battle for dominance as you play the audience like a fiddle. Your voice, full of lust and desire, floats around the room, and you smirk to yourself, looking at the sea of faces in front of you. Everything is hazy, the spotlights blurring your vision, but you can swear someone is staring at you. A man, it looks like. His dark hair shines in the faded light, and his eyes sparkle with intelligence and, interestingly enough, appreciation. It takes effort to tear your eyes away from him, but you succeed, and belt out the last line. Your smile rivals the bright lights shining down on you, and you curtsy. The cheers of the audience serves as your soundtrack, as you step off stage, scurrying over to the bar. It takes a special effort not to gaze at the mystery man as you pass.

“Lovely evening for a drink, isn’t it? I’ll have whiskey, neat.”

“Coming right up, Madam,” The bartender winks at you, a smile blossoming on your face. He sets the drink into your waiting hands, and leans against the counter, smirking at you kindly. “Wonderful show, tonight. You’re a talent, my dear.”

“Well, thank you,” you reply, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. Your smile grows brighter, and your giggle is featherlight as it floats past your lips, “It’s what I love to do.”

Your conversation is interrupted by the sounds of whispers from behind you, and you look over your shoulder. Those eyes, the bright shade of green you had seen from the stage, were looking right back at you. He looks shy, nervous even, almost hiding behind his tawny-haired friend. From your spot at the bar, you can tell, now, just how handsome he truly is. His dark hair falls in tastefully mussed curls, and his skin looks clear, almost like porcelain. His lips are petal-pink, and look soft. His jaw is sharp, and he’s rather thin; scrawny even, but he’s still gorgeous.

Holding his gaze, you wink, and his eyes go impossibly wider. You tip the bartender and walk away, a “thank you” thrown over your shoulder. A safe distance away from the mystery man and his posse, you chance a look back, and spot a man standing from the table, patting the black-haired beauty on the back. To your surprise, he weaves through the crowd towards you.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he says, catching up to you. He smooths down his button-up shirt, and sends a charming grin your way, holding out a hand to shake. “May I ask your name?”

“It’s Y/N. And yours, if I may?”

“Richard Cole.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Cole?” This is met by a chuckle from the man, his hand going up to stroke his dark beard.

“Well, lovely, do you see that man over there, with the black hair?” You follow his outstretched hand, and your eyes fall upon your mystery man. He’s looking back at you, hands fiddling with each other. His gaze finally drops from yours, and the tell-tale blush rising on his cheeks makes you laugh softly. “He’d love to have a chat with you.”

“If he wants to talk to me, he can come over here himself and tell me that.”

Cole chuckles, and shakes his head fondly. Glancing over at the mystery man, he waves him over. From your spot, you can see the way he approaches on shaky legs, and you smile, recognizing him instantly. With a pat on the back of the curly-haired man, Mr. Cole is gone, and you're alone together. This is going to be fun.

“What’s your name, darling?” You ask, though you already know the answer. It’s not every day that a world-famous musician stops by ‘The Whispering Wind’, after all.

“I-it’s Jimmy… uh, Page.” His hands, you notice, are clenched into fists, and he shuffles from foot to foot. You press closer to him, and he blushes harder, cheeks almost aflame.

“Pleasure to meet you, Jimmy. I’m—”

“You’re Y/N, aren't you? I saw the poster outside, and I thought you were beautiful,” Breath hitching as he realizes what he just said, Jimmy slaps a hand over his mouth. His emerald eyes signal that he’s embarrassed, but you can only giggle. “I only meant that—”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Jimmy’s thin hand flies up to scratch the top of his head, and his hair falls in his face, effectively blocking him from view. You can see the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“Thank you. I, uh… you’re an amazing vocalist. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, your stage presence was… arresting.”

“So you admit to staring at me?”

“Well, I… You…”

I’m just playing, Jimmy,” Your laugh twinkles as it fills the silence, and Jimmy’s lips quirk up in a small smile upon hearing it. “If anything, I should be the one staring. Led Zeppelin’s a big deal, y’know.”

“You… you recognized me?”

“You boys aren't exactly rising stars. Being as famous as you are, I didn’t think you’d be this humble.”

He chuckles under his breath, and looks up at you through his eyelashes. It seems he’s grown more confident now, and you smile, gaze drifting down to his mouth. If you leaned in, just a little, your lips would meet, and you could finally know if his are as soft as they look.

“We’re in New Orleans for another day, uh… I was wondering if, well… God, I’m terrible at this.”

“Jimmy—”

“Could I… take you out, sometime?” His halting, nervous speech only makes him more endearing, and you gaze into his eyes as he squirms. Jimmy sputters, trying to take his words back, but you silence him with a hand on his bicep. Lean muscle ripples under your hand, and you smile at him.

“Jimmy.”

“Oh God, I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I? J-just forget what I said, I don’t know what—”

“It’s—”

“Seriously, it was probably a mistake to ask you that. I mean,” Jimmy’s head droops, hair shielding him once more, and you can’t help the fondness that rushes through you. Unaware of the smile that nearly splits your cheeks, he presses on, hands flying back and forth to prove his point, “You’re absolutely divine, and I’m just— Uh...”

Close enough that you could almost feel the heat radiating off of him, you put a hand to his shoulder, wiping off imaginary dust from his coat. Your fingers catch slightly on the bedazzled butterflies that adorn it. His eyes follow your hands as they dance and twirl across the fabric, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath echo in the slight space between the two of you. A lone finger finally finds his chin, and you lift his head to look at you.

“Eyes on me, chéri.”

His gorgeous green eyes meet yours from under his curly fringe, and you push a stray lock to rest behind his ear. His cheeks redden even more, something you hadn’t thought possible, as he stares into your eyes.

Pressing close to him, his scent surrounds you, and your lips brush against the curve of his ear.

“Tu veux un rendez-vous? Tu dois travailler pour cela, chéri.”

You pull away, and he is left with the ghost of soft lips against his cheek, the scent of your perfume floating after you as you walk away. Jimmy stands in place, too stunned to even react, until a hand at his back makes him jump. Glancing over his shoulder, he spots his bandmates, smirks at home on their faces. Jonesy pipes up, looking him up and down.

“You okay, Page? You’re looking pretty red…”

“It seems, and correct me if I’m wrong,” interjects Bonzo, as he slips an arm around Jimmy, guiding him back to their table. Jimmy slumps into a chair, stunned into silence, a hand raising to his cheek. Bonzo chuckles, and continues, “Like your crush just got a lot more serious.”

------

Safe behind the door of his hotel room, Jimmy trudges to the bathroom to turn on the shower. Slipping out of his clothes, that he folds neatly on the bed, the guitarist steps in. Steam curls in tendrils around the small bathroom, and Jimmy takes a deep breath. Hand settling on his cock, he begins stroking it slowly; experimentally. The pleasure feels incredible, euphoric even, as his mind drifts to the intriguing woman he had met just an hour ago. Her image is seared into his mind, and every touch she had given him felt like a wildfire licking at his skin. His groans match the speed of his hand as he speeds up, gripping the tiled wall for support.

The scent of her perfume, something floral, unplaceable, lingered in his nose, and he wishes to see her again. To have that scent invade all of his senses, again. Jimmy’s whimpers, quiet, yet keening, echo off the walls, as he reaches his peak. He imagines her there with him, raking a hand roughly through his hair, her hands roaming every inch of skin they could reach.

His muscles twitch as warmth spills over his hand, a soft grunt slipping past his gritted teeth. He’s in ecstasy, something better than any drug. Something he doesn’t ever want to come down from.

As he recovers from the high he had just experienced, his gasping breaths fill the space. Knees trembling from exertion, he grips onto the slippery shower wall, and whispers into the steam that fills the room.

“Y/N…”

------

(the french sentence: you want a date? you have to work for that, darling)

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages (let me know if you want to be added!)

[nalgenewhore]

ends of the earth

elide x lorcan, modern au/band au (catfish and the bottlemen), light angst with a happy ending, word count: 5197

He’d been called to place five minutes ago, but Lorcan was still in the dressing room, his phone tight in his grasp. 

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. 

“Hey, it’s Elide, leave a message!”

Gods-damn it. 

He clenched his jaw as the automated voice told him to speak after the beep, his knee bouncing up and down. Stealing one last glance at the door, like someone would burst through it and drag him away before he could say what he needed to, Lorcan waited anxiously. 

Beep.

“Hey, Lee, it’s me. I, um, I don’t have that long ‘cause I was supposed to be in my place… five minutes ago, but I just wanted to say that…” Lorcan trailed, narrowing his eyes as he tried to order his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I’ve been gone so long.” His knee bounced again, uncontrollably. “I really miss you. Just call me back, please. I love you, sweetheart. Forever.”

With that, Lorcan hung up and shoved his phone into his bag before standing and grabbing his electric guitar from its velvet-lined case. He didn’t let any of the attendants touch it, or anyone else – besides Elide – for that matter. 

He carried it out of the room with him, ducking his head as he moved through the backstage area to the left wing of the stage, where the rest of his band was waiting. Fenrys saw him first and clapped his hands together slowly, drawling, “Well, boys, aren’t we blessed? Our—”

“Can you not? For one fucking day?” Lorcan snapped, not having any of the energy he usually had to deal with his drummer’s mouth. Fenrys’ eyes widened and he all but froze, shocked by Lorcan’s response. The others quieted as well, all looking at Lorcan. He scowled and slipped the strap of his instrument over his head, tersely adjusting it so that it hung low over his hips. 

When his bandmates were all still silent, he looked up, shame flooding through. “Fen, I’m- I’m sorry. It was just… stuff with ‘lide.”

“‘s’ok,” Fenrys said, shrugging. He grinned wildly, “I was being a shit.”

Lorcan nodded once in thanks or acknowledgement of Fenrys’ unsaid forgiveness, he wasn’t sure which it was. He sat down on some ledge, mindlessly tuning his guitar as they waited for the opening band to wrap their set up so that they could play.

Someone sat down next to him. Without looking, Lorcan knew that it was Rowan. The bassist was the most level-headed of them all and the only one with enough emotional maturity to talk to Lorcan about the growing issues between him and his girl. Rowan bumped his shoulder into Lorcan’s. “You, ah… feel like… talking ‘bout it?”

Lorcan snorted and chuckled lowly, “You know, not even a ‘lil bit, Ro.” He lifted his head and rolled his eyes at Rowan’s pointed look. “Hellas below, man, it’s just… we aren’t breaking up.” Neither of them wanted that, that Lorcan knew. “The touring’s a lot for both of us. It’s a lot for all of us,” he added, glancing at the rest of the band, who were all lazing on their behinds. 

Rowan nodded, “Yeah. It is.” His shoulders slumped, straining against his loose cotton shirt, which was only three-quarters of the way buttoned. “You know that if you need to talk, I’m here, right?”

The lead singer just barely managed to stop his second eye-roll and nodded, lips tight. “Mm-hm. I know.”

Luckily, just then, the backstage lights flashed and Lorcan was spared from further needling. Someone came by as their opening band filed off of the stage, looking high off the ecstasy that was performing in front of a live crowd, and handed Lorcan, Rowan, Vaughan, Fenrys, and Connall their earpieces. 

Lorcan fit his in his left ear, as he had a new double conch piercing in the right, and tucked his necklace beneath the collar of his faded t-shirt. It was a simple piece of jewellery, the only one he never took off. The chain was gold and from it dangled a viper pendant, twin to the same piece that hung from Elide’s slim throat. 

Fenrys and Connall were the first to walk on, one to the drumset and the other to the keyboard. They shouted back at the crowd, always ones to rile them up and feed off of the crowd’s energy. 

Next was Vaughan, the backup guitarist, who wore a prideful smirk, his dark eyes scanning seductively over the mass of fans. Lorcan shook his head at his cousin and Rowan strolled out, plucking absentmindedly at his bass. He waved after he found his position behind one of the three microphones. Vaughan was behind the other, playing a riff on his guitar, his fingers sliding up and down the fretboard.

Lorcan waited a moment more, his eyes closed for a fleeting second. When he opened them, he stepped out, the lights immediately blinding and heavy on him. The cheers and screams from the sea of people were deafening, but he was used to it. 

He put on a golden grin, one corner of his lips higher than the other. Elide always liked to kiss him when he was smiling like this, pressing her round and sweet lips against the corner, her fingertips resting on his jawline. 

The smile faltered for a second. The very next, it was as though he’d glitched, pasting that same smile back on. Lorcan lifted one hand to pull the microphone closer to him, “Evening, Varese. How we all doing? Good?” They roared back and he chuckled, nodding his head, “Alright, alright, no need to scream and shout. That’s our job.” Lorcan glanced at the boys one by one, nodding when they nodded at him. 

“Let’s kick it!” Fenrys shouted, tapping his drumsticks together before he launched into song. 

Lorcan heard the music in his earpiece and played his guitar as he began to sing, “You’re simpatico… and of all the lift-homes and all the mixed feelings, you’re cuts above…”

He knew that the crowd was singing along, but he couldn’t discern the lyrics that ripped from their throats. 

“And I’d co-o-o-me… you can leather me with your li-i-i-ips…” 

Fenrys slammed down against his drums and Lorcan sang roughly into the mic, his eyes closed, “I’ve got to give it to you – you give me problems! When you are not in the mood…”

One song bled into the next and into the next until they reached the track they hadn’t put on the album. Lorcan had written it days ago, when they’d been flying to the next city. The minute they’d touched down, the whole band was asking their manager to take them to the nearest studio to record and perfect it. 

Unlike their other songs, this one was Lorcan’s only. Only he had written the lyrics, only he had figured out the chords. The boys had just known how badly he needed this, so they’d agreed without question, without hesitation. 

“This next song’s…” Lorcan started, his heart thumping against his ribcage, “about a very, very special girl. My favourite girl in the whole world, really.” And I hope she hears this. He looked back at the others and nodded, his lips set in a grim line.

He plucked at his guitar, leaning into the mic, “I got misled, mistook, discard… anything that I said. See, I’m not the type to call you up drunk, but I got some lies to tell.”

Fenrys joined in gently, as did Connall. Still, it was only Lorcan who sang, “She hates her work, but loves to flirt.” When he’d first met Elide, they’d both been working at the same recording studio. People had told him she flirted with everyone, so he hadn’t known that she was even interested until one night she’d taken his face in her hands and kissed him in plain sight of all their coworkers, flipping them off as she did so. “It’s a shame she don’t work with me.

“She gets uptight, don’t like when I’m gone, but she won’t let on to me,” he continued, hating the fact that Elide was pulling away from him and hating the fact that he didn’t know how deeply his absence affected her. 

Lorcan stepped back as they played up to the chorus, playing a little harder and letting a little more grunge bleed into the notes. He moved back to the mic, singing louder as the rest of the band started to play, “I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie… I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try.”

He didn’t hear the cheers of the crowd, ignored them as they shouted his name and screamed. This wasn’t for them – it was for Elide. All Lorcan could do was play hard enough so that maybe she could hear, never mind that she was an ocean away. 

Lorcan let go of his guitar, letting Vaughan take the lead when he took the mic, “I got mistook and took dissent, and it’s not as if you didn’t no-otice.” He leaned forward, “But I try to steer you clear of this place and I wound up with nothing to show for it!”

He stood up again, pushing his guitar around his back, “You never got that from me. She said you never got that from me, she said you never got that from me… 

“Oh, but I said you got that look from me-e,” his throat felt raw. With the speakers behind him, Lorcan could hardly hear himself. As the song built back up to the chorus, Lorcan took his guitar back in hand and strummed aggressively, his head moving back and forth with the beat. 

“I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie, I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try.” Lorcan inhaled sharply, “I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie, I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try!”

He walked backwards a few paces for his guitar solo, only looking at the ‘E’ carved into his instrument, right where the neck connected to the body. Tears burned his eyes and Lorcan blinked them away, tensing his jaw. 

Then, he pulled the microphone towards him and let go of his instrument. As he sang the last lines, one hand pushed his long hair back, “I got misled, mistook, discard… anything that I said. See, I’m not the type to call you up drunk, but I’ve got some lies to tell…”

<3<3<3

Elide bit her thumbnail as the phone line droned on. Her hands shook and she paced back and forth in front of their living room window. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Please, please, please pick up. 

She’d watched Lorcan’s show through a livestream from somebody in the crowd. It’d been shaky and grainy, the audio blown, but she’d heard the song and more importantly, what Lorcan had said before it.

The line clicked, “Sweetheart?”

“Hi,” she breathed, her voice airy. Elide cleared her throat, “H-hi. It’s me.”

Lorcan chuckled. He sounded almost… relieved. “I know, I just- I just didn’t… know if you were going to call.” 

Her heart sank slightly and she opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Elide knew that there was a… there was a rift between them and she hadn’t made it easy for him to fix it. He doesn’t make it easy to love him, either. “I watched your show, baby. That new song…” she trailed off, not sure how to force the words out. 

“Did… do you not like it?” he asked, sounding nervous. 

“No! No, I loved it,” Elide said, sinking onto the windowsill and lifting her foot to rest her heel against the ledge. The hem of her boyfriend’s shirt bunched around the tops of her thighs and she fingered the holes dotting the edge. “It was great, Lor, really.” Elide looked down, her cheeks heating despite the fact that she was alone and he couldn’t see her. “Is it about me?”

“Lee… everything I write is about you,” he mumbled. “It’s all for you. I- I…” Lorcan exhaled. “Just give me a minute, won’t you? I can move somewhere else and we can FaceTime?”

She grinned and nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that. I miss seeing your face.”

“I miss seeing you too,” Lorcan murmured. “Ok, I’ll call you back, alright?”

“Ok. And I love you too. Always.” 

Lorcan clicked his tongue lightly, teasingly saying, “You’re such a sap.”

Elide rolled her eyes, “Good-bye.”

He was laughing as he hung up and Elide got to her feet, prancing over to their bedroom. It was late and she knew she most likely fall asleep while talking to him. It had been hard to sleep without him next to her. 

Elide had just settled in when her phone rang again, this time with a FaceTime call from Lorcan. She pressed the green icon and grinned at her screen as the call connected, her boyfriend’s face coming into focus, even if it was a little grainy. “Hi, baby.”

Lorcan’s smile was lopsided, her favourite smile of his. “Hey, sweetheart.” He was in his hotel bed, one hand tucked behind him, his head cradled by his tattoo-covered bicep. “How’re ya doing?”

“I’m ok,” she said, propping her phone against the headboard and cushioning her chin with a fluffy pillow. “I went to the studio today and worked on a new song.”

“Really? D’you reckon it’s any good?”

Elide shrugged, “Not sure yet. It doesn’t have that… it doesn’t have that thing, you know?”

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

For a moment, neither of them knew what to say, so they didn’t say anything. 

Then, they both opened their mouths to talk at the same time. “I wanted to—” “We should– oh, you- you can go.”

Elide nodded, trying to summon courage she wasn’t sure that she had. “I’m… I wanted to talk. About you being gone.” Lorcan dipped his chin, his face grave as he encouraged her on. Tears sprung in her eyes and she whispered, “I miss you. Everything, everything comes back to that. I miss you. Whenever I’m angry at you, it’s ‘cause you’re not here and I- I just get more and more mad at that.” She wiped her cheeks and looked down at her hands, flicking her eyes to her bitten nails. “I’m biting my nails again.”

“You hate biting your nails,” Lorcan said softly, his eyes reflecting deep sorrow. “And-” he shifted, sitting up. “I know. I know that I’m gone too much. I know that- that I’m never there.” He frowned. “I want to come home, sweetheart, I want to be with you, I promise. I’m- I’m so tired of touring.” Lorcan rubbed his eyes. “Um… I talked to the boys. We’re… we don’t want to tour anymore. We’re just done.”

She gasped softly, her vision blurring. In a whisper, Elide told him: “Don’t say that if you don’t m-mean it.” 

“Lee, of course I mean that. You really think I would…”

Elide shrugged, “I feel like I don’t know you, L. You’re... you aren’t Lorcan, you’re,” she did a dramatic hand gesture, “Lorcan Salvaterre, lead heartthrob of the Bloodsworn. And I still think that name is far too reminiscent of teenaged angst.”

He snorted and closed his yawns, rubbing his head against the crinkling crisp pillow. “Yeah… probably right about that one, love.” Lorcan sighed through his nose and slit his eyes open, “I know we aren’t finished with this.” 

She nodded, fiddling with something. “Lor…” her lips trembled. “Your tour is done in a month.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But, we- we can make it. Can’t we? I mean, I’ve already written the sad song where I’m the shit boyfriend, right? We can- we can talk.” Lorcan pushed his silky hair back. 

“Yeah. I’m just sad. I… I’m scared that I’ll feel like this again and we’ll never make up again. What happens then?”

Lorcan ran his tongue over his teeth and the muscles in his jaw feathered, “Lee, I… do you want to break up? Is that what you want?”

The words hit her like a blow and Elide physically recoiled, “No, of course that’s not what I want!” She made a helpless motion with her hands, “But what if that’s not enough? What if the fact that we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together isn’t enough?” Her throat was tight, so she swallowed past it, “I… I’m scared.”

“So am I,” Lorcan said. “We want the same things, I just… I think that’s enough. Can’t that be enough?”

She shrugged and looked down at her lap, picking at the pillow case. “Maybe it is. I guess- well, not guess, but… maybe that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. Elide smiled back at him, her heart fluttering. 

They spoke for a while more until their voices became drowsy and heavy with slumber. Elide pulled the duvet over her and snuggled her cheek against the pillow that smelled most like his cologne. Her eyes slipped shut and she struggled to open them again, only for them to fall shut again. 

Lorcan laughed softly, “Sweetheart, go to sleep. You’re falling asleep.”

She sighed softly and hummed, “No, ‘m not. ‘m just… resting, baby.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing, hmm?” he teased, his smile easy and warm. 

Elide nodded, “Yeah…” She pursed her lips and exhaled a puff of air, pulling the duvet up tighter. “Mmm… g’night, Salvaterre.”

“Sweet dreams, Lochan.” 

Mere seconds later, Elide fell asleep. When she woke up in the middle of the night, her phone was still in her hand and she smiled at the screen, where the call was still happening and she could see her boyfriend sleeping like the dead. She took a screenshot and texted it to him. 

sweetheart: Sent One (1) Photo Attachment 

sweetheart: ur kinda cute or whatever. i think im kinda in luv with u. 

Then, she fell asleep once more, waking up in the morning to a screenshot he’d sent of her. 

salvaterre: Sent One (1) Photo Attachment

salvaterre: i know im completely in love with you

<3<3<3

“Lorcan!” called their manager’s assistant, Luca, as he held Lorcan’s phone up. “Someone’s calling you!”

Their rehearsal, if it could even be called that, paused. Fenrys was working on his drum tricks, but Lorcan wasn’t sure that him attempting to play while Vaughan and Connall threw extra drumsticks at his set could be considered working.  

Lorcan nodded and put his guitar down, loping across the room. When he was close enough, he saw that it was Elide and reached out, “Thanks, man.” Luca nodded, his curls bouncing. Lorcan picked up the call and ducked out of the rehearsal room, lifting his phone to his ear, “Hey, you.”

“Hi,” she replied. “I just wanted to check in. Luca told me you guys were rehearsing.”

He snorted and walked down the dark hallway, “Rehearsing’s a bit generous, Lee. Ro is hungover and Vaughan and Connall are throwing drumsticks at Fen.”

A bright laugh bubbled from her lips. “Gods, I don’t know why I believed Luca. That boy is too kind.”

“He really is, I don’t know why he wants to work for us bastards.”

Elide hummed, “Yeah, I don’t know either. You guys aren’t that nice.”

Lorcan found a forgotten corner and sat down, his long legs splayed out before him. “We really aren’t.” He looked at his worn Chuck Taylors, the laces frayed. “How’re you?”

“Well… I’m good. I, um, I booked a gig.”

“You did? Lee, that’s amazing,” he said, sitting up straighter. “When’d you book it?”

She hesitated to answer, “...three weeks ago. I… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you but… yeah.”

Lorcan shook his head, “No, no, it’s fine. Are you excited? You haven’t played anywhere in a… long time, love.” When his band had started playing, Elide had played too, appearing in local bars and a few festivals. Then she’d stopped. She still wrote songs and recorded them, but nothing was released. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m feeling good. I’m excited,” Elide told him. “Really, I am.”

“But…” 

There was something she wasn’t saying. 

Her swallow was audible and her voice was quiet when she spoke again, “It’s- it’s next week. And I want you to come, but you can’t. I know that.”

His heart stutterd to a stop. Lorcan opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “I- um, I’m- I’m sorry. That I won’t be there. I wish I could be.”

She laughed, but the sound was forced, “Lor, I don’t want your apology. You’ve already apologised and… it’s just something that is. The facts are that I have a gig, I want you to be there to see, but you’re on tour. And this- it’s your dream, isn’t it?”

You’re my dream, he thought. Lorcan flicked his eyes upwards, lying through his teeth, “Yeah. Yeah, this… this is my dream. I’m touring the world and sharing my music with everyone. I never thought I’d be here.” And you were supposed to be right here with me. 

“Exactly, so, I’ll play more gigs. You’ll see them. It’s not like this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, you know,” Elide joked. “You- you don’t have to worry about this one show, Lor.”

“Yeah…” he said, frowning slightly. Lorcan inhaled, “Listen, I’ve got to go back to rehearsal, but I’ll call you after?”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course. Talk to you later, then.”

“I love you, always.”

“And I love you, forever. Bye, baby.” Elide hung up and Lorcan slowly got to his feet, putting his phone in his back pocket. 

He walked back to the rehearsal room, his brow furrowed in thought. Lorcan tapped the side of his fist against his leg as he went back. 

When he walked back in, Malakai, their manager, glanced at him, “Are you… alright there, son?”

“Yeah,” Lorcan lifted his head. “I just need your help with something.”

<3<3<3

salvaterre: i don’t have time to call you before, but you’re going to do amazing and i love you so so so much. 

salvaterre: you’re going to kill it 

Elide stared down at the message, using it to ground herself. She stole yet another glance at the area before the makeshift stage and her heart hammered a bit harder. Her hands shook, so she breathed in deeply and tried to calm herself. 

Her friends were sitting around the table closest to the stage, all sipping on their drinks and waiting excitedly for her to start. 

The bartender, who was also the owner of the bar, walked up onto the stage and nodded once at Elide for confirmation. She nodded back at Gavriel and he turned to the microphone, “Folks, I want to thank you all for coming out tonight and please give a warm welcome to Elide Lochan!” 

Aelin and Lysandra cheered, while Nesryn simply clapped along with the others, smiling gently. 

Elide shook her head and put her phone in her guitar case before she walked out, sitting on the stool. Gavriel helped her adjust the microphone, “Is that alright?”

She nodded and adjusted her acoustic guitar, “Yes.” 

“Alright, then. Good luck.” Gavriel walked off, leaving her to play. 

“Um,” Elide said into the mic, looking over the crowd, “well, this is my first gig in quite some time and I’m… really happy to be up here, so, I hope you all enjoy it.”

Someone let out a loud ‘whoop’ and she laughed, strumming the strings idly. 

She took a bracing breath and then started to play a song she’d written years ago. It was her safety song, Elide supposed, the one she always played. People always seemed to like it and when she used to play more regularly, it had been a frequent request. 

As Elide played, her mind wandered, thinking about the lyrics she was singing and what they meant. 

Much like her boyfriend, everything she wrote was for him. 

Singing about him, it both saved and ruined her at the same time. 

As the last notes rang out, Elide swallowed, her chest aching. There was a gentle applause throughout the bar and she smiled. “My last song of the night is a brand new tune and I’ve never actually played it in front of anyone else, so please be gentle. It’s called Hourglass and, yeah.” Her cheeks heated in embarrassment over her awkwardness and she ducked her head as Aelin cheered, laughing softly, “Thank you, Aelin.” 

She exhaled once more, “Ok…” Elide strummed gently, one cowboy-booted foot up on the spindle of the stool she sat up. “You know, when you’re gone, I struggle at night, dreams of you fucking me all the time… 

“Though I know you’re tied up and I know your phone’s fucked, I’m craving your calls like a soldier’s wife…” she sang gently, her eyes shutting, “I wanna bring you home myself, bring you home myse-e-elf.”

Elide strummed a little louder, “Come back, move in, mess my place… chest infect me, waste my days… ‘cause I know you love to drive me up the wall, I know you love to drive me up the wa-a-all… 

“I wanna bring you home myself, bring you home myse-e-elf…” 

The crowd was watching in silent rapture. 

“And I’m so-o-o… impatient when you’re not mine. I just want to ca-a-a-tch up all on the lost time,” her voice was sultry like it usually was and she couldn’t help the emotion from bleeding into her words like she normally could, “And I’ll say I’m sorry if I sound sordid ‘cause all I really ever want is you…”

Elide vocalised sweetly as she played to the last verse, a small smile on her lips, “Offer my hand and I’ll take your name, share my shower, kiss my frame, ‘cause I wanna carry all of your children and I wanna call them,” she plucked more gently, “stup-id shit…”

She relaxed, indicating the end of the song, and she was met with loud applause. Elide smiled widely, her hands shaking. 

