#i like to think that evie had a conversation with one of them at some point and said that to them.

[infiniteimaginings]

Can you do a transmale!reader x Harry Hook/Uma

(if you do multiple characters)

Where reader is chosen with the main four in the first movie (kid of Jack Sparrow) and leaves. He’s part of Uma’s crew. And when he’s chosen in the first movie, he’s pre-T or anything like it.

Then the second movie comes along and reader goes back to the isle with the others to bring back Mal. But he really goes because he wants to see his pirates. Except now he’s been on T for about a year now and had his surgeries. So they don’t recognize him and kidnap him along with Ben.

Anddddd I can’t really think of anything else after that. So…have fun with it! Preferably a happy ending, with lots of fluff and sweetness.

Pre-established Uma/Harry and Reader didn’t come out to them before leaving so as far as Uma/Harry know, Reader is a cis woman. So it’s a surprise when he finally tells him who he really is.

And yeah, that’s all. It’s alright if you don’t write it, I’d understand. Thanks!

Are we supposed to know you? (Uma x TransMale!Reader x Harry Hook)

Summary: You were sent off with the other Vk's to Auradon and when you come back to retrieve Mal, you're changed. You of course go back for Mal, but it's mainly to see the people you left and to tell them you're home. What happens when they don't recognize you and see you as a threat, just like Ben. How will they know you're who you say you are? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her (In mentions from Uma and Harry), He/Him Warnings: None Word Count: 2.7k A/N: (Long A/N) Act like Jefferson doesn't exist, I forgot he existed lol. Also, I won't lie, I started this at one o'clock in the morning, and was contemplating how on earth I make this fluff when they don't recognize him and kidnap him. So, unfortunately I didn't get lots of fluff into it, I apologize, I will write a part two to this little thing just for you with only fluff in it. I hope I did the general idea justice, if I didn't, I apologize. Lots of love! <333 (Even if I explained it, you guys would not understand how frustrated I've been with tumblr and my computer. I'm so sorry for how late this is, I've been upset because I had to delay it. It's here now though.)

When Mal came to you , talking about the Isle, you couldn't help but get excited. Your eyes lit up and your smile got wider at the thought of discussing it. Mal noticed your obvious signs of wanting to continue the conversation so she sat down next to you on the bed, looking out the open curtains where the students of Auradon Prep walked. The blonde girl looked over to you, the tips of her hair their typical purple. She sighed and looked back down, messing with her fingers, “Do you ever feel like…” She paused, unable to express how she felt in words. It would’ve been easier for her if you were the first person she went to, but you weren’t.

She went to Evie, Jay, Carlos, but none of them could understand where she was coming from. It was as if everyone was happy with their new lives, but her.

Mal groaned, putting her head into her hands, unable to speak anymore.

You looked at her curiously, placing a hand on her back and rubbing small circles into it. “You wanted to talk about the island…right?” You asked her, tilting your head to see her expression. She removed her hands and nodded, not looking at you. “Yeah.”

“Is it because…you miss it?”

There was a pause, as if the room itself stilled, as if the world stopped. You moved your hand a bit just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of magic freezing everything. 

Mal sat up straight, swallowing hard, “I don’t miss the island itself.” She confessed, making eye contact with you, “I miss who I was.” She explained, taking a deep breath, “Do you get what I mean?”

You looked at her blankly, tilting your head as you looked down at yourself. 

As you did so, she opened her mouth before closing it immediately. She shook her head and laughed, slapping your arm lightly. “You know what I mean!”

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything!” You chuckled out, putting an arm around her, placing your head on hers. “But…” You began, rubbing her arm softly as she leaned into you, “I do get where you’re coming from.”

Mal looked up, her eyes a bit water, “You do?”

You nodded with a smile, “We went from a life of no no structure, doing whatever we want, enjoying life to…” You blew air out of your mouth, sighing heavily, “Rules, etiquette, expectations.” 

The girl next to you stiffened at the last word before she relaxed, leaning more into your shoulder. “I just miss….” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“You miss the freedom.”

“Yeah, I miss the freedom.”

You nodded, thinking for a moment. Soon enough, you removed your arm from her and turned to her, “Then, get it back.”

“What?”

“Show everyone that you still deserve your freedom.” You explained, moving your hands with your words. “We didn’t stop being villain kids just because we started going to Auradon.” You continued watching as her eyes got bigger, “You don’t have to fit into these boxes people are trying to force us into.” You told her, shaking your head, “If they don’t understand that, then they never really understood you.”

Your words seemed to have gotten to Mal as she stood up quickly, a small smile on her face. “I needed that, thank you.” She told you, inhaling softly as she turned to the door to walk out.

You waved and mumbled a small ‘you’re welcome’ once the door was closed since she gave you no time to. 

You didn’t think much of it, you just assumed she would do something to show people that she was still herself even if she wasn’t ‘evil’, or necessarily ‘good’. 

Well, you didn’t think much of it until the next day when the VK group and Ben bursted into your room. You jumped, shoving a paper under your pillow as you clutch your chest. “Last I checked, knocking wasn’t a foreign concept.”

Evie mumbled a small apology as the rest stood with apologetic but serious faces.

You sat up since the air was so tense, tossing your legs over the bed to stand in front of them, “What’s up?”

“Mal left for the Isle.” Carlos blurted out, blinking rapidly as he looked everywhere but you.

Ben looked down with a guilty face, a frown placed on his lips. “We had a fight…” He mumbled, “She said I didn’t understand how…” He paused, clearing his throat, “She said I didn’t understand her.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open at the realization and of the conversation you had with her.

Jay noticed your expression and knitted his brows together, “What?”

A harsh cough left your throat as you looked away from them, “I might’ve had something to do with that.”

The group simultaneously yelled, “What?!”

Your hands raised in an automatic surrender, “Hey, she came to me talking about the Isle,” You began your explanation, “and I miss my

Evie wasn’t pleased to say the least, she crossed her arms with a raised brow. “We are your people.”

You almost laughed, but given the situation you decided not to. “I miss my people.” You specified, your words reminding the group that all of you weren’t exactly the bestest of friends back on the island.

They couldn’t say anything, they knew you were right. Ben didn’t exactly get the message, and that reminded you all of why you were gathered in the first place.

You agreed to go to the Isle to help Mal.

You agreed, but you weren’t really going to help Mal. She lived there her entire life, you knew she would be fine. She knows her way around the island, she practically ran it. You weren’t going to the Island to help Mal, you were going home.

Once all of you reached the island, you thought you would all spread out to find Mal…that wasn’t the case. You all went in a suspiciously large group to find the daughter of Maleficent, something you thought was stupid.

You thought it was stupid, but you all still found where she was hiding out and Ben went to talk to her.

Evie, Jay, and Carlos all talked to each other as you scanned the area, kicking the ground slightly as time passed by. You were barely on the island and now you all were going to leave. It wasn’t how you wanted things to go, nothing was how you wanted to go.

Ben walked out and before anyone could question him, he walked straight past you guys. Everyone looked at each other and you sighed, “I’ll get him.” You grumbled, jogging after him.

“Ben!” You yelled, trying to catch up to him. “Ben, wait up!” You yelled once again, finally reaching him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What happened? Why are you so upset?”

“She doesn’t want to come with us, all of this was for nothing.” Ben spoke harshly, ripping his beanie off his head and throwing it to the ground.

You sighed, picking the beanie up, dusting it off. “Ben, do me a favor.”

“What!”

“Look around right now.” You told him, gripping the beanie tightly. He looked at you confused but you repeated, “Look around right now.”

Ben regulated his breathing, calming down enough to look around. It was cramped, cluttered, dirty even. It wasn’t properly cared for but the people around seemed to be having a good time nonetheless. 

When he looked back at you, you were looking at the children running around, trying to find a way to pick-pocket Ben. “This is how we grew up Ben…” You mumbled, finally making eye contact with Ben, “You can’t expect Mal, the daughter of the biggest villain who was on this island, to just snap into a princess.” You explained to him, shaking your head.

Ben turned, looking at the area around, “I didn’t realize…” He whispered, eyes flickering to something new the more he looked. 

When the son of Belle and the Beast turned around to face you again, you were nowhere to be found. He turned around quickly, breath picking up the pace as he looked for you, “Where’d you go?” He called out, spinning in a circle until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He let out a sigh of relief, “Come on, that wasn’t fun-” The next thing he knew, everything went black.

Blurry eyes opened, a dry throat let out a cough, and vision restored. Ben looked around for a moment before his gaze fell on you. You were sat with a blank expression, seemingly uninterested in your current situation.

Ben muttered a few incoherent sentences but you cut him off for a moment.

“Getting kidnapped was not on my vacation bucket list.”

Neither of you could even begin a conversation after your words when someone started laughing. The two of you looked up and saw someone had walked in, seemingly amused at your situations. 

“Absolutely hilarious, you’re quite funny.” The male said, looking you over a bit before turning his attention to Ben to do the same thing.

Your brows furrowed as you broke out of whatever ‘trance’ you were in. “Harry?” You asked aloud, adjusting yourself to get a closer look at him.

He pointed his fake hook to you, placing it under his chin. “How do you know my name?”

“How does who know your name?” A voice called from behind the boy, footsteps getting louder as they neared.

Harry tilted his head, “This one.” He spoke, moving his hook from under your chin to step back.

The person that walked in was a girl, she had light blue braids and brown eyes. She stood tall with the hat of a pirate on. 

Your brows furrowed once again, your mind still a little fuzzy from your current situation. “Uma?” You mumbled out, tilting your head.

“You know these people?” Ben suddenly spoke out, trying to get out the rope that tied his hands behind his back.

You looked over at him, a bit unimpressed. “I was raised here, I know everyone here.”

Harry gasped falsely, fake hook over his heart, “You’re a VK?” He asked, not expecting you to answer, since he didn't believe you.

You nodded, forgetting that you look different so they don’t recognize you. “Uh, yeah.” You spoke as if it were obvious, “Born and raised.” You spoke, trying to jog their memory. “Uma, I was in your shop every single da-”

“Oh, and are we supposed to know you because of that?” She asked with a straight face, squatting down to bore her eyes into yours.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before opening them again, “If you said you didn’t, I’d be questioning our friendship.”

Your captors both laughed, looking at each other, “Friendship?”

Ben decided to give up, still listening to the conversation. So much was running through his mind, he was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation until…he realized something. You knew these people, you guys were friends, they just didn’t recognize you. If Ben reminded them, maybe they would let you guys go.

He thought it over before blurting out, “He’s the child of Jack Sparrow, so yes he is a villain kid.” 

Everyone went silent, their laughs were quiet, and your breathing stopped at Bens sudden exclamation.

You looked over and Ben looked you up and down, and that is when you realized…they don’t know who you are. You had changed so much in the past year, even your voice was different. How did you just expect them to recognize you?

When you looked back at the two pirates, they were staring you down. If looks could kill, you would be six feet under.

Uma squatted down in front of you, glaring harshly, “Don’t you ever disrespect her like that ever again.” She whispered to you seriously, her head whipping to Ben, “Don’t you ever mention her in front of me, again.”

Harry took a few deep breaths, “She would’ve been fine here, and you took her.” He told Ben, poking his chest with his hook. “If you ever try to lie to us, I will gut you like a fish.”

Uma nodded to the statement, “You think we wouldn’t know her family?” She asked you, tilting her head. “Jack Sparrow had one child, a daughter, and she’s never coming back.” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek, “For you, a preppy, to just try to claim her father as your own for some sense of freedom…it’s disgusting.”

The blue haired girl stood slowly, keeping her eyes on you. You finally released the breath you were holding, when she removed herself from your space.

You blinked back a few tears as they turned to walk out the door. Harry gently took Umas hand, whispering some things that you couldn't hear.

They were so good together, they still defended your name even if they thought you weren't there. You didn't expect your chest to hurt so badly when they protected you, even if they believed you were gone for good.

“I would’ve joined your crew even if I lost that race.” You mumbled, looking at their backs with sad eyes.

The two paused before turning to you, “Excuse me?” Uma asked, standing in place.

“The race..” You trailed off, “If you won I would join your crew, if I won you would have to spend a week proving to me how much you wanted me to join and then I’d give you my answer.” You continued, nodding with your own words. You didn't notice how they continued to walk towards you. You continued on, “Unfortunately, I was dragged to Auradon before I could answer you, so I’m doing it now.” You told them, looking up to see both of them analyzing you with parted lips, “I was going to join your crew anyways.”

Umas eyes were focusing on each of your features before she cupped your face, looking at you more intensely.

Harry looked up, making eye contact with you, “You have her eyes…” He muttered, taking off his hook to trace your cheeks.

You swallowed harshly before breathing out a chuckle, your cheeks warming a bit. “I would hope so, I was born with my eyes, guys.”

Uma shook her head, “But she’s… you’re not…”

“A girl…I know.” You whispered out, looking down, or trying to. Harry picked your head back up swiftly.

His eyes were watering slightly, “You’re telling the truth aren’t you?”

You nodded as best as you could with his hands on your cheeks. “I know I don’t look the same…”

He shook his head, “But you’re still you…” 

Uma quickly untied the rope keeping you tied up, trying her best to go quickly. She had ordered her crew to tie your guys up from your arms to your legs, and now she was regretting it. Harry noticed her struggle and began to help untie you, muttering curses when he got to harder knots.

Once you were untied, you rubbed at your wrists, looking down for a moment at the burn. 

You looked up, finally, and were met with Harry and Uma on their knees, staring at you. Their eyes were teary, their chests were rising and falling deeper than ever, neither could speak.

You felt your own eyes begin to water as you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around the both of them.

Harry's arm immediately went around you, he began to cry into your shoulder, holding you tightly. “We thought we’d never see you again.” 

Uma, on the other hand, was hesitant. She slowly wrapped her arm around you. When she did, she felt a rush of familiar comfort, a heat rushing through her chest, something she only felt with Harry and…you. She bit her tongue so as to not cry as she buried her nose into your other shoulder, “We would’ve found a way to you anyways.”

The warmth of the two enveloped you as you finally got to be near them again, as you finally got to feel their comforting arms again. “I have no doubt in my mind that you would’ve found me again.” You whispered to them, trying to hold them tighter.

Harry rambled on about never leaving them again, Uma ran her fingers down your back, both of them weren't letting you go anytime soon.

Uma sniffled a bit, "We missed you so much."

"I missed you guys too, more than you'll ever know."

You were finally with your people again. Now, you didn’t have to stare at a picture of the three of you, wishing they were in your arms.

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate - (4)

First Case of Alpha Space

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 4 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 4,731

Work count for Story: 17,363

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I have had to take time off work to accommodate many MANY doctor appointments. I started a Ko-fi if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, Alpha Space, and Cultural differences.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Is it really that big of a deal that you got hurt? My god, you were 35 already. You have never lived a sheltered life. You have had your fair share of broken bones, twisted ankles, scrapes, and bruises. 

You are always going on adventures, riding horses, and climbing things you probably should not be climbing. Most of the external scars you bear are associated with stories that are good conversation starters when you feel like showing them. 

Things would be difficult for a while because you are undeniably right-handed. You have a few days of sick time saved up that you can use to start with. Hopefully, this will help you gain some compliance from your wayward left hand. 

Work, however, is going to be the hard part. Luckily, your work is typically done on electronics, meaning nothing has to be handwritten. Even if you tried to write left-handed, no one could read it. You would bet money doctors had better handwriting skills than your left hand did in its pinky. Dictation software to save the day!

Hearing Derek’s voice broke you out of your thoughts regarding your near future. Watching him act cautiously while interacting with the other hybrid was interesting. There is clearly a difference in how he acts with Yoongi than with Evie.

Giggling to yourself at the mention of being a mate with Derek gains the attention of both. Shaking your head, you explain, “Oh, sorry. The thought of being a mate, much less to Derek, was amusing, I guess.” 

You missed the slight frown that briefly graced both men’s faces. Derek thought you were implying he wasn’t mate-material, and Yoongi thought you believed you were not worthy of being a mate.

“Thanks, Y/n. I let you know that I am a catch despite being a Beta. Besides, this isn’t about me right now. We need to get the leadership involved with what to do moving forward. Are you okay if we bring in the others?”

“Yes, please. I need to speak with Director Johnson, fill out an incident report… um or dictate an incident report, and then get to a doctor,” you agree. Attempting to stand up, you are blocked by the golden-yellow eyes that have not stopped watching your every move.

“Mr. Min, I need to get some things done and take care of my wrist,” you say with a hint of confusion because you know he knows that you need medical attention, but he isn’t letting you.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow, and a soft growl pours through the room, causing your eyes to widen. You look over your shoulder at Derek with a ‘what-the-F-did-I-do’ expression, only to be met with a smirk.