She heard a familiar hurray and snapped her eyes to the table her friends were sitting at. Between Aelin and Nesryn, Lorcan sat, wearing a proud grin, his dark eyes glittering. Elide gaped, clapping her hand to her mouth. 

Aelin got up and rushed to her, taking her guitar as Elide stood on shaky legs. “Wha- what- baby?” 

He nodded once and Elide laughed, launching herself at him the moment he stood up. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, blinking back tears, “I- I can’t believe you’re here.” 

Lorcan banded his arms around her waist and hugged her tight, one of his hands moving to press against her upper back. “I’ve been gone too long,” he said quietly. “And I didn’t want to miss this.” 

Elide slowly pulled away and tilted her head up, tears lining her eyes, “I’m- gods, I don’t even know what to think. I’m, I’m so happy.” She laughed warmly, her hands squeezing his shoulders. After a quick look around, Elide nodded her head to the side of the bar, where they could have some privacy. 

Lorcan nodded and went with her, taking their seats at an empty table. Elide sat up as high as she could and stretched over the small, round table, one hand tugging his jaw closer to her. She pressed her lips against his, somewhat melting at the first gentle brush of his tongue over the seam of her mouth. Elide parted her plush lips and gasped when his tongue licked over hers. 

They drew back, never ones to display much affection in public. Lorcan’s hand cupped her face and he stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “I missed you, sweetheart.” 

“I missed you too,” Elide said, practically beaming. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”

“Oh, well, why didn’t you tell me you’d written something new? What happened to our deal, hmm?” He hooked his pinky around hers, “We pinky promised, Lee, that means something, you know.” 

One of the promises they’d made to each other was to always share their music with one another first. 

Elide rolled her eyes, “Call it even, then?” 

“But of course, sweetheart.” 

She grinned, unable to control her smile, “I still can’t believe you’re actually here.” Lorcan’s hand was resting on the table and Elide ran her fingertips over his knuckles and the various tattoos he had. “How… do you feel about it? The song?” 

“It’s beautiful,” he replied softly. “You’re extremely talented, Elide, d’you know that?” She blushed and lifted her eyes to his face. Lorcan softened as he took in her face and murmured, “C’mere,” as he pulled her off her stool and fit her between his thighs. He tipped her head back and kissed her once more. She melted into him, her lashes fluttering against his cheeks as she closed her eyes. “Lee,” Lorcan started, pulling back only enough to rest his forehead against hers.

Elide could see that he was going to say something and she quickly pressed her fingers to his full lips, shaking her head. She didn’t say a word, but he understood what she was telling him. There was nothing to say. Lorcan folded his arms around her and tucked her into his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head. His thumb stroked over her hair. 

She smiled and inhaled the cedar and sage scent that clung to him like always. Idly, Elide toyed with his necklace, which was twin to hers. “So… how long do I get you this time?” 

“A week,” he said, almost reluctant. “But, I was kinda thinking that after you…” Lorcan trailed off, nervous that she would say no. 

Elide lifted her head, her hands resting on his thighs, “After? What do you mean after?”

He inhaled and spoke, his words rushed and indiscernible, “Italkedtotheboysandweallagreeditwouldbekindafunifyoucamewithusandyoucould—“

“Baby, slower, please,” Elide laughed. Lorcan blew out a breath and nodded, anxiously shoving his hair back, then settling both of his hands on her hips. 

“If I asked you to come with me for the rest of the tour, what would you say?” 

She gawked at him, almost taking a step back. “Are- are you serious, Lorcan?”

A nod. 

“You really mean this? I would- I would come with you and do… what?” 

He shrugged, “I dunno. You could sing with us. Feature artist.”

Elide laughed again, holding one of her hands to her mouth, “Of course – I would say yes.” 

Relief flooded through his face and he smiled, “Really? You’d come with me?”

“Lorcan,” Elide said, softly shaking her head. She rose on her tip-toes, her lips brushing over his, “I would go with you to the ends of the earth and beyond.” 

With a rakish grin, Lorcan closed the distance between them. 

Always, they promised each other. I will be with you always. 

<3<3<3

songs: Kathleen, Homesick, Hourglass (Catfish and the Bottlemen)

an: ahhh they kinda cute or whatevah 

@mythicaitt​ @eyllweambassador​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @ladyverena​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @thesirenwashere​ @queenofxhearts​ @maastrash​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @cursebreaker29​ @empress-ofbloodshed​ @b00kworm​ @hizqueen4life​ @silversprings98​ @amren-courtofdreams​ @jadeaffliction​ @superspiritfestival​ @sanakapoor​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @spyofthenightcourt​ @thegoddessofyou​ @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx​ @claralady​ @neonhellas​ @darlinminds​ @readingismyonlyhobby​ @autophobiaxx​ @myshadowsingeraz​ @firestarsandseneschals​ @elriel4life​ @always-in-a-daydream​ @jlinez @ladywitchling​ @mariamuses​ @darklesmylove​ @adelzd-bookblr​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @sassyhobbits​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @januarystears​@flamingveritas

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (17/?) - Thomas Shelby

Summary: Father and reader are reunited, Reader faces her past and future at once. (Im getting better kind of?) 

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader (Romantic)

Warning: Unhealthy father and daughter relationship.

A/N: This chapter took oh so long but I’m glad that we get to see this relationship between Father and Daughter in this one. Also i named the father George so sorry if you know someone named George. Comments and feedback is always appreciated and as always have a good night and take care of yourselves. 

Italics = flashback

George (L/N), your father was a man that everyone feared. You knew this ever since you were a little girl. You saw the air he prided himself with, the way people parted like the red sea whenever he walked, the way no one would look him in his eye. You used to worship the ground he walked on. You would cry on to your mother why you couldn’t spend more time with the man, she would give you a look that you didn’t understand then. She was horrified when George did decide to take you for a tour of his ‘office.’ She could do nothing but watch you bounce happily away on your father hand. You still remember the day.

 “You can’t take her, not there.” Your mother cried to him

 “Shes gonna need to learn sooner or later.”

 “Then later!” She yelled.

 He ignores her cries as he drags you along. You had a big smile at finally getting time with your father. You didn’t understand why she was against this.

The walk was brisk, you even stopped for a treat. You ended up jumping from one place to another. Your father talking to people, shaking their hands. You noticed how they looked to him like a leader. So you asked.

 “Im a boss honey,” He answered, “You will be too one day. You’ll help me run all this.”

 “Really?” you said

 “You just gotta be tough. Can you do that?”

 You nodded pulling off your toughest face. The next place he leads you is some old train tracks that aren’t used anymore. A group of men stand around in a circle. All of them waiting for him.

 “You brought a kid to this?” One of them says.

 “You got a problem with that?” George says cocking his gun you didn’t realize he had.

 The man shakes his head no and pints where the rest of them gather, “They got him over there.”

Your father no longer holds your hand as he walks ahead of you. You follow slowly. You can see the man in the middle of the circle. Looking worn down and beaten. Your father stands ahead of him, he plays with gun in the air. He talks words you block out. You just watch the man as is eyes loosely follow your father. He cries uncontrollable begging for his life. You see his body fall before you hear the gun. You don’t cry, you don’t say a word. Your father pats you on the head and says you did good.

 Soon he took you everywhere and anywhere, spending more time with him less with your mother. You became a different person as you became used to the violence. You saw different side of your father more than once but he still treated you like a good. He wanted you prepared for anything and you just wanted to prove that you could be. So learning wasn’t an issue and neither was the perfection you set yourself up for. You became a mini version of him, you didn’t mind unlike your mother who was just horrified. She fought for you to stay in school when he would convince you to leave. She wanted to to date, have a normal job. But you wouldn’t listen to her. You father was your hero at the time you saw nothing wrong with anything that was happening.

 “Your tainting her. Its not good for her to be around this stuff.”

 You listen from atop of the stairs, now only seventeen.

 “Son or daughter, my child is gonna learn the business and learn it right!” He yelled

 “Then ill tell the police, everything I know. Ill take her away or- or”

 “Are you threatening me?”

 “I want my daughter back! You’re running her.”

 “She’s growing up, deal with it.” He turns away from her, gives her the side eye before walking out. You go to sleep, hoping for them to forgive and forget.

 You wake in the middle of night for a glass of water when you found your mother dead. You cry for the first time over a dead body. Holding your mothers hand close to her face, hoping for  a reaction. Your father walks in and pauses. You can see through your lashes that his hands were stained red. You don’t say anything. He brings  out two shovels and hands one to you. George tells you nothing more but to dig in the backyard.

 You don’t. He scolds you for not listening, for not working faster. He digs it himself. He doesn’t look you in the eye as you watch his bury dirt on top of your mother. You share a tea later in the night. You just watch the inside of your cup, the steam rising up. He drinks his greedily, eating cookies as if it’s a regular Sunday morning.

That’s when your relationship changed. You begun to bicker and challenge everything he said or did. You couldn’t understand why he would do that. Or how he even could. You didn’t know what you could do, so you held the emotions in for a long time. Growing distant with your father. He confronts you on your behavior and you no longer hokd your tounge with him.

 “You killed her. Why?”

 “You wouldn’t understand.”

 “I had to bury her, do you know what that was like?”

 “In this business you’ll have to bury a lot more like her.”

 “she had nothing to do with it.” You state.

 He looks at your small figure, your eyes welling up with tears. “Don’t cry.”

 “Why did you do it? Why did you kill my mother?” You press the issue your voice growing louder wanting , needingthe answer. Wanting all this to make sense.

 “Why does it matter? So you can tell the whole city?” He turns on you quick.

 “What if I did, does that scare you?”

 “Watch your mouth girl.”

 “Is that why you killed my mother? Cause she didn’t watch her mouth.” He gets up quickly punching a hole in the wall near your face. You stay still as tears fall from you eyes slowly.

 No longer were the two of you a pair. The father daughter duo was dead. He iced you of the business. Meeting happening without you, transactions with your knowledge. He treated you like a stranger he shared a house with. But every chance you got when you would see him. You questioned him, wanted him to feel bad. No answer at this point would satisfy you, you know that. But you hoped the guilt would eat at his soul for the rest of time. You were there to remind him. And he didn’t like that.

It was the day before you turned eighteen, when you were surprised with a knock on the door. The men claimed to be doctors as they grabbed you by the wrist, throwing you in their car, declaring you insane. You didn’t understand what was happening and that only made them laugh sealing their opinion on what state your mind was as you panicked. The doctors told you nothing but that your father had expressed concerns over your health. And that he was doing this for your own good. Being there made you feel insane but you tried your best to repeal the order to get out. But the doctors were well played off, some of the nurses being Georges goons, no one would let you out unless he said so. Until Tommy Shelby came in, of course you were finally free from that cage.

 So now you stand in front of this man, you had idolized and called father. A man who now is only a murderer, a thief, a low life, your enemy. You clench your jaw as he opens his arms to you. The wrinkles on Georges face crease as he smiles. He’s older in the face and hold a cane in his hand.

 “What? No hug?”

 “Fuck off.”

 “What a lovely choice of words. Im glad to see your okay. I meant to visit…” You glare at him, “but I’ve been busy. Its good to finally find you.”

 “You don’t have to play dumb. How long have you been following me. Ive noticed since a month ago.”

 “Hmm you’re slacking. Its been longer than that. You really think I would let my daughter be out and about, not knowing shes safe.”

 “I had hoped the rumors of your death were true. Guess I hoped too much.”

 “Ah yes your little hit on me. Didn’t go as planned did it.” He glances over at the smoke floating in the town miles from us, “Your work I assume.”

 “Did you do that to Trinity?”

 “It wasn’t anything personal. No need to throw a tantrum.”

 You huff and hold yourself back from stabbing right where he stood. “You had no right-“

 George interrupts you, “After the stunt you pulled. Asking Thomas Shelby to kill me in exchange you tell him a few locations. You know what he did when he found me. He shook my hand. The man helps me fake my death, im off to America. Can you guess where?”

 “New York.”

 “That’s right and its bigger and its booming, honey. And here you are sleeping with a man who lies to you, who is no different than me or the other men ive killed or hurt.”

 “Im not-not” You blush at the accusation your father throws to you. You had forgotten for a second how Tommy Shelby was involved in this. You remember asking him and never getting a clear answer. Especially when you were so unsure with what was going on, you should have pressed more. Not been so easy to trust him. You could have been more prepared for this, left the country sooner.

 “Listen, I’m just here to help you-“

 “By locking me up calling me crazy, or was it when you killed my mother, or had me followed or when you killed my friend.”

 “I understand your mad. But honey we are better as a team than not. Remember me and you fighting the world together.” He uses a funny light hearted voice. One that he would use only to manipulate you when you were younger.

 “What do you want from me?”

 He sighs, “I need a peace treaty. And the family’s got this son.-“

 You scoff, “Are you kidding me?”

 “its what best for our family. And honestly you have no choice in the matter. Ill drag you there myself if I have to.”

 “I’d like to see you try.” You pull put your knife and hold it out in attack position.

 “You’re gonna kill me, your old man,” He uses a mockingly sad voice before erupting into a mad laughter, “You might as well do it now cause you wouldn’t want me as your enemy.”

 “I think it might be too late for that.”  You press the knife against your own throat, pressing hard against your skin. You can feel a trickle of warm blood run down. Now George finally panics.

 “Hey, Hey! Don’t do that!” He yells.

 “Walk out of here and don’t turn back.  Now! “You command.

 Your father follows your orders because you knew it as well as he that in this game you were now an important chess piece. And he wouldn’t have no use with a dead bride.

 “I’ll be seeing you very soon.” He says as he walks further and further away. You watch until his figure is nothing more than a blur. That’s when you finally release the grip on your knife.

You sit down on the ground and quietly sob into your hands. You don’t know the time when you finally stop but its still night and still no train. You hear the sound of a lighter flicking on. You curse under your breath as you get up, ready to die tonight if it meant not being in your fathers plan.

 “You are really testing my patience tonight.” You say turning around. Only it wasn’t your father standing there.

 “Cigarette? You look like you could use one.” The deep voice says. And there you are, Face to face once again with Thomas Shelby.

[seokmingiggles]

transmarinus.

(from beyond the sea)

Prompt: "I like the way your hand fits in mine."

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x female reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst, slow burn, mermaid!au, kinda magical overall(?), probably set in the same universe as Ponyo.

6.03k words

Warnings: some alcohol consumption (everyone is of legal age), swearing, the reader has a phobia of the ocean, allusions to drowning (nothing explicitly mentioned).

Beyond the sea, within the sea—both are places you have no desire to explore. You have lived nearly your whole life with an intense fear of the ocean, yet something about it keeps haunting you.

Alternatively, in which you are afraid of the ocean, yet Seokmin shows you that you no longer have to live in fear.

A/N: I don't have much to say about this little passion project; perhaps that Seokmin is one of my main bias wreckers in Seventeen. In my notes prior to determining a pairing for this fic, I had written: "All three have this kind of magical wonder to them that I want to capture," about my possible choices of a protagonist (you’ll find out the other two contenders later on). I hope I have captured this feeling. Furthermore, there are some loose ends for a possible part two if I feel the desire to continue this au. Enjoy!

The lyrics (bolded) are from Somewhere Beyond the Sea by Bobby Darin.

•• Somewhere beyond the sea,

You've never liked the ocean: the seemingly endless dark depths and rushing currents that could pull you below. No, rephrasing your thoughts—you are afraid of the ocean. Sure, it can be pretty to look at on a calm and sunny summer day, and sure, the sea breeze admittedly feels pleasant brushing through your hair and clothes on occasion, but you refuse to give in to its temptation, to even go near it if you can help it.

Somewhere waiting for me,

It can be lonely sometimes, being the only one of your classmates growing up who refused to go swimming on field trips to the beach nearing the end of the semester. You often found yourself alone and listening to the fun they would be having in the shallow tides: a shimmering, azure blue. You learned to bring things to accompany you when your friends would prefer to enjoy their time swimming. A book and a beach towel resting on the silky sands was often your set-up. Not much has changed since then.

My lover stands on golden sands,

You've become better over the years at handling your fear. When before, you used to hesitate to even step foot onto the sand, now you have become comfortable with the squishing feeling between your toes. However, boats are another story. Your mom once took you on a cruise when you were a child, and honestly, you enjoyed it. Well, for the most part, only until the last night of the tour. Frankly, that's the trip that made you develop your fear of the ocean in the first place. Since then, you've refused to step foot on any watercraft. It's a bit ironic, really. You've grown up on a decently-sized island apart from the mainland—the only way to get across is by a ferry. You're not sure if you'll ever be able to regain your trust with the water.

And watches the ships that go sailin'.

•

"I dare you to go skinny-dipping."

"Oh, hell no. That's a hard pass."

"Really, Gyu? You think she'd do that?"

"You're gross, dude."

"What? Do you want me to go instead?"

"Not really. None of us need to see that."

Being friends with Mingyu, Jungkook, and Hansol—your best friend—is a recipe for no dull moments. You four have a tradition; you'd all take a trip to the Jeon family cabin near the island's peninsula as a way to start your summers. You've all been going for the past few years since your final year of high school, continuing the tradition into your college years.

It's where you find yourselves now, splayed out in drunken messes (some more than others) on the semi-private beach. To your right, there's a small fire pit in the center of your beach chairs. A cold drink is in your left hand to counter the heat in your cheeks from the flames.

"Sorry, (Y/N), I'm an idiot," Mingyu admits after finally realizing what he'd dared you to do. "You don't have to go into the water."

"I wasn't planning on it, but thanks," you reply and take a sip of your drink.

The four of you stare at the fire beginning to diminish. Orange embers glow in the ashes.

Hansol swirls the remains of his beer bottle around. "Why do I suddenly want to go swimming now?"

"Dude, no. It's nearly midnight, and you're drunk," Mingyu retorts, "None of that is a good combination."

The younger boy is about to quip back, but suddenly, a loud splash interrupts his thoughts, heard near the row of rocks separating this property from the next.

The tallest boy stands to try to see the source of the noise, but it's much too dark. "Okay, you're definitely not going swimming now. I don't want to be responsible for your death."

The splashing continues. It isn't as loud as the first time, but it's more constant as if something is struggling by the rocks.

"I'll go check it out," Jungkook puts his bottle down and slips on his sandals, already heading closer to the water.

"Not by yourself, you're not," Hansol is quick to jump to his feet and follow the elder.

You remain seated, and luckily, Mingyu remains at your side too.

•

Somewhere beyond the sea,

Seokmin adores the ocean. Well, he sort of has to since it's been his home for nearly nine decades. He loved playing in the currents with his brothers when he was younger—and now—appreciating how the colour of the water changes the closer he gets to the surface. The ocean makes him feel free. It's like he can go anywhere or see anything. Seokmin can't say he's ever felt love before first-handed, it's not a feeling he can define, but he considers the ocean to be the closest thing that he loves.

She's there watching for me,

He has breached the surface before. It isn't a forbidden action to his people, but it is to be taken carefully; however, there are different rules when you're one of the sons of the merking. There are countless cautionary tales of merfolk who have been spotted by sailors, more on what happens when they get too close to shore. Merpeople are supposed to live for centuries as they slowly age, but most of those tales abruptly cut their lives short. Seokmin feels like the only one who isn't afraid of those stories and wants to see for himself what would happen if he met a land-dweller. He's optimistic that they're not as cruel as the fables portray them to be.

If I could fly like birds on high,

Seokmin is a graceful swimmer. With decades of practice, it's a given talent. He used to struggle when maneuvering through the waves, especially when compared to his two brothers. Yet, with great perseverance and will, Seokmin trained himself to become better. Much stronger and significantly more elegant—he can now soar with ease through the water, quite speedily, too. In his younger days—what would be equivalent to teenagehood in humans—Seokmin would travel for days across the wide ocean, simply feeding his desire to explore.

Then straight to her arms—

Being a part of the royal family means Seokmin is eligible for arranged marriages. Soonyoung, his elder brother coming up on a century old, is already engaged to a beautiful mermaid, Tzuyu; the boy suspects he's next as the second-eldest in their family. Seokmin knows it's to benefit his kingdom, but he also knows that the chance of being in line for the throne is incredibly slim as the second brother. All he wants is to find someone he loves as much as he loves the ocean.

I'd go sailing.

•

"No way," Hansol whispers, breaking the silence between him and Jungkook as they've reached the rocky barrier.

Sure enough, the splashing sound is caused by distress. A boy, looking to be around Hansol's age, is stuck between a few large rocks that have fallen from the wall. It's shallow enough that his torso remains above the surface, but the position looks painful, nonetheless, with one of his arms twisted beneath the collapsed rocks.

"Here," Hansol approaches the stranger slowly, "we can help you."

The boy has a fearful look in his eyes as the human approaches. It's only when Hansol has rolled the legs of his joggers up and is wading into the shallows that he notices the lack of legs the panicking boy has, or rather, the glimmering tail he has instead.

He shrugs off the unusual sight and tries to move the rock, but it's much too large for Hansol to budge by himself, staggering slightly on the uneven ground. He calls Jungkook over to aid him, and the two of them together are able to lift the stone out of the way, freeing the trapped boy.

The stranger slips away and back into the depths before anyone could say anything.

"You saw him too, right?" Hansol asks his friend, pointing out to the vast sea and trying to find some evidence of what was next to him moments ago.

"Yeah," Jungkook is nearly speechless, drying his hands on his shirt.

"He didn't even say thank you."

•

"I fucked up. I fucked up big time!" The youngest brother rants to his siblings upon arriving back to his home safely.

"Alright, Chan, it's time to calm down now-"

"No, Soon, you don't understand! This time was different." Chan continues to ramble, "I would have really been in danger if I was stuck there until morning. The rising sun would suffocate me, no doubt. My precious sixty-one years would be down the drain in an instant!"

“So dramatic,” the eldest chirps. "It's a good thing that those humans found you when they did."

Soonyoung has heard enough of Chan's stories about always venturing off to the shore. He's somewhat jealous. Lately, the eldest has had to spend more time planning for his wedding and preparing to become the next-in-line for the throne. He wishes he could join his brother on an adventure like they used to a couple of decades back.

"Please, Seok, you'll listen to me then, won't you? You're a hopeless romantic."

Seokmin isn't sure if he should be offended by his brother's comment.

"And what if I am?" he asks with his hands fidgeting in his lap. "What does that have to do with this?"

"You're the one who enjoyed exploring the most years ago. I know you've done your share of people-watching before." Chan ponders, then adds more quietly, "Well, and also, the boy who first approached me was kind of cute."

"Oho, does our Channie have a little crush on a human?"

"Great, now you're listening, hyung."

Seokmin sits back and listens to his brothers playfully bantering. He admires them both fondly, sometimes wishing he could be as responsible as Soonyoung, or as free-spirited as Chan. Instead, Seokmin becomes more reserved around his siblings, despite not considering himself to be shy. But the three are well-balanced when they're together.

Noisy, but well-balanced.

"Why do I feel like I need to see him again?" Chan asks Seokmin as they're lying in their shared bedroom. Their older brother has a room to himself, being the next-in-line.

"Maybe you really do like him," Seokmin suggests, not quite knowing what to say. He's never before been enamoured by a particular human, nor any merfolk for that matter. "You're making me curious now. It's been a while since I've seen the surface," he sighs, struggling to remember what dry sand looks like.

"Then you should come with me!" Chan doesn't hesitate to suggest, "I can't guarantee he'll still be there, but it's worth a shot. Right?"

Seokmin hums in thought. As much as he would like to comply with his brother's request, part of him knows how they're not supposed to venture to the surface so freely. Especially with it being so close to Soonyoung's wedding, nothing detrimental should happen to them before the upcoming celebration.

"Besides, I should probably return... this... whatever this is."

Seokmin eyes the strange-looking object with a puzzled expression.

"You know, Chan, it's not very nice to steal things that aren't yours."

•

"Are you sure you checked your suitcase?" you ponder, trying to rack your brain of other locations the missing sandal could have gone. "What about by the hose in the back? Maybe you left it there after rinsing the sand off them."

"No, I've gone through my bags twice already, and I don't think I bothered with the hose last night," Hansol replies. "I have a feeling they're on the beach somewhere. Although, I can't remember if I walked up the path in bare feet or not."

"You were quite drunk, Han."

"Oh, hush. We're on vacation, aren't we?" the boy lifted his eyebrows at the question. "I'm allowed to get drunk. Anyways, will you come with me down to the beach? It's not like my shoe could have walked away on its own," he snickers at his joke, "it's bound to show up somewhere."

You try to ignore the rising uneasiness in your chest. "Do you really need me to go with you?"

"Two sets of eyes are better than one, (Y/N). And I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you. You don't even have to step foot into the water or even go close to it, for that matter."

You sigh and reluctantly agree, slipping on your own pair of sandals for the short walk down to the beach. You know Hansol would have asked one of the other boys to venture with him near the water, but Jungkook and Mingyu had left to get more groceries (and drinks) for tonight, so you were the only option.

"Where did you find the other shoe?" you ask as you scan the area around the fire pit. "Isn't it strange that you only lost one?"

"It was outside the front door. But as you said, (Y/N), I was quite drunk last night."

You giggle at your friend's comment, adding, "Maybe a bird flew off with it this morning," and continue to scan the sand.

"Wait, now that I think of it, I don't think I had that other shoe after we went to the rocks," Hansol considers and begins to walk to the familiar barrier.

The short wall looks smaller in the daylight, but you know the rocks are unstable despite their compact appearance.

You cautiously follow the boy as he ventures closer to the tide.

"You and Kook never did mention what you saw last night over here," you state, trying to create conversation to distract you from being so close to the water.

"Didn't we?" Hansol tries to recall, "I guess we didn't. Maybe because we knew that you and Gyu wouldn't believe us."

"Believe what?"

"Believe-"

You and Hansol turn the corner at the first large rock.

"-that."

Your stomach drops at the sight. There are two boys in the shallows; one is casually sitting and looking around, while the other is floating on the surface.

His rosy, fish-like tail is hard to miss.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Chan exclaims upon seeing the familiar figure, now sitting upright like his brother. "I believe this is yours."

The mermaid holds up Hansol's lost slipper while sporting a beaming smile on his face.

You're in shock. You've read about mythical creatures when you were a child, as most kids do at that age, but never have you thought that their existence is real. Let alone that you would ever come face-to-face with one.

"Thank you," Hansol mutters and carefully approaches the younger male.

Chan introduces himself along with his brother, and Hansol does the same with himself and you.

But you're beginning to panic. The feeling is bubbling up in your throat, and you don't want to break down. So instead, you excuse yourself and run back up the pathway to the cabin.

You miss the way the older merman's eyes remain on your figure as you retreat away.

•

It's far beyond a star,

Seokmin feels strange. It's not the first time he's seen a human-being that close, let alone speak with one, but there was something odd about your behaviour; the unusual feeling seems to stem from seeing you.

"Did you see the way she looked at us?" the second-eldest speaks, recalling your tense expression.

It's near beyond the moon,

"Why? Do you think she's pretty? That would be convenient because I still think Hansol is pretty. I thought he was charming in the moonlight, but now, I can say he's even prettier in the sunshine," Chan hums, repeating the boy's name for the nth time upon their return home. "I never knew humans could be so lovely."

I know beyond a doubt,

"No," Seokmin begins, "I mean, yes, she was pretty too, but she looked afraid of us. Of... me. Didn't she?" He pauses. "I've never had someone be afraid of me before."

Chan glances at his brother's concerned expression. "She was probably just surprised, Seok. Maybe she hasn't seen a merperson in-person before."

"Maybe," Seokmin mumbles, not entirely convinced.

The merman's peculiar feelings about you only fester as the days pass by. When Chan would return to that same beach almost daily in the hopes of seeing Hansol again, Seokmin would remain at his home.

He is strangely impacted by you. Not that you even said a word to Seokmin that day, but the way you reacted threw him off.

He longs to know why you ran away.

My heart will lead me there soon.

•

Not that you needed it, but you now have yet another reason to avoid the ocean.

Hansol ends up journeying down to the beach every time he sees the familiar crimson tail splashing in the shallows from the large cabin window facing the ocean. The other two boys have begun teasing their younger friend about his new fishy pal.

You have tried to express your concern about Chan to Hansol, explaining that he may be dangerous, but your friend has only dismissed your worries and encouraged you that Chan isn't a threat.

"He's a fun guy to talk to. You're welcome to join me down on the beach sometime, (Y/N)," Hansol says as he slips his notorious pair of sandals on. "Actually, Chan has been asking about you lately. If you're doing alright."

You look up from your bowl of cereal with a confused expression. "I don't think I even spoke a word to Chan. Why would he be asking about me?"

Hansol shrugs. "Apparently, one of his brothers has been worried about you. I'm assuming that's why he keeps asking, but that's all I know."

You remain puzzled in your seat at the kitchen table as Hansol closes the front door behind him, wandering down the familiar rocky path towards the water.

"Is (Y/N) coming?" Chan's posture perks up at the sight of the boy approaching.

He shrugs his head, "I don't think so. I'm sure you know by now how apprehensive she can be. Stubborn, too." Hansol takes a seat in the sand. His shoes are off quickly once again as he dips his legs into the water, the gentle waves lapping up to his knees.

Seokmin frowns. He's been accompanying Chan on his near-daily visits in the hopes of seeing you again. With all of the stories Hansol has been telling about the human world and his friends, Seokmin has convinced himself that he wants to properly meet you.

Just to make sure she's doing alright, he tells himself. There's no other reason.

Seokmin takes pride in helping people. As the middle child, he'd often take it upon himself to sort out his brothers' issues, especially on the rare occasion he found them arguing. A mood maker, his mother told him in his youth when she'd noticed the way he always seemed to strive to help others feel better. So when Hansol briefly mentioned your fear of the sea, there's nothing that the boy decides he wants more than to help you see that the ocean isn't something to fear.

However, it is a difficult task to accomplish when you wouldn't even venture down to the beach anymore.

There's part of Seokmin that feels guilty about your recent reluctance. From what Hansol has said, it seems like you were making gradual progress in becoming comfortable near the water. In fact, you hadn't always been afraid of the ocean. Yet, it all seemed to backfire the moment your eyes landed on him and Chan.

It makes Seokmin feel even more responsible for your fear.

•

It's raining today, a stark contrast to the previous perfect blue-sky, sunny weather that you've all been experiencing for the past week on your vacation.

You're the first one up this morning, making your way quietly down the stairs and into the kitchen to make some coffee.

You examine the horizon as the aromatic drink brews. The rain is only spitting down now, but you have a feeling it will pick up later with larger clouds slowly rolling in. It looks like the sun is trying to peek out from behind, although unsuccessful in its attempt.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee when enough fills the pot, hearing the sizzle onto the element when you impatiently remove the container as it continues to drip.

Making your way to the dining table nearby, you take a seat in front of the large window, holding your mug between your hands.

The coffee is too hot to drink right now.

Your mind begins to wander as you wait.

•

(Y/N), age seven.

You wake to a faint ringing sound.

"Mom?"

No response.

You shuffle to the edge of the bed to turn on the lamp. As your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, you're met only with an empty room.

"Mom?" you say louder, just to once again, unsurprisingly, be met with nothing.

Maybe she's still at the party on the deck, you think to yourself. That would explain the sound. Maybe it's from the music.

You slip out from beneath the duvet and make your way to the cabin door.

You take a deep breath, not knowing why you're so nervous, and open the door.

There's no music. It's an alarm.

You suddenly feel the ship lurch to the side, throwing you off balance and into the side of the doorway.

"Mom!" you cry out, for someone, anyone.

You don't want to be alone.

Tears are prickling beneath your eyes, and immediately, panic rises to your throat.

"Are you (Y/N)?"

A young male rushes down the hallway in your direction.

You nod your head in response, not finding your words.

"Your mom said you'd be down here, come on. She's already up in the rendezvous spot." His nametag says Seungcheol.

You accept his outstretched hand and follow him as he hurries down the corridor back the way he came.

The boat sways again, but Seungcheol stands his ground, keeping you steady on your feet too.

"What's happening?" your voice crackles.

Seungcheol continues to guide you through the interior of the ship. "There was an unexpected storm suddenly. Captain didn't even see it on our radars, it came out of nowhere. We're taking precautions and gathering everyone in the lounge while he works on getting us to shore."

The two of you make it above the cabins where the wind and rain are pelting down stronger than you've ever seen before. You're having a hard time keeping your balance on the rocking boat, your hand slowly slipping out of Seungcheol's grasp.

A giant wave hits the side of the ship, effectively removing your small hand from Seuncheol's as you're thrown to the side.

You scream as the wave seems to drag you away and pulls you off the edge of the ship.

You hear someone else yell; maybe it's your mother, maybe it's Seungcheol, but before you know it, you are doused in the cold ocean.

The instant your body falls into the depths, you're frozen, petrified, unable to move. You try to struggle your way to the surface, but your clothes weigh you down, only making you sink further below.

Your lungs burn. Trapped in the darkness, you can barely see the moonlight above anymore.

You succumb to your watery grave, eyes closed and arms wrapped around your small figure in a final effort to gain warmth.

Suddenly, you are hit by a feeling of serenity like your mother is cradling you once again. You lean into the tender touch and begin to drift away into unconsciousness.

She belongs to the sea.

You seem to hallucinate a raspy voice hiss out the strange remark.

And then you're gone.

•

Each time you see the familiar grey, gloomy clouds in the atmosphere brings you back to that one fateful day from your childhood.

You know something else happened to you after you fell into the water, but you can't for the life of you recall what.

You know you somehow made it back to the shore safely in one piece. Could it have been that kind staff member who collected you from your room? Or perhaps your mother who dove in after seeing you fall overboard?

You've kept that day to yourself; the only one who knows the full story is Hansol. Not even Jungkook nor Mingyu are aware of all the details; they only know the gist of the origins of your fear of the ocean.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

Hansol's voice brings you back to reality. He's come from the kitchen and is currently standing next to you. Now brought back to your senses, you feel the slight sting from the hot cup of coffee resting between your palms.

"Nothing," you mutter out, removing your hands from the ceramic. You keep your gaze out the window at the hazy horizon; the tide seems to be rising with the weather getting progressively worse. "Are you seeing Chan today?"

"No," he answers, taking a sip from his cup. "Not that I know of, at least. I doubt he'll come if it's raining like this."

The wind looks like it's beginning to pick up. You can hear it howling on the other side of the windows.

"Right, of course."

The boy takes a seat across from you. "Are you sure you're doing okay?" he pushes, "You know you don't have to stay here for the full two weeks with us, right?"

"I know," you reply, "I've just been feeling more anxious recently, but I'm not entirely sure why." You take a sip of your coffee, burning the tip of your tongue slightly. "But I'll be okay."

Hansol's concern for you doesn't waver despite your words or the smile you’re presenting.

"Some storm, huh?" Mingyu's voice is heard from the staircase as he treks down to the main floor. His hair is still damp from his shower.

Hansol makes a noise of acknowledgement and takes another sip of his coffee.

Mingyu prepares a cup of coffee for himself. "Do you think the water will rise all the way up to the deck?"

You involuntary freeze at the thought.

"No, it shouldn't," Hansol says confidently.

And it doesn't, but it does come close. As the rain continues to pour, the entirety of the rocky path becomes submerged beneath the saltwater.

The sound of the storm keeps you awake as you lie in bed that night, picking at a loose thread on the duvet cover. You think you can feel the cabin sway with the heavy wind, but you blame it on your imagination.

She belongs to the sea.

You blame your imagination for the husky voice you hear too.

The sea.

The shutter on your bedroom window flies open; it's certainly not your imagination this time. You immediately stand up and make your way to the adjacent wall to close it, only to see just how high the tide has risen since you've retreated to bed.

Now you must be dreaming.

The sea level appears to be just below your window. Being on the upper floor of the cabin, that's more than concerning.

"(Y/N)?"

You back away from the window at the sound of your name spoken from the other side of it.

A vaguely familiar mop of damp brown hair appears outside your windowsill.

"Seokmin?" You squint your eyes at the face you see in the moonlight. Panic laces your voice, "What the hell is happening?"

Yeah, you really must be dreaming.

The merman reaches his arm through the threshold of your window with his hand open for you to take.

"Do you trust me?"

Every part of you screams no. No! You've lived your whole life in fear of the ocean and what resides within it. Taking this creature's hand would contradict your entirety.

"Please," he adds.

You feel yourself being drawn towards him, one foot after another taking you closer until your hand brushes against his. His fingertips are pruned, a sensation slightly rough against your smooth ones.

When he closes his hand around yours, you hear the rain abruptly stop.

Everything becomes silent, like the drops of water have stopped with time.

"It's okay," Seokmin whispers, warmly smiling at you.

Before you know it, his lips connect with your forehead.

And you suddenly remember that night you fell into the abyss.

•

The instant your body falls into the depths, you're frozen, petrified, unable to move. You try to struggle your way to the surface, but your clothes weigh you down, only making you sink further below.

Your lungs burn. Trapped in the darkness, you can barely see the moonlight above anymore.

You succumb to your watery grave, eyes closed and arms wrapped around your small figure in a final effort to gain warmth.

Suddenly, you are hit by a feeling of serenity like your mother is cradling you once again. You lean into the tender touch and begin to drift away into unconsciousness.

She belongs to the sea.

You seem to hallucinate a raspy voice hiss out the strange remark.

And then you're gone.

No, you think you're gone, but the burning sensation in your lungs is alleviated.

You open your eyes once more to find your small body enveloped by another being. It has a tail: a long, dark violet tail extending beneath you. Your fear hasn't left you completely, but the way you're cradled so carefully eases you.

"It's okay," a gentle voice whispers, causing you to look up to meet a pair of brown eyes and a warm smile. "You're safe."

"What's happening?" you hear your voice ask for the second time that day, unsure of how you're able to speak beneath the water.

"Your father wants you home," is the boy's response, "but I've tried to tell him it's not your time yet."

"My... father?"

You can't picture a face to the name you speak. Each time you've asked your mother about him, she's only said how he was a wonderful man. Was.

"Yes, (Y/N). Sorry about the storm. He gets emotional when thinking of you." One of the merman's hands supports the back of your head to his chest as he dashes through the water. "It's because he misses you."

"Are we going to see him now?"

"No, not yet. One day I'll find you again, and we will see him. Together."

Before you know it, your heads break through to the surface where the weather is much clearer than before. Your rescuer moves slowly towards the beach near the dock, continuing his hold on you until your feet can touch the ground.

You cough up some of the water that infiltrated your lungs before asking, "May I know your name?"

The merman smiles once more, the apples of his wet cheeks reflecting the moonlight. "You will, one day, little jellyfish."

•

Your eyes open only to find you still stood by your window with a familiar set of arms around you.

You take note of his purple tail extending below.

"You," you whisper, taking a step back from the windowsill to get a proper look at the boy residing on the other side, "We've met before."

Seokmin chuckles at your realization, "Yes, many years ago."

"You saved me."

"Kind of," he ponders. "You wouldn't have drowned; your father wouldn't have let that happen. I only made sure you wouldn't sink to the bottom of the ocean."

"Right, my father." The title still sounds alien from your mouth. You gesture to the flooded outside, "Did he do this too?"

Seokmin sheepishly scratches the nape of his neck, "Word may have gotten around that you were visiting the oceanside. You know how excitable Chan can get."

You smile at the idea of the youngest royal brother bragging about seeing you. "If my father's a merman, then why am I human?"

"Who said your father's a merperson?" Seokmin counters, "He's less of a merman and more of a sorcerer who resides within the waves."

"No shit."

The boy giggles at your remark.

"But if I technically come from the sea, then why have I been so afraid of it?"

"Are you still afraid of it now, jellyfish?"

You open your mouth, about to say your habitual response, but only to find yourself lacking one life-long phobia.

"No," you furrow your eyebrows.

"It was a spell I placed on you, back when you were a child," Seokmin fiddles with your hand; his is now dry. "It was to prevent you from returning when you weren't ready."

"Am I ready now?"

"My goodness, so many questions."

But Seokmin takes the time to answer them all for you.

You pull up a chair to the window as he remains in the raised tide.

That night, you learn that you're less human than you originally thought. You're not a merperson like Seokmin and his brothers are, but you do similarly come from the ocean.

Your father had unexpectedly met your mother one summer's day, the two falling in love faster than either party had expected. You weren't necessarily planned, but the two were ecstatic, nevertheless. Your father had to return back to the depths—his home—leaving your mother alone for the rest of her pregnancy. Yet, after she had you, she was significantly less lonely. She seemed to have the whole ocean supporting her, despite her lover unable to return to the surface.

When you were an infant, you were drawn to the water. Perhaps you could hear your father calling out to you for you to return home at sea with him, where he thought you belonged more-so than on land.

Seokmin had placed the spell on you to give you the opportunity for a normal youth on the surface. He recalled the way he so strongly loved being free of stress and confinement before his royal responsibilities became more prevalent and only wished the same for you.

Practicing magic under your father's teaching made Seokmin create a spell strong enough to last for over a decade.

He refrained from telling your father what he'd done that night when he found you. He knew how powerful the man was; a tsunami or hurricane could have easily been a product of his emotions.

Although now, the spell has worn off. Once more, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the water and arguably even-more-so to the boy with his hands encased in yours.

"Will I get to meet him one day?" your eyes examine the way Seokmin's thumb grazes across your knuckles, tracing every crest and trough on your skin.

"Yes," he says, "though only when the tides lower again. I don't want him flooding the entire island out of happiness."

You hum out an "Okay" and catch the beginnings of the rising sun in the distance, illuminating Seokmin's already-glowing silhouette.

•

We'll meet beyond the shore,

"(Y/N), could I try something?"

Seokmin's ears are tinted a pretty pink as he examines your form sitting in the shallow water.

You shift your attention from feeling the silky sand beneath the waves lightly lapping against your ankles and to the merman sitting next to you. His hair is slowly beginning to dry from being in the summer sunshine.

We'll kiss just as before,

Seokmin takes your hand tenderly and brings it to his lips. It's a gentle touch, but the act sends a flurry of butterflies straight into your chest. The boy smiles brightly, his eyes slightly crinkling at the corners, and laces his fingers between yours.

Happy we'll be beyond the sea,

"I like the way your hand fits in mine, jellyfish."

Your eyes meet Seokmin's, who are trained on the pair of your intertwined hands.

"I like it too," you admit, smiling as his gaze lifts and meets yours.

He slowly leans in.

And never again I'll go sailing. ••

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 2: Take My Hand And Drag Me Headfirst

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

Thank you @burnsoslow​ for the beta and putting some of your magical finishing touches where needed.

Chapter 3 will be written by @burnsoslow​ ,  I’m so excited for that!!

___________________________

Propped against the railing of the rear deck of a small tugboat in the middle of the Hudson River, the warmth of Liam’s arms wrapped around her from behind, Riley thought back to the words Daniel spoke to her earlier about fairytales and happy endings. Maybe it was the hope in his voice she needed to hear during a vulnerable moment to lift her spirits, but she was really starting to believe them herself.

The newly fired, down-on-her-luck Riley Brooks had left the Tapped Out Bar with a mysterious man that she plowed over during an escape from rats while taking out the garbage. A little while later, she accidentally attacked him again in the alleyway of her former employment with her sad little stick. They struck up a conversation, and through some awkward stalling on his part, he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out for a drink. 

Riley wasn’t someone who normally took off with random guys she just met to flit about the city, but there was just something about Liam that was different -- that was special. 

Call it intuition. An inclination. Instinct or inkling. Whatever it was, was a possibility. Of what? That remained to be seen. 

After talking to his friends about his plans, and at her behest, the pair headed west on foot until they reached a busy late-night cafe that overlooked the choppy waters of the New York harbor. Sitting on the open deck, moonlight cascading off the ripples of the sea, a light jazz tune playing through the outdoor speakers, they talked for over an hour about everything and nothing, while sipping coffee and plucking at a large cinnamon roll they shared. It was the most Riley had spoken in a long time. When you live with and are friends with the more outgoing Alyssa, you learn to appreciate the fine art of listening. She spoke about her dads, her friends, places she traveled to and what not. All very light, casual conversation. Liam mentioned he had family, his country of origin, how much he was enjoying New York, but never revealed too much.

Not wanting to sound too whiny and pathetic, she stuck with the positive things in her life; she surprised even herself that there were a lot more than she realized. But he captivated her in a real way that made it so easy. Liam laughed with her and made her feel interesting and personable; maybe even desired.

And as the night carried on and the patrons of the cafe dwindled down, a Miles Davis tune began to play: “Blue and Green.” A bright smile tugged on the corner of Liam’s lips as he pushed his chair back and rose from the table to offer his hand. “My lady.”

Riley looked around the deck to see if anyone else was dancing -- they weren’t -- but how could she say no? 

She didn’t want to say no.

Beside their little round table and under a string of hanging white pearly lights and garland, they slowly swayed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was chemistry in motion with every soft blare of the trumpet, rhythmic taps on the snare drum, and light pitter pats on a piano played in G major. The tempo was leisurely and elegant, creating the perfect ambience for the feelings that were stirring within them.

With her head resting snugly against his firm chest, the thrumming of his steadily-beating heart reverberating in her ear, Liam revealed, “I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia, Riley.”

Never breaking their stride, Liam lifted one of her tiny arms in the air and twirled her around gracefully. Riley smiled up at him as they returned to formation; their hands intertwined between them. “And I’m one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

Liam laughed as they continued their gentle side-to-side movements. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not lying to you. Perhaps I should have been a little more upfront with you from the beginning, but I’m normally not allowed to go out without the Royal Guard.” He paused for a moment to lower her into a deep dip, sensually inhaling the perfumed scent around her decolletage, before pulling her back into his arms. “And I was only allowed out on the condition that I kept my identity a secret. But, just for one day … I wanted to be free.”

It was one of the most romantic nights Riley had ever experienced in her life, but as the music continued to play, their steps gliding in sync, she nuzzled her cheek against his firm body and responded, “You’re so full of shit.”

Liam pulled away, amused by her choice of words and disbelief. “After I told you all of that, you still think I’m lying?”

Riley shrugged. “I dunno.” She casually pulled out her chair under his watchful eye and sat down, crossing her legs. Lifting a coffee mug to her lips, she winced at its cold temperature, and the fact that she hated coffee. “So, I’m not really into the whole role-playing thing, but if you’re gonna be this ... Prince of Condomania, how about if I play the sultry villainess spy who comes to steal the treasures from your castle and you catch me in the act?” She batted her eyelashes and splayed her hands across her chest. “I will neva surrenda, Prince Liam. If you wont me, you’ll haf to take me right heya.” Riley animatedly flung her arms out and arched back over her chair.

Liam knit his brow. “What the hell kind of accent is that?”

Riley sat up and smiled proudly. “It’s Cajun. I have this friend and I really like how he talks; it’s so sexy. Do you think it sounded convincing at all? Maybe a little too nasally? You want me to try to do your accent next?”

With a grin, Liam shook his head and took the seat across from her. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She sighed. “That’s what they tell me.”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Riley watched curiously as Liam pulled out his phone and began typing something on it. He held it out to her. “I want you to look at this, Cajun Villainess Spy. Tell me what you think?”

“Oh God, you’re gonna show me a dick pic, aren’t you?” Riley slammed her eyes shut as she reluctantly reached for his cell, but sort of peeked out one eye.  

“Eh, no. That’s never really been my style.” He gestured insistently for her to look at the screen as he sat back and crossed his arms. “I think you’ll find everything you want to know about me right there.”

It only took her a second to study the images and gloss over the text he pulled up, but a satisfied smirk formed on Liam’s charmed features while watching her eyes grow larger. Riley jumped up from her chair, the momentum causing it to tip over. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a real prince?” 

Liam guffawed, “I did!”

“No, you didn’t! You had I’m joking written all over your face. How was I supposed to know your serious face and your joke face look the same?” She tossed the phone back to him like it was molten iron scorching her palm. “I’d rather have the dick pic.” 

After picking up her tipped-over chair and getting settled again, she took a moment to just process the identity of the man she had spent the last couple of hours talking and dancing with. Her real-life Prince Charming. This incredibly sweet, hot guy sipping coffee in front of her was part of a royal family, and she was an unemployed everything. What on earth possessed him to want to spend time with the likes of her?  

She looked up from her fidgeting fingers that were picking at the green fabric covering her thighs and smiled softly at him. “I’m sorry I overreacted. It’s just …”

“A lot to learn about someone? No, no, I get it. I probably would have had the same reaction if I were you.”

“So ... what happens now?”

What happened next was what led them to the boat they were on for an impromptu midnight ride to see the Statue of Liberty.

Liam laid out the details of his situation: He was a prince visiting New York City with his friends who were throwing him a last-minute bachelor party. Riley listened attentively while he explained his upcoming social season: not knowing yet who he was going to marry, but that duty required him to take a wife by the end of the year. He had hoped while he was in the city to visit its most famous statue; however, his friends hadn’t planned for it. Riley heard the disappointment in his voice and it tugged at her heart.

It was definitely too late to catch one of the many tours that traveled to Ellis Island during the day, but Riley was determined to do what she could to make it happen for him. Part of her was motivated by the fact that she liked him a lot and enjoyed his company; he was charming and refined, different from anyone she’d ever met. The longer she got to spend with Liam and got to know him, the better. But there was also this other part that felt sorry for him. Riley could see the struggle in his eyes and the weight on his shoulders between what he wanted to do, and what his position forced his hand to do. In her mind it was clear that Liam was the kind of guy who got everything -- except what he wanted.

In some ways, she knew the feeling.

To Liam’s surprise, Riley assured him she would find a way for him to see that statue. So, while he paid the tab, her mind raced with how the hell she was going to pull this off. And just before the actual possibility of having to hijack a vessel began to fully take shape in her mind, she pulled out her phone in one last-ditch effort to not break the law. Riley knew no one who owned a boat, but there was one person in her life that seemingly had a connection to everyone in the damn city.

Riley bit at her fingernails as the phone rang, glancing over her shoulder once to watch Liam paying the cashier. “Come on, come on. Pick up. Pick up.”

“Heyyyy!”

“Alyssa,” Riley whispered in an urgent tone into the phone, unclear whether her friend would even hear her over the party music and raucous chatter that was blaring in the background. “I need your help with something.”

“Riiiiley!” she slurred. “My bestie. My sister from another parents. I love you soooo much. More than everyone in the whole wide ... something. Hey, guys! Riley’s on the phone; say hi to her!” 

“Wait, Lyss! No.”

A loud chorus of drunken greetings could be heard through the receiver as Alyssa held it up in the air.

“Alyssa!” Riley repeated in frustration while listening to her best friend start another conversation with a partygoer about the perfect symmetrical shape of the cheese cube she just ate. Apparently, it looked like a “tiny little house, for teeny, tiny little cheese people.”

Riley smacked her forehead. “Alyssa!” 

Liam returned from paying the bill, his hands stuffed in his pockets and bouncing on his heels. He raised his eyebrows at Riley as if asking eagerly whether she was ready to head out on this adventure she told him she would make possible. Riley smiled back and raised a finger, indicating she’d be ready in a moment. Panic started to set in as she cursed under her breath and continued to try to get her friend back on the call. “Lyss.”

“Riley,” Alyssa laughed. “You’re still on the phone? No way! Hey, guys! Riley’s still on the phone. Say ‘hey’ to her!”

“NOO! Please, Alyssa, I need your help.”

“Whatcha need, Ri? You know I’ll do aaaanything for you.”

“Ok, do you remember when you caught our dorm room on fire senior year cooking ramen noodles in the microwave, and all my stuff burned up?”

“That checks. Sure.”

“Well, it’s time to pay up on that favor you said you’d owe me.”

Somehow, the planets must have been aligned just right, because a very inebriated Alyssa comprehended Riley’s request enough to talk to Damien about it and have it actually make sense. Luckily, the private detective knew a guy who drove a tugboat for the Port Authority working the night shift and was more than willing to see what he could do for Alyssa’s best friend.

-----------

Riley felt Liam’s arms tighten around her waist as the Statue of Liberty came into view. She had seen the landmark more times than she could remember in her life; perhaps she had become so accustomed to it being there that she took for granted how it would affect someone seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t until she twisted around in his arms to view his reaction, to see this beacon of freedom reflecting in his mesmerized eyes, that it all made sense. Liam was a beautiful man with a beautiful soul; if anyone deserved this moment to reflect on what it truly meant to embrace the freedom he longed for, it was him.

“What are you thinking, Liam?” She broke the silence.

He shook his head in wonderment. “It’s magnificent, Riley. I’ve heard art has meaning because of what it makes the viewer feel. Whether it’s ink splatters on a canvas or on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, it only matters if it moves you.”

“And?” 

Liam let out a sigh of contentment and lowered his gaze to her. “And right now, looking at this view with you … I feel like … anything is possible.”

“I feel that way too.” She slowly nodded, finding herself lost in his eyes, his voice, his embrace. Nothing in this moment mattered to her anymore: the long stream of bad luck, the crappy job she just lost, her epic failures at relationships. They all seemed to just wistfully fly out into the ocean and bury themselves below its sandy bottom. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, surrounded by the salty sea air and a skyline full of hopes and dreams, Liam pulled her as close to himself as she would go, his other hand moving up to caress the side of her face. Both searched longingly into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to make that next big move. 

Feeling an awakening of courage and fire in the depths of her fluttering stomach, she threw all fears and caution to the wind. Riley grasped on to the lapels of Liam’s jacket and gently lowered him to her eagerly awaiting lips.

The kiss was tender and brief, but magical; it left her spellbound. Riley could swear she floated out of her body and traveled into the clouds that blanketed above them and enveloped her wholly.

Liam rested his forehead on Riley’s; his hands reached down to grasp hers and swing freely alongside them. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Riley.”

“Is that before or after I knocked you out earlier?”

He chucked, rubbing the bump on the back of his head. “Both times. I’m certainly not sorry about either, though. I’ll never forget this night … or you.”

If you have a concussion, you might. She smiled up at him, “Me either.”

As their boat rounded the island, Riley took one last glance back at the statue that now represented so much more in her mind. Her gaze traveled across the expanse of the gleaming torch, down the long arm of the statue, over to the dim lights shining through the glass within the crown. Something caught her attention -- an odd movement -- and she couldn’t help but squint real hard to make out the image that was quite small from her vantage point. She tilted her head, trying to figure out what the hell she was seeing before it finally became clearer to her. She let out a loud gasp. “Oh my God!”

From behind, Liam leaned down next to her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked curiously, trying to match his view with her line of sight. “What are you seeing?”

Riley pointed up. “I see ass cheeks!” she replied in disgust. “And not just any ass cheeks … big, gigantic ones smooshed right up against the window. There’s two people up there just going at it and … oh, no wait, she just got turned around. Yep, yep, those look like boobies now. Who does that kind of thing, having sex where anyone could just see? And in the Statue of Liberty, of all places?”

Letting out a forced cough then clearing his throat, Liam squeezed Riley’s shoulders several times and laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. Sick freaks, huh?”

The pair watched the display for a second longer than they should have before turning to look at one another, blushing and smiling sheepishly. Riley only hoped she played off her disgust well enough that he didn’t realize she was a sick freak too.

Liam looked away, hoping the same.

---------

It was well past midnight.The Brooklyn streets were mostly bare, with only the occasional late-night dweller cruising the sidewalks or a yellow cab making its weekend rounds. Just a stone's throw across the bridge, the city that never slept, with its flashing lights and bustling tourist, lay in deep contrast to this quiet residential district that was only lit up at that hour by street lamps and halogen headlights.

Riley considered where she lived to be a fairly safe neighborhood. Crime and lawlessness weren’t unheard of, but it was rare for that area. Like many women of her young age, walking alone in the dark wasn’t something she usually set out to do unless she had no other choice. That’s why when Liam insisted he accompany her the few blocks from where they finished their excursion to see her home safely, she was more than willing to oblige him.

“This is my stop. Home sweet home.” Riley stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led to the entrance of her building and turned to Liam. She looked more gleeful than she actually was.

He glanced up at the plain red brick building. It was nothing special, but he made a mental note of the address numbers over its clear glass entryway. He knew it was unlikely he’d ever see her again, but on the off-chance, maybe someday if he was ever in the neighborhood … no, he thought … there’s no point in going there. “I see that ...it’s nice.”

Riley looked at him with a hopeful expression. “I know you said you had an early flight in the morning, but … if you’d like to come up …”

“I wish I could, Riley. Trust me, I want to more than you know; however, the limo will be here soon with my friends, and ...” he swept a strand of blowing hair from her face, memorizing her every feature. “... I don’t want to make this harder on either one of us.”

Nodding, Riley gave a half-smile. “I understand.”

They stared at one another for a moment, hoping to prolong the inevitable. “Come here, you.” Liam pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her. ”I can never thank you enough for everything tonight, Riley. I’m so glad I ran into you. Well ... actually you ran into me.” Riley let out a soft laugh that made his heart skip a beat. “You were the best part of my trip, Riley. I mean it.”

Before they knew it, the limo pulled up alongside the sidewalk in front of Riley’s apartment. Both felt a sinking feeling, knowing this was the end, and embraced a little tighter as the squeak of the limo’s brakes dulled and the awaiting engine ran in the silent backdrop.

Riley drew in a breath, the heels of her shoes tapping one another. “I guess this is goodbye?”

Frowning, Liam’s palms moved up to her face and rested along her jawline. “I’m afraid it looks that way.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, her arms winding around the back of his neck to hold him there for as long as she possibly could.

Knowing if he didn’t end it there, it never would, Liam broke their kiss, stroking his hand through her hair and said, “Take care, Riley.”

She smiled back. “You too, Liam.”

Not wanting to leave until he was sure she made it inside safely, Liam watched from the sidewalk while Riley slowly made her way up the concrete steps, scouring through her bag as she did so. When she reached the top, she stepped in front of the locked door, frantically digging and shaking her bag in search of the keys to get in. 

“Everything okay up there?” Liam called up to her as she knelt down and started frantically tossing items from her purse, slamming them down next to her feet: wallet, cell phone, lip gloss, ink pens, breath mints, hand sanitizer, a half-eaten bag of skittles, a box cutter she didn’t know she had, a marshmallow bunny from Easter, Midol, tampons …

“Mother fuck,” she grumbled in frustration to herself before yelling back cheerfully, “Yes, just looking for my keys. They’re always at the bottom,” she laughed, trying to make light of it. 