“Y/n, I don’t think you understand what is going on. You haven’t dealt with a situation like this before. You may love hybrids, but you still have limited interactions with our culture and this dynamic.” Walking backward toward the door, Derek continues, “With the state of mind that Mr. Min is in, it might be best if a packmate of his explains.”

Derek opens the break room door to face Hoseok, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook, all staring. “Oh, Hi there.”

Then, as if someone had turned the mute off, they all started talking simultaneously. 

“Is Yoongi-hyung dropped yet?”

“그 사람 괜찮아요?”

“Why does she still smell hurt?”

“Wait, wait, wait, please,” Derek puts his hands up, motioning to stop. "I do not know Korean, for one, and for two, Mr. Min has gone into full nonverbal Alpha Space, and I am not sure he will be coming out of it anytime soon. However, one of you should go in to handle the situation, and Y/n needs to talk with Director Johnson.”

At the mention of the director, a low growl came from Taehyung, causing Derek to take a step back and lower his eyes in an automatic response to a displeased Alpha.

The scent of calming leather gently flows over the group at the door as Namjoon steps forward. His mind is still reeling a million miles a second with you being their mate and you being injured. To top it off, Yoongi is on a deep level of Alpha Space.

“Sorry about that. I can come in, but the director is busy at the moment. He is dealing with the Playmates, your corporate office, and Manager Sejin,” apologizes Namjoon as he enters the room.

He follows Derek to where his packmate and Y/n are situated at a table. Taehyung and Jungkook follow quickly, sneaking in before the door closes all the way. They both kneel respectfully behind Yoongi. Their Alphas recognize that Yoongi is currently in charge of you, and it would be unwise to display anything that could be considered a threat by approaching you too quickly.

They both need to be close to you, and their instincts to be with their newly discovered but injured mate drive their actions. Looking you over for injuries, their eyes resting on your wrist with furrowed brows and set jaws. Taehyung’s eyes change to crystal blue as his tail flickers almost in time with Yoongi’s as he slips into Alpha Space. 

“Namjoon-hyung, Miss Y/n is hurt. She needs a hospital, I think,” Jungkook says, his ears standing straight up on his head, one-pointedly focused on you and the other twitching between his Prime Alpha and the door. 

“It is not that big of an issue, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, and Mr. Kim.” Looking up from the trio in front of you and addressing the Prime Alpha, “Sir, I have specific protocols to follow due to company procedure. I must talk with the Director.” 

A growl from one of the men in front of you freezes your words, unsure of what you did to cause their reactions. Internally, you groan because it seems all you get from them are growls as if you vex them more than humanly possible. 

“Miss Y/n, we have already talked to Director Johnson,” Namjoon says with a look of distaste. 

“He has been informed that you are now under the care of Bangtan Pack following hybrid customs,” Namjoon says. "It would be wise to refrain from talking about him at the moment; he did not leave a good impression with the pack.”

Your brows scrunch in confusion, making the hybrids want to coo at your cute face. Clearing his throat (aka his mind), Namjoon continues, “We have more pressing matters to attend to besides paperwork.” 

“You are injured, and we have to get you to a doctor. Manager Sejin is currently contacting one of our personal physicians that we normally use while on tour to have you treated.”

“What? Why would I use your doctor? I can just go to the local clinic,” you quick question. Your scent spikes almost like a heavy perfume with anxiety with the flashbacks of your nightmare. 

“Please, I have taken up much of your time, and caused enough problems as it is. I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bother,” you plead.

At your words, you are surrounded by multiple growls and watched by now golden-yellow, crystal blue, and smokey gray eyes. Scooting back in the chair as if the quarter inch gained would save you, you nervously ask, “Derek, what did I do?”

“Y/n, you really don’t get it do you? For as smart as you are, sometimes you can be oblivious,” Derek scoffs teasingly. Smiling, he shakes his head, stepping back from the group and heading towards the door. “Mr. Kim, as Prime Alpha, you might want to explain what is happening and what she should be expecting. Mind you, she has been fiercely independent for the last 15 years of her life.”

“I wish you the best with her. It won’t be easy, trust me, I know. Good luck,” says Derek as he bows slightly to Namjoon once he reaches the break room door.

Looking at you again, this time with a smile filled with adoration for his best friend and what he thinks your future may hold, Derek says, “Relax and have fun.” Then he turns and leaves the room. 

As Derek leaves the room, he smiles at the remaining pack guarding the door. “Mr. Kim, Mr. Jung, and Mr. Park, I think your human does not understand what is happening.”

“Our human? So, you know?” Seokjin questions with wide, cautious eyes.

Derek looks over his shoulder at the closed break room door. His mind conjures up all the ways this could go sideways, but he focuses on all the ways this could be the best thing for you.

“At first, I thought it was just a typical Alpha reaction with him being the cause of Y/n getting injured, but his care and gentleness seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Add on the fact that your other two are fighting Alpha Space. It would be hard to miss,” says the fox hybrid with a softness.

“The other two?” someone asks.

Shaking his head, Derek looks back at the remaining three, saying, “Yes, the younger Mr. Kim and Mr. Jeon’s Alphas surfaced just before I left. Your Prime Alpha is going to try to sort things out, but he may need some back up.”

“Meanwhile, I am going to find our boss and see what needs to be done before you all run away with her,” comments Derek, leaving the pack to mull over the new information.

“Tae has never been one to control his Alpha well when one of us is hurt. I am not surprised if he slipped once near her. Kook always runs on instinct too, so it makes sense he slipped as well,” Seokjin contemplates. 

“Should we stay out here? Miss Y/n’s pack member said it would be better to go in and help Namjoon? Three of us in Alpha space with an injured mate is not going to be easy,” Hoseok adds. 

Nibbling on his lower lip, Jimin thinks of ways to handle the situation. Even though he is one of the younger packmates, keeping the pack calm is his gift. 

He just doesn’t know how to handle you yet, especially since you don’t know what you mean to the pack.

“Good, at least three of you are here, and I assume the rest have made their way into the room with Miss Y/n,” Manager Sejin says while walking up to the group. “I have spoken with Big Hit, the Director at Playmate Service Incorporated, and Dr. Blackwell. Everyone is onboard and the doctor is ready to go.”

“Relax and have fun? What does he mean by that?” You mumble as you glare at the now-closed door that one of your best friends just shut. 

He willingly left you with four Alpha male idols. 

Three of them are kneeling on the floor with non-human eyes, and the Prime Alpha, looking around the room like the way to explain what's happening is painted on the walls.

Taking a breath, you say, “Mr. Kim, Prime Alpha… Sir. Derek is right. I have no actual experience with Alphas. I can tell that there must be some kind of instinctual drive going on, and there are trigger words or actions.”

“I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have. What do I do to make it easier for your pack?” you question.

At your words, the kneeling Alphas gave a multitude of pleasant chirps because you may not consciously know what to do but you are still acting like a baby mate. You looked at the three of them, a little confused. They seemingly smiled and made almost the same sound as when you said that.

Okay, so they can growl and chirp. Your curiosity spikes when you think of what other animal-like sounds they can make as hybrids.

Drawing your attention back to him, Namjoon finds the words to explain what is happening, “Miss Y/n, you have done so much to help the Bangtan Pack feel welcome today.”

With a gentle smile, he continues, “So please relax, you have not caused any trouble, and we highly doubt that you will.” 

He thought, ‘At least, not in the way you seem to be thinking.’

“Alpha’s run with a higher level of instinct than your Beta pack member. As an Alpha, Yoongi-hyung instinctually feels responsible for your injury. In order to calm that instinct, a few things will most likely need to happen.” Watching you sit up with interest, he continues, “First things first, he and his Alpha need to get at least your injury treated.”

“He has to be the one to take me to get it treated?” You start to ramble with concern, “I can’t have him go with me to the clinic! There are fans and sasaengs and the media! What about your schedule? You always hear about the tight schedules Idols have and you have already spent all afternoon here over this.”

You start panicking about the hordes of people you hear about following the band around. God, the amount of bad publicity would come from catching you and THE Suga of BTS at a clinic. You can’t imagine what nonsense they would come up with?

Your scent goes into an even heavier version; it takes on an almost alcoholic aspect. The kneeling Alphas instinctually send out calming pheromones while moving closer. 

Yoongi’s tail, still wrapped around your ankle, tightens while he gently rubs the back of your injured hand, which he is cradling protectively. He wiggles forward an inch or two to ensure you realize he is still there and isn’t going anywhere.

Taehyung starts to purr softly but loud enough for you to at least hear it. His mates have always found ease in their emotions and pain with his purring, so he hopes the sound will comfort you similarly.

Jungkook, running on instinct alone, scoots up to your left side, nudges his head under your left hand, and rests on your leg. Touch and cuddling are strong hybrid traits that naturally bring peace to most, and being a bunny hybrid, Jungkook loves to share his cuddles more than the others.

The feeling of Jungkook’s head on your leg snaps you out of your thoughts and brings you back into the room. You hold still as you start to recognize similar comforting behaviors the Alphas are doing with those that Evie always does, allowing you to take a deep breath.

“Sorry. I was raised to take care of myself and not impose on others,” you softly say.

“Miss Y/n, you are not imposing. Again, Yoongi-hyung ran into you while rushing out of the room, and it's his responsibility to make amends. Actually, as a bonded pack, it is our responsibility, too,” explains Namjoon.

“The pack? Like all of you? Is this why they are all like this, with their eyes and stuff?” you question with a scrunched face.

Absent-mindedly, you run your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, softly scratching his scalp, soothing not only yourself but also the youngest Alpha. 

A soft chuckle escapes Namjoon as he watches your instinctual interactions with the youngest mate. He answers, “Yes, that is the best way to explain the eyes and stuff, as you put it.”

“Jungkook-ah and Taehyung-ah will find it easier to leave their Alpha Space since they are not the ones responsible for the injury but trying to be supportive to both of you,” informs the Prime Alpha as you nod in understanding, which he thinks is you not really understanding but just going along with it.

Hearing a knock on the door, he calls, “Who is it?”

“Namjoon-ssi, it's Manager Sejin. I have some updates and a few questions. Can I enter?” a voice calls as the door opens slightly to reveal it’s him. 

At Namjoon's nod, he enters. The door remains open as the scents in the room are constricting in their density. He is followed by the rest of the pack, who take up guarding now from inside. With the mixed emotions in the scent-filled room, the Alphas worry that it will reach other hybrids who will come to investigate.

“Did you contact everyone?” asks Namjoon.

“Big Hit and the Corporate Director are on the same page and will follow the hybrid protocol, but details must be discussed once Miss Y/n has met with the doctor,” Manager Sejin reports to the Prime Alpha.

Moving to look at you, he continues, “I contacted Dr. Blackwell, thinking you may be more comfortable with a female doctor. We have her on retainer to work with some of the female back up dancers on the tour as well as the pack.” 

He glances at the boys surrounding you closely, noting the change in their eyes; his scent changes with curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, looking at Namjoon. With a subtle nod, he confirms that something more is happening but does not move to explain.

Looking back at you, he gently smiles, “With the situation at hand, it may be best to limit other males around you until everyone is out of Alpha space. They tend to get territorial. Dr. Blackwell is on standby, ready to assess and treat you once we know where you will be.”

You look at the manager like he is missing something, or maybe you are as you question, “Why wouldn’t she just come here, or I go to her?”

“Miss Y/n, Dr. Blackwell is a traveling physician. She doesn’t have a permanent office to use but she is well respected in both the human and hybrid communities.”

“Oh, I see. Well, umm…” you look at Namjoon and ask, “What option would be best for your pack?”

Namjoon’s chest puffs slightly at your show of respect to him as the Pack Prime Alpha despite the situation and your pain level. “Not to make you uncomfortable, Miss Y/n, but I think meeting Dr. Blackwell at our Airbnb would be best,” he answers.

You take a moment to think, your hand pulsing with pain now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off. They cannot all fit in your flat. Heck, it's barely big enough for you, Evie, and Derek to hang out in; plus, it's a mess after you tore through your closet to find the right clothes for today.

If the growls were any indication, they didn’t seem to like being at PMS. Instinctually, even Derek and Evie prefer being in their dens when one of the three of you is hurt or sick. Making your decision, you look at the manager and then Namjoon. “Okay. If it is best for the pack, I will go with you to the Airbnb to see Dr. Blackwell.” 

It’s almost as if a weight is lifted out of the room, allowing the pack to take a breath. 

“Alphas Yoon, Kook, and Tae. Can you give Miss Y/n some room? We have to take her to the pack house to see a doctor,” Namjoon says with a firm voice, gaining smiles from the men kneeling on the floor. 

Jungkook stands, quickly moving and curling into the Prime Alpha, his eyes returning to their natural color. Namjoon rubs his back, scenting him lightly to show his pride in the youngest Alpha’s actions to help soothe the baby mate.

Taehyung rocks back on his heels but remains close to you as his purring stops. His body is more relaxed, but his eyes are still crystal blue, shifting between Yoongi and you in wait.

After watching the two younger Alphas move around, your attention turns to the black jaguar kneeling with expectant, questioning eyes. He still cradles your hand as if it were his most precious possession, and his tail hasn’t moved from its coil around your ankle.

You tentatively ask, “Mr. Min, if I promise that you can stay with me, will you let me go get my things, and then you can take me to your pack house?”

Yoongi’s face lights up with a gummy smile as he nods. Your breath hitches at the sight. How can the devastatingly rogue-like handsome rapper look so adorable?

He stands up, his tail unwrapping from your leg. He softly takes both of your hands while he assists you in standing. You smile and mumble a small thanks as you step forward to leave but pause, turning to Namjoon.

“Prime Alpha, do you think I can talk with Derek briefly to let him know what is happening? This way, he can talk to the direc… Boss. Talk to the boss and let him know that I am leaving for the day?” you ask, but your voice is firm as if you were telling the Prime Alpha what needs to happen without blatantly taking control of the situation.

“Yes, talking to him will be fine. He has been established as part of your familial pack and won’t be considered a threat to the pack if he comes around you now,” Namjoon answers, moving out of your way and motioning for the rest to let you pass.

Bowing slightly, “Thank you, Prime Alpha.”

Making it to your desk is apparently more complicated than one would think. 

Yoongi won’t leave your right side, while Taehyung won’t leave your left. Both act like it's code red, and someone is trying to assassinate you. Then, the rest of BTS trails behind like some kind of posse. 

You keep your head down to avoid any strange looks or glares from whomever you pass. To your relief, you find Derek waiting at your desk with his head resting on his palms and a mischievous smile. 

“I see you are taking things in stride,” glancing at your plethora of bodyguards. “Did the Prime Alpha explain everything to you?”

Speaking up from the back of the group, Namjoon answers for you: “She is aware that we are responsible for her at this time, and she will be treated by our doctor at our temporary pack house.”

You don’t miss Derek's look of concern as he tilts his head with curiosity at Namjoon. “I see, of course. You are just responsible for getting her treated. Hybrid customs and all.”

“Derek, can you please let the big boss know that I will be leaving with Bangtan Pack to seek medical care and once I have more updates, I will let you both know?” 

Glancing at Yoongi and still seeing his lovely golden-yellow eyes, you try to ignore the slight flutter in your stomach, “I don’t think it would be good for me to talk with him myself right now.”

Derek nods in response, “Manager Sejin has already given the boss a rough time frame for the near future. I suppose his managing skills came in handy. Don’t worry about us here, we will get a temp while you heal.”

Standing up, Derek passes you your purse, which Taehyung takes. You try to grab it again, but only to have a black and white tail wrap around your arm and bring it back down to your side.

“No carry. Keep safe.” Taehyung almost grunts out in a deeper-than-deep voice, which short-circuits your brain. You knew he was the deep voice of the group, but that was not his singing voice.

Glancing at Derek out of the side of your eye, you see him briefly nod and smile encouragingly while he whispers, “It’s an Alpha Space thing. Best acknowledge his help.”

“Umm… Th-tha-hank you, Alpha,” you stammer out, willing the heat creeping up your neck to stop as your words pull a boxy grin from the Tiger hybrid.

“I think that is it,” you announce to nobody in particular. You smile awkwardly at Derek as he seemingly takes you in like he has never seen you before.

“Y/n, you have been through so much. Not just today but in your life. You have always been the one to take the blame for others, working harder or longer than anyone else and caring for those who never return the favor,” he says, his eyes glance at the men surrounding you as he sees nods of understanding and looks of concern from them.

As a soft smile blooms on his face, he holds onto your good hand, “Take time for yourself and let this pack of Alphas take care of you. You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”

He pulls you into a hug. You briefly stiffen, waiting for the growling and pulling to start, but to your surprise, it doesn't. Relaxing into his hug, you take his words to heart.

A soft whisper in your ear: “You know you will always have Evie and me as your family pack, but right now, be open to the pack around you. " With one last squeeze, Derek steps back and returns to your desk. "Now, shoo! Off you go. The boss said I’ll get to man the front desk for now.”

With a nod, you wave goodbye and face the hybrids behind you. After not finding Manager Sejin and a few others missing, your eyes settle automatically on Namjoon. With a slight frown, you wait for a clue as to what to do next.

“Manager Sejin went down to get the cars. Seokjin-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, and Jimin-ah also went down because we won’t all fit in the elevator,” reassures Namjoon.

“Oh,” you feel a slight tightening in your chest after realizing you didn’t even notice they had gone.

“Miss Y/n, let's take you to get looked at,” Jungkook says while inching towards the office doors. His Alpha wanting to get you away from the hallway that leads to the offices where he knows the Playmates who hurt you are being kept.

You follow the bunny and wolf hybrid while still sandwiched between the tiger and jaguar hybrids. Walking through the halls, you gain some attention from the people you pass. You’re a mere human surrounded by some of the hottest Idols in the world right now. So why wouldn’t they?

Not willing to look up, you keep your eyes cast down to the feet in front of you as you try to avoid what you are a gazillion percent sure are looks of disgust and hate toward you. Normally, you can walk the halls without drawing attention unless Reina is around. While Reina made sure everyone noticed you in a negative way, you fail to notice the glaring looks of the Alphas surrounding you, which has silenced most of the current gossiping.

Once the elevator doors open, the tiger lets out a low growl. Glancing up, you see two fellow PMS employees quickly scamper out of the elevator and down the hall. Well, that is another embarrassing incident that you will have to deal with when you return to work.

Namjoon and Jungkook take the back corners. Looking at the men by your sides, they motion for you into the elevator next. However, when you go to stand in another corner, you are quickly ushered back into the middle with Yoongi and Taehyung in front of you. 

The tense energy calms down as the doors close. The threats in the hallway, the Playmate enemies, and the bumbling director are no longer a concern. The four Alphas relax now that they are the only ones to surround you and are taking care of you. 

Even if your trust in them starts with an injury, they know this is their chance to show you what it means to be taken care of, acknowledged as precious, and loved endlessly by the seven of them. 

As the elevator doors part, you're immediately greeted by the remaining packmates waiting for you, smiles warm and welcoming. They're surrounded by more men in black, whom you assume are bodyguards. The sheer amount of people outside the elevator is a bit intimidating.

Turning to look at you, Yoongi speaks for the first time since he entered Alpha Space, “Take home. Keep safe.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @staytinyville @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop @m00njinnie @drenix004 @singukieee @avadakadabra93 @dazzlingjade @sehun096rainbow @sunshinecallie

[atimeofyourlife]

As soon as the team was asked for volunteers, Steve was the first to sign up. He usually hated working events, but this was different. This was the first event when they'd get to be themself. He'd been to pride only once before, getting dragged along with Robin the year before, and it had ended up being a world of discovery.

Sure, he couldn't be decked out in rainbows and flags, having to wear their EMT uniform. But their boss had approved pins and bracelets as long as it didn't interfere with the duty. So his uniform had their pronoun of the day pins (They/He), their updated name badge showing his choice of names (Steve/Evie), pins and bracelets of the trans, non-binary, genderfluid, and bi pride flags. And Robin had braided bi pride ribbons into his hair before he tied it back when getting ready. It was going to be a good day.

He was kept busy, like the rest of the first aid team. And being one of the highest trained on duty, one of two AEMTs and in training to become a paramedic, he was tending to deal with the worst injuries and illnesses, and having to triage for if anyone needed to be transferred to the hospital. Robin stopped by a few times, to check in, and to give them snacks. It helped break up the day as he wouldn't get a long break.

They'd had to spend some of the day hurrying around the site whenever the radio buzzed for first-aid assistance at various points around the site. He was making his way back to the first-aid tent after one call, when their eye was caught by the band on the second stage. In particular, the long-haired guitarist. Steve couldn't help watching them as he walked by, until he stumbled and nearly fell into someone. They shook their head, and dragged their eyes away to make his way back to the tent. He was there to do his job, not make eyes at a pretty guitarist. They tried to put it out of their mind, but he couldn't help looking out for the guitarist as the day passed. Not letting it get in the way of their job, but whenever they had a second free.

Late in the afternoon, they were alerted to a group of people making their way to the tent. Two guys supporting a third, with another guy ahead of them to clear the way. Steve pulled fresh gloves on and hurried down to help. As he reached the group, he realized that the guy being supported was the pretty guitarist. They tried to not think about it, needing to remain professional.

"What seems to be the problem?" Steve asked, swapping places with one of the guys supporting the guitarist.

"He nearly passed out on us." One of them responded.

"Right. Come on, we'll get you all checked out." Steve replied, guiding them into the tent.

"You can check me out anytime, sweetheart." The guitarist replied, leaving Steve fighting back a blush.

"Eddie, shut up." The guy in front snapped, before glancing at Steve. "Sorry about him."

"But he's pretty." The guitarist- Eddie- whined.

"Okay, just set him down here." Steve helped Eddie onto the bed at one end of the tent, before turning to the other guys. "Only one of you can stay in here with him because of the space, so if the other two can just wait outside?"

The other three guys looked between them, silently deciding that the shorter, curly haired guy would be the one to stay behind.

"Gare-bear, where they going?" Eddie asked.

"They're waiting outside for you, asshole."

Steve coughed a little to hide the laugh that threatened to burst out, the conversation reminding them too much of dealing with a drunk Robin, or worse, the kids while they were crossfaded for the first time.

"Okay, can I just pop this on your finger for a reading?" Steve asked, waiting for Eddie to hold his hand out so he could fix the pulse ox monitor. They then grabbed a clipboard and a blank paperwork sheet. "And while we wait for that, just a few questions. Can we start with your name?"

"Eddie Munson." The other guy, Gare? replied.

"You can take my last name, angel." Eddie said, which Steve ignored.

"Thank you, and the date of birth?"

The other guy reeled it off, as Steve wrote it down.

"And Gare, was it?"

"Gareth."

"Gareth, sorry. Can you tell me what, exactly, happened? The other guy said he nearly passed out?"

"Yeah. Uh, we were performing earlier. We're in a band. He was fine then. But in the last thirty minutes or so, he's been complaining about not feeling so good, and then he nearly passed out."

"Okay." Steve wrote down all the information, then copied down the numbers from the pulse ox. "I just need to get the rest of your vitals, okay, Eddie?"

"Anything you want. He's so beautiful, isn't he Gare?"

"Anything you say, Eds."

Steve set to taking the vitals, making sure everything was normal, but kept asking questions to get to the bottom of it.

"Any medical conditions?"

"No."

"Do you know if he's taken anything in the last twenty four hours? Any prescription meds, or over the counter, or any other substance?"

"Shhh. Gare, you can't tell him."

"Dude, I'm not a cop. I just need to know if it could be what you've taken, or so if you need any medication it won't react to it."

"He smokes, and we were smoking weed last night. But he smokes weed most weeks and has never reacted like this." Gareth explained.

"Uh-huh." Steve continued to make notes, both the answers to the questions and Eddie's vitals. "Any alcohol?"

"A couple of beers."

"When was the last time he ate?" Steve asked, frowning when they noticed that Eddie's blood sugar was on the low side.

"Wait, I think that was-" Gareth broke off for a moment. "Eddie, you certifiable moron."

"Not eaten much today?" Steve guessed.

"Not eaten at all today. He doesn't eat breakfast, ever, and he felt sick before we went on so he didn't eat lunch. And after he still didn't want anything."

"That pretty much explains everything. Plus drinking on an empty stomach is a recipe for disaster. I'll grab some water and something small so you'll feel less like passing out." Steve crossed the tent to find a bottle of water and the emergency snacks they kept, usually for diabetics.

"Here. Drink some water, and eat these. I know they're not the most exciting snacks, but you should feel better after." Steve handed it over to Eddie, a mini bag of fruit gummies, and a small pack of crackers.

Steve kept a check on Eddie as he ate the snacks. He seemed to be doing better, which put Steve's mind at ease. And kept trying to flirt, which left them fighting to remain professional.

"How are you feeling now, Eddie?" Steve asked after a few minutes, hoping that it wouldn't be too much longer before they could have a moment to freak out, preferably with Robin.

"Better. But you could make me feel incredible, big boy." Eddie said, a clear flirty tone in his voice.

"Not while I'm on duty," Steve replied slightly absently as he made a note on Eddie's sheet. Then, realizing what they'd said, fought to figure out how to backtrack without offending Eddie. "I mean, it's good that you're feeling better. I would recommend you try to get a balanced meal soon, something with carbs, protein, fibre, fats. That will help keep you feeling better, and keep you from feeling like you're going to pass out again. And it might be best if you stay off the alcohol for today."

"Does that mean- ow." Eddie started to ask something, but cut off. Steve looked up from the clipboard, and it was obvious that Gareth had elbowed Eddie to get him to shut up.

"This is your copy of the paperwork, it just has your vitals, and what's happened. If you still feel unwell later, and you need to come back here, or you seek medical attention somewhere else, you can show this, so whoever you see has some background for what has happened today." Steve explained, handing the sheet over to Eddie.

"Thanks," Eddie replied, starting to stand up.

"You're welcome, enjoy the rest of your day." Steve turned to start sanitising and packing away the equipment used, so the space would be tidy for the next person to need it. He could hear a brief, whispered conversation behind him, but ignored it. Until they felt a tap on their shoulder, and turned back to Eddie.

"For you," Eddie said, thrusting a small piece of paper into Steve's hands before leaving the tent with Gareth.

Steve unfolded it, and read the note. 'What about when you're off duty?' followed by a phone number. He blushed a little as he shoved it into his pocket. God, they needed to talk to Robin.

Later, once he was home, he finally had the chance. Not that she was much help.

"You're telling me you nearly fell over yourself because you were staring at this guy, kept looking out for him because you hoped to see him after, he shows up to the tent and is flirting with you, and gave you his number. And you haven't called him?"

"That is missing the point entirely? He wasn't well when he came to the tent, and it kinda feels like I was taking advantage of him to end up with his number after that. I should have given him to one of the others. I shouldn't have let him give me his number." Steve protested, feeling unsure if they had handled everything in the best way.

"You are the only person I have ever met who thinks that getting the number of someone you find attractive is somehow a bad thing. This is why you're still single."

Basically giving Steve my gender here. In this he's genderfluid and uses various combinations of They/He/She pronouns, depending on the day I was at pride today (well, yesterday as it's now after midnight here), and this idea came to me on the way home. Also, idk how first aid services at events work in the US, so this is vaguely based off what I know from what I've seen in the UK.

[kamisama1kiss]

don’t mind me, just an anon dropping the idea of Descendants AU Lloyd Garmadon into your head so I’m not the only one suffering with the idea of it