“They’re in your hand, Riley,” she heard him point out when she finally gazed down into her hand and slowly opened her palm. Liam let out a laugh when he saw her face twist up, realizing she had them the entire time. 

“Get out of here. You said you didn’t want to make this harder.” Riley began stuffing everything back into her bag.

He continued to laugh as he threw his hands up and stepped away. “I’m going.”

As soon as she unlocked the door and walked inside to the lit-up entryway, she heard the limo pull away. Everything in her wanted to look back in hopes he’d stayed behind by some chance and was walking up those steps, approaching the door, wanting her to let him in. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; the greatest guy she’d ever met was gone, and the only way to see him again would require a Google search. 

In her mind, though, she had made a prince’s dream come true. Maybe she wasn’t half bad after all.

In a huge way, Liam did the same for her. Too bad he would never know it.

___________

Riley opened the door and stepped inside her dark apartment, closing it behind her. After such a long day, feeling a little disheartened, all she wanted to do was slip into some comfy night clothes, wash her face, brush her teeth and crash until next week. Taking two steps away from the door, her foot caught on something and she went flying forward, landing with a hard thud to the floor. 

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of her chest when she hit the ground. “Son-of-a--?” She pushed herself up on her knees, shook out her sore hands, then reached over to flip the light switch on.

“Alyssa?” Riley whispered.

Lying on the ground, curled into a peaceful little ball, was her roommate, still in the same clothes she last saw her in, hands pressed together and tucked under her cheek like a sleeping cherub. Riley crawled over to Alyssa, swept her hair out of her face, and checked for breathing. The strong smell of alcohol emanated from her tiny sighs -- Alyssa wasn’t a heavy drinker. 

Concerned, Riley jiggled her arm. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

An angelic murmur was the only answer to her question.

Not wanting to leave her on the floor, Riley stood up and bent down, her hands grasping both of Alyssa’s wrists before she pulled her down their hallway as gently as she could and stepped into her best friend's bedroom. 

Huffing out of breath, she made it next to Alyssa’s bed. Riley crouched down and tried to lift her onto the mattress, but Alyssa was dead weight. Maybe she had no other choice but to leave her there. 

Riley pulled a blanket and pillow from the bed, rolled Alyssa to her side, and got her as comfortable as she could. After placing a wastebasket next to her friend and leaving a bottled water on the night table, she patted her back. “I have so many things to tell you in the morning, Lyss. You’d be so proud of me.” Riley swallowed down the emotions that had threatened to escape since she realized Liam had left for good. Her voice broken and feeble, she continued, “I took that risk. I was fearless, just like you told me to be. It didn’t work out the way I had hoped, but …” she sniffled through a small smile, blinking back tears. “... I have no regrets.”

Riley rose to her feet and headed for the door when she heard a faint voice call out from behind that stopped her in her tracks. “Ri?”

She turned her head. “Hmm?”

“I’m always proud of you.”

Switching the light off, Riley smiled back at her friend, who still appeared to be resting in a calm slumber. “I know. Good night, bestie.”

---------------

The next morning, just as the sun had peeked from behind the clouds and the air was fresh with newness and warmth, Riley woke. Today would differ from every day before. She didn’t want to lie in bed all day and dwell on what-might-have-beens or how her life was a dead end to nowhere. She was determined she wanted something more out of it -- whatever that may be.

Slipping on a pair of trainers, running tights and a long sleeve shirt, she pulled her hair up in a high ponytail and headed out.

She made it two blocks before collapsing on a bench, gasping for air, and flipping off a kid on a bike who was laughing and taunting her.

After five more blocks of running and taking a break at nearly every bench or stoop along the way -- that same jerky kid still deriding her as he circled around each block -- Riley made her way back to her building, hunched over and sweaty. She didn’t jog as far as she’d liked to, but she made the effort, for which she was pleased with herself. 

It also didn’t hurt that there was a mouthy kid out there somewhere with two flat bicycle tires, crying to his mom, that was giving her a new boost of life. 

Reaching for the door of her building, she chuckled to herself thinking about his pouty little face -- haha, sucks to be you, kid -- when someone yelled out her name.

“Shit,” she panicked, thinking the boy’s parents had found her and had come to beat her ass. Riley fumbled with her keys, trying to make a quick getaway inside.

“Hey, Riley! Stop.” The voice sounded oddly familiar, and curiosity couldn’t stop her from whipping her head around to take a quick peek. She instantly recognized the man who was racing up the stairs towards her, from the bar. He was one of the guys from Liam’s party last night who helped after the collision. 

Pulling the keys from the lock and gripping the pepper spray attached to them, she jumped back when he suddenly hopped up next to her like a fireball of energy.

“Riley. I’m so glad I caught up with you. I’m Maxwell -- we met last night -- and this is Rashad.” He pointed over his shoulder. The man gave a simple nod in return. “He was there, too.”

Her brows knit in confusion. “Oookay. You both aren’t here by chance upset over a couple of slashed bike tires, are you? Because that wasn’t me. I saw who did it, though, if you need a witness statement.” Riley’s eyes shifted around, looking for a person to match her fake would-be description.

Maxwell shook his head with a chuckle and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her gaze falling to it. “Nah, I came to talk to you about Liam. You’re all he could talk about when he got back to the hotel last night. He went on and on about the cafe, and the trip to the Statue of Liberty, and how beautiful you are ...”

“He -- he did?” She was pleasantly surprised, her heart bursting at his words.

“Yeah. We’re heading back to Cordonia so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia. Sooo … is there somewhere we can talk?”

----------------

“You want me to do what?” Riley jumped up from the sofa, her eyes wide and mouth gaping as she gawked back at Maxwell, who was sitting at the far end. Her trembling hand shot to her forehead before she paced back and forth. “Let me get this straight. You want to sponsor me to compete to marry a man I just met last night? And not just any man, a prince. You’re going to fly me halfway across the world -- You could be the Official Royal Serial Killer, for all I know -- then prance me around like some beauty pageant contestant?  And all I have to do is say ‘yes to the dress’ that you can’t afford? Just hop right on a plane with two strange men, huh? How naïve do I look to you?” Riley paused for a second. “Don’t answer that.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I saw how Liam looked at you last night at the bar, and later when he returned from your date. I’ve never seen him that happy before. Honestly, I don’t want him to lose that. We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving in an hour.”

“An hour?” Riley questioned as she plopped down on the coffee table, her back to Maxwell and the guy in the chair across the room who hadn’t said a word the whole time. It was a once-in-a-lifetime offer to travel somewhere new and exciting and literally rub elbows with royalty. To live out that fairytale that most girls could only dream of. But more importantly, it was a way to see Liam again, and she wanted to so badly … if Maxwell was indeed telling the truth. 

Even if nothing came of it, there was no job tying her down anymore. Her dad had just gotten married to her stepfather and stayed busy as a chef for Beyonce and Jay-Z, so he would be fine, and she had enough money in savings to pay her portion of the rent while she was gone and expenses for her travels. There was just one thing she would insist on.

Riley spun around on the table, her eyes flashing between the two men. “I will do this -- on one condition.”

Maxwell clapped his hands excitedly. “Yes! Just name it and it’s yours.”

“Max.” Rashad leaned forward in his chair, his elbows pressed into his knees. “You don’t even know what she wants yet.”

“I’m getting to that.” Maxwell turned to her with an arched brow. “Okay, Riley. What is your condition?”

She hadn’t even asked Alyssa yet, but Riley steepled her fingers and volunteered her, anyway. “My roommate has to go with me.”

“No problemo.”

“What -- Really?”

“Sure. She can ride the jet back with us and I’ll even help her find a good hotel room nearby so you two can visit … if you’re able to find time in between all the competitions, balls, traveling, lessons, and what not. It’ll be great!”

Riley shook her head adamantly, not willing to budge on the issue. “No! I want Alyssa there for all of those things. If I even have the slightest chance of being a serious contender and a fully functioning human being, I need someone there to make sure I don’t do anything stupid … and I will … a lot.  Plus, she’s my best friend, and I’m not doing this without her.”

Feeling the pressure to relent and the seconds ticking away until takeoff, Maxwell’s shoulders slumped, taking in Riley’s pleading expression. “I -- I don’t know what to do. Your friend would have to be sponsored also in order to stay with you. She would have to be a suitor and compete for Liam’s hand just like you and all the other ladies, and there can only be one sponsee for each noble house. If you’re our pick, then she would need to have someone of nobility who doesn’t have a suitor yet and knows it’s all a ... ruse …” he trailed off, grinning impishly, as an idea suddenly popped into his head. Maxwell’s gaze swept across the room and landed on his friend, Rashad, who had a deer-in-the-headlights look, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“Oh no. Leave me out of this,” he insisted while waving his hands back and forth. “This is all on you, Maxwell.”

“No, don’t say that yet.” Riley sprang to her feet and grabbed a picture frame from a nearby table, falling to her knees in front of Rashad to beg. “This is Alyssa.” She cheerfully pointed her friend out in the picture, delighted when the Lord of Domvallier’s eyes grew and seemed more than intrigued. “She’s not only beautiful, charming, and supportive, but she’s the smartest person I know. Everyone just loves her. And even though she won’t want to win because of me, she’ll represent your house with the greatest of integrity and propriety. I swear it.” 

“It’s for Liam,” Maxwell interjected, wagging his brows. “Imagine how grateful he’ll be when he finds out your part in making this happen for him.”`

Rashad let out a heavy groan. “Max, you know I would do anything for a friend -- especially Liam -- but it’s not that simple. There’s a reason why Domvallier opted not to have a suitor join this season: I have business dealings in California that coincide with some of the competitions. And with Mother’s and Father’s health in decline, I couldn’t possibly burden them with traveling and overseeing a suitor. It just wouldn’t work.”

Riley turned to Maxwell. “Well … couldn’t she just hang out with us most of the time? It’s not like she’d be in it to win it, anyway.”

“I don’t see why not.” Maxwell shrugged. “We all travel and stay together for the most part anyway.” He glanced over at Rashad, who could do nothing but stare at the two of them bouncing like eager children with big cheshire grins, while he literally decided the fate of a woman who had no idea she had just been volunteered to “pretend” compete for the hand of a prince the entire summer, in another country, and had to board a plane in just under an hour.

Rashad sighed and took the photo from Riley’s hand, giving it a quick glance. He was definitely smitten by the bright, blue-eyed woman with the big dimpled smile and wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, particularly if she was everything described to him. “I should have gone with Drake back to the plane.” He shook his head and handed the photo back to Riley. “Can’t believe I’m doing this, but --” 

Before he even finished his thought, Maxwell and Riley leaped to their feet to celebrate, whooping and howling around him, ruffling his jet black hair, hugging, and clapping him several times on the chest.

“What’s going on?”

The three of them whipped their heads around at the raspy-sounding voice that caught their attentions.

“Lyss!” Riley’s eyes lit up at the sight of her best friend standing there; she couldn’t wait to share all the good news with her. Maxwell, and particularly Rashad’s, jaws dropped at the sight before them. They both did a double take of the picture in the frame and then back to the petite brunette who wore a rumpled party dress, was missing one flat shoe, and sported smudged mascara under her sunken eyes and hair flying in every direction.

Riley moved over to Alyssa, placing a gentle hand on her arm with a smile. “Alyssa. These gentlemen are from Cordonia -- It’s somewhere you need a plane ride for. This is Lord Maxwell Beaumont.” She gestured and received a wave back. “And this is Lord Rashad of Doberman Pinscher,” she stated in a posh accent.

“Domvallier,” he corrected, stunned and still unable to take his eyes off his new suitor.

“Lords?” she questioned in a feeble tone; Riley nodded back at her.

Alyssa smiled at the two strangers, then lowered her head and curtsied like she was wearing a ball gown before them. “How do you do? Welcome to House Devereaux-Brooks. It’s so kind of you to stop by and make our acquaintances. Please do make yourselves at home.” She straightened back up and immediately turned to Riley. “I’m dying. Where’s the Advil?”

Riley insisted Alyssa have a seat while she retrieved the Advil and a glass of water for her. Feeling that was a fair deal, Alyssa stumbled over to the couch, accidentally stepping on Maxwell, who held onto her arms and helped her the rest of the way. When she was seated, she leaned forward, rubbing soothing circles around her temples, willing the room to stop spinning. Riley shuffled back with two pills and a cool bottle of water, and handed them to Alyssa, who hastily threw back and chugged nearly the entire thing. She couldn’t remember a time when she felt so thirsty.

No one knew really how to respond just yet. Rashad conferred in hushed tones with Maxwell, as Alyssa kept her eyes closed for a moment, taking in slow, deep breaths. Everything from head to toe ached and throbbed. 

Finally, she smacked her still-dry mouth and announced, “Okay, I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, everyone. It was so nice to meet you all.” She moved to the edge of the sofa when Riley pressed lightly on her shoulders, holding her back.

“Wait a minute, Lyss. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Lowering the shades in the living room to block the sun from Alyssa’s sensitive eyes, Riley began to explain how she met Liam at the bar last night and was asked to go out for a drink with him. Alyssa nodded her head slowly as she followed along, somewhat remembering their phone conversation about the date, how he was a prince, and the Statue of Liberty -- Lyss was proud of herself for being a part of making that happen. The next of their conversation continued on to Liam returning to his country for the social season in which he was expected to find someone to marry by the end of the summer. “I’m so sorry he had to leave, but what does any of this have to do with you, Ri?” 

Riley glanced over her shoulder. “That’s where these two guys come in.”

Alyssa followed her friend’s gaze then shook her head. “I’m not following.”

“Maxwell wants to sponsor me to travel to Cordonia to compete for Liam. And we leave in an hour. Yay!” She raised her arms in a V, trying to garner excitement from her roommate, knowing she’d probably freak out.

And she did. “YOU CAN’T GO TO A FOREIGN COUNTRY! FOR ALL YOU KNOW THESE GUYS ARE SERIAL KILLERS OR SEX TRAFFICKERS!” Alyssa looked at Rashad and smiled shyly. “Not you, of course.” She then eyed Maxwell. “Probably him.”

“I know, I know. But that’s kinda, sorta where you come in.” Riley’s eyes danced around the room while tugging on the hem of her shirt.

“What do you mean?”

Maxwell checked the time on his phone as Riley laid out the details, point by point, to her friend, who guzzled the last bit of her water as she found out she had basically been enlisted into becoming a suitor as well. Alyssa spit out her water. “WHAT?”

Rashad sighed and looked for paper towels to dry off his lap.

Taking in Alyssa’s bug-eyed stare, Riley scrambled to make the whole situation sound more appealing to her.

“There’s skiing --”

“You know I can’t ski.”

“There’s ice skating --”

“Are you trying to break both of my ankles at the same time?”

“There’s horseback riding --”

“Oh, God, horses?”

“And beaches.”

Alyssa started to complain before stopping herself. “Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. But still, Ri --”

“Please, Alyssa,” Riley pleaded, her still-small voice just above a whisper. She sat down on the coffee table again, across from her friend, eyes glassy. “I would never ask you to do something so big for me. But, I want you there … I need you there. This … this is the guy, Lyss. He’s the one.”

Seeing the hopeful expression staring back at her, Alyssa’s heart sank. She set aside the empty bottle and leaned forward, placing a compassionate hand on Riley’s. “First of all, you don’t need me. You’re more than capable of doing this on your own. I mean, give yourself a little credit … you landed a prince.” They both let out soft laughs before she continued. “But, secondly, you know I’m a hopeless romantic. So if this is the only way you’ll go … count me in.”

As the two of them hugged and Riley expressed her fervent thanks, Maxwell cleared his throat and interrupted their happy moment. The girls turned to him as he stated, “I hate to break all of this up -- I really do. This is like the totally awesome stuff I live for -- but we’re pressed for time now. Our friend Drake is already on the plane waiting and isn’t above leaving without us.”

“Oh good. Doesn’t he sound like a little ray of sunshine?” Alyssa scoffed, causing Riley to snicker and drawing half a smirk from Rashad.

The guys headed down to the limo while the girls rummaged through their rooms, stuffing as many of their things as they could possibly fit into suitcases and bags. After taking turns getting quick showers, being vigilant of the time, they double checked to make sure they had what they needed for an extended trip, planning to  call friends and family on the drive to the airport to let them know where they would be.

Alyssa slipped on a pair of sunglasses as she stepped into the hallway, while Riley locked the door to their apartment behind them. “And you’re sure this Liam is worth all this?”

Riley regarded her thoughtfully before letting out a contented sigh, “Yeah. He’s worth it.”

Alyssa shrugged and pushed the sunglasses higher on her nose. “Well, if we don’t die, we’ll have a hell of a story to tell.”

-----------

Fearless Tags (Let us know if you wanted add or removed from this taglist, it won’t be our regular permalists)

@dcbbw​ @ao719​  @texaskitten30​ @janezillow​ @mskaneko​  @callmeellabella​ @queenjilian​ @sirbeepsalot​  @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @bebepac​ @kingliam2019​  @amandablink​  @choiceskatie​ @annekebbphotography​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @alyssalauren​ @cordonianroyalty​ @mom2000aggie​  @princessleac1​ @kimmiedoo5​ @graceful-leah​ @thegreentwin​ @gkittylove99​  @pink-diamond13​ @tinkie1973​ @queenrileyrose​ @zaffrenotes​ @no-one-u-know​ @sammie0220​ @shanzay44​ @yourmajesty09​  @bitchloveskcbaseball​ @kat-tia801​ @openheart12​ @drakeandkatherine​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @masterofbluff​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @msjr0119​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @sanchita012​ @gabesmommie1130​ @charlotteg234​ @jessiembruno​ @debramcg1106​

In case your interested: @sweatyrysconnoisseur​ @neotericthemis​

[itsallabigmess]

Crescente | Part Two

Slow burn Friends to Lovers AU A bit of angst, a bit of flirt, lots of cliches.

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

Through the taxi window, you watch lazily as the bright lights and busy streets morph into a long road lined on both sides with palm trees, their tops waving slightly with the breeze. You slept for most of the 6-hour flight and is still finding it hard to beat your half-sleep state.

The cab makes a turn and comes to a stop in front of the main building of the resort. The cold breeze hits you as soon as you climb out of the vehicle and you close your eyes, smiling to yourself when you sense the smell saltwater. Somewhere in the distant darkness, you could hear the waves crashing.

Jinyoung touches your arm and nods towards the entrance, where you can see a valet attendant already taking both your and your friend’s bags. You are greeted as soon as you step inside, by a little woman with a broad smile. How could anyone sound so enthusiastic at such an early hour would be forever a mystery to you. Jinyoung hands her both your passports – you don’t even remember when he got a hold of yours – and you watch as she enters your information into the system.

Still smiling, she slides a navy-blue folder with the resort’s name stamped in gold. Her lips are moving but you can barely make out what she is saying. There was something about congratulations to the couple and a list of things you were allowed during your stay. Whatever it was, you were certain it could all acknowledge once the sun was up. For the moment, you only cared to know the directions to your bed.

You manage to smile warmly, thanking the receptionist when she hands Jinyoung the key-card to your room. Your gaze swims through Jinyoung’s features as he adjusts the strap of his backpack over his shoulder and grabs the folder. You were not so confident that you wouldn’t be left completely alone with your own thoughts during this trip until the moment Jinyoung met you at the boarding gate. The previous days you had barely exchanged any words. You were still not sure why he decided to come along but had decided you would spend the following days making sure he knew how grateful you were to him.

 ---

“Holy shit!” you say, dropping your backpack by your side on the ground once you crossed the door. You were not expecting the villa you were going to stay to be so opulent. But then again, why wouldn’t it be, considering you were staying in a luxury resort. “This is bigger than my place.”

“As if it was hard to be,” Jinyoung snorted, leading the way inside.

You rolled your eyes and ignore the tease and the fact that Jinyoung seemed utterly unimpressed.  You stepped slowly towards the absurdly spacious living room, eyes traveling from side to side. There are just many details your tired eyes don’t seem able to process. You’ve been up since 5 of the previous morning, going from your 9-hour job directly to the airport. The time you passed out during the flight was not enough to restore your energy and you were certain you would pass-out at any second.

Grabbing your backpack, you follow the way Jinyoung had made upstairs. You wonder if that was how the rich lived. If they would be just as speechless by the size of the room as you were. Your eyes fixed on the gigantic bed, well made and ready to devour your tired body.

And then… the engines of your brain start to work properly.

“Ahm… Jinyoung?”

He appears at the other door across the room, where you assume is the bathroom.  You don’t need to speak for him to understand the worry growing on your eyes. “Were you really expecting something else?”

You look up at your unbothered friend. Of course, that was supposed to be a trip for a couple. Somehow, the fact that the place would have only one bed skipped your mind. You didn’t mind sharing it. But did he?

“Don’t worry, I can sleep on the couch,” Jinyoung suggests, nodding towards the padded furniture under the room’s large windows. It does look comfortable enough for a person to sleep at, for sure. But still, it wasn’t fair. Especially considering how long you were going to stay there.

You shake your head slowly “No, that’s okay. We can share.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, that bed is obviously too big for just me,” you yawn, kicking off your shoes. “Do you mind if I shower first?”

“Go ahead.”

 ---

You hear Jinyoung’s light snores before you even open your eyes. You fell asleep as soon as you got to bed and wasn’t sure if Jinyoung would actually take the empty spot on your side. Lifting your body, you rub your eyes and stare at the couch on the opposite side of the bed. You could only imagine the hell of a neck pain Jinyoung would feel during the whole trip if he had decided to be a gentleman and let the bed all to yourself.

You get up, making sure to stay as silent as possible as you grabbed your necessaire to the bathroom. Now, well-rested and aware of every detail, you decided that the bathroom alone was the size of your living room and kitchen combined. You loved your apartment but only now realized how small it really was. You really could not complain when your friends teased you about it anymore.

With your hair fixed into a ponytail and teeth brushed, your walk towards the marble bathtub, Spying through the window, you let out a silent curse and runs downstairs.

Air catches on your throat after you open the double window door. Yes, there’s a private pool. That was fascinating on its own but what shocked you was the only thing that separated you from the sea was a small wooden ramp and a few feet of white sand. The villa wasn’t close to the beachside. It was on the beach.

“Is everything okay?” Jinyoung appears a minute later, voice hoarse and hair a complete mess, hiding his eyes from the brightness of the day.

“I’m in heaven!” You stretch your arms as if saying aren’t you seeing this?!

A growl. That’s all you get out of him before he goes back inside. Maybe he would feel better after you found some food to put inside his body. You need Jinyoung to be on the same level of excitement that you are.

Turns out you could eat all the food you want for free at the main restaurant of the resort. It sounded like the recipe for bad food until Jinyoung points out that every item of the menu has a price on its side, and you eating for free was part of the vacation package.

Relishing the plate of waffles and fresh fruit that you made for yourself, you reach for your shorts back pocket and grab the folded list of activities the resort offered. “How do you feel about snorkeling?”

Jinyoung gives a shrug, eyes on his own plate. “I’m not completely opposed to it.”

On the week before the trip you two agreed to not tell any of your friends about you traveling together. Neither you nor Jinyoung were in the mood to deal with all the teasing and inquiries that would come from your friends. Not to mention the frustrating whining from your girlfriends because ‘how dare you to invite Jinyoung instead of any of them’. Girl drama was completely off the limits for you for the next ten days.

The bad part of it was that, by avoiding your friends, you could not ask Jackson the circumstances of Jinyoung’s break up. Over the years you witnessed Jinyoung go through some things that really put him down. His reaction was always different, but you never saw him in the shape he is. It isn’t sadness, at least not completely. No, this is apathy. And you don’t know how to deal with that version of him.

“Here says we can get a boat to one of the nearby islands and snorkel close to the reefs,” you tap at the folder in front of you, hoping Jinyoung would accept your suggestion.

“We have to schedule it with the front desk before,” he says in a monotonous tone.

The normal Jinyoung would make fun of you for not finding it obvious. The normal Jinyoung would probably complain about you not listening to what the woman in the front desk said on the night before. But this Jinyoung only shrugs and fills his mouth with a giant bite of eggs and bacon.

“We can do something else too,” you tell him.

“Let’s check with the front desk first,” Jinyoung stares at you, his lips forming a straight line. Maybe he was trying to smile, but it couldn’t be more forced. It was enough for now.

--- 

Entering your information on her computer, Kaila, another overly excited receptionist informs that yes, all activities should be scheduled at least an hour before, but since you are still far from the high season, you don’t need to worry about it that much. She suggests a half-day at the blue lagoon, a favorite spot for anyone who visits the place. Since Jinyoung doesn’t oppose – or say anything for that matter – you ask Kaila to sign you two for to the boat ride.

“All setup,” Kaila smiles half a minute later. “The van will departure at ten.”

You thank her and rush back to the villa. There’s just enough time to spray some sunscreen on your body and change into one of your swimsuits.

There are already music playing, coming from the boat when you arrive at the harbor. The tour guide greats your small group one by one, telling everybody to find a sit. He passes the itinerary for the six hours you will be spending together, safety instructions, and all. You feel the movement of waves below and while everyone gets distracted with the drinks being served, you become fascinated with the contrasts of blue in the sky.

“We sure don’t have this shade of blue back home,” you sigh, chin resting on an arm over the railing. You wait for an answer. Jinyoung is staring in the same direction as you, or so you think, his eyes hidden by dark shades. You know he must be impressed. Jinyoung was always good at appreciating views like that. And still… “Come on, Jinyoung,” you push his shoulder not so lightly. “You have to admit this place is amazing.”

“It is,” he says flatly, a hand moving to the back of his neck, wiping a bit of sweat. “And it sure is warm.”

After going back home you would call Jinyoung’s ex-girlfriend. You are sure you still have her number saved. You liked her though. Even if you never got incredibly close to each other, you always enjoyed her presence when you spend time together. But she broke your friend’s heart. And that you could not let pass. But for now…

For now, you decide to enjoy your vacation. It’s just like Jackson said: Jinyoung likes to go deep into his own sadness before deciding he was over it. And until that happened, there was really nothing you could do to help him. Even because Jinyoung was not giving you an opportunity to do so.

Sighing, you remove your shirt and shorts, tucking it inside the small bag you brought with you and hiding it under the seat. You decide to join a couple of girls that are sunbathing in the deck. You have no interest in socializing, but you also don’t want to spend the entire morning sitting on the shadows, letting Jinyoung down mood intoxicate you.

And yes, you do feel a bit guilty for it, but you let that feeling steam away with the heat.

Once the boat stops at the island, the tour guide gathers the group and lists the options: explore the island, snorkel around the coral garden or join him and a local to a separate area of the island, where you could swim with stingrays.

“Staying in the boat is an option,” he says, “for those who want to continue to drink or swim nearby. Lunch will be served on the island at one. You can see the tables from here,” he points towards the island, a few benches and tables disposed of in front of what appeared a small green house. “Please keep in mind to be back at the boat by four. Now, let’s have some fun!”

As people start to scatter and jump on the water, you see Jinyoung standing in the back, hands shoved inside the pockets of his blue shorts. You catch a mask and diving shoes with the guide before joining your friend.

“Are you going to stay here?” you ask, handing him the mask so you can slip your feet inside the shoes that were a bit small for you.

“For now.”

“Well,” you take the mask of Jinyoung’s hands to wear, its oval shape covering only your eyes. “Tell me I look stupid.”

“You look stupid.”

“Great!” you show him your teeth in an exaggerated smile, emphasizing it by giving a double thumbs-up. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

The water is cold, but you soon get used to it. You swim away from everyone, towards the coral garden. It’s your first time snorkeling and you are doing a poor job at it, often coming up for some air. You don’t care. Just like the fish that swim around you, not caring for your presence. Underwater, you let yourself be consumed by the colors, the silence, the feeling that nothing else matters. And when you feel tired of swimming around, you take off your mask and just stay there, floating. The little waves making your heart calm.

That was already the best day you had in a long time.

On the island, you go stray to where the lunch would be served. It was still early for food but you sure could use a soft drink to wash away the salty taste the ocean left on your mouth.

The diving shoes do a great job of protecting your feet from the hot sand. But as you walk where water could only reach your ankles, you did not wait to get rid of it. And how pleasant it felt when you did.

Small waves of turquoise water refreshed your skin as you try to hide your feet under the sand. You used to do just that when you were a little child, on the few occasions you went to the beach with your parents. And even though there were no children around now you sure felt giggly like one.

“What are you doing?” you hear Jinyoung’s voice coming somewhere from behind you.

Holding the shoes with one hand and the mask with the other, he caught you in a silly moment of kicking the water to your front, watching the drops of water fall down, and then doing it again. Turning around, you do the same thing on Jinyoung’s direction, wetting his white shirt.

“Please don’t do that,” he says stepping back, looking down the little trail of salty water that went from his right shoulder until the opposite side of his shorts.

You frown in disappointment. Did he really stay all this time only on the boat? “You are no fun, Park.” You do another spin in the water, the sand tickling your feet. “Why do you still have your shirt on?” you ask, pointing at him with your shoes.

“I’m fine like this,” he says simply. “They are starting to serve lunch.”

The barbecue served tastes as amazing as it looked. Somehow, it reminds you of the Korean barbecue, you so much love. Except there are no side dishes there apart from some green salad and rice. You glance at Jinyoung and decides to keep that comment to yourself, certain he would find the comparison offensive.