...Wait, this is smart. Since we all know who his father is 🤭 that is so absolutely yummy! I saw this at about 5 am. And had a hard time falling asleep after wanting to see more of this AU. Whoever you are, you're an absolute genius

~~~

Lloyd Garmadon { Rotten to the core }

Platonic headcanons

~

• I can definitely see him wear a lot of dark greens, black and gold details alongside some bone design along his outfit, taking insporation from when he was younger

• He is on the VK island. You can't change my mind

• Being one of the chosen ones to go alongside Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlose to leave for Arudon (if we follow the storyline)

• It took him a lot longer to get used to all the none stealing, discovery of his new favourite food which would be sweets

• Mostly silent or scoffing at others with a nutural expression, but eventually, when getting closer to actually him considering you a friend som smaller hints of smile will be present

• Let only specific people touch him since he had little to nothing or not at all a good connection with his father and his mother, it made him feel weak which is a big no no

• A ton of stolen candy bars hidden under his pillow from the day

• Had naturally a mystery aura around him, being closest to the four other VK with a few others eventually around the school

• Would use his Oni aspect of him whenever anyone gets on his nerves to scare them off or just intimate the person

• Would constantly be on the move. He is everywhere yet nowhere at the same time

Romantic

~

•Definitely the trope of you fell first he fell harder

• It took MONTHS for him to even know what the things he felt meant. After listening in on Evie and Mals' conversation, he would understand what he was infant having romantic feelings

•Definitely in denial, having never felt it before, which did scare him even more. Pushing you away at all cost

•The only reason why the relationship even started had to be because you asked/told him that you felt romantic twords him

• Still in denying it, but decided to try after thinking a few days in a row about it

"I suppose it can't hurt.. trying? Just be aware that it will not be a walk in the park."

"I understand that very well... even went through the thought many of time, I want this"

• The answer only made him feel more secure about his decision and felt safe to let you in, his heart having never gone this fast before, even from all the danger he has gone through

• He stole things for you just because it reminded him of you and thought you'd like it. Knowing it would make you smile made it worth getting in trouble

• No PDA whatsoever, but if lucky, maybe a little pinky finger holding in the start at least. It took months of resuring and convincing, but now, at least, he'd be willing to hold hand. Maybe even a hand on the small of their back

• If anyone says or looked at his s/o weirdly, he wouldn't hesitate to put the person in their place

• Prefers sitting in silence and just comfortably exist next to one another under the moon and stars

• Playing with his hair would simply put him to sleep within seconds. Any sort of touch from his s/o would immediately relax him. Being on guard and tense from being used to the island

I am tempted to make some sort of fanfiction of this AU 🤭🤭 if there are any suggestions, I'd happily write them of our very beloved evil oni boy.

I've been sat here for an hour, just giggling to myself

[hannahssimblr]

“Hey! Well- Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t have had your foot there!” 

I snatch Jen away from the girl she has trodden on in the centre of the heaving crowd. It’s so hot. Sweat covers every single person as they become impatient. As I elbow past one guy in a vest, our arms stick together in an odiously intimate sensation. We look at one another with matching expressions of disgust and horror.

“Come on, come on!” I say to Jen.

“Okay, bossy.”

The space around the stage is filling in, and a sea of blurred figures churn around us like liquid, us and every other body shoving towards the barrier. We’re not far anymore. I can see it glinting, tantalising, in the sun.

“Move!” I bellow, and the person blocking my path flinches out of the way. It’s each man for himself. Well, and Jen. I need to take care of Jen. 

And where’s-

“Keep going!” Jen is punching my back now. “Don’t turn around. We’re so close.”

“Um, sorry, but some of us have been waiting here for ages,” a girl with a nasal voice informs her as we wrestle past. “You can’t just butt in anywhere you like.”

“Okay! Shut the fuck up!” Jen says brightly. 

“Sorry, what?”

“I said shut up, it’s bloody hot.” She hisses, whirling on her, “and do you actually think I want-”

“Jen!” As my palm finally makes contact with metal, I snatch her and heave her toward me. “No fights, right? Not this weekend.”

“Did you hear how that girl spoke to me?”

“You’ll never see her again, c’mon.” I push sideways against the others at the barrier to pry a few inches of space for us. “There.”

We crane our necks up at the stage, big, black, and empty, with nests of wires scattering the floor, hanging over the edge. 

“Wow, it was worth it for this spot, wasn’t it?”

I look behind her, a vast sea of faces stretching back for forever. There’s likely no chance we’ll find the rest of our friends now, having abandoned them at the start line in pursuit of this barrier. But right before I give up, I spot Evie. I’ve got a radar for her, it seems. She’s struggling through the hoard elbows first, though unsuccessfully. It appears she is going for the polite approach, trying her best to slip through small gaps between people, but they keep shrugging her off. She will need to be more aggressive than that. 

“Evie! Up here!”

Relief floods her face. “Oh! God! Yeah, hi!”

“Hi!” I grab her hand and yank her through an especially stubborn group of hipsters. “Come on, you can stand here.” Someone else is trying to squeeze into my space, but I just shove him. He moves, barely, leaving only space for one person, but we’ll make do. I pull Evie into place and stand behind her as the gap behind us closes. My body is pushed forward just a little bit, enough to close that careful, intentional space between Evie and me. I breathe through my nose very slowly. 

Are you alright?” I murmur. My face is close to hers, and my palm rests on her shoulder. I don’t move it. She nods. 

I stare at my hand for ages. It’s just there, on her, her bare skin warm under my fingers, and neither of us has acknowledged it. I fantasise about moving my thumb just a few inches and stroking along that graceful curve that joins her shoulder with her neck. I could even tilt her head to the side and put my mouth against the pulse by the corner of her jaw. God, that’d be weird. I would never do that, but I should stop thinking like this before parts of my body begin to assume I will. 

As my eyes dart to Jen, I am relieved to find her striking up a conversation with someone next to her. She’s constantly befriending strangers at events, and normally it annoys me, because she insists on following them to some crusty afterparty in a house with cigarette butts and dried vomit in the bathroom sink, but I’m grateful for this particular trait today, because if she had seen me staring at Evie’s neck like some kind of demented vampire, I would have a hard time getting her to drop the issue. 

When the band come on stage, the crowd erupts into cheers, and I join them at first. I usually love concerts for this reason, this feeling of being part of a collective, me and thousands of other bodies together, seeking the same rush, sharing the same love of music. This is a good band, and I had been excited to see them when I knew they’d be performing, but this fact, every thought and feeling and interest in every niche piece of information I’ve ever read about them while perusing music magazines at the newsagents evaporates into the ether the moment that Evie rests against my chest.

I stay very still. Surely, this is accidental, but I don’t move a muscle, afraid to make it clear I have noticed it. I am resisting the empty feeling she’ll leave when she moves away.

As she hums along to music she doesn’t know, her voice vibrates through her ribs and into me, and when she lifts her hands to clap for the end of a song, she puts them back on the barrier, perhaps just a little closer to mine that they were the last time. I spend three more songs wondering if it was intentional. 

And the band plays, and the crowd cheers and dances and sways to these songs I’ve rinsed a hundred times on my iPod, but I stand with her, so incredibly still, my hands on the barrier on both sides of her, my chin resting upon her head, and I don’t recall a single melody. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[antion-bewitching-bitch]

The budding flower of Hearts

Teaser/Pilot?

Descendants x male Oc (you can read it as a self-insert if you want)

Masterlist

Next Chapter

An: This will be a teaser to a fanfic I'm planning to start. It’ll be a descendants fanfic with a male oc who is the child of the queen of hearts (yes i saw descendants 4, i think i won’t like it nor use it. I’ll centre more on descendants 1, 2, & 3). This won’t be beta read, I'll be the one who’ll mostly check for mistakes but if you do see some, maybe comment and I'll try my best to edit! Hope you like it!

Ps. THIS IS LIKE MY FIRST TIME AND ALSO JUST PILOT SO NOT CHAPTER 1 YET.

1.5k words. No Trigger warnings that I know off.

“And who might you be dear?” The lady in a metallic blue dress asked; She was Fairy Godmother. The school’s mere environment with all its beautiful architecture, clear blue skies, greenery which was a far cry from the deserted land me and the others came from; just a few minutes ago.

“Eli” I muttered, lost in the new environment. Taking in the beautiful clear sky that looked so polluted and clouded back then, It was this beautiful blue now.

I was pulled back to focus when I felt a bump by Carlos, I was asked again. “Eli?”

“Ah! Sorry, my name; it's Eli des Lamproca Van Der Heart.” I tried to push through with how long my name was. “Please just call me Eli!” with a greeting of a low nod and a smile. My heart painted lips curving. They were staring at our alien appearance compared to them.

“Eli, a lovely name.” The Fairy gleefully said with her high pitched voice, doing her best to greet the weird kids who just showed up. “Welcome to Auradon prep! I'm Fairy Godmother, headmistress.”

Mal then quickened “The fairy godmother? As in, "Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo"?”. “Bibbidi-bobbidi. You know it.” The Fairy replied with a smile.

Everything else was forgettable, for I was annoyed that Jay was eying a random girl next to the Fairy. He was skittish and all that nonsense while loudly chewing the gum he had in the limo. I sighed as I continued looking around and noticed Carlos was still trying to fix his clothes with chocolate still in his lips.

I was then brought back to the conversation when the man spoke. “It's so good to finally meet you all! I'm Ben.” I then slanted my head wondering who this ‘Ben’ was. I saw his gaze go to mine.

“Prince! Benjamin. Soon to be king.” The girl next to him followed up quickly, so he was the reason we’re here. 

“You had me at prince. My mom's a queen, which makes me a princess.” Evie walked forward towards him, spinning around a bit and showing him her hand.

The girl then shook her head “The evil queen has no royal status here” Then i saw it “And neither do you.” her smile widened. She had this look in her eyes, gleeful to say the next line putting Evie in her place.

I pulled Evie back a bit next to me. Ben then awkwardly laughed and introduced this girl “This is Aubrey….”

“Princess! Aubrey.” she said while pointing her finger. She was reminding him, she was also royalty. “His. girlfriend.” she was wearing this fake smile. While Ben continued to look at her awkwardly. He isn’t fond of her. It seems so. “Right benny-boo~?” Ben was feeling uncomfortable while she wrapped her hand towards his.

Mal and I smiled back at them. I truly didn’t care for the next gibber gabber of the Fairy with all that talk about some library in the end. 

Ben was behind her and I noticed Aubrey trying to take his hand once but he harshly took it back not wanting to be all touchy in front of us it seems. After the fairy walked away, He stepped forward and offered his hand towards Jay to shake.

 “It is so, so, so good to finally me-meet you all.” Jay, that idiot. He pushed him away. But smiled back at him, He didn’t want to shake his hand while he shook his head. He continued to Mal and shook her hand then stared a bit…

“This is a momentous occasion,” he continued while Mal then shakes her hand like it had been infected “and one that I hope will go down in history. Is that chocolate?” What a mess; Carlos with his already messy face had chocolate covered hands; But then the prince licked his finger clean, and gave me a look. Weird. “As the day our two peoples began to heal.” He shook Evie’s Hand while Aubrey behind him eyed her as she stared at him.

He finally reached me, “What was that pause earlier with Mal?” I asked him while we shook hands and he stared at me and smiled brightly “Ah. nothing! It wa-was nothing. Eli right? Beautiful name”. Weird. 

Aubrey was getting a bit annoyed at him staring at us, but now more so at me. “Hey! You're the mad queen’s son right?” she directed towards me while I nodded with a fake smile; with Ben still staring at me but still wasn’t letting go of my hand. What exactly is going through his mind? “Yeah, you know what? I totally don’t believe the rumours, you’re not that insane!” 

What a bitch. 

Ben then was back to reality when he saw my smile fade a bit and realizing the situation while finally letting go of my hand. I just said nothing since if I did I might have slapped her. He was now looking towards Aubrey and seemed to be thinking of something.

“And you! You’re Maleficent's daughter, aren't you?” She then directed at Mal and stepped a bit closer to her. “Yeah, you know what? I totally do not blame you for your mother trying to kill my parents and stuff.” she rambled.

“Oh! my mom's Aurora. Sleeping~” She proclaimed, faking dumb; she stared at Mal insuating for her to continue. “Beauty!” Mal continued the atmosphere now being awkward.

“Yeah, I've heard the name. You know, and I totally do not blame your grandparents for inviting everyone in the whole world but my mother to their stupid christening.” They smiled back at each other. “Water under the bridge” Aubrey replied smiling. “Totes!” Mal wasn’t backing down. 

What plastics honestly.

Ben grabbed Aubrey away from us and continued while defusing the situation “Okay! So, how about a tour?” We all were silent. So was I. I was just observing really. “Yeah?” He showed us forward and we walked behind him. Evie continued to walk beside me and linked our arms; while Mal was in front of us behind Ben and Aubrey. With Jay and Carlos messing around with each other behind us.

“Auradon prep, originally built over 300 years ago and converted into a high school by my father wh-” 

The yapping of Ben faded as Evie gave me a look of concern. She began “Do yo- Do you think other royals will hate us?”. It was a genuine concern, both me and her were of true royal blood. “Do you think your father will hate you?” I asked her, she was a child of not only the 'Evil Queen' but also the King. She and Snow White were half-siblings.

“I haven’t really met him, I’ve never had…” She continues on. She asked me “Do you think your aunt will hate you?”. The White Queen, the sister of my mother. The one who sentenced her to the wastelands for unity with the other nations.

“Mother said she would have loved me. Though, we haven’t met either” I was going to continue but then we all came to a stop. Ben saw Carlos.

“Carlos.” He said. Carlos was behind Jay’s back, now terrified of the bronze? Statue that was earlier a man now a beast. Carlos must be afraid since it looked like a dog. “It's okay.” He was trying to reassure him to not be that fearful.

“My father wanted his statue to morph from beast to man to remind us that anything is possible.” His father. The king of this united land. I heard of his father’s tale with the beauty that is belle. “Do you resent the witch who cursed your father?” I remembered the beginning of the tale.

“Do you even know the witch? I never heard of them just of their curse towards him”

He laughed again before answering, but now it wasn’t a forced one like earlier with Aubrey. “For the first question, no. I don’t resent them. For the second. I think… even my father doesn’t know them?” He started to scratch his chin while thinking back. Aubrey asked back “Why ask Eli? Why so curious about curses?”

It was clear my curiosity was for him and the witch itself, not the curse. She was clearing trying to put words in my mouth. I laughed a bit at her question, I replied with a smile. “Why not? Scared of my madness?”

“So you guys have a lot of magic here in Auradon?” Mal asked changing the topic while we continued walking inside the school, clearly ignoring the conflict while also using it as a time to gain some information. “Like wands and things like that?”

Ben stole a glance at me before answering Mal’s question. At first it was Mal he was staring at, now me? “Yeah, it exists of course, but It's pretty much retired.” he smiled a bit. “Most of us here are just ordinary mortals.” He nodded with us now being inside the school and at the center of a grand hall with large staircases leading to places we haven’t seen yet.

THATS IT. THATS THE TEASER/PILOT OF THE FANFIC

im sorry if you wanted more and etc. but i just wanted to show just this and i might even change some more stuff in the future just in case too.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AND PLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG AND MOSTLY FOLLOW ME SO I KNOW I SHOULD CONTINUE <3 <3 <3

If its bad just tell me so I can delete this since I am just generally shy since its my first time posting stuff like this

[fag4dykestobin]

yesterday, i wrote a little snippet of a steve coming out scene that had been living in my head for a bit, and i thought that that was it. and then i kept writing little snippets until this was nearly 3k words long <3 so. enjoy!!

-

Steve looks up at the popcorn ceiling, heart beating, beating, beating, nearly out of… his… chest. Steve doesn’t look at Robin, but… he… knows that Robin is looking at… her?

“Feel like we should be in the bathroom for this,” Steve croaks. Robin huffs out a laugh.

“We can move in there, if you want. My parent’s probably won’t need to use it, they’re in bed already.”

Steve shakes… her…? his. His(/her?) head. “No. I feel better in here.”

“Okay.” And then it’s quiet, between them, and it’s up to Steve to fill that silence. Awesome. Steve can do that. Well, Steve could do that, usually, but unfortunately there is something in Steve’s throat that is blocking everything and anything from coming out of it. Maybe Robin will just let him(/her?) sit here in silence forever, until they both fall asleep, and then when they wake up in the morning they can go along with their lives like there’s nothing building up in Steve’s soul, clawing and raging and desperate to come out.

Robin shifts, so that their feet, propped on the wall in front of them, are touching. It’s enough to get Steve going.

“You know when we were in the Russian base, and you said the thing about your life being one big error?”

Robin made a noise of affirmation.

“Were you talking about, like, being gay?”

Robin sits with the question for a few moments. “... Mostly,” is the answer she decides to go with. Steve waits for her to elaborate.

“I guess it was like, well. Some of it had to do with how we ended up in the Russian base, right? It didn’t feel real. Or like it was supposed to happen. But it also felt like just one more thing in my life that went wrong, and I kinda connect all the bad things that happen to me with me being a lesbian.” There’s a beat of silence. “Which I know isn’t really good. But I’ve been doing it for a while, so it’s hard to stop.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you feel like that? About being, um, half-gay?” The term they’ve landed on for Steve’s sexuality is kind of ridiculous, but neither of them could think of anything better for it. And it’s not like they really refer to it by name outside of hushed and rare conversations like this one. 

“I guess?” Steve thinks on it a little. “Not really. Not like you, at least. It’s, like…” Steve lets himself(/herself?) brush against the problem in his(/her?) brain. Think about it for more than a fleeting moment.

Terror envelopes him(/her?)(cut that shit out pick one and stick to it). Steve tries to think through it, but it’s kind of hard to breathe.

“It’s more about, um. I don’t know. I… It feels stupid.” It feels wrong. It feels criminal.

“I won’t think you’re stupid,” Robin says, so earnestly, like she believes it. Oh, that’s horrible to think about her. Steve screws his eyes shut. Steve screws her eyes shut.

Pick one. (pick he.) And stick to it.

“Sometimes I… mmm. Sometimes I… Robin, if you—” Steve cuts himself off. This feels evil, what he’s about to say. Maybe more evil than what he is. “If I what?” Robin sounds concerned. Like, worried concerned. It makes Steve want to stop everything and wrap her up in a big hug and never talk about this again. Besides, what was Steve even going to say? Robin, if you hate me after this… what? What does he want her to do? Robin, if you hate me after what I say, please don’t.

If Robin hated Steve for this, he might just die.

“Steve? Are you okay?” Robin takes her legs down from the wall and sits up, leans over Steve, trying to get a good look at his face. Steve covers his eyes with his hands.

“I don’t know. I don’t— eugh.” Steve gulps in a big breath, “Robin, if you— hate me, um—”

“No! No no no no no! No! Steve, look at me! Right now!” Steve wants to, but that might make him actually cry. Steve digs her palms into her eyes. No. His palms, his eyes.

God.

“Steve, Evie, please. Please.” The nickname makes Steve’s eyes water. He swipes at them to make them go away, but they keep flowing. Okay, this is going a bit disastrously. The most important thing to do right now is keep his eyes closed and not look at Robin, or else he might shatter into a million little pieces.

“No, I— let me just— I don’t want you to—”

“I won’t hate you, ever. For anything. Are you okay?” Robin sounds miserably anxious. You can’t promise that, Steve wants to bite out. He swallows it. Steve has to trust Robin, because if she can’t, maybe she truly isn’t meant to be like this. Maybe Robin won’t hate him, maybe Robin will help him fix it.

“Sometimes I think about being a girl.”

The words sit heavy between them. Steve kind of wants to throw up about it.

“... Okay.” Robin says. She sounds a little breathless. Steve tries to imagine the look on her face, but can’t imagine it through the fuzz of terror. And like hell will he open his eyes.

“... Okay?” Steve croaks, after Robin fails to elaborate.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” She still has that breathless note in her voice, but it’s more like an aftermath-of-anxiety breathlessness than still-actively-anxious breathlessness.

Steve worries that he’s(.../she’s?) downplayed the problem here. Steve swallows, mouth dry, throat dry.

“No, I, I don’t just think about it, I like thinking about it. I like it when, um, the kids make fun of me by calling me, a, a mom, and I like when you or Max or El paints my nails, and I, I think about stealing your clothes sometimes and it makes me want to kill myself but I can’t, I can’t stop, I…” Steve is now hyperventilating. 

Robin tackles Steve, and Steve’s horrible, traitorous mind wonders if she’ll wrap her hands around his(/her?) throat and kill her(/him?) rather than let him(her?) leave this room.

Steve opens her(/his?) mouth to, who knows, tell her that it’s okay? That he(/she?) understands? That she(/he?) loves her? But nothing comes out, and after a second, Steve realizes that it’s a hug. Obviously. And then Steve starts sobbing.

It takes a few minutes for Steve to stop losing… his? her? God, the thought of either makes Steve want to puke. It takes a few minutes for Steve to stop losing Steve’s mind. And Robin strokes Steve’s hair the whole time, and holds Steve the whole time, and whispers that it’s okay and that she loves Steve, the whole time. It kind of prolongs the sobbing, in a way, because Steve just can’t believe it. But Steve does eventually calm down.

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

Steve sniffles and swallows thickly. “Yeah?”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Well,” says Robin, and then she pauses, like she’s thinking. Steve lets her. There’s a headache brewing in Steve’s temple, and the silence is nice, in a way.

“Well,” Robin starts up again. “I don’t think you’re weird, or messed up, and I definitely don’t hate you. We’ve seen bad things and bad people. And you’re not bad.”

“Well, I… if I’m not bad, or weird, for this, I don’t know what I am.” Steve can hardly believe how well Robin is taking this. It really shouldn’t surprise Steve at all, because Robin is so, so good, but this is something that Steve hates, and they’re usually a united front on that, when it really matters.

So… maybe Robin is right.

Robin climbs off of Steve, lays down next to Steve again. But instead of propping her legs up on the wall, like Steve for some goddamn reason is still doing, she curls next to Steve, facing Steve. Looking at Steve. Still holding Steve’s hands.

“We’ll figure it out.” She squeezes. Steve squeezes right back, and keeps the grip tight.

“Okay.”

They sit in silence, and Steve just… breathes. Tries to will the headache away; not happening, ugh. Drops the legs from the wall. Steve plays with Robin’s fingers, not even trying to process what had happened yet. That can wait til later.

After a few minutes, Robin speaks up again. “Are you okay with questions? If not, that’s fine.” And Steve knows she means it. She will totally drop it for the night and let them settle down and watch a movie or three. But Steve doesn’t really want that right now. Steve wants to stay in this space where, at least for now, what Steve is feeling is fine, and alright. Steve’s never had that before, for this.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “They’re okay.” Maybe they can do the figuring out thing right now. Maybe all of Steve’s problems will be solved tonight. Wouldn’t that be a relief? Robin pulls her hands away, and Steve hears the rasping of her shirt material being rubbed together between her fingers.

“So… do you want to be a girl?” The question doesn’t sound harsh leaving Robin’s mouth, but the words are heavy. It makes alarm bells ring in Steve’s head, forbidden question! Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it! Years of routine repression make it hard for Steve to even consider the question, but Steve tries. Slowly and agonizingly, Steve thinks about it. It genuinely takes a few minutes, but Robin can clearly sense that Steve is thinking about it, so she doesn’t interrupt. Steve loves her so much.

“Kinda,” Steve whispers. “It’s… I don’t know. Really. It’s stupid.”

“Nuh-uh. No stupid stuff right now. Just say how you feel.”

“I kinda wanna be half-girl. Like how I’m half-gay.” It feels stupid. It feels evil. It feels way too indulgent. Even in a perfect world, it’s one or the other. Steve can’t, like, hog them both. They cancel each other out. Right?

“Uh-huh?” Robin is prompting Steve to go on. Oh God.

“Um. Like. I still… like the guy parts of me, you know? I still like being a guy.” That feels really important to emphasize. Steve feels kind of insane, talking like this, actually getting Steve’s thoughts out into the real world. But Robin is still listening, no judgment. It kind of makes Steve want to cry again, but that would make the headache worse so, no thanks. “But I… I like the girl parts, too. I like when you call me Evie, but I don’t want you to stop calling me Steve.”

Steve can feel Robin shift, like she’s nodding. “Okay,” she says again.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. You can… you can be a half-girl, half-guy.” And it sounds simple and a little obscene, when she says it. Maybe not obscene. Maybe more like tantalizing.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers. “Is that, like… allowed?”

Steve finally turns to look at Robin. Her eyes are big and full of thought. It feels stupid, thinking like that, but there’s nothing else to describe it. Steve can see the thoughts dancing around in her pupils and irises and whatever else is in an eye. It’s so beautiful. Steve loves her so much.

“... I think that you can do whatever you want,” Robin whispers back. “And be whatever you want.”

Steve’s face crumples, just a little bit. Not enough that it means tears, but enough to bring the idea to mind. Steve pinches Steve’s nose. “It can’t be that simple, though.”

Robin tilts her head in a way that can only be described as birdlike. She hates when people compare her to birds, just because of her name, but it fits right now, in the secrecy of Steve’s brain. She looks serious and intent. “Why not?”

“Nobody has ever done this before. I think.”

“Nobody that we know of. We live in Hawkins, Steve, we know like, 500 people. There are probably people in New York, or Chicago, or whatever, that feel exactly like you.”

Steve can’t reconcile with that. It feels so lonely, being like this. It feels inherently lonely.

“And even if you are the only one in the world that feels like this… Well, that’s fine! You can be whoever you want! Especially around me.” Robin grabs Steve’s hands in her own. Her hands are always so cold. Steve loves to hold them and feel them warm up bit by bit. It’s grounding, especially right now.

“I don’t want you to hide yourself. Not from me. I hid for so long, around everyone else, and it was killing me.” Robin’s eyes bore into Steve’s. “And I didn’t know it was killing me, but looking back, it’s like, wow, I was going to die.” Her voice cracks, just a little bit, and Steve makes an involuntary noise. Holds her hands just a little tighter. The warmth is already equalizing between them. “And, I don’t know. I don’t want you to get there. Or, if… you’re there already, I don’t want you getting any further.”

Sometimes it astounds Steve, just how much Robin gets things. This isn’t one of those times, though. It feels deeply right, and deeply sad.

“Alright,” Steve says.

“You won’t hide this from me? After this?”

A shake of the head. “No.” And it sounds so easy, promising this. Maybe it can be easy. Steve hopes it will be easy.

“I love you,” Robin says, and she pulls Steve into a hug. Steve melts into it. Robin gives very bony and kinda twitchy hugs, minute movements every few seconds, and Steve loves them. Robin, a while ago, maybe a couple months after Starcourt, had expressed anxiety about her hugs being ‘godawful uncomfortable,’ her words, but Steve had denied that fiercely. Her hugs were God’s gift to mankind, and if everyone else hated it, fine. More for Steve.

“I love you too,” Steve says into her chest.

They lapse into silence again. Steve thinks about asking for some water, but that would mean one or both of them leaving this room, and all possible configurations seem worse than the lack of water, right now. Steve presses closer into Robin.

“Another question.”

“Yeah?”

“So, you like Steve and Evie, and you’re a girl and a guy. Do you like he and she?”

There’s the dreaded question. Steve can’t hold back a groan. “I don’t know,” Steve says into her chest. “I’ve kinda, thought about it a bit, but… both of them feel weird, by themselves. I guess I like both, but only when they’re next to each other. I can’t really decide on one.”

Robin hums in consideration. “I mean, we’re making all this up as we go. If they don’t feel right by themselves, then why do they have to be by themselves?”

Steve thinks about it. “It feels like they’re supposed to cancel each other out,” Steve says, voicing a thought from earlier.

“They clearly don’t, at least in your case.” Robin presses her cheek to the top of Steve’s head, flattening the hair there. “Don’t think about how things should be. Think about what you want.”

What Steve wants. Okay.

He thinks about he. She thinks about she. And how, apart, they really only feel like half of himself, but together, they feel like they tell the whole story and show the whole picture.

Steve can’t help but think about those optical illusions Dustin had shown her a while back. The one with the two faces. If you concentrated, you see whichever one you wanted at will. And they seemed so opposed, yet so intertwined, and you couldn’t have one face without the other. Maybe he’s an optical illusion. It’s better than being evil.

“Okay. Yeah. Both are good.” Steve can feel Robin smile into her hair.

“Do you want me to use them both?”

Steve feels a flash of panic. “Um— augh. Not… not around other people, um, but—”

Robin squeezes him closer. “Oh, God, obviously!” she says, and Steve is so grateful that they’re on the same page, like, 90% of the time, and that this falls into that 90%. “I can sneak them into conversations between us. Pronouns don’t really pop up in conversations between two people, but maybe if we got a cat or a goldfish or a turtle I could talk to it about you in front of you. Or is that weird? Hm. It might be weird.”

Steve can’t help the smile dawning on her face. Maybe everything will be okay. “It’s kinda weird. But we should do it anyway.”

Robin laughs, and Steve still has his face buried in her chest, so he can feel it. “Yeah,” she says fondly. “I guess that hasn’t stopped us before.”

[poedays]

Specific things about my Listeners (because why not)

This includes: Angel, Babe, Sweetheart (Redacted Audio), and Knight, Ranger, and Seer (CastleAudios).

—- —- —-

Angel:

Cassidy Shaw | She/They/He

- ‘I / Me / Myself’ by Will Wood is her song, she listened to it when it came out and obsessed over it. Cass is a certified Will Wood fan and it is a part of their personality.

- Makes jokes about having dropped out of high school, and to this day no one knows if they’ve been joking or not.

- > At times David has believed they aren’t joking simply because of some of the questionable things they get wrong.

- Has wing tattoos on her shoulder blades as an homage to their pet name.

- Got David to teach her how to box and is really passionate about it.

Babe:

Ellis Talbot-Ettore | He/Him

- Has Italian heritage and parallels Ash’s terrible skills in cooking.

- > The two have had little homemade pizza nights and Asher admits that homemade is better than Max’s, but he still orders out a lot for the wings mostly.

- Goes to the gym pretty regularly with the mantra ‘have to work out to be able to carry Asher’. Ellis used to just think this as a joke but after the Inversion he’s really focused on this in a trauma way.

- Wanted to be a firefighter when he was growing up. He had the friendly demeanour and passion, but somewhere along the way he was pushed towards a more scholarly career.

- Is really interested in Venus-Flytraps.

Sweatheart:

Calvin ‘Cal’ | They/He

- Makes Calvin Klein Jokes.

- Has an iron deficiency but forgets to take their pills so they end up crashing a lot of the time. Work at the department does not help with the sleep schedule nor remembering things before or after work.

- > Milo often goes with them to get iron infusions. The department covers most of their health insurance to make sure no one complains about any side effects of how things are run.

- When they were growing up, phasing through things made them throw up due to some sort of motion sickness.

- Has an older sister that begged them not to join the department and whenever the two see each other work is a bitter topic of conversation.

—- —- —-

Knight:

Wilson | He/Him

- Does not introduce himself as Wilson, or anything to do with his actual name. He just says ‘my friends call me knight’ and that’s that.

- > Claire and Beth call him Will.

- He has ‘if lost, return to Claire Greene’ sewn into the collar of his shifter clothes and when he shifts the little sash around his back paw (see castle’s post about the shifter clothes) says the same thing.

- Has been defenestrated by Beth once or twice.

- Have had half joking, half completely serious conversations with Evie about enjoying being called ‘puppy’.

- > He will never outright admit it because he knows somehow that Claire and Beth will find out and make fun of him for it.

Ranger:

Ava | She/Her

- Literally no one calls her Ava, it’s nickname after nickname after nickname. Except for Diane, Diane calls her Ava and no one else has that privilege.

- Was in Girl Scouts.

- Her parents forbid her to cut her hair short when she was growing up so when she moved to Glenwood, she cut it all off to a pixie-cut.

- > She runs her hand through her hair when she’s stressed.

Seer:

Mallory ‘Rory’ | They/She

- Rory and Beth confine in each other about having old people names: Bethany and Mallory sound like a lovely pair of grandmothers.

- Is Wasian and learnt how to cut up fruit in those really specific ways as a skill to ‘impress a future suitor’. When Beth found out she may or may not have laughed at them.

- Likes to braid Beth’s hair when they’re in a group setting -> if Beth’s just talking and Seer’s hasn’t got anything to say they just end up putting little braids in Beth’s hair.

- Sometimes their visions bleed into their dreams and when they wake up they can’t tell what was real and what their mind just made up.

- > They have really lucid nightmares.

[shoshiwrites]

"gamble" or "quiet"? kissing out where nobody can catch them? - for Jo & Egan, of course, because I live the life of an enabler handing you another juicebox 🧃

You are the best, Killy, and thank you to you and @mercurygray for helping me break my little sick-time writer's block ♡ Bucky Egan/War correspondent OC, also on Ao3!

close to you

She’d gone with Kay back to London for a few days. Enough time to catch herself up, wire the stories she hadn’t already, knock her head against the wall a few more times over what did and didn’t go through. The damn blue slashes. Black ones too. Hell, a woman at the corner newsstand had showed Jo a letter from a boyfriend, cut into the RAF’s version of a paper snowflake. It fluttered strangely in the humid breeze, in the young woman’s hand. 

She’d seen Bill March’s broken arm, sustained in some manner during an air raid, though the correspondent still had his usual cheerful smile for her, and the pallbearers carrying a distant cousin of Kay’s out of the church in Marylebone, all of twenty when his ship had been torpedoed off the coast of Italy.

She’d gotten back to Thorpe Abbotts on a Friday afternoon, the air still soupy, her suitcase with a half-broken latch and her bitten nails, a growing hole in her last pair of stockings.

It wasn’t raining. Maybe that counted for something.

Trousers then, and maybe she was optimistic, thinking she felt the air cooling a bit around her. There were small scraps of blue sky, like she’d found them in the bottom of her mother’s rag bin. Calico up in the firmament.

The coffee’s warm, if bitter, she hardly pays attention to that now. A few Clubmobile women cleaning trays in the kitchen take pity on her and sneak her a donut. She dips, sloshes, remembers the good old days of milk and cream, and wanders back outside, wondering if she’d made a mistake in coming here straight from London. Her room is still hers in Norwich. Mrs. Fitzgerald had made sure she knew that. It’s a kindness she doesn’t quite have the words for. 

She’ll stay in the Clubmobile quarters tonight, on the extra cot. She’d left a book in Crosby’s care last week and he’d returned it to Tatty Spaatz, a piece of stationery stuck in the middle with neat, if hurried, observations. His handwriting reminds her of Evie’s, the block print of a planner.

“Major Egan will be happy to hear you’re back,” Tatty says, and there’s almost a smile playing at the corner of her mouth, her lipstick the color of red wine.

Jo hardly keeps stone-faced, a little scrunch somewhere between a question and an acknowledgement, distaste and curiosity. “I haven’t seen him,” she says.

They yawn, the seconds between the conversation outside and when he’s walking, seeing her, redirecting his path. His eyes look like he’s been squinting in low light, the mask-marks raw across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He’d come out of his office. Post-mission administration, she thinks. Letters home. He writes them longhand, someone had told her. He’s never spoken about it. She’s never asked him.

And she’s not sure happy is the word she’d use, right now. But Tatty knows what she said. Happy is on the ground. A girl smiling at you. The smell of her hair, clean. 

The question comes on an exhale, the tie loosened around his neck. “You wanna go for a walk?”

It feels faintly ridiculous, the way she’s not used to being asked. And it’s faintly ridiculous too, the way propriety and a respectful difference between his boots and her lace-up shoes becomes a sneak-around, a glancing journey to the far edge of the airfield, the side of an outbuilding backed by trees. 

Maybe he wants something else, she thinks. Another jigger of whiskey, playing cards on the table, chips or dice or jacks. Someone else. Someone who lets him forget.

He kisses her before they’ve even stopped moving, as she rounds the corner in the half-tall grass. 

She hasn’t snuck around like this in — god — she can’t remember. Years. 

She can’t remember the last time she’s been kissed like this. A sunlit kitchen, softer. Before the leather interiors of fancy cars and class rings. She never thought it could be dressed like this, callused hands and muscle. The flutter of tiny wings falls still. A fly buzzes around their ankles; she can hear it between the sounds of his mouth, breath hot between them.

She can feel that little swatch of damp at the small of her back, the feeling of her hipbones beneath the wool of her trousers. He breaks away to kiss the side of her mouth, the short hairs of his mustache brushing her upper lip. 

John, she wants to say, but maybe she can help it, the desperate act of naming him. It all sticks in her throat, like a glob of too-soft caramel. Hardening. John, John, John. “Afternoon, Major.” 

He looks like he’s trying to decide something, kisses her again by her nose while he does. She’ll do the same if he’ll let her, the cuts of the oxygen mask and the freckles she can see in the light. “Afternoon, Captain.”

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

My brain is melty but something something “you want to bet on it?” Not exactly astarion and Tav but like. The rest of the camp talking about them?

Feel better soon!

A/N: This was actually a lot of fun! You didn't specify so I decided to go with Ace!Tav AKA Evie for this prompt. Hope that's okay.

Consider this a continuation of this headcanon.

Astarion x Ace!Tav (Evie) Masterlist

“You know what? I don’t think they’re fucking.”

Gale choked on his drink, following Karlach's eye line to a familiar corner.

Astarion and Evie had found their own little piece of no where, as was becoming habit with them at this point in the evening. Astarion had an arm wrapped about them and he whispered something in their ear, causing them to laugh. Astarion answered this with a playful nip of their neck which is right about when Gale averted his eyes. They were entitled to some privacy.

"My ears would beg to differ," he said, dryly. "I swear I didn't get a wink last night."

"Well that's just the thing innit?" Karlach pressed. "I mean, I can understand getting that riled up every now and again, but every night?"

"Astarion is a vampire," Wyll pointed out. "Even a spawn is liable to have higher than average...stamina."

Karlach let out a snort. "You read too much. Besides, even if that was true, doesn't stop E from being human."

"Why though?" Gale said. "What would be the point of pretending engage in such, ah...enthusiastic intercourse? I mean, we all know they're together. Why the extra show?"

"I would not be surprised if Astarion is putting on, as you said, an extra show," Lae'zel said. "He has boasted many times of his prowess in giving carnal pleasure. Not to mention, he likes to make clear what is his. Ravaging sex would accomplish both quite easily."

"Still doesn't explain E's half of all this," Karlach insisted. "It does take at least two, last I checked."

"Trust me, just two is enough," Gale grumbled. "If you want proof for yourself, I am more than happy to switch rooms."

"No good. I'm just below them."

"Oh for Gods' sake!"

"You've been oddly quiet, Shadowheart," Wyll interrupted, giving the cleric an assessing look. "Care you share your thoughts."

Shadowheart shrugged, carefully setting down her glass of wine. "I don't see what more I have to add to the conversation. You all seem set in your opinions."

"And I am curious to hear yours," Wyll pressed.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you all are putting a lot of thought into something that is frankly none of your business."

That got Gale's attention as he turned to her suspiciously. "Do you know something?"

"Nothing of importance. Besides, weren't you the one who said that some personal matters should remain personal?"

"Certainly," Gale said. "But when they are shared so openly, they can hardly be considered wholly personal."

"Well, that clenches it for me," Karlach said. "They're not fucking."

"I would be inclined to disagree, although now, I'm not so sure," Gale said, his brow furrowed in thought.

Lae'zel gave an exasperated huff. "Is it common in this realm to over analysis something as simple as mating?"

"It's extremely common," Wyll said, with a smile. "I take it that means you think they are, mating?"

"Obviously."

"Would you put money on that?" Karlach said.

Lae'zel raised an eyebrow. "A wager?"

"Sure. Ten gold says if we open the door on their room tonight, they're doing something stupid like moving furniture. And if I'm wrong, that's ten gold for you and spit in my eye."

The gith's eyes narrowed, before giving Karlach a stiff nod. "A fair wager. Although, I do not think spitting in your eye in necessary."

"I wouldn't go that far," Wyll said. "Depending what's on the other side of that door, it may be very necessary."

[demonqueenart]

Evie, hi! First of all I want to thank you for spending your time and energy to write all those answers and posts. I'm amazed that you're still able to keep them understanding and kind, which makes it much easier to have this conversation. Thank you!

Your frustration with DnP's lack of reaction is justified and the next thing I'm about to say isn't me coming up with excuses on their behalf or telling you to stop talking about it. It just hurts to see a kind and gentle person like you get upset, so I'm trying to give some consolation, but I'm not too good at that, so sorry in advance if I fuck it up.

Please have patience. Not for their sake, for your own. We won't stop trying to make them acknowledge the racism, but it might take some time. Since their comeback our way of interacting with DnP has been kind of a black box - we talk about stuff on different platforms and then they suddenly mention it. So we know they saw us talking, but we don't know exactly when.

The last 2 weeks have been pure chaos: the leak, the rushed announcement, the wrong dates in the promo, the venues not giving enough info or giving wrong info. After tickets went on sale they only had 4 days before they fucked off to have their just-the-two-of-us-ranch-ingredients vacation.

What I'm trying to say is: their current silence doesn't necessarily mean that they saw us talking and chose to ignore it. Maybe they haven't seen it yet, maybe they are thinking about what to do and what to say. Also, unfortunately white people do need a bit of time to go from "this is an unreasonable attack, I'm not a bad person and they are just haters" to "it's not an attack, it's reasonable criticism and I was being the asshole this whole time". I went through this process myself (and you were the one who helped me understand). Sorry it took me that long.

This isn't me saying it's fine that they haven't addressed anything so far - it's not. Just please don't give up hope yet. They listened to us when it came to Palestine, I'm sure they'll listen now too.

Oh, and ignore all the fuckers who are telling you to either leave or shut up. You make the phandom a better and kinder space. I want you here and many others do too. Plus it's not like anyone gets to gatekeep the community in the first place. You have the right to be here.

From beautiful hellscape with love 💜

Anon 🥹 I felt so cared for because of you. Thank you so much 🫂🫂💞💞 I always want this space to be gentle and kind, even when I’m hurt and angry, I still want to understand where everyone is coming from. I believe that everyone deserves to have their voice being heard. Even when our voices clash and don’t always go together, we can still come to a new understanding, try to mend and build a bridge together. Fighting isn’t always the end of things, it’s when two sides trying to express how unfair the situation is so that they can come together.

And of course, you’re right. They might be quite busy as you’ve pointed out, it doesn’t always mean they’re not going to do anything. I think why I assumed for the worst is because this is very much a new territory for them to cross. They have never brought up their racist remarks, never tried to address or take accountability in things. I’m just afraid it’ll end up just like any other time before.

But having you speaking this to me have reassured that I’m not fighting alone in this. In some way or the other, I have cultivated the most understanding and generous people of all who’re willing to support me during the toughest time, and for that, I’m so grateful. Thank you for reaching out and giving me some consolation to reassure me. Your words will not be wasted :) Thank you so much for everything 🫂🫂💖💖

[teecupangel]

How would the assassins react to meeting amazons?

https://www.washingtonpost.com/science/2019/12/31/amazons-were-long-considered-myth-these-discoveries-show-warrior-women-were-real/

(As usual I’m only adding the main games and I’m counting the Hidden Ones. Also, Basim isn’t here because I haven’t played Mirage yet)

Altaïr:

I mean… he has a thing for women who can fight when you consider Adha and Maria. Not counting the whole “what sorcery is this?” moment of his when he first met Maria which can be seen as him being too surprised by how he had been fooled by Maria into thinking she’s Robert de Sablé, we can safely say that Altaïr would give them the respect he believes they deserve. Of course, if this is post-Altaïr Chronicles + pre-AC1, then he’ll treat them the way he treats everyone, in that same arrogant “I know I’m better than you” kind of way. But, hey, at least, he treats everyone equally.

Ezio:

He’d most definitely be respectful although, if anyone was going to flirt with him, he’ll flirt back. Nothing serious though, he’s most probably there for a mission and he’s old enough to know when to prioritize. After the mission though, well, what he does in his free time is not any of the Brotherhood’s business as long as it doesn’t go against the Creed and the tenets.

Ratonhnhaké:ton:

He does not see why this is surprising. He was raised by a mother who was also a warrior. His grandmother is the leader of their clan. He doesn’t get why others are surprised.

Edward:

After the Mary reveal? Edward is at the realm of “Nothing surprises me anymore about women. I don’t know women, I will never understand women so this? This isn’t surprising me at all” all the while actually being just a bit surprised because of his upbringing. But he’s not showing it.

Arno:

… I mean… They’d remind him of his lost love, that’s for sure. Depending on how much time has passed, this might make Arno maudlin or he would look at them with a small smile that is both fond and also sad. It won’t stop him from doing his mission but he’d definitely feel some kind of bittersweet emotion whenever he thinks they do something Élise would have done.

Evie and Jacob:

Jacob would look at them for a moment before joking, “Looks like we found your homeland, Evie.”

And Evie would immediately counter with a dry “Oh good, I always knew I was adopted.”

Jayadeep is behind them, trying his best not to get swept up by their conversation to say “you’re twins” because he knew that he would lose if he did that.

Bayek:

I mean, Bayek fell in love with Aya. He would give these women the respect they deserve as warriors.

[jennycalendar]

wrote some original fiction look at that!!! have been thinking very loosely about writing the bakery ladies in a modern setting, and a love interest for marigold keeps insisting i give her some attention, so i gave her some today. :)

amazing news for all: this DOES read completely fine without any context! it's a standalone. soooo if u wanna meet my girls but have found the new fandom confusing: meet them now!