So, you eat silently, trying not to pay attention to all the talking happening around you. You allow yourself a fruity cocktail, dipping the slices of the fruit salad that was served as dessert on your cup before biting it. When all is finished, cheeks feeling all warm with the combination of sun and alcohol, you get up unceremoniously and make your way back to where the ocean awaits for you.

Walking along the shore, you find sit under the shades, a perfect spot where you can you’re your back against the tree trunk, and still feel the water soaking your feet. In this heaven, you could fall sleep in a second, and you smile to yourself considering the possibility.

“You shouldn’t just wander around by yourself, you know.”

You don’t open your eyes as you feel Jinyoung sitting on your left. “It’s a small island, Jinyoung. The chances of me getting lost are nonexistent.”

Of course, Jinyoung doesn’t respond. Still, you sigh in frustration. If the rest of the trip was deemed to be like that maybe you should become as monosyllabic as he has been.

You open one eye to look at him. His eyes are still hidden between glasses, but you know he is looking at the horizon. “There’s a bit of sand here…” you reach for the grains on his jaw, right below his ear, cleaning it with the tip of your fingers... You never felt uncomfortable being silent around Jinyoung and still, you really wish you could translate whatever was going on inside of him and find a way to make him happy.

“I think I’m going in the water again,” you say simply, trying to figure out how to put your diving shoes on again now that your feet are covered with sand. “You should go for a dip, you know,” you suggest as casually and unbothered as you could. “It’s not every day that we have a chance to be in a place like this.”

How long has it been since you allowed yourself to not think about anything and just… be? You couldn’t remember. So, you just swim and float and dive until, somehow, you notice people going back to the boat. You were not surprised to find Jinyoung on the exact same spot where you both sat earlier.

The boat is already moving back to the marine when you get out of the little bathroom, glad to have brought a piece of underwear with you. You manage to get most of you dry but somehow, there was still sand scattered over your body.

Jinyoung leans forward, his head almost going in between his legs. He stays like that for a few minutes, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?” you ask, rubbing his back lightly.

“Not really,” he says, moving quickly to place his head outside the boat. He doesn’t throw up, but his breath is unsteady. When you finally get to see his face, you notice how pale he looks.

You rush to find a bottle of freshwater. Jinyoung drinks half of it quickly and uses the rest to clean his face and neck. You think it’s the first time you see him without his sunglasses since you two went for breakfast.

“Do you want to lay down? There is enough space.”

He shakes his head, leaning back against the railing. The way he is breathing only makes you wish the trip back would not take too long.

 ---

You are about to start a second movie on Netflix when your stomach starts to grumble. Jinyoung recovered his color once you arrived back at the villa. But still feeling nauseated and with a massive migraine, he took his time in the bathroom and then fell into a deep slumber.

After cleaning yourself you decide to stay around, just in case Jinyoung needed something. It was just your first day on the trip and there were a lot more that you could do the next day. You took a little nap at the couch in the living room, spent some time scrolling through Instagram and then checked something off your watch list.

But now, you are in desperate need of food.

At the front desk, Lisa, the same tiny receptionist that greeted you on the previous night, reminds you that you don’t need to leave to resort to enjoy a good meal. And even though the bayside restaurant is full for the night, she can get you a table with a great view at the terrace restaurant.

The view is, in fact, amazing. From your table, you can see how the moon reflects in the ocean, the top of palm trees forming a perfect frame.

You order the Homemade Gnocchi that your waiter suggests, along with whatever wine he says go well with it. And while melting in your chair with the flavors dancing on your mouth, you consider ordering the same thing for Jinyoung before going back to the villa. You left him a note after giving up on trying to wake him for a couple of minutes. The man was beyond passed out.

Which was why you were a bit shocked when he sat in front of you, just as your waiter removed your empty plate.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Front desk.”

You stare at him for a long second. His eyes are still puffy, and it looks like the salty air is already messing with his hair. Sure, he still has this aura of ‘I wish I was still in bed’. But besides that, he looks better than he was earlier.

“You could have asked for room service, you know,” his words come out lazily, fingers tapping over the table.

“I rather limit the time I spend in the room to the hours I’ll be sleeping,” you don’t intend to sound annoyed. But you do. And you feel guilty because you want to blame it on him, but you don’t feel like you can. So, you just sigh and lean back on your chair. “But you could have asked it for yourself. Room service, I mean.”

“You wrote you would bring me something.”

“You could have texted me not to.”

“And where is your phone, exactly?”

“Oh…” After failing in waking Jinyoung, you tried to be as quiet as you could, leaving the villa so fast that just now you realized you have forgotten your phone charging close to the bathroom sink.

Silence settles between you two, being broken only when the waiter brings the desert you had asked for. Jinyoung orders a simple salad, and you decide to focus on a delicious sugary bowl placed in front of you. “If I had gone to dinner anywhere outside the resort, would you still have come after me?” you ask minutes later.

Jinyoung’s eyes travel from you to the view over the balcony, letting out another annoyed sigh. If your dessert wasn’t so good, you would feel compelled to throw the empty bowl in his head, just to get some sort of reaction. Anything. Instead, you call for the waiter and ask for another glass of wine.

He could have said no. When you knocked at his door, you expected him to say no. You had already given up on the idea of coming to this trip when he agreed to come with you. You guessed it was because he saw this the same way that you did: an opportunity to get over your broken hearts. Well, his broken heart. For you, it was more of ‘compensation for all the time you lost with the asshole you used to call your boyfriend’.

And yes, you understand how Jinyoung is feeling. Breakups aren’t the easiest thing in the world. Even if it was him the ended things – which you don’t believe is the case. Still, you can’t avoid being mad at him. Does he believe that he owns your company because you invited him? You do want to enjoy this trip with your friend but if he decided to stay in bed all day every day, it was more than fine. He just needed to tell you so, instead of looking at you like you forced him to be there with you.

Was that it? You did tell him that you only asked him to go with you and would not ask anyone else. So, were you to blame?

There it was, the feeling of guilt once again. Maybe it was your fault. Jinyoung was not ready to socialize, and maybe you put him in a situation he felt he needed to agree with.

You obviously need to talk to him but decides to do so in the next morning. Because even if you are mad at yourself, you still are mad at him. You and Jinyoung are good friends. You have always been good friends. He could have just told you those things instead of acting like you were someone he was forced to interact with.

Overthinking all the way from the restaurant to the villa, and then a bit more while doing your nightly routine, you lay in one of the pool loungers and finally begin to relax. You close your eyes and focus on the sound of the waves in the distance, the wind kindly touching your skin. But you are sure is the glasses of wine that you drank that leads you straight to slumber.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

Your eyes hardly opened to see Jinyoung standing on your side. You just grumble and turn to your side, giving him your back.

“It’ late,” he says, voice sounding closer. “Go to bed.”

“I’m good here.”

“Y/N, you are cold,” you feel a warm touch on your naked arm.

“We can try changing the villa tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Hm… This villa for two simple bedrooms,” you curl yourself, your hands going in between your knees.

“What are you talking about?”

You open your eyes again and see Jinyoung kneeling in front of you. “So you won’t have to deal with me.”

It’s silent again and you are already falling back to sleep when you feel his hands on you again, pulling your arms up, and then his own arms going behind your legs and back, lifting you up.

“Jinyoung,” you growl in discontent.

“I’m not letting you sleep in the cold,” his voice sound muffled, the side of your head pressed against his chest as he carries you up the stairs.

You are just too sleepy to object.

[nextwarden]

Archenemies - Part I

Disclaimer: partially inspired by Supercorp and the very enjoyable facets of their dynamic. Hope you enjoy.

Commotions are always a good indicator of such happenings.

The first eyes on the scene are of course those of curious and surprised bystanders. Rarely does such an event be broadcast in advance. It's happened before, of course. Only a handful of times, however. It means the evildoers are confident in their plan and seek attention, two very bad news for any respectable super. The last time it's been the case, panic managed to erupt, only quelled by the competent authorities with some effort. Some joker tried to replicate the one before last, he's apprehended after barely an hour of shenanigans and threats, each more unbelievable than the last. What he tried to emulate, however, remains scarred deep in the minds of many. Blood and ashes flowing on the grass of the Magnus Arena in the city center on a crisp summer day, and the center itself drowned in cries of pain and terror. On that tragic day, SkullB makes the decision to invest in the services of both Mister Mind and LaValette, two of the most intelligent and cunning cons out there. One hundred and eighty six people die, each one in a slow and far too well documented way. Three pros are amongst them; experienced supers, yet they fall prey to SkullB's devious plans. Dame Seven, Verustoski, husband and wife in the business since the late 70s, and Sunny Sin, a young yet very capable teenage wiz, give their lives in exchange for SkullB's.

Mind and LaValette are, of course, smart enough to see themselves out once it turns in their disfavour, almost as if they see it coming. The former is caught a few days later, splurging on an online casino in his own underground mansion, while the latter still eludes the authorities to this day, taunting both pros and cons in an odd twist of fate. They realize the whole affair is getting far too out of hand, and some even speculate one of them (or both) to consort with the authorities to create the distraction that allows to bring out most of the hostages and to take down SkullB. That stems from irregularities in the chronology of the event and the fact that LaValette apparently decides to own up to her actions after that day. Not completely mind you, but enough to make a difference with a surprisingly efficient foil to many a plan, good or bad. Over the next few years it's apparent she's taken upon herself to remove supers altogether. Not in a definitively violent way, shockingly, but using her agile mind to dismantle actions undertaken to a significant risk to the city and its people. Dynopolis grows less weary and more peaceful due to that. It lasts a sufficient while for her to gain a strange and ambivalent status of anti-hero - chaotic good, as many surmise, in similar leagues to that of the legendary Crime Man himself, some add.

That changes over time as more and more supers, heroes and villains alike, manage either in their smarts, numbers, or luck, to pull and tug at the seams and reveal the cracks in her masterplan. What it loses in her ability, however, the city gains in balance. Many new pro upstarts join the ranks of a newly reformed agency, trying to attain both glory and riches, and to "do the people of this city some good". It's obviously been mirrored by the rise in organized and supercharged crime. That tendency is there from the beginning, structured even before the pros are themselves. It naturally evolves with the times and the influence of one changes the other. Not that they necessarily know - she doesn't care much for one or the other - but she naturally leans into that tendency. If one wants to make a difference by playing the game, one has to remove themself sufficiently from the board, and that she does in a surreptitiously efficient manner.

The second factor which sees to an apparent decline in her efficiency had been more subtle and more specific (although she would argue that it's not so much a decline rather than a shift of focus). It baffles a number and is the joyous guilty pleasure of some others, more observant or perhaps more versed in theorizing. It's fairly unnoticeable at first, by the audience as well as by those involved. The powerful blonde enters the scene unnamed and unknown, and almost by coincidence - officially "on a whim". A small incident takes place in the southern branch of Nat·Bank, devolving into a chaotic chase over land and sea. A simple passerby at the time, the greenhorn not-hero (yet) jumps to action, pursuing the robbers onto the beach and into the coastal waters once they reach their means of escape. Perhaps it's her gallant effort in taking them down despite their ion guns and reinforced armours, bringing the boat back to shore single handedly. Quite literally at that: she emerges on the warm sand pulling the swift vessel behind her, dragging it to the middle of the beach for the authorities to arrest the now baffled culprits. Many onlookers capture and immortalize this moment, making her drenched fit form into an object of many speculations for weeks to come. Her identity somehow remains unknown behind a hasty yet well-placed mask of cloth and nothing is made of it despite extensive research and avid requests on all fronts.

...

Dantra reveals herself almost two months later, to the day, new protegee of sorceress Saralis and a fresh recruit of the H.E.R.O. program - revamped by a retired Dynaman and funded by the Ministry of Defense to raise and promote fresh blood to the side of justice. She's expected to tour the studios and is breathed to be the new mascot of the agency; yet, despite all her efficiency and achievements on the field, she remains as elusive as on the day of her appearance on the chaotic stage. Her speculated concealed beauty adds to her engaging demeanor during her interventions, on top of her flashy yet efficient use of her power. Her flawless track record, only highlighted by her immediate appeal following her first and only late night show appearance, made her an almost instantaneous star, rising fast into the pantheon of revered supers. Some wait for her eventual demise, criticizing her close interactions with fans during downtime and her refusal at revealing too much about herself, theorizing many reasons, each stranger and more somber than the last. Yet it does not happen. She assimilates into the lifestyle flawlessly and durably, it seems. Perhaps too flawlessly for some. Not exactly dwindling, her popularity somewhat reaches a peak over the first year and a half during which she becomes active.

If she's anything, Dantra is not discontent. She takes it in stride, making the most of her situation, to the greatest pleasure of her enduring fans. If she's to plummet, she will, not that it will stop her from doing what was right as long as she was able to. Or so she tells the young reporter who manages to get the first interview in months. And she does, standing as a proud beacon of righteousness and letting life take its course as she does all that is possible to protect and help. This despite the insistence by the agency that she capitalize on her success. She does not yield, however, and accepts that interview on their recommendation only to clear some misconceptions that seem to have arisen over time. No she does not wear a cape and does not plan to as it would hinder her movements. Yes, that piece of white cloth she wears over her face is a replica of the original one, it's been retailored and enchanted by Saralis herself to not be easily removed. Oh she doesn't know if one could say 'superstar', she is proud to make a difference however. Definitely M'Persent, she's been amazed at their display of precision in the way they used their telekinetic powers, since her youngest age. That's excluding Saralis, of course! *laugh* Boreastre, perhaps, on one of his bad days and on her good, then again she has to respect the old man's resilience so, who knew… he is the only con to ever elude the great Dame Seven in his hayday, so that has to count for something. None of the above; the money is enough, the benefits are great, and the ability to use her powers as she does is compensation enough. Because it's right, that's why, and perhaps also a bit in honor of her grandfather, a war hero who she's always admired. Oh…! Uh, yeah, many. So many. Too many. *laugh* But no, never, actually. Sadly. She never has the time or the space, she guesses, or perhaps she's not been looking well enough. One day, perhaps, in her old age, in one of those quiet suburbs, with a dog and a small garden with flowers… That's a new one, never been asked that before, yeah, uhm, if she had to say, perhaps no sea, not that she doesn't like it, she loves the sea, but forests always seem more beautiful, intriguing, and without any tree how is anyone to breathe? *laugh* No, thank you for inviting me, it was great! Oh, yeah! Uh, stay safe and do good, folks. Until next time. *wink*

Some questions she does not answer or shifts the subject, but all in good sport. The interviewer doesn't seem too annoyed by it, more understanding than anything. They're even genuinely excited when she offers a quick demonstration, squealing when she does her trick with the water. Neither do the executives at the agency, they even congratulate her on its good value. She feels good after that, can't say no to fun. She returns to her usual routine without barely missing a beat, if only slightly more discreetly, satisfied for days and unwilling to engage in too much outgoingness at once. That seems to be her prefered rhythm: appearing sparsely on occasions unrelated to crime fighting yet always with panashe and with good reason. Time passes and finally she knows: her secret is safe. Tucked away behind the thin layers of her mask and her gentle charm. There are a number of reasons why Dantra refuses to unveil too much of herself, be it to her fans, enemies, or even her colleagues. She is young but has enough knowledge of the ways of the world, especially online, to wish to be careful about what she exposes of herself. She enjoys the attention yet wants nothing of it once the mask is down, relishing the quiet moments in her cozy house near the waterfront and the edge of the city. The most important reason, the vital one, is not because of a loved one - she's been alone for as long as she could remember - nor because of her job - the agency pays well enough, and a side gig as a commission photographer allows her to pass the time. No, her deepest, darkest secret is entirely other: she does not trust herself to look quite right, to pass well enough among them. She never has. Not before, nor since her arrival and her… change of style. Her face has always felt too angular, too sharp and harsh, underlying the softness that sugar-coats it. Okay, maybe it is stupid to hide such a thing, what with aliens and wizards and so many kinds of secret and supernatural entities buzzing about. Especially considering she is in fact time-displaced herself. But she's a private person and her doubts never quite leave her, neither with nor without the mask. Especially not without. And that's something she wants to keep to herself as long as possible, if not mostly because it would show the cracks in her heroic persona.

One second she's living her perfectly normal if only slightly different life in the wilderness, and the next she finds herself surrounded by stone and metal and sound.  So much noise. She fled the great fortified city of her birth for that exact reason, the smells and bustling activity making her prefer the quiet of nature. It's scary, so very scary, at first. Frustrating too, new words to assimilate, new people to remember. Many people. Too many. Tastes and colours as vibrant and foreign as they were interesting. It should be more difficult, more off-putting, it should be a lot weirder and far slower to adapt to this new life that she's quite literally thrown into. She knows that. But somehow, either she's better at adapting than she believes, or the strange shrieking and smelly hole she's been dragged through - she later learns it's all that ozone - has been kind enough to gift her with an augmentation in her abilities. She can't say. Assimilating information has always been easy for her, computing it, on the other hand, takes a bit more time, but she manages well enough and that's a start.

No one knows any of that, not the agency, not her colleagues, not even her best friend Zelda knew of it, and if she has any say in the matter, none would ever know.

…

Later on she realizes their first meeting is not their first. It's not even the first time they actually interact, simply exchanging a look as she disappears into her surroundings while the hero goes the other way in hot pursuit of her own target. They cross paths before, at least twice, always en passant and never out in the open, none recognizing the other. How Valerie Vonazzio misses and is missed so thoroughly becomes one of the many subjects of scoffs and giggles, somehow playing the absolute opposite of their actual first interaction.

How it goes from a simple meddling in a high stakes robbery to a double hostage situation with innocent people in the crossfire she would say is entirely the annoyingly boot-straight bulldozer of a newcomer's fault. He's the one who barges into her delicately masterminded play's fault. They simply have to open the safe, take the money - in truth a pile of fake yet highly realistic 'the artist formerly known as Prince' bills she planted there earlier - and attempt a getaway. No violence needed, no casualties, and she can pocket the money for herself. Not that those to whom it belongs would miss it, even if the amount were to be doubled. And everything seems to work perfectly at first, that is until that idiot of a C-list super Faramour and his disgustingly felty suit gets stuck in one of her countermeasures and calls for backup. The channels should be jammed, they are jammed, and yet, somehow, she hears. Dantra enters all guns blazing - not literally though, she bears no weapons. Praised be that fact or things would go downhill much earlier for the great LaValette. She has no guns, none made of metal at least. It does not prevent her from bursting in, plowing half the group against the wall and intimidating the others sufficiently for them to lose their cool. Having taken two hostages, threatening to do some actual damage if 'superblondie' refuses to cooperate. She doesn't, to Valerie's relief, but she's the smarter of the two, after all. By far. Faramour, on the other hand, does not do the smart thing. Barely liberated from his restraints, he takes one of the robbers in return and immediately escalates the situation. How it hasn't gone to shit quicker with that horrid perfume of his, Valerie will never understand. Deadly weapons are pointed in every direction and a single movement might set the whole thing on fire.

That minty, hair-waxed bumblefuck of a super doesn't even try to use his lonely brain cell, it seems, choosing to ignore Dantra's warnings AND the robbers' threats, yelling louder than either for everybody to shut up, get on the ground and put their weapons down. Despite the fun she'd had recording his disheveled meltdown and against all her principles, she intervenes then. Showing herself in broad daylight for the first time in months, perhaps years. Well, as best as one can through a thick field of smoke and behind a specialized retailored special ops suit. While they're all distracted, she takes Faramour out, stunning him into oblivion and then twice more for good measure with simple yet efficient darts of a sleep agent of her own personal concoction. The robbers are easy too: make them think they have a way out and leave the appeal of the money, and the next second they're running. Dantra is another story. She thinks of lacing the smoke with a sleeping agent but doesn't want to hurt innocent bystanders - she has principles, or at least she's tried to grow some - and instead deploys a simple spot-sonic. The small device works as a grenade and is used to stun anybody of above average physique - group which she instantly guesses Dantra is a part of - and gives her an opening of a few seconds to make a getaway. Hers has been ready for hours now, but as she rounds the building and her car she hears the voice behind her, ordering her to stop.

Dantra is coming around the corner too, armed with a surprising two unconscious robbers, one in each hand. Fortunately she's decided to go stealthy this time, wearing unmarked gear and a simple black gas mask. The lack of recognition she gets from the super means that either she does not know her face, which for the agency's poster girl is highly unlikely as the agency must have drilled her on the many cons they were tracking, LaValette still being high priority. Or that she has no way of seeing through her mask, past her eyes, which is lucky as it has definitely not been designed with x-ray vision in mind. She looks at the blonde for a second too long, perhaps, and her mind is made: she has to play this one well.

"Why? You gonna arrest me?"

"As a matter of fact no, but the police will once they get here."

"Ha. Apologies darlin', I have no time to wait for them. Things to do, places to be," she replies, her tone as cocky as possible.

"You have nowhere to go. I'll catch you if you try to run…"

"Maybe. But I don't intend to run," she jiggles the keys in her hands.

She sees the frown form on Dantra's face through the cloth, a cute set of lines creasing around and above her brow. The super lets the robbers fall to the ground and takes a step forward, then another. Good, just a few more seconds.

"I'm fast."

"Strong too, I guess."

That stops her.

"You're too confident."

"Mayhaps. But so are you, I believe."

"I have the means to back my words up, do you?"

If the very slight flex of her hands and her taut muscles is any indication, the hero does indeed, and she's ready to show it at any moment. Perfect.

"I don't doubt that. But see," and she takes a small step to the left, Dantra mirrors it to the right, "my ride is waiting and they don't have a policy of canceling last minute, so I'm afraid I won't be able to take you up on that."

"The choice isn't really offered."

"It is though, and I'm certainly not letting a muscle-brained blondie tell me what to do."

That gets her a frown. Good. Let her stew a bit.

"You're not part of them."

Oh, surprising. Not all brawns, then.

"You noticed."

"I'm more than just muscles."

"I can appreciate that."

And she winks for good measure. The slight abashed surprise which momentarily coats the frown is worth it.

"You'll be happy to know I'm not all ass either, darlin'."

And with the image of a vague incomprehension mixed with outrage, she presses the ignition button. The car beside her roars to life and then everything is gone, swallowed in the bright neon light of the headlights and the piercing shriek of the alarm. That's enough to make Dantra recoil; by the time the super focuses again, she's long gone. Not very far away, but out of reach.

…

The second time they cross paths it's more official and perhaps she isn't as prepared for it as she's like to make them all think. There's a joint operation by the newly formed Hexagon, a trio of wrongdoers comprised of Miss Spell, Shore Thing, and Sasz, who apparently decide to carry out plans as horrid as their individual designation. How people, supers mostly, come up with such ridiculous names for themselves is something she'll never quite understand. It does help motivate her to foil their plan without pulling any punches, however. Which is a good thing, she thinks. They try to steal one of the prototypes in development at Atomic Delaware Industries, some sort of energy cell that could either be sold to competitors or foreign powers for quite a pile of cash, or be used in not so nice ways by someone smart enough. She certainly would find a few uses for it, she has, actually, without trying too much, even. But that's not the plan, it hasn't been for quite a while. They've been on her radar for the last month and, unfortunately for them, a whole month is entirely superfluous if one were to want to rig the whole operation. Which she does.

The traps fly and spring, doors jam, electric circuits fry and, strangely, the alarm resounds the minute they're deep in the vault despite all their attempts at quelling its shrill signal to the whole of the city police force before they break in. The panic but not so much as would other newer and less competent cons. The prototype is loaded in a rush as they manage to evade the first wave of security. It's jostles a bit - quite a bit - as they come out into the night.  Whether it'll still work after that is anyone's guess, although she has an inkling as to the answer. It's but almost entirely confirmed when the crack resounds a few meters in front of them and Dantra appears, making them drop the cart onto the ground and letting the round object roll away. The trio tenses slightly, knowing they have the advantage, but Dantra shows no sign of faltering. The fight that ensues is what makes Valerie act upon her growing frustration: had she let them exit the perimeter they'd have been caught in her electromagnetic web until the police arrived. But of course the hero has to meddle in her affairs. She almost doesn't swarm all four of them with slime ice, a new project she's been working on for a while, trapping anything it touches almost instantaneously (super or not) and with enough efficacy it would work on Dynamos and his high speed vibrating or Saralis and her plane shifting. At least long enough for her to escape. Almost, because as she's about to think better of it, something barely misses the prototype. It's either a hex or an exploding scale, she can't really tell, but she knows that if it hits, they might not be there to argue whodunnit afterwards. To hell with being subtle, she doesn't want to die yet, and there are people in danger of being fried by the foursome's stupidity.

"Oy, nitwits!", she exclaims, stepping out of the dark black sedan she'd taken shop in.

They seem surprised to see her, enough to almost all freeze on the spot. Only Sasz seems not to lose any of his countenance - his cerebral implant must help, she thinks - which is a good thing because they don't immediately notice the small flattened cones that thud in the middle of them.

"What the fu-", she can hear Miss Spell attempt.

"Stop clonking so close to the prototype. Or do you want to raze this whole area to below sea level?!", she adds, seeing Dantra's eyes narrow.

"LaValette," Sasz simply says, still unperturbed. Not that he seems quite anything in the recent months since his upgrade. "How very pleasant." Well at least he's kept his tongue.

Miss Spell opens her mouth again but stays silent, still she can see her violet eyes widen slightly; Shore Thing doesn't react, simply getting ready to fight her too. She sees the flicker of recognition on Dantra's face, however. She wonders for an instant if she should have worn a mask but finds she is almost glad - a small prickle of pride even runs through her spine at the validation of her still very-well known status.

"Stop where you are," she hears the blonde's voice command.

"Oh don't worry, I don't plan on joining in the fight," she smirks, "I'm not made for that."

She lets a beat pass and sees them stew in their uncertainty. No more than a beat, however, or they'll have time to react.

"Plus I don't need to," her smirk widdens as she nods to the ground at their feet.

They look. Sasz and Dantra are the first to react but it's still too late. The cones explode into a storm of white and suddenly all four of them are covered in a thick layer of foamy substance. She has to give props to Dantra for attempting to jump away, but the slime ice hardens too quickly and she's frozen on one foot, her body angled back. They almost instantly begin to slump too, even Shore Thing's weird biology doesn't stop him from feeling the effects of the sedative. It won't take them out, she knows it, but it'll do for a while. She can already hear Miss Spell mumble curses under her breath, it would be cute if it weren't literal curses on top of her insults. She hurries her step, not wanting to overextend her advantage.

"Not that I don't find this fun but I can't trust you people with this," she grabs the prototype, "so I'll be removing your new toy from the playground until you learn how to share properly."

Without further ado she walks back to her car.

"Wait," she hears Dantra's slurred voice.

But she doesn't no matter the slight desire to play with them a bit longer. She knows if she does she'll lose her advantage quickly.

"Sorry darlin', can't stay. Have a nice night!", she smiles as she passes by them before rolling her window up and driving away.

Her exit goes unchallenged, none of the police notice the black vehicule hidden behind the bushes as they quickly drive by a few seconds later. The next day she confirms her slime ice was indeed efficient, more than she had banked on even, as she sees Sasz and Shore Thing still partially trapped in by the time the news channels are on the scene. Apparently Miss Spell managed to phase herself away in the nick of time, escaping right as the authorities arrived, Dantra taking only a few moments longer. She can't help the amused smile at the sight of the fit blonde going away as quickly as she can once the situation has been explained to the police, surely in search of her. The super doesn't succeed of course, as her being in her penthouse at that precise moment indicates. The morning is nice, warm with blue skies. She contemplates letting Dynopolis and its officials sweat it a few days more under the threat of her possessing the prototype, but decides against it. She's a tease, not an actual madwoman. The stolen property is found two days later in Hubway Park, in a glass box with a cute little ribbon on top of it and a card that says "Love, LV" in elegant cursive. And if the city's pockets are slightly lighter after that, well, it's not her secret to tell.

...

They meet again twice before it truly becomes a sort of routine between them. Not that she actively makes it that way. It just seems they can't stop themselves from running into each other. Maybe it's because LaValette's officially made an appearance after all this time, in front of no less than four supers, three of them being cons is of no consequence. Maybe she can't quite stop herself from being on high alert every time she goes on patrol, looking for the lithe dark woman in every corner each time she's called onto a scene or she is made aware of some nefarious happenings. The fact that Dantra is seen a lot more than usual out there does not go by unnoticed and many speculate as to why. The answer is simple: she's been bested thrice and she can't quite let it go. The smirk and the confidently teasing tone of a superior mind still ring in her ears. She's never been one to be very competitive, not seriously so to the point of letting it consume her rather laidback nature. But the villain has a way of getting under her skin. The con times her quips like the beats of a good song, like strums of chords during a guitar solo, settles her silver eyes so steadily that she can't help the shiver of anticipation at the challenge she knows is coming. The first time it's just a fluke, she doesn't realize she's facing the great LaValette herself, not even that she 's in the same realm as her for a while. The second time she gets the message but slightly too late. The result is positive in the end, not satisfactory however. It does have the unintended effect of giving her a purpose. She knows she can't force destiny, doesn't quite believe in it either, but it feels like something the third time they meet. She wants to be there because she knows what's coming. Or at least she knows LaValette will grace them with her presence. She loses her after a frustratingly slow chase amongst corridors and stairs in the tall building where the villain comes to meddle with an intervention the squad puts in place to nip the bud of a growing cult.