~~~

Marigold hadn’t actually been expecting to find anyone else under the table. She’d sort of been hoping for the opposite: a people-free location, somewhere that no one was looking at, where she wouldn’t be surrounded by a thousand incredibly thin people wearing as little as possible because they didn’t have any reason to feel like an overstuffed sausage when they wore a glorified bra to a social engagement. And she wasn’t one of those thin-girls-who-thought-they-were-fat-but-were-really-just-charmingly-curvy, either–she had cellulite, she couldn’t ever find anything in a Target, and stretch marks covered her hips and breasts and upper arms in such a way that low-rise jeans and corset tops wouldn’t have looked half as charming on her, at least in her estimation. 

Not that the size of the people here was what had Marigold under the table–no, that was just what she’d been thinking bitterly about for the first fifteen minutes of the party, as soon as effortlessly beautiful Evie had shown up with equally effortlessly beautiful Amara, both of them looking practically emaciated, both of them wearing the sorts of things that Marigold had sort of thought people only wore for Instagram photos. And absolutely everyone at the party was beautiful, too, of course, with Marigold easily the biggest girl there, never mind that she didn’t know anyone there, because she still didn’t know a single meaningful thing about Evie. 

Evie had swanned off immediately once it was clear that Marigold was “settled in,” or at least “settled in” by her definition, which mostly seemed to mean “physically present.” Marigold suspected that she was off with Amara, or with one of the many boys bearing down on her like they could smell blood in the water. That was the sort of thing that was supposed to concern a sister, wasn’t it? Would have, if it was Marigold getting flirted with at a strange party and Roslin and Lenora lingering reprovingly in the corner–but Roslin and Lenora would never have left her alone at one of these, and Evie had, which was maybe the difference between adoptive and biological sisters. Wonderful to find that out now.

So Marigold had stayed standing there, awkwardly, and made excruciating conversation with people she hadn’t wanted to talk to, because she’d come here to talk to Evie, to spend time with Evie, to learn more about a sister who she’d lost and somehow found again, only to find that the feeling wasn’t mutual and Evie really just wanted to go be social with another party-goer in the host’s bathroom. And she wouldn’t have ducked under the table if not for the fact that one of the party-goers had asked, “Wait, you’re Evie’s sister? That chick she’s always talking about who got, like, murdered or some shit?” at which point Marigold had found herself so blazingly angry at Evie that she’d known she couldn’t talk to anyone at the party anymore.

Hence: table! Not the world’s most normal hiding place, but most of the party-goers were drunk enough that no one was looking very hard for Marigold. She’d seen a flutter of movement under the tablecloth, remembered that one of the hosts had mentioned a cat, decided that mortification was better than fielding even one more question about a story no stranger had any right to (and no sister had any right to tell). So she had ducked under the table, and she had found her eyes locked with eyes so green they seemed to glow in the dark.

Marigold said the only thing she could think of. “Is this seat taken?”

The eyes blinked. The face they belonged to was pale and sallow, possibly East Asian–though of course, Marigold, being something of a mix of things herself, had never been very good at ascertaining where anyone else hailed from, which made guessing probably not a good idea. The girl had long, dark hair, blacker than even the dim light around them, and she was wearing thick-framed black glasses that only added to the large luminescence of her eyes. She didn’t say anything, just tucked her feet in so that Marigold could shift all the way under the table.

Marigold never did well with silences, and she wasn’t really sure how to fill this one. What did the standard social contract have to say about dinner table conversation when one or both party members found themselves under it? “Do you, um.” She smiled awkwardly. “Come here often?”

The small smile that danced across the girl’s face immediately settled Marigold’s nerves. Anyone who smiled at an awful joke like that would probably be a very permissive conversationalist, which Marigold always needed in a conversation partner; her mouth ran on and she wasn’t very good at stopping it when it started. 

“I’m Marigold,” Marigold offered.

The girl raised a hand and waved. She was wearing quite a lot of rings and none of them matched. More than a few were the cheap plastic sort one might get as an arcade prize. She said something, barely a whisper, but the music was loud enough that even a whisper would have been impossible to hear.

“Sorry?”

The girl bit her lip. She leaned forward. At normal volume, she said, “Beetle.”

“...Beetle?” repeated a bemused Marigold.

The girl jerked her thumb towards her chest.

“Oh, you’re Beetle?”

The girl smiled again. She was wearing lipstick, Marigold noted, blood-red, but with a blackish undertone that made her look positively gothic. There were really quite a lot of things to look at when it came to this girl; it felt like Marigold could spend more than just a few centuries looking at her, and still have places she wanted to keep looking. Mostly the eyes. Her lashes were sharp and thin, like spider legs.

“I’m Marigold,” said Marigold, winced, and said, “I think I said that already.”

Beetle moved forward a bit more. Stared at Marigold, unblinking. Marigold felt pleasantly unmoored and incredibly aware of how pretty this girl was. Was this the sort of party where people kissed each other? Marigold was a bit too sober for drunken kissing, but maybe Beetle was drunk and wanted to kiss her. She didn’t smell like alcohol. She smelled…sort of like hand sanitizer. A lot of hand sanitizer. 

Beetle moved back again, still staring, still smiling. Clearly this interaction appeared to be going successfully, at least from her perspective, which was a baffling relief. Marigold was fairly certain all she’d done was say her own name and usurp Beetle’s solitary hiding place.

There was a crash from the living room, followed by raised voices. Marigold flinched involuntarily.

Beetle’s hand rested on her shoulder, feather-light, as if waiting for permission to close her fingers and hold Marigold all the way. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one; Marigold liked very much when people touched her, though she wasn’t always sure how much touching was allowed between people who barely knew each other. She shrugged her shoulder up a bit so that it connected more firmly with Beetle’s hand, which made Beetle smile again, reassuringly, and tighten her grip just enough to make it less of a hovering question.

“It’s a bit loud,” Marigold confessed.

Beetle nodded emphatically. 

“Do you think anyone will notice if we, I don’t know,” Marigold glanced furtively at the moving feet around them, “leave the table and go somewhere else?”

Beetle said, “Oh, I don’t care. I don’t know these people.”

Her voice, while warm, was somehow a lot lower than Marigold had expected–a warm alto voice. This, too, Marigold liked immensely. She let Beetle steer her out from under the table, made brave by Beetle’s hand on her upper arm. A few people by the table stepped back, alarmed and bemused, and Beetle fixed them with a hard look that held nothing of the still, sweet curiosity she’d shown Marigold under the table, which made Marigold like her even more.

Evie was kissing Amara on the sofa. Marigold turned her eyes away, towards Beetle, as they stepped quietly outside.

The street was silent save for the muffled sounds from the party indoors. It was chilly, but pleasantly so; Marigold hadn’t brought a jacket, and didn’t half regret it. She liked the cold. 

Beetle said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these before.”

“So you don’t know these people, but you’ve been here enough times to know I’m new to this?”

“I live upstairs,” said Beetle. “They mostly just invite me to be nice. I came today because it’s November and I have a shit-ton of discount Halloween candy that I didn’t know what to do with, so I was just like, hey, why not give it to a bunch of drunk people and keep it from cluttering up my room forever?”

“Where did you get the discount Halloween candy?”

Beetle smiled. “At the grocery store.”

“Too much to just eat yourself?”

“I have little siblings,” said Beetle. “I was putting together a care package to send to them in California, but I guess I sort of overestimated how much Halloween candy was gonna be in those bags. You know how usually they fill potato chip bags only halfway? Kinda thought the Halloween candy bags would be like that. Or maybe I wasn’t really paying attention. I don’t know.”

Marigold asked, shyly, “Do you still have candy left over, or would we have to go back into the party to get it?”

“I got like seven bags,” said Beetle. “I think I brought four down. I left three upstairs because I felt like I might need them for something.” She shrugged, then smiled. “I guess it’s this?”

“You’re awfully nice, you know,” said Marigold.

“Not a lot of people tell me that,” said Beetle.

“Well, you are! I wouldn’t give my candy away to a stranger, if I had any–”

“Oh, please. You’re not a stranger. We’re under-the-table buddies. That’s basically like the antisocial shut-in version of brothers-in-arms.”

Marigold was opening her mouth to say something else when a car across the street honked its horn, once, twice, three times, with particular urgency. She recognized the sound immediately. Turning slowly, she exhaled through her teeth with exasperated frustration. “Oh, hold on,” she said, and crossed the street.

“No no no don’t come over here!” shrieked Roslin from the front seat. “We’re not here! We’re–Mom, why would you do that?!”

Thea said, “Bunny, did Evie leave you at that party by yourself? I keep saying–”

“Did you follow me here?!” Marigold demanded. 

“We came along to try to stop her,” said Lenora, who was sitting in the backseat with Sofie in her lap. She added, somewhat redundantly, “Didn’t work.”

Sofie babbled. Marigold said, “You brought Sofie?! It’s well past her bedtime! And you know I’ve been trying to get her on that regular sleep schedule–”

“Couldn’t find a babysitter,” said Thea.

“One of you could have stayed home! I told you,” Marigold continued indignantly, “I said it was fine, and it is, and I don’t need some sort of police escort if I want to go and spend some time with my sister–”

“I don’t like the look of some of the people that girl trusts,” said Thea ominously.

“You don’t like the look of anyone, Mommy,” said Marigold, even though she did actually agree. “Butt out.”

“Will you need a ride home?” said Thea. “Don’t see Evie round.”

Marigold had, in fact, come to the party with Evie, and her phone was still the old flip phone that Thea had gotten all of them because Thea didn’t believe in smartphones, so calling an Uber wasn’t really an option for her in the same way that it would have been were her mother, oh, remotely fucking normal about anything. But the thing about Thea was that because Marigold couldn’t call an Uber, Thea would also do things like this, which, annoyingly, pretty much balanced things out.