The thing doesn't go as well as planned. The cult is too prepared, as if they know what's coming. They manage to get them taken down before any blood is shed, however, which is a good thing. Until she realizes the ease with which it has been done and the glaring disappearance of a number of useless but golden artifacts the cultists had been in the process of using for their sacrifice. She realizes immediately what's afoot, perhaps a bit too quickly if she trusts the bewildered looks she gets from her partners. She spots the suit far too quickly too. She's nothing if not thorough and she's made her research on the older villain turned chaotic vigilante. Her style has changed slightly, moving on from spandex and leather to a more comfortable fabric oriented design. Still black, still badass and cool - she can't help but admire - and still kicking ass without actually doing any of the kicking herself. But as she's about to reach her, LaValette lets her know she's noticed her with a small turn of the head and a wink as she moves to the staircase. The resulting chase happens in a place too constricting for her, which she hates, and amongst a crowd of people who have no business being as productive as they are on a Monday. Still she follows as best as she can, careful not to damage anything. Unfortunately it's not enough and she knows it when the villain slips away one last time, dropping in an elevator shaft this time, and she's unable to follow. Not that she'd fear the fall or hurting herself (her body can withstand much more and quite literally fly, after all) but because she realizes she's been tricked when the shaft turns out to be a screen and she finds herself flailing not to walk off the seventeenth story. How the frustratingly smart woman managed to do that she doesn't know but she knows she's lost her. Despite it all, and while she does a round of the floor just to be sure, she can't help but be impressed. LaValette has never shown any other sign of outstanding abilities than her impressive intellect and for once she's glad it's the case, just imagining that coupled with any supernatural ability almost makes her shiver.

Their fourth meeting is the one in which she feels her work finally begin to pay off. She's been scouring every file, report and analysis she can find, all the footage available for clues as to what counter-measures she could try to put in place against LaValette for weeks. The incident at Magnus Arena makes her both angry, wanting to catch the woman as soon as possible and make her answer for her crimes, but also realize how much the villain has actually shifted her line of conduct since then. She doesn't quite know how others have not measured the impact of her actions since then, both to annoy supers of the program and to mitigate the destructive power of cons. There's no proof, no evidence, but she can read between the lines, feel the depression in the landscape of her crimes, and see the shadow the villain leaves behind her in each misdeed that goes a little bit too smoothly for the heroes or which seems to fail or combust in the air for the cons. How nobody has never noticed that is beyond her. Perhaps the long arms of LaValette extend even within the agency? Or perhaps someone else has been trying to keep the status quo?

It's a bit of a paradox. She gains newfound respect for the woman but at the same time the neverending list of accomplishments - which she seems to silently gloat about every time - makes her blood boil and gives her renewed determination to catch her.

So when she manages to corner her in the back alley of the store as she's about to flee on an unmarked bike, and she sees the brow quirk up in surprise as she halts mid climb, well she can't help herself and smirks.

"Well good evening to you," LaValette says, resuming her action and strapping the large duffel bag containing various pricy items to her bike, pricy items that the organized but not very professional group of masked individuals attempted to rob - are robbing? have robbed? - and will realize are missing from their own possession the next day.

"I would return the greeting but you're coming with me this time, and it will unfortunately not be 'good'," she quips back, hand on her hip.

LaValette has been calmly setting up her gear, putting on a pair of gloves and a scarf, zipping up her jacket, action following which she seemed to notice the quick glance, her smile widening ever so slightly.

"Not that the offer is not tempting, I'd love to stay but-"

"Stuff to do, places to be?", she cuts in.

The villain smiles wider still, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Exactly."

"Well, sorry to burst your bubble but I can't let you do that. You being a criminal and me being a hero, and all."

That earns her a chuckle. There's a pause, the woman makes a grab for her helmet, still showing no sign of a rush or any kind of panic at all. This is what makes Dantra start to question her standing in this exchange. She has a way of getting her nerves to flare. It seems the woman notices, her head shifts slightly to the side. Could she read minds? Or was she just that smart? Dantra realizes she might just be that smart 

"Oh I know. And I can assure you I'm very flattered by your attention, but should you really be leaving those idiots alone?"

She follows the finger, it points at the store and suddenly, as if on cue she hears an explosion and sees bright flames erupt from the roof. The door she'd passed through moments earlier flies off its hinges and crashes against her, denting itself around her shape.

"What the-" she begins when she hears the engine rev.

Suddenly she's jumping to action, she lets her flight boom her through the alley and can feel the fleeing motorcycle revving its gears enter the grasp of her outstretched hand. Yet before she can do anything she hears a bump and her legs are once again cast in that annoying white substance, not only does it harden, it also latches onto the ground and she's faceplanting before she knows it. That much isn't enough to slow her down too much, and she's up the next second, grunting as she breaks through the foam - the countermeasure is one of raw power but it works, so, who's to judge. But as she's about to engage in pursuit again, masked individuals come pouring through the now destroyed exit and for a moment she's stunned. Why weren't they- It's then that she hears the shrill voice she's learned to dislike with every fiber of her body. Freaking Faramour…!

Only later, as they've rounded up the criminals that tried their best to escape and the police are there to take them into custody does she register the memory. It's seemingly jogged by none other than the felty cretin himself.

"Nice work, blondie!", he exclaims with a thumbs up.

Perhaps it's genuine, perhaps it's just playing it up for the cameras, she doesn't know, doesn't care much for it either. She's let her target escape once again. By the time she'd taken care of the robbers, barely a minute, and was soaring in the sky to try to locate the motorcycle, it had vanished once again. The criminals had given her restraints - a good measure of fence wire - a run for its money, already almost escaping by the time she came back down and she'd had to secure them once more. Then she'd taken measure of the whole situation: a blown up store, a bumbling super idiot trying to take over the situation and a disappeared LaValette. Then the police arrive, then the journalists, almost in sync. Then there's the report, which Faramour takes into stride despite his less than useful participation, and nobody seems to have noticed LaValette's presence. She'd been this close, so close… She tries to wallow a bit in her corner but even that is made difficult when Faramour comes all smiles to congratulate her. She had to at least nod and smile, she may be one of the most prominent faces of the agency - and miles more efficient than him - he had anteriority and some form of mind-boggling respect in the city. But his words trigger the flash of memory.

"Nice try, blondie!"

Almost the same words but a much, much different tone. Sultry and smooth, teasing as usual. With a smile and a wave of the hand as she rounded the corner, spoken in a voice loud enough for her to hear. The frustration is so much that she almost lets out a huff before she takes off to do her report at headquarters. It's only when she's done and gone home that she realizes she was close, much closer than usual. Next time. Definitely next time.

And next time comes. Much sooner than she'd expected. Barely a week later, in the middle of the afternoon. This time it's utter chaos. Three events strike at the same time. Havenleaf institute, the prison that houses many cons, is taken by Miss Spell and what can only be described as strawmen goons which she surel animated. Apparently an attempt to break out Shore Thing and Sasz. Nat·Bank is in the middle of a robbery orchestrated by the BronzeBronze cartel. And the head office of the Police is being hacked. The bank and the prison are already taken care of, Grace Solace and Mesmeride are on the case with their respective sidekicks she hears in the coms, and the police should be able to deal with whatever genius has decided to try his hand. She's met the ITeam and they know what they're doing. Still, she can't help but feel something is off. The coincidence is great, almost too great. So she goes anyway.

Everything is hectic. Power is going out repeatedly, the whole electrical infrastructure seems to be under attack. Which is weird, Rajan and Sam explain. They've made sure the whole network was secure and entirely closed off. She knows it is, she's seen Sasz try his hand at it and groaning in frustration. So whatever whoever is here wants, it's not in the database. The chaos feels too orchestrated. Like a danger looming around the corner and forcing you into panic mode but never making an appearance. She knows this feeling and that's what propels her into the stairs, down to the third basement and the writ archives. She struggles in the dark silence for a while, only nearly jumping when she hears clattering towards the deep end. The ever-knowing smile that usually welcomes her is only ever so slightly assured this time, only ever so slightly weaker, and she knows she's struck a chord.

"Wasn't expecting you so soon, darlin'", the voice drawls as the woman has the gal to look away, back to the files she's been searching through.

"Were you even expecting me?"

Her tone is light but it seems to land once again, from the slight tensing of the shoulders.

"Honestly? Not really. I hoped to have at least an hour uninterrupted, but it seems I got unlucky…"

She can't help the small satisfied scoff. She can't help the spark of curiosity either.

"What are you looking for, LaValette?"

The dark woman looks up, surprise passing through her steel eyes.

"Nothing much. Compromising pictures from college, maybe?", she chuckles. "What tipped your off, Dantra?", she returns.

Dantra knows she's curious but fakes disinterest. Somehow she knows. So she plays on it. She also can't help but lose some focus to the way her name rolls out of LaValette's mouth, soft and playful.

"I got lucky I guess. I had a hunch."

"A hunch?", a quirk of the eyebrow.

Now she was looking at her.

"Three at a time is a bit much."

"Ah," a shake of the head. "Maybe so… might have been a bit over enthusiastic on this one."

"You made all this happen?"

She should know better, she's seen the famed LaValette at work more than once, read and watched everything there was about her, but she still feels the wave of surprise at the revelation.

"No, I'm not omnipotent, you know. I may have… pushed the right buttons, however."

The smirk is back.

"Well you're certainly not getting out of this one," she quips back, hands on her hips.

"Are you sure about that?"

And there's that quirk of the eyebrow again. It's assured and confident.

"No."

But she is. And she jumps. As if she was expecting that the dark-haired woman throws the file at her and starts doubling down an alley of files, reaching for something in her bag. Dantra doesn't know what tips the scales in her favour this time. Perhaps she's gotten better with confined spaces, perhaps she's well and truly surprised LaValette, perhaps LaValette fumbles despite (surely) the many plans she has to escape. In any case, she has her pinned against a wall, any tools she might have discarded and her hands trapped within her own barely a minute later, near the emergency exit. They lock eyes and there's a surprised look in the steel discs, something else too, fear maybe? Something etched deeper than she expects, at least. But she doesn't have time to explore that before the other woman sighs and smirks.

"Well, seems it's my loss this time."

And it is. She doesn't resist. Lets herself be taken into custody without as much as an attempt to resist or protest. She takes an espresso when offered and answers each and every question the officers have for her once they begin processing her case. Dantra stays and watches, still unconvinced she's done it. She doesn't know if she believes everything LaValette says, still mulling over what she could have been searching for in the basement of the central police department. They only find a few files pertaining to an old cold case, one of an old woman found dead in her apartment. Nothing special about it, nothing linked to LaValette. Not that they could actually link anything to her. They don't even know who she is, she doesn't register in any database, no history, public or private, no facial recognition pings when they try. She's an anomaly, a dark and mysterious anomaly that keeps on slipping between your fingers even when you've got her. And have her they do. They have her face, her prints, her blood and saliva, hair samples, her voice and her story. Still, much good it does them. They resign themselves to keep her in custody until due process begins again. Dantra is on the go then, ready to leave when they have her secured. The day has been long and the thrill enough to wear her down. She'd been thinned by the last few weeks, her entire focus being on trying to solve the puzzle of the infamous LaValette. And now that it's done she can't quite believe it. They cross paths as the woman is taken to a cell, her usual black suit swapped for a standard grey uniform. It still fits her, she notes. The woman smiles as she notices her.

"Well played, Dantra."

She doesn't know what to do, what to respond to that. The amused twinkle in the woman's eyes another mystery she can't quite solve.

"Until next time?"

It's a question, she registers, as well as a statement. Nobody can keep her in for long, she seems to say, we'll play again soon.

"You're not getting out of this, this time," she manages to reply, throwing in a smile of her own, as confident as she manages.

That owns her a laugh. The sound is throaty and very amused. The wink that follows should unnerve her, so should the unfading smile. It adds fuel to the fire, that's undeniable, though what that fire supplies in turn, she has no idea. She doesn't sleep very well that night, exhaustion and excitement waging an intense battle. Exhaustion wins out in the end and she's rested enough the next morning when she wakes. It takes her the whole of the day to truly recuperate, however. She takes it off, she knows she needs it. Knows that she deserves it a bit too. No one at work is expecting her anyway. Not the bad weather nor Spyro, her cat, defecating on the coffee table manage to bring her mood down, however. The following night is the same as the previous one, a battle of nerves, she manages to go to sleep slightly earlier though. That Sunday morning she is well and truly rested as she wakes up. The weather is nice, Spyro is lounging on the coffee table, no poop in sight, and even the new seem to be good: the robbery has been foiled thanks to Mesmeride, and despite struggling a bit more and not catching Miss Spell, Grace Solace managed to prevent any escapes from the prison. She's coffee in hand, standing on her small terrace, Spyro resting on her shoulders, when she hears her name. It's faint but as she focuses the words become more clear.

"...and this morning, when Officer Wallace came to check on her she was gone. No traces of escape, no footage, nothing. The detectives are hard on the case but admit being somewhat at a loss as to how this was possible."

This definitely piques her interest and she steps inside. There's a still image of the cell with a few words splayed against it in elegant cursive. That's when she understands. Somehow, despite all the security measures in place, LaValette has made good on her words.

Till next time, Darlin', the writing reads.

She knows she should be appalled, she knows she should be stressed, she should be on high alert and perhaps already on route to rectify the situation but she finds herself excited and giddy. A smile plastered on her face when the screen turns black as power is ripped away from it. She's excited because finally, after so long, after so much hard work and dedication, it undeniably feels like she's managed to get her first arch-enemy. Her own personal nemesis.

To be continued.

---

More of what I write, if you’re interested.

[meem-didi]

Journal: Final Reflection

The fashion industry has complex links to many other sectors, including manufacturing, advertising, raw material processing, transport, and retailing. The immense profits to be gained in the retail industry give rise to the desire to engage in unethical practices. When suppliers, distributors, designers, or customers are exploited or treated unfairly, fashion industry executives have an ethical duty to improve the situation.  

Within Fashion Ethics and Culture course, we were given the opportunity to explore the breadth of creative, aesthetic, and social/cultural expression of design through the lens of ethical and historic considerations – as it is and how it needs to change, the role of the MENA region and its relationship to fashion media.  

As a student of DIDI, I felt the same link and inspiration between the Fashion Ethics and Culture course and my vision of how I want to be as a future designer and how I should change the current fashion industry status quo with my future career path. The course creates a creative paradigm for learning ethical fashion design through the lens of ethical and historic considerations. Students are introduced to fashion history, cultural criticism, contemporary culture, and the diversity of representation including ethical considerations and perspectives.

In my opinion, this course plays as a moderator between all other fashion courses we study and extend to other courses with depth like sociology and design histories and theories to link and emphasis all courses material in a dynamic way. We covered various subjects relating to Body Image Problems, Fur Trade Issues, Cultural Hegemony and Appropriation, Consumer Over-consumption, Environmental Effects, and Concerns, Advertisement Conflicts, Brand Name Forgery, Sweat Shop Working Conditions, and Exclusiveness and Injustice Issues; that simultaneously vary from micro to macro scale through lectures, group activities, open discussions in class, and individual presentations.

The True Cost Formula 

Investigate your Wardrobe

Doughnut Economics

ATCAC-Disrupting the Fashion System

Earth Logic: the turning point

Careers in the Fashion Industry

The future of Garment Technology in Circular Fashion

Market Segmentation

Fashion for Good: Virtual Tour

Fashion & Society

Made in America

“Luxury: Behind the mirror of high-end fashion”

Empathic Design Process

SOKO Kenya - A people first company

Innovative Fashion Marketing

Key trends innovating Fashion Marketing

Fashion for Good: Virtual Tour

Untangled Egyptian Beauty Standards

The Fashion & Race database

The Modist- Modest Fashion Dream

About Time: Fashion and Duration

The It Girl: Ashley Al Busmait

I enjoyed the above-listed topics and guest lecture discussions we had this semester, but certain to a whole new way of perceiving the world. I would love to deepen and expand my knowledge on the technology and circularity of the fashion industry future as well as focus on modest fashion and ethical practices and success and failure aspects of the Modist business experience. Whether through merging my learning outcome within this semester to my nest fashion studio or final thesis.

Here's my list of the most meaningful subjects for me and some of the highlights of my recent blogs on these topics:

ATCAC-Disrupting the Fashion System

ORIGIN AND HISTORY

Atacac is a Swedish fashion studio that Jimmy Herdberg and Rickard Lindqvist created in 2016. Atacac is designed to disrupt the current fashion system. Atacac is like a laboratory for developing ideas and principles. Then they work as consultants sharing that with other brands to improve their design. The other way they work with other designers is what they call Share-wear. When they release a new product in their online store, they also offer the 2D pattern and the 3D model of the garment for free download. This builds a community of home sellers and independent brands that use their patterns and designs. In certain terms, you can do whatever you want. There is a Credit Common Licence connected to the Share-wear which means you can use it commercially in any way you like, and you can make improvements to it, But you need to give credit back to Atacac if you use it commercially and market the product. You also need to make your development available for other people to keep developing further.

For me ATCAC is a brilliant business module example that is trying to blow the entire system to the ground, I loved how I saw ATCAC embodying every principle, I have been learning for the past 3 years. This blog post and the investigation behind it gave me hope that I can succeed in doing something different with my future dream brand.

Innovative Fashion Marketing

Stretchy Kids’ Clothes Petit Pli gets a growing identity

A sustainable fashion design example that offers apparel that evolves as the wearer grows older has an innovative branding that sounds like “more human” and “less professional." The idea is to reduce the waste of apparel and save parents’ money as children progress up a range of sizes in the first three years of their lives.

It needs time and education to promote meaningful behavioral change. We assume that we are too late for much of our generation. We assume, though, that we are just in time for the next era of LittleHumans. The brilliance of the brand strategy is in anchoring on the opportunity where new parents and young children are more open to improvement and learning than any other part of our community. They do everything not only to promote constructive behavioral improvement but also to make it as seamless as possible.

Marketing as a term became cliché of how much brands are using it without actually making the right –positive impact on their users, within this blog post example of how marketing approach could be current, supportive and extending the brand value to further stage where the client loyalty will be granted due to that extended value, this reminded me of applying the product-service systems methodology, where it's not only the brand responsibility to produce and market a product but they innovate different approaches to extended their after-sale services and product value to emotionally engage their clients.

Empathic Design Process

Empathy is the core of the entire process of Design Thinking. Putting ourselves in someone else’s shoes reinforces our ability to interpret information, and lets us understand how other humans perceive the world around us.

 The realm of fashion design is shifting from an external focus on the industry, or an internal focus on integrating technology, to an empathetic focus on people. While it’s not too difficult to rally people around this general idea, it can be hard at first to understand how to translate it into tactics.

I ask myself as a designer, how do we make a good connection between a fashion worker and a customer? My solution to this question is to make fashion employees the hero of the story, create brand ideals around them. Plan company modules to be a win-win for staff and stakeholders. As designers, we should reconfigure how the framework is giving back to the societies through which we work. I expect, as a future fashion designer, to build a secure working environment that will help better the lives of single mothers in Egypt. By offering comprehensive educational opportunities and curating future working talents. The Empathy Concept process will be incorporated not only to understand the consumers but also most critically, to understand the true needs of the heroes behind my future brand.

Technology & future of Circular Fashion

Fashion has always been a major hub for innovation — from the invention of the sewing machine to the rise of e-commerce. As technology, fashion is both forward-looking and cyclical. At $2.2 T, the apparel industry is now one of the top sectors in the global economy. Nowadays, apparel technology is rising more than ever. From robots that sew and cut clothing to AI algorithms that anticipate style patterns, to VR mirrors in dressing rooms, technology automates, customizes, and speeds up every aspect of fashion.

In the optimistic scenario, the future will be led by innovators and collaborators, the industry will leap forward in developing digital passports for clothing that carries an internationally recognized digital asset trigger that could be accessed by designers, retailers, recyclers, and customers alike. This type of standardized infrastructure and labeling approach means that not every brand or approach provider has its own patented approaches, leaving customers stuck in the sea of things to consider. In this way, the future of fashion technologies could truly unify the industry around common practices that would make circularity more visible to everyone.

Reference list

Accenture and H&M Foundation (2018). Circular x Fashion Tech. [online] Available at: https://www.accenture.com/_acnmedia/PDF-74/Accenture-GCA-Circular-FashionTech-Trend-Report-2018.pdf [Accessed 3 Oct. 2020].

By Insider Trends (2019). Why does Swedish clothing brand Atacac give its patterns away for free? - Insider Trends. [online] Insider Trends. Available at: https://www.insider-trends.com/why-does-swedish-clothing-brand-atacac-give-its-patterns-away-for-free/ [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

CB Insights (2020). The Future Of Fashion: From Design To Merchandising, How Tech Is Reshaping The Industry. [online] CB Insights Research. Available at: https://www.cbinsights.com/research/fashion-tech-future-trends/ [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

CHANGE, W. (2020). THE WARDROBE CRISIS. [online] THE WARDROBE CRISIS. Available at: https://thewardrobecrisis.com/the-magazine/2020/8/26/4-tech-innovations-that-will-change-the-future-of-sustainable-fashion [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

CLO (2020). Live Q + A with Fashion Studio Atacac. YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHpiD5u0e1w&feature=youtu.be [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

Dawood, S. (2019). Stretchy kids’ clothing Petit Pli gets an identity that grows. [online] Design Week. Available at: https://www.designweek.co.uk/issues/1-7-april-2019/stretchy-kids-clothing-petit-pli-gets-an-identity-that-grows/ [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Design Indaba (2013). Data Dress: A tangible representation of your online movements | Design Indaba. [online] Design Indaba. Available at: https://www.designindaba.com/articles/creative-work/data-dress-tangible-representation-your-online-movements [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

Dezeen (2017). Ryan Mario Yasin’s Petit Pli kids clothing expands to fit as children grow. YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJ8VSvkz_4w [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Dubai Design Week (2019). GGS Success Story: Featuring Petit Pli by Ryan Mario Yasin. YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3a2eIix1rUI [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Dyson on (2019). Petit Pli: The unlikely fashion brand that wants to end industry waste by making clothes that grow. [online] Medium. Available at: https://medium.com/dyson-on/meet-the-inventors-fabric-fantastic-c5f18d7639bf [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Fashion United (2020). The future of garment technology in circular fashion. [online] Fashionunited.uk. Available at: https://fashionunited.uk/news/business/the-future-of-garment-technology-in-circular-fashion/2020091750927 [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

Givens, D. (2020). ASOS Unveils Its Made In Kenya Collection Collaboration With Soko Kenya. [online] Black Enterprise. Available at: https://www.blackenterprise.com/asos-unveils-its-made-in-kenya-collection-collaboration-with-soko-kenya/ [Accessed 27 Oct. 2020].

GLOBAL FASHION AGENDA (2020). Design for Longevity. [online] Designforlongevity.com. Available at: https://designforlongevity.com/page/about [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

Herdberg, J. (2020). Kokokaka - Work. [online] Kokokaka.com. Available at: https://kokokaka.com/work.html [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

Krantz, J. (2017). Atacac uses game tech to disrupt the fashion system - MAGIC FABRIC. [online] MAGIC FABRIC. Available at: https://magicfabricblog.com/atacac-uses-game-technology-change-fashion-system/ [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

LeVine, S. (2018). Automated fashion is now a reality in new Chinese store. [online] Axios. Available at: https://www.axios.com/fashion-automated-alibaba-china-store-d476b4a4-d74d-410e-9518-bea2449203da.html [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

Morrison, H., Petherick, L. and Ley, K. (2019). THE FUTURE OF CIRCULAR FASHION A COLLABORATIVE REPORT BY ACCENTURE STRATEGY AND FASHION FOR GOOD ASSESSING THE VIABILITY OF CIRCULAR BUSINESS MODELS. [online] ACCENTURE STRATEGY AND FASHION FOR GOOD. Available at: https://d2be5ept72nvlo.cloudfront.net/2019/05/The-Future-of-Circular-Fashion-Report.pdf [Accessed 2 Oct. 2020].

NB Studio (2019). Petit Pli - Brand Identity. [online] The Drum Awards. Available at: https://www.thedrumdesignawards.com/drum-design-awards-2019/brand-identity-design/petit-pli-brand-identity [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Partners, K. (2017). PROTOCHIC. [online] PROTOCHIC. Available at: https://www.protochic.com/stories/2017/3/17/kenyan-manufacturer-soko-kenya-partners-with-british-retailer-asos [Accessed 27 Oct. 2020].

Petit Pli (2020a). MISSION 2: FUTURE OF HUMANITY Earth’s Hidden Figures. [online] Available at: http://ryanmarioyasin.com/hosting/BLMcomic.pdf [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Petit Pli (2020b). Petit Pli. [online] Petit Pli. Available at: https://shop.petitpli.com/ [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Petit Pli (2020c). Unstick The Sticky Alien! [online] Petit Pli. Available at: https://shop.petitpli.com/blogs/news/unstick-the-sticky-alien [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Pfaff, M. (2018). Amesterdam University of Applied Sciences. [online] AMFI.nl. Available at: https://amfi.nl/news/technology-is-transforming-the-fashion-industry [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

Sherriff, L. (2020). This Company Is Making Children’s Clothes That Actually Grow As The Kid Does. Forbes. [online] 16 Feb. Available at: https://www.forbes.com/sites/lucysherriff/2020/02/24/this-company-is-making-childrens-clothes-that-actually-grow-as-the-kid-does/?sh=81b30233f70f [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Sohini Dey (2018). Can artificial intelligence and fashion create a smart stitch? [online] mint. Available at: https://www.livemint.com/Leisure/Vp81luEXDz3lWuvvYVYIdO/Can-artificial-intelligence-and-fashion-create-a-smart-stitc.html [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

SOKO Kenya (2020). SOKO Kenya. [online] Soko-kenya.com. Available at: https://www.soko-kenya.com/ [Accessed 27 Oct. 2020].

The Trampery (2019). Petit Pli : Future Design for “LittleHumans” - The Trampery. [online] The Trampery. Available at: https://thetrampery.com/2019/12/02/petit-pli-future-design-for-littlehumans/ [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

‌

[johannepetereric]

Emi, You’re Not A Stalker!

Again, I am using dialogue from the anime. I don’t own CFV. I am using it because I can’t think of any other dialogue to put in its place.

________________________________________________________________

Aichi greeted Emi a yawned “Good morning” from the kitchen table, right after being slapped awake by Kaa-san. 

What? He was up since 5 this morning cooking breakfast! It’s only been a few days; his body has yet to adjust yet! 

Well, at least the blueberry muffins taste good. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t even have a alarm clock.”

Aichi stretched himself back, a longer, more drawn-out yawn escaping like ghosts, tilting the chair slightly. “Emi, I was up since five in the morning baking! What did you think I was doing?” He whispered-yawned. “I went to bed at eight for this.”

Emi looked furious, face colored the pigments of the tomatoes he sliced and diced today.

“That’s right, Emi. Please respect your brother. He is next-in-line to be the Matriarch, after all.” Shizuka Sendou, the current Matriarch, reminded the daughter. As stated in a previous post, Emi was booted out of queue as soon as Aichi declared that he found his mate (future boyfriend!). So now, Emi is the one subject to sleeping in! “And Aichi! Eat your waffles!”

Indeed, three waffles were stacked in the future-matriarch’s plate, two more than on the other two, saturated with syrup and butter and berries--and a dash of whipped cream!

Aichi’s tried eyes awoke as he remembered this. He popped a super-sugary waffle fork into his mouth, salivating at its sweet, sweet, pick-me-up texture and essence of home.  While Aichi was finishing up the muffins earlier, she was making extra waffles for her new apprentice! Although Aichi barely managed to slag through the motions, the produce did turn out as advertised!

“Aichi, hurry up! I don’t have to drive you to school, do I?” Indeed, the Sendou Matriarch has a motorcycle (legally licensed, of course) in the garage (or out back). 

“No, Kaa-san!” He filled himself as much as he could, earning himself a tummyache and vomiting into a trash can near school, but he at least wasn’t late this time!

Right after Aichi left, the girls had about the same talk as in the anime:

“Aichi’s been working hard this morning. He’s been going to bed later and is now rising just as earlier. He only had five hours of sleep last night.” The mother shook her head fondly. “I hope he found something fun after school.” 

This was a lie by omission, one could say. Shizuka does know, but Emi is a troublesome girl to deal with in the affairs of love. The mother could only sigh in contempt. Emi questioned why, but the other said to “let it be. Your brother has enough worry on his shoulders as it is.” And shuffled away to do whatever it is she does. 

Emi pondered this lateness. 

Right on time, she stalked her brother. 

“Hold it right there, Aichi. You’re not going home yet!” A menacing voice shrieked.

“Morikawa, I told you you’re not my type!” Aichi squealed back. The bully looked seriously offended and just threatened him more.

She saw her brother being threatened by the two boys (”Morikawa” and who must be his lackey), talking about plans, and she saw that they weren’t touching the new lunchbag her brother was bringing the past few days. 

I hope that they’re both all right! She thought. She knew it wrong to be worried about the food, but Mom would be sad if they were ruined!

I hope they’re not going to assault him!

The threatening of a beating continued, and she fussed over why in the world he’d play along with them why isn’t he scrambling to safety?!

Card Capital, the place they entered read. Must be their evil lair!

“Stop right there!” she yelled through the automatic door, only to be met with reverberating silence.

A green-hared man in glasses led up to her with, “Eh--how can I help you, young lady?”

“What? Eh? I’m here for my brother?”

“Well-” she was given a whole spiel, a guided tour of the place. She spied Aichi smiling and untouched and seemingly ignoring her, and she finally looked around.

Little kids about her age leaning around little tables; a cashier next to her; a glass case beyond there; cards on display; a bored-looking lady, previously reading a book at the register, staring an icy death into the little girl.

This really is a safe space. But what if it’s just money-laundering?

“Oh, those two are about to start a Cardfight. You want to see?” One most menacing bully and Aichi had locked eyes on the table, seemingly ignoring the girl who dared to believe this a bad place.

Emi nodded. The lunchbox was between Aichi’s feet, seemingly unopened. Looking at the floor, she didn’t see any crumbs. 

What she didn’t know was that Misaki was hiding her half-eaten muffin under the counter, to be slowly devoured over the course of the day XD! 

She watched Aichi ride “Blaster Blade,” the one he’s the reincarnation of. The face, it looked so...so...

A True Leader. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why do I never draw the cards I need?”

“Uh, because Morikawa is stupid?” Aichi offered.

“Aaaaaaah!” Izaki held back the bully--Morikawa--by the collar. The dumb*** was choking.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“bUT i SCORED ANOTHER AWESOME gRADE 3!” (Yaaaas, I’m keeping it like this!)

“You’ll have to discard them eventually...”

“DO YOU NOT BELIEVE YOUR MASTER?!”

Aichi sweatdropped. “Morikawa, this is why you’re not my type.”

Emi snickered at that. Her big brother can be so picky sometimes.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Gallatin attacks Barr!” 

Aichi...you’re so different. Your eyes have no sense of hardening here. You don’t look as afraid as before. Compared to you now, Aichi, he looks so weak. Bark but no bite. 

...

“--I attack Barr for the win!” Aichi has changed so much. Did Kaa-san know about this? 

Yes, it must be...finally playing Vanguard, as he’s so desperately wanted. The drive, the sparkle, the matriarchal glimmer that Kaa-san has chasing a cornered “Karen.” And Psyqualia looks unnecessary. 

“Eh?? Why isn’t the attack going through?”

Aichi sighed in exasperation. She feels it completely. What a mood. He responded in monotone, dead-eyed again, “Blaster Blade initially had 19000 power. I boosted with Wingal, which gives Blaster Blade an 4000 power. I now have to check the drive trigger.”

Critical. 4 damage. Add +1 damage to Blaster Blade, and...

“Aaaaaaaah!” Emi covered her ears for this one, her brother wincing.

“I looooooost!” 

“And look! He took zero damage!” A smug glimmer appeared in her brother’s eyes, a look so often used every week. Someone pointed it out--Aichi was squirming and twitching in anticipation for the moment when he could fold his arm like an egotistical champ again. Forehead furrowed trying to hold back as villainous face. Well,

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, YOU PUNK! I JUST LOST ON PURPOSE!” Aichi sweatdropped, never once losing that smug expression--which juts out more prominently now that he’s taken his opponent down an emotional peg.

His jaw twitched in the desire to smirk.

Emi’s had enough of this bull****.

“Aichi!” 

“Emi?! What are you doing here?!”

“Me?! You’re the one who’s abandoning your duties.”...Oops. 

Aichi stormed over to her cross-eyes, ready to give the middle finger and A Lesson About Respect.

“Now you listen here, young lady!”

“Aichi, stop.” A snappish, stern voice snapped them out of their oncoming tirade--which is bad for public relations.

Aichi veered this particular maniac look at the teen. Misaki-san looked slightly unsettled but glared back with equal virility.

An staring contest ensued, lightning sparking between them, Aichi’s eyes slightly turned downward--of course. It’s a girl. 

“So,” Emi crossed her arms in contempt. “You’ve been coming here to play games.”

Aichi’s eyes narrowed, attention twisted toward the imouto again, back straightened. Time to Defend. “What can you do about it?” He answered in equal condescension.

This killed the mood--if it already wasn’t when Emi caused a reaction from the blunet.

“Yes, Kaa-san knows. We knew you’d freak out. But to pull a stunt like this?” Tsk, tsk, tsk, he clicked as he shook his flowy, clean sea.  “This is beneath even you.”

“You are aware your friends know of your true nature, right?”

“I revealed it to them the day after I met Kai-kun.”

“Merciless.” She agreed, calmer now, for it is factual. The feminine male had grown a cruel side, not totally unlike your stereotypical tsundere or yandere. 

Aichi must’ve been brutal, so worked up like that. She can sense the romantic feels spiraling out of his soul, his heart. The mere moment of affection from one breath was enough to suppress a bit of her killer curiosity--one of many reasons as to why we fight.  

“So is Vanguard fun to play for you?”

“Yes!” He shouted with no hesitation, face now morphed back to when he rode his Avatar. “So much fun! I don’t have to worry about losing!” He pushed out two fingers--Too-dles! It doesn’t matter whether I win or lose. I’m going to have fun, anyway.

Emi smiled.

“Might I play sometime?”

Aichi grunted, maternal smile gleaming naturally. 

Indeed, he’ll be a wonderful mother and waifu. The Perfect Matriarch. 

“Ok. Bye! I expect your lasagna tonight!” Emi headed out towards home.

She could hear clamor about Aichi’s “secret” cooking abilities. Emi is proud of her brother. He has much room to grow, and he has finally opened the floodgates to reaching that level of maturity required to be a mature--emotionally mature--adult. 

Indeed, Emi will love meeting this new, dormant Aichi. 

[clockworkswans]

thoughts on mots:7?? *eyes emoji*

aaaaaaah it feels like SO LONG since we’ve had music, even though we get so much content!  i feel so spoilt lmao.

think i’m gonna skip the tracks from persona, they’re all legends but i’ll end up making this ten pages long otherwise!

under the cut cause it’s looooooong, oops.

interlude shadow - this had some serious challenge coming after its god-tier predecessor, seesaw, ngl, but WOW. yoongi’s solo songs have such a unique style despite being different genres/moods and his lyrics are always what i especially look forward to diving into and shadow was no different! a lot of people say this too but the autotune works SO WELL for him and the way he plays with the rhythms in shadow is amazing. and that last section?? EXPLOSIVE. that’s gonna slay on tour oh my god.

black swan - i wish i’d made notes when it first came out but it took me a while to get used to this sound because it was so interesting and haunting. the topics in this song are so relatable and frightening tbh, it’s something i feel a lot recently, that fear of losing passion for your hobbies and job, etc, and surrendering to the darker emotions of giving up on those dreams (wow, dark, CHILL). after seeing the first performance of it as well!! omg!! some of their absolute BEST choreo yet, easily.

filter - mr. park. JIMIN. I was not prepared for this song and it’s so sexy and smooth and i want to scream thinking about choreo for this on tour, wtf man. this song was my jam right away!! the latin vibes!! rumba/salsa in a club at 2am vibes!! also idk if this is misreading the lyrics but i love the lowkey dark/seductive undertone of making anyone fall in love with you/celeb perception, etc. (probably reading way too much into it lol but still, loved the lyrics). But yes, WOW. Can he let me choreo pls?? i want him to have a CHAIR and a suit and tie and to absolutely destrOY us.

my time - before i go into this, i wanna say how much i loved the vocal line doing completely different stuff and defying all my expectations. the mood of this song is so unique and the slow rhythm with his just…absolutely gorgeous emotive voice makes it so refreshing. Also!! something i found really cool is jungkook doing stuff that’s more complex in emotion and a bit sadder/darker? he’s always had the happy golden perfect boyTM vibe and that’s cute af but also this song lets him be a bit confusing and mature and lost for once. This song hit me quite personally too because the lyrics about time and distance hit close to home as i have friends and loved ones moving out of my life and i just wanna feel not so stuck. I can’t WAIT to see what kind of staging he’ll do for this?? it could be anything lol, i really can’t guess.

louder than bombs - legit EVERYTHING i wanted from a troye/bts collaboration project oh my god. The music and build-up for this song is so bittersweet and haunting, the VOCALS oh my god?? truly stole my breath, wow. the rap line verses had some seriously hard-hitting lyrics too, the lower ranges of namjoon and yoongi made my heart STOP. (something i’ve always loved with bts is the way they play with flow through members taking different parts, which sounds so obvious lol, it’s what you do with a group, but i always love the way bts uses their members’ tones/styles to create a great mix in a song). I feel like this song truly sets up the recurring theme of acknowledging and embracing the good and bad, the wholeness of it is really vulnerable and - pun intended - explosive! it reminds me of the ‘sing louder to drown out the pain’ kind of mindset. sometimes you just gotta sing louder and sadder and ache.

ON - i actually don’t have much to say on this one because it’s just SO BTS and perfect for a title track and will absolutely GO OFF live. also the choreo is hard as hell lmao GOOD LUCK PEOPLE TRYING TO LEARN IT. also i’m gonna say it alongside everyone else but…JUNGKOOK’S HOLY BRIDGE!!!!!!!!!!!

Ugh! - *aroused and scared.* this beat!!!! slaps!!! rapline songs can never fail tbh, also….i think i already love this more than outro: tear and we haven’t even had a performance lol. I don’t have any coherent thoughts to add other than HOLYYY SHIIIIT. This will be so fierce live??? i’m gonna get whiplash headbanging probably. also…can they PLEASE do choreo for that last bit??? please. please.

zero o’clock - lol some songs just make you ugly sob and then you read the lyrics and ABSOLUTELY SOB. this little asshole right here came for my entire heart. it’s pretty spot on for how i feel right now: just get through the day and wait for the next and try and be a bit happier. the bittersweet, hopeful tone is so lovely and really touching. it’s heartbreaking ngl, but in a healing, therapeutic way. it’s so soft and mellow without being too air-y which is pretty hard to get right tbh.

inner child - my favourite vocal line solo!!! i’m always so in love with taehyung’s solo songs tbh, his voice and songs are always my cup of tea, thank you for being a true hopeless romantic sir. this song is SO end-of-indie-movie and i’m completely hooked on it already, i walk to work and keep looping it and it makes me smile and tear up just thinking about hearing it live already. I love how it’s a love letter to his younger self, comforting, sad and so full of heart and acceptance. We all find it hard to look back but to have a song that says it’s okay to be proud of every version of yourself and your growth is AMAZING. i haven’t stopped thinking of the ‘we gonna change’ and i’ll give you my world’ lines. truly magical.

friends - shut up this is the SWEETEST SONG EVER. so my best friend is finally moving away from the hometown we’ve shared for 11 years and i am very vulnerable about it right now, so this coming out when it did?? a bit of an attack lol. but it really made me smile and be SO GRATEFUL to her, and to everyone else in my life and the bonds i have around me. jimin and tae’s friendship is the sweetest thing and to have them release a platonic love song??? to sing on tour together?? after growing up and becoming legends together? wow. talk about bff goals. the adorable details in the lyrics make it so personal and genuine, and the crowd-chanting bits in the chorus are gonna sound awesome live. also not to get sappy and cheesy but this also makes me think of all the friends people have made in this fandom and community and how we’re all enjoying this awesome thing together? love that, man.

moon - THAT’S THE LOML, KIM SEOKJIN, SLAYING AGAIN. awake and epiphany were both so epic and emotional in the traditional ballad genre, so hearing this was just?? SO COOL. it’s so happy and sweet and shows off his high range effortlessly. this has such an addictive melody, i kept humming it at work today and driving myself nuts lmao. it makes me think of summer days and hanging out with friends or on your own in the sun, reading. i also love how he expanded on ‘beauty’ as it’s always a word thrown at him lol, but he made it so innocent and lovely, like idk if he’s fed up of everyone yelling handsome at him and embarrassing him lmao but it was so wholesome of him to then turn around and make a song about appreciating subtle beauty and the bonds between army and bts (god i’m LAME, blame this album).

respect - this song’s such a VIBE. love the founders of bts doing a song together, god, just bros being bros and jamming together?? WE LOVE TO SEE IT. I didn’t realise how much i’d love this duo together but it’s so natural and you can see how much they love writing and working together. the lyrics are so fun and snarky and the throwback old-school bts vibe is PERFECT. it’s that clever thing they do of re-visiting older works and combining it with your present self to make something familiar yet different. so so cool.

we are bulletproof: eternal - omg so the first line of this i started laughing so hard because i was SO SURE it would be a Concert Jam™. then i sobered up pretty quickly and cue the tears and emotions lmao. This song gives me heartbeat/sea/mikrokosmos energy, it falls in that ‘epic emotional singalong’ genre they do beautifully. you bet your ass i’m gonna be bawling at this on the tour. i lost it crying in that last bridge when they say ‘why are you still walking with us’, it just hit me that wow, i’ve been a part of this journey and tbh, it’s gonna stay with me for life. the emotions packed into this song are overwhelming af whilst still being a celebration of the 7 years bts have been together, and the individual achievements too, of them and also armys? idk it feels very collective ‘us’ vibe and it’s beautiful. 

outro: ego - READY, SET AND BEGIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAP OF THE SOUL MAP OF THE AAAAAAAAAAAL THAT’S MY EGOOOOOOOOOO. Oh my god, this song just slays everything tbh. When it came out i could not stop repeating it for the entire week and i’m still so in love with it. By far one of my favourite solos of the album! it’s so colourful, clever and A DANCE BOP. It’s everything about why i bias jhope and his style is freaking awesome. 

okay wow, all done!!!!!

[aurora-daily]

Unraveling the Mystique Behind AURORA

Interview by Casey Eridio for Status Magazine (October 28th, 2019).

Before we spoke with AURORA, we weren’t entirely sure if she’s real. She appears to be this blithesome girl with overgrown braids and war paint around her eyes, which signifies tears and smile wrinkles—an ironic juxtaposition of two seemingly polar emotions. Her music entails a mystical fairy feel; it is as if she came out of a forest and learned to create electronic music. And up to this point, we’re still convinced that’s the case.

Growing up in a small island in Bergen, Norway, Aurora Aksnes was never meant to think like the common folk. When asked about her most vivid childhood memory, the 23-year-old recalls a rainy day in school when her classroom was noisy and she missed her ride home. After the chaos of the day, she plopped down on the couch, still drenched with her raincoat on, and stayed still as today’s dinner was wafting through the air and Leonard Cohen’s “Suzanne” plays in the background. “I just sat in the living room for a little while. I just really relaxed and I realized how much music can give—it was a break from life.”

Now, Aurora believes that music is the closest thing she could get to spirituality, and through this, she manifests a sort of mysticism that is truly fascinating. She believes that apple cores contain wishes and dreams about being a stone at the bottom of the ocean. Her music never gives any sign of the modern era; she sees desire as an animalistic instinct in “Animal”, her inner turmoils as diseases in “Infections of a Different Kind”, and the underdogs as a part of her “Queendom”. Matched with the vivid storytelling and natural elements in an otherwise synthetic production, things are never as they seem in the realms of her brain.

“I just sat in the living room for a little while. I just really relaxed and I realized how much music can give—it was a break from life.”

For someone dreaming with her eyes open, she never appears to be out of touch with reality either. With the folktronica and art-pop fusion she introduced to us in 2012, she had explored almost every crevice of human emotion. “At the beginning of my career, my main goal was to write music so people could cry; music to be a friend for people out there who were struggling with emotions,” she explains. And after the release of her records Infections of a Different Kind – Step 1 and A Different Kind of Human – Step 2, Aurora seems to be going deeper, unfurling the secrets of what it means to be human.

While she puts emotions under a microscope, she also zooms out to see the big picture.  “I realized that [music] can be much more,” she expresses. With her emotional intelligence and realization that she could become the voice for the voiceless, Aurora evolved into a more politically-charged artist, singing about toxic masculinity in “River” and the climate crisis in “The Seed”. This sense of clarity and compassion for people and the world obviously stems from growing up surrounded by nature. “You realize that you’re big compared to the bugs, that you’re so small compared to the trees and the mountains,” she observes. With this perspective, she has carried with her a clear understanding and a deep-rooted appreciation of life in all of its different forms.

Of course, not everyone can live on a peaceful island in Norway and become a philosopher basking in nature, but this is what the artist hopes to impart with the world through her music. In the haze of the nine-to-five life, there’s simply no time to stop and think. But the moment you put your headphones on and listen to the musings and ponderings of Aurora, she brings you back to her couch in Bergen, letting the raindrops soak in and taking a break from the bustles of life through music.

As she cooks up two new albums while on tour, Aurora makes time for us to discuss last night’s dream, skydiving, and the role music and nature plays in her life.

First up, tell us about your musical journey. Do you remember the first song you’ve ever written?

When I was a child, I loved to watch people more than I actually wanted to be with people. I like to see what people around me were going through. I was around nine when I wrote my first song in English, and it was about someone being bullied. It was quite a sad song—that’s all I can remember. After I wrote my first song, I just fell in love with it. It made me feel so good that I could create something that was only mine and that helped to use emotion and turn it into something beautiful. I could never stop after I started

“Everything I do becomes better because I can give more to the world when I am good to myself.”

How did you evolve into the AURORA we know now?

Well, it happened really organically. A lot has changed, of course, in my life. My world is a lot bigger now than it used to be. I have all these friends and fans all over the world and they have really taught me how small the world is but also how big it can be. The biggest change that I have discovered is what music can really do. Music can change people all over the world and help them understand emotions better. It’s a very beautiful thing.

Tell us about your creative process in your music.

It’s very different from time to time. Sometimes I have to run to the closest recorder and record my ideas. If I’m on tour, I have to bring my book and write down some ideas. I also like sitting quietly and watching the world go by. I write everything down in my notebook. I write everything that I see around me. I just can’t stop singing, I can’t stop writing. The world is very inspiring.

When I’m home, I have my piano, but obviously the piano is too big to be with me on my back [laughs]. But when I’m home, I usually just sit and play for hours and just improvise, and when something beautiful comes, I just stick with that. It’s very organic and natural and relaxed, the way I write. I just do it when I feel like it. And when I can’t write anything I just do something else like a painting. I try to keep things very natural and to have no pressure.

Speaking of that, you also do visual art and you painted the cover art of your single “Forgotten Love”, is that something you do often? Does art ever affect your music and writing?

It does! It has happened more and more throughout my career. The visual side of music, I have learned that people’s eyes seem to be more developed than people’s ears. I love painting when I write music at the same time, and I love painting the visuals to my song.

You’ve created your own language in the songs “Forgotten Love” and “A Different Kind of Human”, can you tell us the process of creating these? What is the inspiration behind it?

I care a lot about people [laughs]. I think it’s hard for people to talk about their emotions when they don’t know how to express when something is wrong or why or even understand why we are sad. Sometimes it’s hard to understand why we’re not feeling well about things. I wanted to make simple words to explain complicated emotions. So I just wanted to make a language for people to explain their emotions. It also sounds really nice and poetic.

You’ve mentioned that some of your ideas come up when you dream. What is the best dream you could recall?

I love all the dreams I’ve had. I love it when dreams make me do impossible things, like when I go on an adventure or flying—that’s my favorite dream. I did dream, the other day, that I was a stone at the bottom of the sea and I was just watching everything above me. It felt like the dream lasted for a thousand years. As a stone, I was just watching the world go by, for hundreds and thousands of years. When I woke up, I got inspired and realized how much life comes and goes. It’s really fascinating. I love being inspired by dreams. In Infections of a Different Kind, there’s a song that I wrote, almost in a dream, I just woke up in the middle of the night and let it play in my head.

“I just can’t stop singing, I can’t stop writing. The world is very inspiring.”

How did you know that you were a stone?

I just kind of feel it, and everything around me went so quickly when I was a stone. Time went much quicker for me and everything around it because a stone has such a long life. I think I really dreamed that I was a stone because all the life around me moved so fast—I don’t know I just had a feeling that I was a stone. It was really magical, and it was a good dream.

You lived on a small island in Bergen, Norway. How do you think growing up around nature shaped the way you think?

It shaped a lot. I really needed nature my whole childhood. I’ve grown up and thought of how important nature is and how beautiful it is. Everything you need to live is in nature so you learn to respect nature. I’ve often walked around in the forest when I was a child—I was more outside than inside my whole childhood, and I just think that being surrounded by big trees and the big animals and you will get a perspective over things if you realize that you’re big compared to the bugs, that you’re so small compared to the trees and the mountains. There are just so many beautiful things there, and it’s very humbling. I really love nature and I don’t think I would be the same without it.

You’ve shared with NME a guide on being peaceful and happy. How did you come up with these? What was the journey leading up to this realization?

I think the main reason why people find themselves a bit unhappy or stressed every day is that we forget to be kind to ourselves and others. There’s just this pressure to accomplish so much every day. Sometimes a successful day is just surviving it. We don’t need more sometimes. We don’t always have to have a successful day. As long as you survive it, that’s enough.

The world would have more happy people if we are all ready to help the people around us; It would benefit all of us when all people are more happy. It can be hard. When I can’t do things I want to do, I tell myself “it’s okay.” It’s okay to not be successful all the time, as long as you’re good to yourself. And when I’m good to myself, I can be better for the people around me and I can see my fans and hear their stories. Everything I do becomes better because I can give more to the world when I am good to myself. So all my life I’ve been happier when I’m not busy and I’m good to myself.

You pride yourself in being extremely free. What is one thing you’ve always wanted to try?

I’ve always wanted to jump with a parachute. I really want to know what it’s like to fly. I would love to be a bird—that would be the biggest dream. I would love to jump with a parachute just to experience flying for a few minutes. There are a lot of things I would love to try. I’m very hungry for life, and I’m very hungry to try most things that the world has to offer me. I would like to dance more and paint more. I would like to make a theater piece with music. I would like to make the best live show for people. I would like to focus more on the environment. I don’t know; there are a lot of things I want to try and I want to do. It’s very exciting.

Are you a big fan of musical theater?

Yes, I am! I would like to make a live show with a whole story. I would like to make a live show that is more than just a concert. It’s a big dream of mine to connect the two.

Do you have any plans on coming to the Philippines or anywhere in Asia?

Not this year, but I hope that next year I can be in more countries in Asia. I would love to go to wherever my fans are and this year, I’m going to Hong Kong, China, Tokyo, Seoul, and Singapore. I’m going to a few places but I would love to visit more places in Asia. It’s my biggest wish actually to be more in Asia and to meet my fans from all different countries. It’s a very big dream of mine. I could almost promise that next year, I will come to visit.

Written by Casey Eridio Art by Elbert Uba Photos by Morgan Hill Murphy Courtesy of Universal Music

[theonyxpath]

LESS THAN THREE DAYS LEFT FOR THE V5 CULTS OF THE BLOOD GODS KICKSTARTER!

It is, in fact, doing fantastic, with over 2200 backers so far. The comments section, knock wood, has been overwhelmingly positive and energized – which really encourages our team to pop in and answer questions and chat a bit.

So, come over and check it out and as a backer you can check out the text that we’ve released to backers so far. Which is most of it. If you disagree with those 2200 other backers and dislike it, you can bail out before the KS is over. No harm, no foul.

We want our backers to be into the project, and totally understand when some folks don’t dig it. Not every project appeals to every potential backer. It’s why we set up our KSs this way, now. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/cults-of-the-blood-gods-for-vampire-the-masquerade-5th-ed

Most of last week was spent at Mid Winter Convention in a gathering of almost the entire Monday Meeting crew plus dozens of freelancers. And a wonderful group of friends and fans, too. We started with:

THE SUMMIT

This was a day long – well half a day, it took us 12 hours – meeting where we took a look back at 2019, and then mostly looked at our plans for ongoing projects and how we could evolve our processes.

Then we spent the second half of the day looking at how we wanted Onyx Path to grow throughout 2020. What works for us and so should be nurtured and fed with love and effort and money.

If we felt something was no longer working, we didn’t just trash it, we looked at ways to change it or replace it so that our original goal for it was more likely to be met.

It was loud and long and lively, and ultimately we filled three walls with Post-Its filled with our ideas. We’re already working on some of the changes, with more to come of our efforts all through 2020 (and beyond).

Then it was time for dinner, and normally in Milwaukee we’d go to the traditional German restaurant Maders (a tradition going all the way back to when White Wolf ate there during Gen-Con), but then this happened:

I cry at the door to Maders: temporarily closed for renovation.

So we all ate at a different restaurant, which was perfectly nice, but not steeped in tradition. Sob! Later that night, I joined with our amazing Onyx Pathcast hosts (Dixie, Matthew, and Eddy) for a very silly Pathcast recording that went live last Friday. You can find that on Podbean, or on your favorite podcast venue.

Matthew, Eddy, and Dixie “enjoying” their favorite Mario pastime!

From there on in, we were attending the convention. So:

THE MID WINTER CONVENTION

Here is a run-down with a whole lot of pics taken throughout, as were the earlier ones, by the multi-talented Meredith Gerber.

Eddy’s Developer Bootcamp.

Thursday was set-up for the booth and some professional seminars and panels designed to help freelancers and aspiring creators with tips on such things as running a Kickstarter (Mighty Matt McElroy, Meredith, and I were that panel), to networking, to Eddy’s Developer Bootcamp where he divides attendees into teams, has them come up with a game concept, and walks them through each stage of creation.

My favorite idea was a game where a cyber-pug is created in parts, with each cyber-part containing one bit of what I believe was an exploded pug’s body. I heard about it second-hand, so I might not be grasping the full nuanced concept.

Friday, for us, was important. This was the day of our Onyx Path Q&A Social, which is a small gathering in a boardroom at the hotel, with snacks and drinks. We’ve found that this works better for us than the traditional panel at this convention.

Onyx Path Q&A Social 2020

I explain some minor, inconsequential, point while the gang wait to announce new releases.

Matt reminds us to announce Trinity Continuum: Adventure!, TC: Assassins, They Came From Beyond the Grave!, and The Hedge for CtL2e.

Naeall Raemonn Pricae makes a point – potentially about Scion, Exalted Essence, or Trinity Continuum: Assassins. Or something that applies to all three at once.

Eddy also makes a point – in an elegant and thought-provoking manner.

That was our big group event, but individually everybody still had events they were a part of. In fact, right after the Q&A, Matthew demo’d They Came From Beneath the Sea!. Which I didn’t know about until I heard gales of laughter from the demo area and popped my head in to see what the jocularity was all about.

It turns out the group was menaced by Commie Seaweed!

But with a clever use of improvised Quip and Cinematics cards…

…the day is saved by, well, getting the sinister seaweed stoned!

Besides They Came From Beneath the Sea!, we had other games of ours being demoed throughout the convention, including Eddy playing Pugmire (big surprise, I know), and at least one more panel – which was for V5 Chicago By Night.

Incidentally, mentioning V5 reminds me that not only do we have the Cults KS finishing up, but our friends over at Modiphius still have the pre-order open for Fall of London for Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition! You can do that whole pre-order thing for the physical book over there on their website, and get a link for the PDF right away!

But, besides helping out our fellow V5 content creators with a plug, here are some pics of Eddy playing Pugmire, and then the V5 Chicago By Night creators at their panel:

Eddy demos Pugmire, the very best doggy game in the world!

The V5 Chicago By Night creators no doubt revealing some scary and mysterious bit of lore from the book!

The Chicago panelists and creators: Crystal Mazur, Matthew “The Gentleman Tongue” Dawkins, Mike Tomasek, and Eddy Webb.

And so, to end our little visual tour of our adventures at Mid Winter in Milwaukee, here is a gorgeous picture taken once again by Meredith Gerber, of Matthew and I in a moment of downtime in our habitual haunt, the Monarch Lounge in the hotel:

Lords of the Night, indeed!

Check us out next week, after we’ve fully recovered – we hope! We’ll have lots more talk about our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

V5 Cults of the Blood Gods is in its last few days! Thanks to all of you, the kickstarter has passed $131,000 and 2240 backers, and has trumpeted forward passing through Stretch Goal after Stretch Goal right into the new year!

Next on Kickstarter, we are looking at Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition for Chronicles of Darkness!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast is an in-depth roundtable on the Trinity Continuum with Danielle Lauzon and Ian Watson from the MidWinter Convention in Milwaukee! Check it out direct on Podbean, or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

An abbreviated profile of media this week, as Matthew has only just got back from the States and is a little tired.

We’ve a busy week ahead of us on Twitch with Vampire: The Masquerade, Chronicles of Darkness, Pugmire, Aberrant, Changeling: The Lost, Hunter: The Vigil, Changeling: The Dreaming, Scarred Lands and Blood City’s Chicago by Night!

As ever, tune in to twitch.tv/theonyxpath to watch these shows live and subscribe to the channel!

Our YouTube channel will start boosting its content again this week, with more Scion, Pugmire, Scarred Lands, Aberrant, Vampire and more!

Find our YouTube channel on youtube.com/user/theonyxpath and as with Twitch, click subscribe! An Onyx Path News is coming this week!