She said, “You came to give me a ride home?”

“Case you needed one,” said Thea. “Parties run late for girls your age. And you don’t go to these things often.”

Marigold said awkwardly, “Well, I’m–sort of going to go get Halloween candy from this girl’s apartment?”

Lenora sat up straighter, staring incredulously. Roslin said, “Bunny, how are you even a real person. Oh my god. She’s literally going to kidnap you.”

“I am twenty years old,” said Marigold.

“They’re going to–” Roslin was starting to laugh. “They’re going to have to put your face on the fucking milk cartons. You’re going to be the first ever college student to get kidnapped the same way they get kindergarteners. You would literally get into an unmarked van for candy. This is why we’ve gotta drive out with the baby at butt o’clock in the morning and make sure you’re not getting yourself roofied or something!”

Thea stiffened. Marigold said, “Rosie, do not say roofied in front of Mom?”

“You’re the one saying I’m going to get Halloween candy from this girl’s apartment in front of Mom!”

Marigold glanced over her shoulder. Beetle was standing across the street. The March family was pretty historically good at being really loud for no reason, which meant that there was a less-than-zero chance she’d heard all of that, even with the distance. “Look, just–wait in the car, I’ll call you,” she said.

“Not even slightly,” said Thea. “You’ll get the candy and you’ll come home.”

“I am twenty years old! Mom–”

“You’ve got class in the morning and you’re not taking the train before it’s light out, which you’ll have to do to get to campus on time. We’ll wait out here to drive you home.”

“God,” said Marigold, “fine,” even though she wasn’t really all that mad and they all knew it. Having a family who drove across town just to make sure you got home safe wasn’t always a guarantee. She leaned in through the open window and pressed a firm kiss to Thea’s cheek. “I love you, mommy.”

“My bunny,” said Thea. Her hand passed gently over Marigold’s hair. “Evie been good to you?”

Marigold didn’t really want to answer that question. She squeezed Thea’s hand and hoped that this would count as a response. 

Lenora said, “If she turns out to be a total bitch, we’ll stab her.”

“Do not talk about stabbing in front of the baby,” said Marigold immediately. She turned back towards the lit-up house and the too-loud music, picking up the pace. 

Beetle was still standing there, waiting. She said, “Cute family!” in a tone of voice that was decisively amused without being mocking, which Marigold liked. 

“They brought the baby out at whatever the fuck time it is,” said Marigold tiredly, “just to make sure I was fine, which I am. You’re not going to, like, take me up to your apartment and murder me with your Halloween candy, right?”

“I’m thinking of calling it Death By Chocolate,” said Beetle, straight-faced. Marigold snorted. “Bummer you’ve gotta go, though. Kinda felt like we should get to know each other.”

“Really?” said Marigold. Her heart flipped over.

Beetle smiled, that eerie, lovely smile, and said, “You ever just feel like maybe you’re supposed to know someone?”

Yes. No. Sort of. Marigold had felt that way about Thea, Roslin, Lenora, very much Sofie, but it hadn’t felt like this. “You could be wrong,” she said, carefully.

“Okay, yeah, I could be,” Beetle gamely agreed, turning on her heel to head back towards the house. Marigold followed. “Tell me about yourself.”

They walked through the front garden, everything halfway wet the way it always was on that kind of a cold November night. Beetle didn’t take the front door in, instead weaving carefully towards the side of the house and a rickety set of stairs leading up to an upstairs apartment. Plants, Marigold noticed: she had a whole bunch of plants in pots on the landing outside the apartment, which felt a lot like their home and all the plants Ros was always fussing over. Maybe that was one of those supposed-to-know-her feelings right there. 

“Well, I’m Marigold,” she said. “Marigold Baker. I mean, technically Marigold Riverborn, but that’s way too long a story to tell this early in the relationship, probably, so let’s just say Marigold Baker for now. I’m in culinary school—”

“Marigold Baker in culinary school?” said Beetle—again, laughing, but without any malice to it. “I’m kind of obsessed with you already. Keep going.”

Marigold grinned at her shoes, darting her eyes back up as they climbed the stairs. Beetle’s miniskirt rode up a little and showed off a rip in her fishnets, higher up her thigh. “I’m in culinary school,” she continued, “because I want to be a pastry chef, like, licensed and everything. My mom Thea runs a body shop and I think it would be super great if I could figure out a way to make it a body shop that also serves cupcakes. We kind of have to look into all the different business things we’d have to do for that? And Thea’s money’s still tied up in the divorce, which is—so not something I’m supposed to be talking about. Do not tell her I said anything.”

“Sure,” said Beetle, mouth twitching. “I kind of haven’t met your mom, so I feel like that might not be too hard?”

“Well, if we’re supposed to know each other and you’re obsessed with me, it stands to reason that you will meet my family,” Marigold pointed out, “them being my beating heart and all.”

“Oh,” said Beetle, “you’re one of those family-is-everything girls! Kinda dig it.”

What a complicated sentence. “I’m…adopted,” said Marigold carefully; it was not the whole story, but it was as much as she gave out. “As are my sisters. So, yes, they all mean a lot to me. We sort of chose each other.”

Beetle tilted her head thoughtfully. “Neato,” she finally said.

“What about you?” Marigold asked. “Is family everything?”

Beetle’s easy smile flickered. She said, “I’ve got a brother and a sister and I send them a shit-ton of candy whenever I can, like I said.”

Marigold knew the cadence of a half-truth. She didn’t press—just watched Beetle unlock the door.

The apartment was wallpapered, and poorly, in an intricate black-and-emerald pattern that made the space feel even darker than it probably was. Beetle turned on the lights to reveal that the walls were covered in photo frames. “Bugs,” she said cheerfully.

Marigold scanned the walls, a fascinated smile stealing across her face. Every framed photo was of a different insect—some of them drawings, some photographs, some scientific diagrams, all with a small identifying label attached to the frame. “Beetle!” she said, delighted.

“Yeah, it’s actually Beatrice, but Beetle feels like a better opening statement,” Beetle supplied. “Makes people go oh, okay, all the bugs make total sense, rather than whoa, that chick’s got so many bugs in her house! Is Marigold your name, or is it just ‘cause, you know, the hair?”

Marigold twined a red curl cheerfully around her finger. “Marigold is really my name!” she assured Beetle.

“Does anyone ever call you anything else?”

“Mari, usually.”

“How do you feel about Goldie?” Marigold’s nose crinkled. Beetle threw up her hands and said, “Mari it is. Or, I don’t know, what about Riri?”

Marigold felt a slimy shudder run through her. Face perfectly composed, she said, “My sister’s boyfriend calls her Riri. So.”

“Oh, which sister?” said Beetle with interest.

“...The one who invited me to this party,” said Marigold.

Beetle waited. When Marigold did not supply any further information, she said, with a note of friendly and deliberate finality, “Sounds complicated,” and moved further into the apartment. “Do you have, I don’t know, an Instagram or something? I kinda want to send you this artist I follow. I feel like you might really like her work.”

“...No,” said Marigold awkwardly. “My mom’s sort of got a whole Luddite thing going on. Like, right down to all the machinery-smashing.”

Beetle said, “You know the Luddites were just trying to go for job security, right? Not the worst thing to have happening.”

Marigold grinned a bit. “My mom is big on job security,” she agreed. “And also fucking up computers.”

“You should get an Instagram.”

“I use my sister’s. I’ll give you hers.”

“Your party sister?”

“No,” Marigold giggled, mostly because she wasn’t sure what else to do, “the sister in the car. Um, one of them. Roslin.”

Beetle was rummaging in a cabinet. She pulled out a large orange bag, handing it to Marigold, and said, “Take it. No razor blades, swear to God.”

Marigold opened the bag and laughed out loud. There wasn’t a trace of any name-brand candy—rather, the bag was full of themed chocolate, milk and dark and white chocolate insects in a variety of shapes and sizes. “You’ve got a really consistent aesthetic!” she observed. “So you just send a whole bunch of chocolate bugs to your siblings, usually?”

“Nah, they get the name-brand stuff,” said Beetle. “This candy’s what I bring out for the cute girls.”

Marigold blinked, nervously, and kept her smile on her face, not entirely certain what to say next. An affirmation, possibly? It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been considering it, only that as soon as it was on the table, it felt objectively terrifying. She wondered if her reticence would be read the wrong way and the candy would be put back in the cabinet. She hoped it wouldn’t.

Beetle’s smile softened a little and she ducked her head. “But if you want the name-brand candy,” she started.

“Probably it would be a bit easier to transport,” said Marigold awkwardly. “This is a full bag of unwrapped chocolate, and I really don’t want to take all of your good bugs home.”

“A good bug going with a good bug,” said Beetle, solemnly.

“I have no idea what that means.”

Beetle took the orange bag away and handed Marigold a fun-sized bag of Snickers bars. She said, “It’s seriously fucked up that I don’t have a party mix bag on me; this thing is depressingly uniform. Oh, fuck, are you allergic to nuts?”

Marigold shook her head.

“God. Good. Should have asked about food allergies before I just started handing you shit.” Beetle smiled again, self-deprecatingly. “Snickers okay? I might have some other stuff if you wanna see.”

Marigold didn’t care one way or the other. She liked this beautiful, strange liminal space she’d stepped into, where she was suddenly an almost-grown-up holding a bag of Halloween candy with a new friend who thought she was pretty. She wanted to stay in it a bit longer.

“What do you have?” she asked.

Beetle turned back towards the cabinet. “Uh, Three Musketeers, Butterfingers, and this one’s kinda polarizing, but a whole bunch of York peppermint pies.”

“What’s polarizing about peppermint?”

“I knew this guy who said it was like eating a bunch of toothpaste. Almost put me off it for a year or two before I forgot I totally love eating toothpaste.” Beetle shifted the bag down. “Is that a yes to the peppermint?”

“Norie loves peppermint,” said Marigold.

“Okay, but they’re for you. Do you like peppermint?”

Marigold blushed, and smiled again. “...Yes to the peppermint.”

“And because I’m kinda thinking maybe you end up giving all of them to Norie,” said Beetle, “because you’ve got that kinda sparkly-sweet thing going on, I’m going to give you the Three Musketeers too and say those are for your mom and your sisters, and the peppermint’s literally just for you.” She considered. “Two are for Norie, who I’m guessing is…your other sister?”

“My other sister!” Marigold brightly confirmed.

“So which one brought you to the party?”

Marigold thought about Evie, almost certainly throwing herself at someone who wasn’t her insufferably slimy boyfriend, and her jaw clenched.

Beetle didn’t ask again. “That enough candy for you?”

“Almost too much!” said Marigold.

“No such thing as too much candy,” said Beetle firmly. “At least not if you’re starting from zero. I’m starting from seven bags; I’ve gotta offload some of this shit.” She took a handful from the orange bag, pressing a collection of half-melted bugs into Marigold’s hand. “Take at least a few. Y’know, as, like, a token of my affection, or whatever.”

She was blushing a little, which showed up really easily on her pale face. Marigold felt a sense of profound satisfaction that her own golden-brown skin didn’t redden half as visibly. “Thanks for the beetles, Beetle,” she said, which made them both smile. “Can you actually hold onto them for a second, though? I’m going to give you—”

“Your sister’s Instagram?”

Smooth and sweet, Marigold said, “My number.”

“Oh, shit, okay!” said Beetle. Her blush deepened and she smiled in a way that was much more silly and excited. “Sure! But I do want your sister’s Insta too, because that thing in your pocket is super obviously a flip phone, and I’m one of those long texters.”

“I’ll just make an Instagram and text you,” said Marigold. “The handle is—”

“—no, man, you gotta check to see if it’s available before you—”

“Marigold underscore Baker underscore Tasty underscore Pastry underscore Nature apostrophe S no space Masterpiece.”

Beetle bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh, and said, “Dude, that is not gonna work with the character limit. Just give me your sister’s for now so we don’t have to call each other like old people.”

Marigold pressed the melting chocolate into Beetle’s hands. It felt sort of like a kiss, somehow—wet and sticky and silly. Full of warm honesty. There was a magnetic whiteboard on the fridge, a schedule written out in neat handwriting. “Is it okay if I—”

“Go ahead, man!”

Marigold wrote her phone number, and Roslin’s Instagram underneath, then added, in parentheses, Marigold Baker the Party Girl, with a little heart next to it. She liked the thought of existing as Marigold Baker the Party Girl on someone’s fridge. She wondered if Beetle would do what she’d do were their positions reversed, and just never erase it, letting the erasable marker dry into that permanent foreverness that was the worst thing ever to clean. 

Beetle said, “Okay, cool. Tell your sister I’m gonna text her and it’s gonna be about you.”

“Ominous,” said Marigold. “I hope you say nice things.”

“No, dude, I’m gonna text her to talk to you. We’re not starting a group chat about you when there’s still so much stuff I don’t know about Mystery Marigold. Like, okay, what’s your favorite color?”

“Green,” said Marigold.

“Don’t tell me now!” said Beetle. She handed Marigold the chocolate back. “You go have a nice class tomorrow, okay? Get down there before your family thinks I killed you.”

“I don’t think I’d mind if you did,” said Marigold. “Bug girl.”

“Flower girl,” Beetle said, like they’d said goodbye like this forever. Maybe they really were supposed to get to know each other. 

~~~

Thea had put on “Baby Shark” to try and get Sofie to go to sleep, which wasn’t working, because whenever Sofie saw Marigold, she’d stay stubbornly awake until Marigold came back to rock her to sleep. Under most normal circumstances, because Sofie was the kind of baby whose idiosyncrasies seemed perfectly designed to psychologically torment her caregivers, “Baby Shark” would put Sofie perfectly to sleep so long as it was played exactly fifteen times in a row, but they’d hit seventeen and Sofie was still babbling half-coherent nonsense to an exhausted-looking Lenora, who kept trying to hand her off to Roslin.

Marigold hurried over to the car. Sofie said, “Mama!”

“We’re not doing that, she’s twenty,” said Thea, but Sofie was already making grabby hands towards Marigold, who scooped her up in a flurry of kisses. 

Roslin said, “Are you trying to reason with the baby?”

“The baby is a little terrorist who cannot be reasoned with,” said Lenora. “We need to get home so I can play first-person shooters and not listen to Baby Shark, ever again.”

Thea said, “Get in the back, bunny. How was the party?”

Marigold wasn’t sure how to tell them all about Beetle. She didn’t know if she wanted to. She sort of had to tell them about some of it, though, so she said instead, “Rosie, it’s okay that I gave someone your Insta, right? She wanted mine—”

“Dude, make your own,” said Roslin. “How many times is this gonna have to happen?”

“No one needs to be on social media,” said Thea immediately.

“Okay, well, Mommy, I am twenty-five, you don’t get to take away my phone,” said Roslin. “This would not be a problem if you just got, like, a MacBook or something. Whatever you have in your office is legitimately evil.”

“I bought a computer,” said Thea stubbornly. “I have a computer. I don’t see the problem.”

“That thing has to be from, like, the Revolutionary War!”

Marigold settled into the backseat with Sofie, resting her cheek against Lenora’s shoulder. She said, “Actually, there weren’t computers in the Revolutionary War—”

“Do not start this at like one in the morning.”

“You started it at like one in the morning.” Marigold buckled Sofie back into her car seat.

“Defending you! Do you want Mom to start burning laptops in the backyard again?”

“That was out of context,” said Thea immediately. “And mostly an accident, anyway. Didn’t realize lithium did that.” She started the car. “We turning off Baby Shark now?”

“No, Sofie likes it,” said Marigold.

“YES,” said Lenora. “Sofie’s awake anyway, Mari—”

Sofie had fallen asleep. 

“See, you have to leave it on now,” said Marigold, “she will wake up if you turn it off. We all know this.”

“Torment nightmare torture baby,” said Roslin affectionately. “You know sometimes it starts to make me sleepy when I listen to it? Something about the baby shark doo doo do do do do—”

“I will kill you if you start singing it, Roslin, it’s bad enough that we have it on without—”

“Doo doo do do—”

Thea said, “Quiet, I need to make this turn!”

Marigold cuddled into Lenora’s shoulder again. Lenora said, “Your baby is ruining our life.”

“Stop calling Sofie her baby,” said Thea. “Mari is too young to be raising a kid.”

“I’m twenty!” said Marigold.

“You’re a baby,” said Roslin. Her eyes lit up. “Baby Mari doo do do—”

Lenora said, “I am going to murder you, Roslin. I am going to kill you dead.”

“No murder until I’m done getting onto the highway,” said Thea, eyes on the road.

The girls quieted. Marigold cuddled into Lenora until Lenora leaned forward and towards her, letting Marigold use her as an all-the-way pillow. “Good party?” Lenora asked quietly.

Marigold didn’t answer. She wondered whether Evie would even notice she was gone.

“You’ll see her on her Monday shift,” Lenora said. “You can catch up with her then, if she wasn’t—I mean, you know, if she got. Distracted, or something.”

Marigold said, “It was a good party,” and realized that she did actually mean it. “I…met someone.”

“Oh, shit!” said Roslin from the front seat. “Goth Halloween candy chick does, like, bug taxidermy?”

“Roslin, do not stalk her Instagram!” yelped Marigold. “Just—just give me your phone! Give me your phone so I can—”

“I AM MERGING!” said Thea. “YOU ALL NEED TO FUCKING SHUT UP!”

Sofie squirmed happily and continued to sleep. Marigold was fairly certain it would be six more plays of Baby Shark before they were in the clear. 