Here’s Occultists Anonymous‘ latest fantastic Mage: The Awakening shows:

Episode 72: From The Ashes Before heading to the Yucatan, Atratus visits the soul fragment of a mage in an Atlantean soul stone. The cabal then heads down to Mexico and begins to investigate the ancient pyramid.https://youtu.be/NylE4FsuYfs

Episode 73: This Isn’t Kansas The cabal investigates the portal atop the Pyramid of the Magician, for beyond it lies another world, and perhaps a clue to the grimoire they are searching for. Wyrd has spotted what seems to be a living Mayan civilization beyond the portal, but what really is out there?https://youtu.be/CETbEGEbrUU

The Story Told Podcast have recently interviewed Onyx Path mainstay Vera Vartanian on the subject of Exalted right here: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/episode-44-exalted-dragon-blooded-great-houses-part-1-with-vera-vartanian

Red Moon Roleplaying have posted the final episode of The Sacrifice for V5 Chicago by Night, run by the excellent Klara Herbol, but as well, they’re still posting episodes of V5 Cults of the Blood Gods and Changeling: The Lost! Find their content on YouTube, Spotify, or redmoonroleplaying.com

Drop Matthew a message via the contact button on matthewdawkins.com if you have actual plays, reviews, or game overviews you want us to profile on the blog!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

One more week: DTRPG and its affiliated Community Content sites are running the New Year, New Game sale! A huge number of our PDFs are on sale from all of our game worlds, as well as a Big Scion 2e Bundle with 4 PDFs being offered for $13! https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/299474/NYNG-Scion-2E-BUNDLE

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we will be releasing the PDF and physical book PoD versions of M20 Book of the Fallen on DTRPG!

This book deals with extremely disturbing and mature topics as it examines evil within the World of Darkness, and in Mage: The Ascension, in particular. Please be aware of this before making your order.

Conventions!

More conventions will be listed for 2020 in the weeks to come-

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

Duke Rollo fiction (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

RUST (Working Title) (Scarred Lands)

Under Alien Suns (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mission Statements (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Redlines

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Second Draft

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Development

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

Manuscript Approval

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Post-Approval Development

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Editing

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Mythical Denizens (Creatures of the World Bestiary) (Scion 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Buried Bones: Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Post-Editing Development

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Vigil Watch (Scarred Lands)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Indexing

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle – Last of finals coming in.

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Ex3 Lunars – Art is in.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers – LeBlanc working on finals.

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed – Finals starting to come in this week.

Cults of the Blood God (KS)

Mummy 2

City of the Towered Tombs

Let the Streets Run Red – Art notes and contracts finishing going out this week.

CtL Oak Ash and Thorn – Figuring out art notes.

Scion Mythical Denizens – Need sketches for fulls.

Deviant

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad – Finals all coming in.

Vigil Watch – Need one more artist.

Legendlore (KS) – Starting to gather art needs for KS.

Technocracy Reloaded (KS) – Artwork for KS in progress.

Scion Companion – Working on art notes for that.

TC: Aeon Terra Firma

In Layout

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds

Pirates of Pugmire – With Aileen.

Wraith20 Anthology – First Proof.

Proofing

Dark Eras 2 – Backer PDF going out to backers this week.

Trinity Continuum Aeon Jumpstart

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Backer PDF almost ready to send to backers.

VtR Spilled Blood – 2nd proof with dev.

Chicago Folio – First proof.

At Press

V5: Chicago – Shipping labels for backers being created, should start shipping rewards soon.

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition) – Shipping to fulfillment shippers.

Geist 2e Screen – Being printed.

DR:E – Shipping to fulfillment shippers.

DRE Screen – Being printed.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties

Memento Mori – Awaiting errata for input.

M20 Book of the Fallen – PDF and PoD version go live on Wednesday on DTRPG!

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Almost our entire Monday Meeting crew made it to Milwaukee and back safely, and had a great and productive time at our Summit and the convention. I got stuck for a while in Milwaukee’s airport with a delayed plane, and Ian had a bunch of flights cancelled out from under him, but we’re all home now. Which is, for us, a pretty great trip!

[ariianaz]

‘ i just wanna sing. it’s all i ever cared about. ‘ ♫ 8.29.19

ariana was more nervous about this performance than almost any other ---- except, probably, for when she’d performed with streisand. but, she told herself, that was completely different. perhaps, it was that she’d sort of signed herself up for it on a whim and squished it in between her european tour dates. maybe, it was the fact that she had so many friends and colleagues in the crowd that would ---- more likely than not ---- end up seeing at least a snippet of her performance. there wasn’t any more time to waste, though; she could hear her name being announced, and she made a mental note to find the presenter later and thank them kindly. before she could even finish a full, deep breath, the familiar, syncopated beats to ‘break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored’ filled the space ----- and all of ariana’s worries melted away into an insignificant puddle. music was like that for her; it’d always been a sort of saving grace.

she’d brought along a couple dancers from the sweetener world tour ---- only the ones that volunteered themselves for an extra performance outside of their contract ---- and, as the first song came to a close, she was grateful that she did. the song, when performed live, just wasn’t the same without the choreography the fans had been learning and dancing along with her for months now. she took a deep breath after she took the final step to the first song, hand unoccupied with the mic moving to fan lightly at her face that had already begun to perspire. “radio city, how are we?” she smiled, eyes lingering on familiar faces that she saw in the crowd. it always grounded her, seeing people she knew more intimately and cared deeply about in the audience. “i hope y’all are having fun! it’s an absolute honor to be sharing the stage with so many incredible people tonight --- performers and presenters alike --- and before i keep going, i just want to thank everybody that’s here and everybody that made this happen. and thank you to a special friend of mine for letting me hang out with him on stage for a while. i keep trying to tell him i’m the biggest gambino fan alive; think he’ll believe me yet? really, though, i couldn’t be more grateful to be here. enough of the sap for a minute, though. let’s keep this going!” and ‘god is a woman’ began playing, its softer tones sweeping the stage.

the longer that the brunette got into her set, the more confident she felt. she was no longer so fixated on everyone in attendance and what they might thinking; her attention was on speaking ---- or, in this case, singing ---- her truth and engaging in the therapeutic qualities she often found in performing. morale was high for the next couple songs; ‘needy’ and ‘7 rings’ played seamlessly. it wasn’t until she wanted to slow things down that the aura around ariana got more ... emotional, for lack of a better word. “can we slow it down a little? i’m in tour in europe right now, and i’ve been doing a lot of production-based performances for a minute now. is it cool if i tone things down for a little?” and she started with ‘tattooed heart’ ----- one of her older songs that she’d held closest to her heart for so long. even ‘goodnight n go’ wasn’t too bad ... sure, some tears in the corners of eyes, but nothing that hadn’t happened onstage before. and then... then it was ‘ghostin,’ ariana’s most personal song to date. and she found it harder than ever before to hold it together. there was a reason she didn’t really perform it live, but she felt compelled to. like it’d do something healthy for her, to release some of the guilt from her chest that was chained to relationships past.

she had to talk about it before she sang it, of course. there was no other way. “so, uh...,” and she’s giggling, but it’s not particularly happy. just nervous. “i don’t know how many of you have listened to my latest album. um, it’s called ‘thank u, next.’ anyway ---- like i said, not sure how many are aware, but there’s this song on there ---- toward the end of the album. it’s called ghostin. and i ---- i gotta’ be real with y’all. i didn’t even want to put the track on there; it’s so ... it’s so personal, and i’m not proud of what i did that i came to terms with when i was writing it. but, i ----- i don’t know; it’s been a rough ---- well, it’s been a rough while. and i thought, if y’all could support me in this endeavor, i might sing it today. just like, stick your arms out like we’re in this big air hug or something, ‘cause it’s gonna’ be rough.” and it was. she couldn’t make it through the end of the chorus the first time it appeared without her eyes growing teary and --- by the time she’d reiterated again that she was ‘a girl with a whole lot of baggage,’ the cry was catching in her throat, and there was no doubt that everyone could hear it in her voice. she pulled the mic from her face, took a deep breath, and used a sleeve to swipe quickly over her eyes. push through, push through, push through ----- and that’s what she did. visions of broken hearts and missed connections danced in her head, and she thought by the end of it she might pass out ... but, she didn’t. she just didn’t. and after the last notes of the song fell from the audio equipment, she sunk to her knees and looked into the sea of supportive faces with the utmost expression of love and appreciation. “that was really important to me; thank you all so much.” 

“i only have one more song left,” she called out to a crowd that was still mostly silent, probably still in shock from how raw and honest the prior performance had been. ariana wasn’t surprised in the slightest; she’d even surprised herself. “and i thought i’d bring it back up a notch. i don’t want to end on a tender note, though i gotta’ tell you all again how much you sticking through that with me means to me. seriously, i’ll never forget that. anyway ---- this is ‘bad idea.’ thank you again for having me, radio city. i love you!” / @hollywoodfamerp

[strangewhitegirl321]

Pay No Mind (12th)

{Not my gif}

Words: 4315

Originally posted to my Wattpad account.

   The car bumped and jostled (Y/n) about, causing her to groan and shove the suitcase that stabbed her in the ribs down the seat. Her favourite quilt wrapped around her legs suddenly turned into a tedious task as she began unwinding it from her legs, glancing to her parents' GPS and realising they were almost to their destination.

   The building was humongous, and she had been able to see it for the last thirty minutes as they drove. At first it had simply peaked over the horizon, and was excitedly pointed out by (Y/n)'s mother.

   The building was almost like a child's building blocks made out of a shiny blue glass. The lower level stood on stilts and was larger than the rest, and a giant stairway leading up to the open doors of the hotel seemed to sprout from the bottom of the building. Sleek, white metal bordered the windows that seemed to resemble portals to another world from the outside were clear in view. The second story was also on stilts, held up high above the first and you could spy at least three glass elevators constantly travelling up and down to no end.

   The top level was the tallest, it had a flat roof and stretched high enough to be out of the way for the palm trees growing on the second level's balcony. (Y/n)'s eyes wandered once again down to the second level, taking in the different, private wave pools that somehow never managed to splash over the edge of the building.

  (Y/n) snapped back into reality just as her father pulled into the parking lot, heading straight for the VIP section as he hollered excitedly about practically being a celebrity. Just as they passed through security from the stuffed parking lot into the almost empty section for VIPs she spied a peculiar box out of place next to the modern, expensive building. Before she could clearly observe anything other than its fine wood and lovely blue colour, they turned a corner and parked just out of view.

   Almost immediately, the family was met with three employees who quickly got to work helping unpack and carry luggage up to the hotel. Everything seemed to happen in a blur, and poor (Y/n) barely noticed when her Aunt and Uncle, the owners of the expensive establishment, came to greet them. Hugs and greetings flew through the air, and other customers gawked at the family hugging the rich owners as they passed.

   "So, how are you doing?" Aunt Stella asked after giving a tight (and frankly uncomfortable) hug to (Y/n). The girl shuffled on her feet, frowning as she thought of an answer.

   "Stiff," She finally replied, rolling her neck and cringing as it popped. Aunt Stella let out a loud, obnoxious laugh and grinned.

   "Well, I guess we should get going then," She turned towards her husband, Uncle Louis, who grinned and nodded.

   "We have a big tour to get over with before we can sit down and eat," He explained, taking a bag from (Y/n)'s father and turning around as he marched away. For a moment, (Y/n) thought they would be heading for the large, circular elevators already jam packed with people, but they veered off course and headed for a more private looking corner of the building.

   Deciding not to worry about it until later, (Y/n) took in the inside of the first level. Looking around, it was themed off of a jungle. She was able to glance into different rooms based on the glass walls, and notice that each room looked a little different.

   Upon noticing her curious gaze, Uncle Louis began to explain: "Each level has a different theme: The first is the rainforests of the world; second is the beaches of the Earth; and the third the great forests of big ol' Blue. That's part of the main attraction of our hotel. However, even more interestingly, each hotel room isn't quite a room itself. Instead, we designed it to be more of a house. We frequently get people who come and will stay for months at a time, some people even jump from level to level to experiment. And, each "room" is themed off of a different area of Earth."

   He stopped to point into a room where a family of six seemed to be playing Wii inside a room that was strange in the fact that it had kangaroos hidden in the painted and real brush growing on the walls, "That one is themed off the wild jungles of Papua New Guinea."

   Gesturing to another room, all of them with trees seeming to grow up the sides and different types of waterfalls attached to the walls seemed to glimmer in their own magnificent fashion, "That one is the Ancient Waipoua forest in New Zealand."

   Uncle Louis continued to point out different rooms, naming them in order, "The Amazon. That's the most popular, obviously. Cloud Forest of Peru; the Jungles of Borneo; the Jungles of Kipling in India. All very different, very interesting. Certain rooms, such as the Amazon and Borneo rooms, customers have to sign contracts to stay in because there are living animals in the room. We have caretakers hired, and a customer has to allow a caretaker to enter the room and give the animal its daily needs at least once a day. Children love the toucan, Huracan. He's a real laugh."

   Finally, they continued on to a private elevator for VIPS. (Y/n) about slapped herself. She honestly should have guessed.

   On the way up, they stopped at the second floor. The employees who seemed to trudge along behind the family like shadows were released upon being instructed to continue and drop off the luggage at the required room. They immediately zipped off, not wasting anytime.

   "How do you get them to-" (Y/n)'s father hesitated, waiting till he could figure the correct way to phrase his question. "How do you get such great service from your employees?"

   With a laugh, Aunt Stella was quick to answer, "Oh, well this is a high paying job. And, we try and make it as comfortable a job as possible. Loyal employees are the best employees. You can't expect people to stay devoted to their job if their job is horrible."

   (Y/n) immediately nodded, agreeing with the policy, "Sounds like a good deal to me."

   "Well, I would hope so," Aunt Stella chuckled. She reached up and fixed her hair, before turning around and taking the lead of the group.

   Unfortunately, Uncle Louis hadn't thought to hand off his bag to an employee, and because he tends to talk with his hands he kept quiet and allowed his wife to show off her favourite floor.

   "The beach level!" She exclaimed with joy. "Just breathe it in!"

   (Y/n) cringed as her whole family took a deep breath in through their noses, rolling her eyes at their actions.

   "It smells salty! Like an actual ocean is near!" Her mother beamed. Suddenly, she waltzed away from the group, stopping to admire a flower bed accompanied with a hibiscus tree behind it. Paintings of crabs; sea birds; pirate ships; and mermaids lined the clean and crisp white walls, and against the largest wall stood three aquariums.

   The middle, the largest immediately drew (Y/n) to it. It was large enough to house a little shark, which her uncle pointed out was a bamboo shark dubbed Stitch. There were also millions of other fish, including a small school of blue tangs. (Y/n) didn't need any sort of explanation to know at least one of them was named Dory.

   The other two, were large and round. Jellyfish bounced around the tank, lights changing colour to keep the decoration-vacant tank interesting for those who viewed it. It was beautiful, in (Y/n)'s eyes.

   "Every Wednesday and Saturday, we get a mermaid performer into the large tank," Uncle Louis told (Y/n). He glanced back to his wife, who was excitedly chattering with (Y/n)'s mother about all the different species of tropical flowers in the room. The two women darted around, looking at all the different types. Each time they stumbled upon a new one, an excited squeal left their lips.

   Suddenly realising her father was nowhere to be seen, (Y/n) turned on her heel to search for him. She spotted him talking to an older man who seemed to almost permanently frown. He carried a mop with him, but no bucket or tray to accompany the object.

   "Dad?" (Y/n) asked as she approached the two men. The custodian's eyes caught her attention, they seemed level and firm as they scanned her up and down.

   "This is your daughter, I assume," He stated, offering (Y/n) his hand. She slowly reached forward and shook it hesitantly, glancing at her father. He seemed unconcerned, and continued to carry out his conversation with the man.

   "So, what were you saying about the wave pools?" He inquired, eyes never leaving the water that splashed back and forth in the back of the hotel room he looked into. Once (Y/n)'s eyes landed on them, she could truly see why her father became so curious. The waves seemed so natural, it was unlike anything she had seen.

   "Ah, yes," The man began. "I was saying how they were obviously built by the same company who designed the wave pool located in central California, the Kelly Slater Wave Company. Also obviously, the company was made by Kelly Slater, a world champion surfer. But it was also a collaboration between him and the fluid mechanics specialist Adam Fincham. It's truly impressive. Once it opens, you should at least see it. It won't be beautiful for long-"

   Quickly, (Y/n) cut him off at his strange words, "What? Why? Have you seen it?" His brows raised, and he glanced at her curiously.

   "Yes. And, you humans always have the ability to quickly trash anything beautiful. It's remarkable, really," He stated, earning a scoff from the girl.

   With a roll of her eyes, she muttered, "Yeah, alright. What are you then, a merman?"

   "Oh! No, no, no!" The man replied. "Definitely not a merman."

   Suddenly, he turned away from her to continue watching the pool and he began to explain the mechanics and history, "Based on this year, 2018, wave pools have been around for over fifty years. However, it's easy to calculate how to predictably model a wave a few centimetres tall. All it takes is a few linear equations, and you've got yourself a nice small wave. In the natural oceans, however, the three creating factors are the sun, moon, and Earth itself. The moon is the strongest, however. It exerts about 2.2 times more power than the sun does. The water, being a liquid, is literally pulled up towards the moon. Probably why clothes aren't liquid. That would be a bit horrific. But this-"

   He gestured to the wave at least a metre tall that came crashing down on the artificial sand of the room, "-takes a lot more than that. There are several other factors, from turbulence to oscillations of the entire body of water- which is called seiching. Very interesting topic if you ever want to write a paper to impress your elementary school teacher."

   The man ignored her protest, as well as the chuckle of her father and continued on, "But the first model was gigantic. Seven hundred metres long and one hundred fifty metres wide. So, the fact that they were able to reduce that and make it around 8.75 metres long by 7.5 metres wide is remarkable. They also brilliantly covered the hydrofoil used to actually create the waves, I can't tell where they've hidden it- the left or the right side. I'd be impressed, but I'm mostly suspicious."

   "Suspicious?" (Y/n) tried to stop him to get an answer, but once again he simply continued on.

   "I can however see the gutter off to the right side used to prevent seiching like a damper. It also is what's limiting the bounce-back from the pool walls. So, this makes it seem possible to me that the hydrofoil is on the left side. And then the bottom of the pool- the artificial reefs are what changes the shape of the wave. However, no matter what these waves resemble more of neap tides normally found during quarter moons. Actually, no- they seem more like small tidal waves, don't they? Like a teeny tiny earthquake is occurring beneath the floor." The man suddenly stopped himself, groaning as he reached up and rubbed his brows.

   "Giving yourself a headache there, mate?" (Y/n)'s father asked. The girl however reached forward, patting the man on the shoulder as if to comfort him. At first, he jumped at her touch but calmed once he realised it was a harmless act.

   Just as she was about to speak, the sound of Uncle Louis calling drew both her and her father away, "Hey! Should we get on to your room, now?"

   With a huff, (Y/n) turned to give her uncle a glare before turning back to the man, "I thought it was interesting." She said, before darting off in the direction of her family who were forming a group again.

   The man stared after her curiously, before giving a small nod to the world and turning on his heel, marching down the hall with new passion.

   Upon reaching the third floor, (Y/n)'s face was struck with the fresh scent of the outdoors when walking out the elevator.

   "Wow," She breathed. "It even feels like we're in a real forest." Beneath her feet, she noticed grass and squatted down, picking and playing with it.

   "Ah, the grass is artificial, but the trees standing in the middle of each room and in the hallways are real and living. The rest along the walls and lining the ceiling are fake-ish, however. They were real, were alive. But, you could refer to them as taxidermy trees," Uncle Louis explained. The tall man reached up to brush the leaves hanging from the ceiling, a victorious grin painted on his face.

   "You did a simply spectacular job with this place," His sister, (Y/n)'s mother, complimented. Not-so-humbly, he accepted the praise.

   Small talk began to fill the room, and finding it dull (Y/n) wandered off through the room. She admired the deer painted hiding between the trees, and the circling vultures painted on a sunny day between the tree limbs on the ceiling.

   For a moment, jealousy filled her. She found herself wishing she had invented the hotel, made something so wonderful and creative that everyone wished to see it. With a sigh, she walked around a corner and spotted the balcony. A small running stream swept through it, stones she realised were glued in place lining it. Quickly, she glanced around and took off her shoes before stepping in. The water was cool, but something unnatural caused her to jump out.

   Her feet were dyed a light shade of blue, and they prickled as if they had fallen asleep. Brows furrowed, she reached down to massage them before glancing off to the edge of the "yard." Sighing as she spotted a sign requesting visitors keep out of the water, she quickly slipped her shoes back on.

   Soon after, (Y/n) went to track down her family. She discovered them just as they seated themselves around a feast. The amount of the food on the table caused her feet to falter as she scanned it all. A roasted turkey; lobster; jello; ambrosia salad; sushi; and all sorts of foods set perfectly on the table.

   "There she is!" (Y/n)'s mother cried excitedly. "We were going to begin without you!"

   With a frown, (Y/n) replied, "You definitely can. I'm not hungry."

   "Why not?" Aunt Stella seemed to pounce. Her gaze was suddenly sharp and suspicious, and her expression could only be described as offence. The quick question caused both of (Y/n)'s parents to glance worriedly at the woman, whose eyes were glued to the young girl before her.

   "Relax," (Y/n) began. "I snacked a little too hard on the way here. I'll definitely be hungry enough for breakfast in the morning."

   Slowly, Aunt Stella seemed to physically relax. However, her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head in question.

   "Are you sure?" Her face suddenly burst into a grin, and (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

   "Yes, Aunt Stella," She answered with ease. Then, without a second to waste she began to wander off through the hotel room.

   Just as she was about to turn a corner, she heard her father yell, "(Y/n)! Your room is down the hall, very end on the right!" Hollering that she got what he said, she changed course towards her room.

   Sauntering down the hall, she watched the ceiling as the blue of the painted sky began to shift to hues of orange and pink, purple and then to a midnight blue. A sunset seemed to take place down the course of the hall, and the birds in the trees were replaced with a single owl with piercing eyes.

   For a moment, (Y/n) stopped to try and recognise the species. It took her a moment, but she quickly realised it was just an awkwardly painted barn owl.

   Finally she reached her room and with no hesitation busted in with a sigh. Closing the door behind her, she observed the room. Instead of the blue sky or the sunset in the hallway, the room was painted like the night. Except, it wasn't a regular night with regular stars. Instead a nebula swirling with colour took its place. The picture seemed to reach out and grasp at the air, and the different coloured stars almost twinkled between the fake tree branches as (Y/n) turned her head.

   The bed was a queen, the headboard resting against a glass wall that overlooked the city outside. It was strange to see the fake forestry suddenly open up to the buzzing city below and around the hotel.

   Throwing herself onto the bed, it bounced up and down. Grabbing one of the pillows, (Y/n) dragged it over to herself and shoved her face into it. It was so nice and soft, and just the thought of waking up to grass between her toes and no possibility of bugs joining it excited her.

   "Oh," She gasped as she spotted a strange lamp in a niche to her left. Two large taxidermy trees seemed to frame the opening, and (Y/n) hopped off the bed to get a closer look.

   The lamp looked like the solar system. The sun was smack in the middle, glowing and giving (Y/n) a nice warm feeling. Then the planets were suspended in the air around it, each on the correct placement and orbit.

   Reaching forward, (Y/n) pressed a button that shut off the light of the lamp. Immediately, she switched it back on. A second button caught her attention, and without a second thought she smacked it and hoped the planets around the sun would begin to rotate.

   However, they only seemed to shift before getting caught, and an estranged buzzing filled the room. Disappointed, (Y/n) flicked it off.

   "That sucks," She muttered to herself. "Where's a phone..."

   Planning to call the front desk and ask for a repairman, she turned in a slow circle trying to spot the item needed. Not finding one, she frowned before digging out her own phone.

   (Y/n) spent the rest of the evening trying to avoid asking anyone for help as she attempted to track down the office phone number. She groaned and mumbled curses under her breath as she searched the whole of the hotel room. Not a single phone, or phone number, in sight.

   "(Y/n), dear?" A voice startled her. Jumping and turning around, she stumbled and just barely caught herself as she tripped and nearly fell.

   "Yes?" She inquired, meeting eyes with her Aunt Stella. Once again, the woman was looking suspicious of everything (Y/n) was doing.

   Offering a cursory smile, her Aunt asked, "May I ask what you're doing?"

   With a slight shrug of her shoulders, (Y/n) replied, "I was looking to call the front office. The lamp in my room is broken, I really wanted to see it work."

   Nodding slowly, her Aunt began to herd her back to her room, "It's getting late. I'll call someone in the morning, don't worry-"

   "Are you feeling okay?" (Y/n) suddenly asked, cutting her off.

   With a frustrated groan, Aunt Stella hissed, "Yes! I'm doing great, actually. Now please, just get to bed. Your parents have already retired for the night."

   "It's just-" (Y/n) began to insist. "You keep talking weird. Formal, and the like. I wouldn't even be able to tell you grew up in Texas, at this point."

   Pausing, Aunt Stella took a moment before she rolled her eyes, "Yes, well that is the point. I've been working on it for awhile now. Thank you for noticing."

   Without anything else being said between the two, (Y/n) allowed her to shove her into her room just as Uncle Louis walked out and gave her a cheesy smile.

   "I just dropped off your suitcase, you're all ready to go," He explained. "And, I presume you already discovered the bathroom's location?" (Y/n) nodded, and he clapped his hands together with glee. Then, he wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and lead her down the hall and out of sight.

   Shaking her head, (Y/n) retreated to her room and got ready to go to bed. Sleeping in the bed was comfortable, but something about the hotel seemed to be constantly jolting her mind awake. Every hour she was disappointed to wake up after a magnificent, yet short dream.

   Finally she refused to allow her mind to lull back into a false sense of security. Instead, she stayed wrapped up in her blankets and watched the city below her. The floor was so high up, she couldn't hear any of the obnoxious honks or sirens that usually laboured the city. It appeared so quiet, so peaceful and relaxed without all the noise.

   Checking her phone, (Y/n) groaned as she realised it was only midnight. At least seven hours to go before she could rightfully be up and wandering, lost in her thoughts.

   However, she found herself panicking at the sounds of voices hovering outside her door. She laid herself out in a comfortable sleeping position; buried her head in her pillow; opened her mouth slightly to make it seem even more like she was sleeping; and then shut her eyes and relaxed her whole body.

   Tuning in to the endings of the conversation, she recognised two masculine voices. One of her father, and one she had yet to pinpoint.

   With an angry groan, her father whispered, "Look, dude, it's the middle of the night. She's fast asleep, every hotel we've ever stayed in has always put her in some sort of trance."

   "Then, you'll realise that with my super quiet mechanical skills, and her "hotel-trance," that I won't wake her up," The other voice argued lowly.

   "No! That wasn't my point. Look, if you go in there and wake her up, anything that may or may not happen to your face is definitely your fault," (Y/n)'s father claimed.

   She could practically hear the man on the other side of the door roll his eyes, "Just let me fix the lamp. Seriously, it won't take long."

   A few seconds passed, and shuffling feet could be heard. Then the door slowly peeled open, and (Y/n) heard her father sigh as he glanced in.

   "Well, we haven't woken her yet," He seemed to decide quietly. "Fine. But you do anything to her, I'm right next door."

   "Yes yes, next door. Blah blah," The other man grumbled. His feet shuffled across the floor,  and (Y/n) could hear as he seemed to come right up beside the bed. Rustles and rattles, as well as a few bumps seemed to tell her that he must have picked up the lamp.

   A second sound followed, a weird whirring that seemed to be accompanied by a low, blue, pulsing light that still caused (Y/n) to hold back a flinch.

   She heard her father close the door, and listened to make sure he wasn't still in the room. Then, slowly, (Y/n) peeled open her eyes. Once she was sure the man, who she now recognised as the guy at the wave-pool, was facing away from her, she slowly shifted to where she could see him better.

   (Y/n) watched as he held a strange tool that seemed to be making the funny whirring sound. He held it up to the lamp he balanced on one arm, and moved it up and down both below and over it. She wanted to ask him so many questions towards what he was doing, but instead opted to stay quiet and watch.

   A second later, he put the tool in a pocket and flicked a button after placing it back in the niche it came from. The planets began to rotate calmly around the light. Even the sun changed, it seemed to glow brighter, even shimmer and pulse with warmth.

   A small grin grew on (Y/n)'s face, and she couldn't help it as she muttered, "I've always wanted to see the stars and planets up close."

   The man froze, slowly turning to her. A hint of amusement covered his face, and his eyes seemed to shine.

   "Now, how am I supposed to ignore that?" He squatted down beside the bed, so he was eye level with (Y/n) as she lie in the bed. Getting a good look at her eyes, he nodded in acceptance before standing.

   The man stuck out his hand, and she took it gratefully as he introduced himself, "I'm the Doctor."

   The girl graced him with a smile, and she replied, "And I'm (Y/n). Nice to meet you, Doctor." He never released her hand, but instead yanked her out of bed and dragged her out of the room and over to the balcony. Her eyes widened at the sight of a strange blue box, before the Doctor gave her a slight shove towards it. From there, he opened the door, stepped aside, and let her peak in.

   (Y/n)'s life was never quite the same.