~~~

beetlenecromancer: hi marigolds sister lol

beetlenecromancer: can u send me her insta when u have it? she said she’d make one

strawbrosie33: hey man if you fuck up my sister i’m going to use norie’s poison kit to poison you

strawbrosie33: HI THIS IS MARIGOLD

strawbrosie33: SORRY

strawbrosie33: SHEHS TRYINGG TO GBRAJB THE POHNE BACKC

beetlenecromancer: lmao

beetlenecromancer: nw

strawbrosie33: I AM ROSLIN I TRIUMPH

strawbrosie33: im so serious though bro i will literally kill you she is so fucking baby. you have no idea

strawbrosie33: you’ve known her for like five minutes we’ve known her forever she is THE BABIEST

strawbrosie33: Hi this is Marigold again I am So So So Sorry 

beetlenecromancer: dude you need a smartphone so bad this is so dire for you

[grokebaby]

[Present day]

The "Case"

"Nyevilicus, we need to talk." Mewmew said, entering the room. Something about ms presence held a seriousness that Evie didn't like, but alas. It must be important if ms bothering-err interacting with them. Truth be told, Mewmew and Evilicus had been floating quite far from each other lately despite living in the same house. After Evilicus' return, and the initial confrontation it brought, things had sort of settled.

"Very well.. I'm listening." they said, reserved, sitting down. The kitchen was dim with the orange of sunset coming through the cracks in the curtains. Dusk being one of the most frequent times they happened to interact at all, seeing their differences in daily rhythm. That, or their differences of native planets..

"So, please understand that iyam coming to you about this with good intentions, I only want what's the best for everyone, alright? Please hear me out til I've finished speaking. I have nyour best interest in mind as well." Mewmew started prefacing ms future statement, and suddenly it all felt heaps more frightening than before. Evie will have to prepare to swallow more now. Perhaps it was about time, after some of the revelations they'd had earlier.. Maybe it'll be good. But it'll certainly sting.

"Okay.. I'm ready, then.."

"Alright, good. Good! Um." Mewmew tapped ms paws on the table. Mews expression became sort of.. Gentler. Something about it made Evie's stomach drop, and they couldn't explain why. They must've done something wrong. "So, I wanted to just say that if you ever need.. Support, for dealing with your emotions, or.. Ways to manage them constructively.." Oh, now it's just embarrassing. They shrunk further into their armor, but kept listening nonetheless.

"Please, just let me know. Okay? I've dealt with these things too, and it.. It'll help you feel better too! I assure you. I'm nyat here to judge you, I'm not enrolled in the alliance, okay, everything here is just everyday business. Nyalright?" Mewmew concluded, ears slightly drawn back. Was that a good sign? It feels like ms holding something back.

Evilicus only nodded.

Mewmew seemed relieved. To some extent.. "Alright. Alright, good! Thank nya for listening. I'm proud of you. Just, please leave the livestock alone, it's very important to the humans living here."

...

......

".. What?"

"Mrrp?"

"What do you. What livestock? You mean earthly animals?"

Mewmew looked like m braced mself for something for a second, as if m wanted to sigh. "Nyou.. Know what I'm talking about.."

There was an increasing silence between them, as they looked between each other. Evilicus glanced around the room, as if the answers would magically spawn out of something. Anything?

".. What?"

"...."

"....."

"Evilicus." Mewmew said, though firmly, now with increasing emotion in ms voice. Evie couldn't really tell what it was, but hoped not anger, nor disappointment. Still reeling from the sudden comeuppance of unknown conversation topics, Evilicus scratched their face. "I uhm.. I really don't know what you're talking about here.. S..sorry.." their voice grew smaller and smaller towards the end. Mewmew shot them a look, as if in disbelief, although parts of it had to be some form of discomfort. "Ih-"

Mew took a breath in. "The farmers in this town have reported.. Increasing cases where their livestock - like, sheep, cows.. Have been.. Killed. They suspected wild nyanimals at first, but.. The livestock wasn't really eaten that much and.." Mew grew uncomfortable.

".. And?"

"And the cases were just starting to look more.. Like.. Brutalized. And it-" Mew breathed out heavily, fidgeting. "It doesn't look like anything a wild animal could do. Anymore.." m concluded, now facing Evilicus razor sharply in the eyes. "I wanted to come to you about this.. Fairly. In a fair manner. Which is why I brought up the-the managing of feewings, and-"

"And so, wait, you think.. You think I did this?" Evilicus put their hand on the table, their whole presence tense.

"-Out of anger, or vengeance maybe, something, I don't know but we can talk about it-"

"I did not do that. What reason do I have to take my emotions out on animals? Nor the townspeople?? And on another note, I've barely left this house since coming back!" Evilicus stood up from their chair, blood racing under their skin. They could hear it clearly, echoing off the metal. Mewmew stood up as well, partway, putting ms paws up defensively. As if pacifying a frightened animal.

"I said we can talk about this, Villy, if you did do it-"

"I DIDN'T."

Silence fell between them once again. Oh, this is way worse than what they could've anticipated. Doing something wrong and being told about it gently? Sure. But hearing something bad happened and immediately assuming blame on Evilicus themself? Decrepid.

It's not that Mewmew wouldn't be valid to doubt the moral of their actions - it's plenty understandable. No, what's terrifying about this situation is that it's just plausible enough to blame on Evilicus. And knowing their history, they really, Really don't have enough alibi to prove otherwise.

A cruel twist of fate.

It's almost.. Too convenient. Isn't it.

Evilicus swallowed.

"Look, I know you don't have.. Much, to trust me on my word yet," their voice trembled, heat flashing their forehead. "But I swear.. I've not left this house. I've not spoken to anyone but you. Nor seen anyone. But you. Ever since I returned." they continued, feverishly, feeling the seconds tick by, feeling how their dark and dingy heart was now resting soft, still beating, on Mewmews paws. Their only grace, only mercy, only other person in this cosmos right now.

And they cannot lose it.

Mewmew looked between their eyes, as if searching - desperately, for something. For a shred of trust. For a bit of patience within mew. To believe this, and walk the path m set on when deciding to do all this for Evilicus at all.

Those few seconds were the longest of their life.

Mew sighed. "Alright.. I believe you. I'm sorry. It's just.. It worried me, and I.. Sorry." Mew blinked a few times, leaning back on ms chair. And it's no wonder mew seemed defeated by this, because if they chose to believe Evilicus instead of the rest of the scene, they'd both have to grapple with the next question.

Who's doing this?

[requiescat-in-pace-bastardo]

Codextober Day 8: Discovery

Somewhere in the Gray, the Assassins sat together talking. They're having a nice conversation today. For once I wasn't conversations about loss or the bad things they had experienced because of their jobs, but it was nice things. They talked about their best discoveries and the things that they remembered and loved the most that they saw on their travels.

"The most beautiful thing I saw on my travels was my wife, Sofia. So I must admit there were many pretty women I saw. Cristina was among them. Italia has the most beautiful women." Ezio said. Jacob laughed. He was grinning at the older Assassin.

"Ah yes! The women," the younger man teased. "Anything else? What about that Leonardo guy you talk about?"

"Shut up, Jacob! Leonardo and I are just friends. What was the best thing you saw on your travels, young man?" The Italian Assassin asked. Jacob thought for a moment. He then got a big grin on his face.

"My best discovery was trains! We actually used one for the hideout! Evie thought it was a really dumb idea, but I won that round." Jacob said. "I think a portable hideout is genius!"

"You should see some of the stuff I brought back from the Caribbean. Weapons, daggers, gold, and a whole bunch of other fun toys. Those were the best things I found." Edward added. Connor nodded.

"I did find some interesting gadgets in America, but I much prefer the tools of my people like my tomahawk and bow," Connor added. "I think the best thing I found was family in the form of my mentor."

"I agree. I never had the best childhood, so finding my friends, Shaun and Rebecca, felt like having a new family." Desmond said. Eivor lifted her mug.

"I can agree with that. To the greatest treasure: companionship!!" She declared as she drank her ale. The other Assassins agreed and took shots. At the end of the day, the greatest treasure for many of the Assassins were those bonds they had made with their comrades.

[hannahssimblr]

At the tail end of the day as the crowds thin out and the shops begin to close their shutters I suggest that it’s time to get back on the road. The girls grumble about it. There is still heat in the sun and while we were all having a nice conversation on the grass, I think it'd be best to get home before I’m worn out and too tired to drive. It’s been a long day already, as fun as it's been.

“Well, fine,” Jen struggles to her feet, “but I need to find a toilet before I go anywhere.”

“You should have a posh wee then,” I say, “We should all go.”

Years ago I learned the power of strolling into an establishment with the confidence of someone who deserves to be there, and because the toilets in five star hotels are better than the ones you have to pay fifty cent to use in the shopping centre across the road, those are the ones we prefer to use.

The strategy is so simple. With enough blind confidence once can stride right into the Shelbourne Hotel, past the doorman with his little top hat on him, use their toilets and their thick paper hand towels and then leave like a bandit. It turns the act of doing a piss into something with all the dangerous excitement of a bank heist. 

Evie doesn’t know what a posh wee is yet, so we decide it's best to show her. So with her hand clasped in Jen’s we hurry down the road, and slow to a casual stroll as we ascend the steps of the hotel.

I know the Shelbourne, I’ve been here enough times especially for the toilets, and other times to have awkward lunch with my maternal grandmother who would always make sure to tell me I was scruffy and make comments about how my sister was badly behaved for asking for crayons at the table. There was a family wedding here once too, of some cousin or something, at which I stuck my arm into the chocolate fountain and got it all over my sleeve. My dad had to strip me off in the men's bathroom so we could wash my shirt in the sink in front of the old guys using the urinals. 

Evie evidently has no history with this place. For a few stunned seconds she stands in the centre of the foyer, her body reflected in the gleaming marble floor and stares, and stares and stares at the chandeliers, the gilded mirrors, the extravagant bouquets of flowers with her mouth open in a little o, frozen with the shock of the luxury. 

“Evie,” Jen says gently, “The toilets are this way.”

“Oh, okay,” she lands back on earth, “I’m coming.”

“Wait until you feel their paper towels,” Jen holds the door open for Evie as they slip inside the ladies room, “I've a feeling they’ll change your life.”

They’re a while in there, so while I wait I wander around the hotel a bit. I peek into the dining room where what seems like hundreds of the country's most elderly are seated for dinner, then the lounge, where a jazz band is setting up, and finally I wander up the stairs and start opening and closing various doors just to see what’s behind them. It’s mainly empty conference rooms containing nothing remotely exciting whatsoever.

Until, on the opposite side of the landing, I spot a woman in a red dress coming through a set of double doors. Behind her the ballroom is alive with lights, music, clinking glassware and then it's all gone again behind the sweep of a door.

The girls are finishing up their posh wee as I'm coming back down the stairs, then, pausing at the bottom I blurt out “I found something.”

Jen scrunches up her face, “Oh God.” She follows me anyway, Evie in tow and trailing behind me as I dash back to the landing, following that muffled sound of music all the way to the ballroom doors. 

I ease one door open with my shoulder and let a shaft of light leak out onto the carpet. 

Evie’s eyes widen, “Wha-”

I shush her sharply, “Don’t ask, just come in,” I step aside and usher them in ahead of me, then we are standing inside witnessing the full spectrum of the extravagance, disco lights thrown over their faces, Evie's, stunned, Jen's miffed. She grabs my arm and hisses at me, “Jude! This is someone’s wedding party.” As if I somehow didn't know it already.

“Don’t worry about it,” I stroll over to a table of champagne and snatch two glasses for them, contemplating, only as a man in a crisp tailored suit eyes me disdainfully, that I might be pushing the whole ‘you can get away with anything if you’re confident enough’ thing a step too far. Oh well, I’ll just see how long it takes to get kicked out. 

I pass the glasses to the girls, and when a smartly dressed, penguin of a waiter with a plate of vol au vents comes close enough for me to take one in each hand. I might as well enjoy something free. I stuff them into my mouth one after the other like a starving dog, not sure if I even really taste them.  

“Are you supposed to be here?” Some middle aged woman says to me, getting way too close. 

“Yeah,” I reply, and stare back at her until she goes away. 

After wiping pastry crumbs off my face, I approach Evie, who has both hands on the stem of her champagne flute, gazing around the room with big inquisitive eyes. 

“What do you think?”

“A bit fancy, the whole thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

A smile, “The champagne is really nice though.”

“Is it?” I catch myself hoping that she offers me a sip from her glass, even after the long, intensive and graphic discussion I had with my dad about what would happen to me and my car if I ever got behind the wheel after drinking. Still, the bubbles in the glass rise so enticingly to the surface.

“Do you feel weird being here?” I ask her.

“Like, in the wrong outfit?”

“I suppose.”

She raises one shoulder in a shrug, “Maybe, it’s mostly funny though, isn’t it?”

“I would agree.”

“I'm surprised we've not been chucked out.”

“We will be, soon.”

The band kicks off into a cover of an Elvis song that aunt Maureen used to blast in the kitchen when she was doing a deep clean. With all of the fancy people in their finest outfits swaying unrhythmically on the dance floor, I decide that what would make the situation much funnier is if we were there among them, shorts and t-shirts and dirty white runners. 

“Where’s Jen? Jen!” I pull her away from a conversation she’s having with an old woman who seems confused about her appearance, “You’re dancing with me now.”

“Are you drunk? You’re hardly drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. Hey! You too,” and with a hand on Evie’s shoulder I march her onto the dancefloor. She’s giggling the whole way. 

“Wait, wait,” she leaves her glass onto a table and I pick it up for one sip, that’s all. She was right, it’s really nice champagne.

“Are you making me dance?”

“Shh, yes, wouldn’t you like to say that you danced in the ballroom of the Shelbourne?”

“Yeah I’ll call my mother straight away and tell her the good news. She'll be so proud of me.”

“Do you like Elvis?” holding both of her hands in mine I spin her in a wild circle, accidentally bumping her into someone else, and she gasps, “sorry! Sorry! That was an accident!” Then to me, “I don’t know, I haven’t decided.”

“If you like Elvis?” I didn’t really intend to dance with her, but here we are. I don't let go.

“I don’t think about him in terms of like or dislike, or whatever. He’s just… himself, like.”

“Suppose he is, yeah.”

We are dancing with so little grace that it ought to be humiliating, yet she’s smiling with delight at the silliness of this moment, and the coloured lights bounce over her face in a way that would be so nice to paint. I crash her into someone else, then immediately leap backwards onto some man’s foot.

“Sorry, man.”

“Excuse me, are you even supposed to be here?”

“I'm a cousin.”

The chorus kicks in and I sing it at Evie with tone deaf enthusiasm in my best Elvis voice, “Your kisses lift me higher, like the sweet song of a choir, uh huh! You light my morning sky burnin’ luh-uh-uve.”

I catch her eye the moment that her laugh fades and her face takes on a different look, one I've recognised in other people, and for one fraction of a second as I look back my brain tries to formulate a thought, or at least the beginning of one.

If I wanted to, I could-

Nope. Not interested.

I release her immediately and whirl around to dance with Jen instead.

“What's wrong with you?” She says the moment she sees my face.

“Me? Nothing. What's wrong with you?”

“I'm fine. Why do you look liked you've stopped having fun all of a sudden?”

“I haven't at all.”

“Then why are you looking all intense?”

“Hm? Who's intense?”

“You!”

“Dunno, Jen, too many questions,” I attempt to dip her but she resists with a squeal, and thankfully, it's just about enough to distract her.

From nothing, that is. Because nothing is happening. Nobody is intense except the guy on stage, singing Elvis like his life depends on it, and I am being completely normal.

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