#it truly is my finest work and it could be canon too!

[mraprilfools]

Word Count: 5.1k

Rating: M Pairing: Queer-Platonic Alastor/Vox

CW/TW: Canon-typical violence

Summary: Alastor and Vox decide to go see a new play outside town! They pick up some company along the way. Full story under the cut

“The entertainment district has many fine theaters overflowing with talent. Men and women of all ages putting their hearts and souls into these pitiful distractions. All meant to keep the lowly and miserable from realizing how worthless their lives truly are. But the finest of all lies outside our dear corner of hell and upon the lofty hills of The Upper District! If one is to see art, one ought to not settle for fine or passable! But the divine-- don’t you think?” An intermingling of thick static spoke each word as grandly as if on broadcast in that instant. A golden crescent smile shone even in the darkness of the moving car, matching with the menacing red of his eyes.

Competing with Vox’s natural luminosity, the sphere of their luminous influence melted into a gentle violet. Always pushing and pulling; meeting together in a violet horizon. One claw was settled on the wheel, and the boxy frame of Vox’s remained facing forward so all Alastor could see was the smooth matte surface. The car crawled to a stop in one of the more isolated corners of the city.

Exhaustion marked Vox’s expression-- he had always given into Alastor’s demands however lofty. But when you passed by twenty different theaters because he had to see Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde performed by a certain troupe it felt exhausting. But who was he kidding? He always acquiesced.

“And that’s why we got to take the car tonight. It’s a thirty-minute walk otherwise. Look, it’s just a quick stop to give Rosie her candied hearts and we’ll head straight there.” Vox’s claw turned upward as he spoke, only looking at the man he was speaking to when the engine shut off. “Besides, if I let my baby sit in the garage for too long the battery will die.”

Parking space in Cannibal Town was always left wanting. They had to settle for a small lot behind a small shopping strip that mainly was used to load and unload products. These isolated corners always had a way of bringing out the sinners driven insane by their immortality. And these roads were always filled with cannibals. Hungry for the meals sitting inside a tin and glass box. Thankfully, Alastor’s fearsome presence would usually scare them off, which made him the car babysitter tonight. Much to his chagrin.

“It’s a lovely night! Not a single cloud in the sky, the evening’s a beautiful shade of scarlet, and the temperature is positively mild. Your rust-- vehicle’s weak battery is truly none of my concern.”

As tempting as it was to disparage the tin coffin he was dragged into, this car was the first thing Vox scrimped and saved and fawned over. The memory of how excited he was to show it to Alastor first. And their first drive was still one of his fondest memories. Especially the slaughter after! So Alastor couldn’t disparage it-- completely. Not that Vox wasn’t waiting for it with squinted distrustful eyes.

For his audacity, Alastor reached out and poked one of Vox’s antennae. A directed radio signal cut and disturbed the display on his head. Starting first with his voice cutting out. “AL-GAAh-- Kkzrrrzshhhhhhhh----”, Then graduating to a multi-colored block that had written in large letters: No Signal. At one point Vox had altered the display to say, ‘Fuck you Alastor’ but that only made him more inclined to see it so Vox quickly changed that back.

Hands returned to his lap, Alastor waited with a smile like the cat who caught the canary. He had to look his most smug when Vox regained himself. Clamped cyan teeth greeted him with a swirling in Vox’s red eye. The old picture was so cute when he was upset, it inspired laughter in the radio demon. A laughter that extinguished the building rage in the other man. “Ugh, you’re in one of your moods aren’t you.” Vox sighed.

“You only have yourself to blame dear Picture-box. Whenever I get in this car you know how I get.” Alastor leaned forward, pushing himself deliberately into Vox’s personal space.

“Yeah! Because I can’t get you to get in it unless I promise to tear a man open for you like a Christmas present! We’ll miss the opening act if we take any more detours you know. Anyway, I’ll be only a few minutes, watch the car for me.” Vox shoved open the car door, smacking away a cannibal who got a little too close in the process. Bright blue electricity crackled from his iron claws as a warning to the hungry children of the night. Wherever the pale blue glow reached, they shied away from; retreating to the safety of the shadows. A couple of cold clicks for his fingers emphasized what exactly these cannibals were dealing with if they got too close. A blaring noise from his screens scared them out of their wits, scampering into the unknown.

The door closed behind Vox with a thud, and he took a brief detour to grab the red box sitting in the back.

Alastor sat back and enjoyed the show, even if sitting alone in a dark car was never his favorite. He hated any dark cramped space, hence his dislike for the vehicle. Doubly so left alone in it. The man’s luminous presence was the only reason he could stomach it at all! So once Vox was out of sight, he opened the other door and stepped outside. The crickets were noisy tonight, one could almost hear them over the low hiss of the cannibal children. Alastor’s signal buzzed with delight, he was a man who appreciated the natural beauty of hell.

“Happy Birthday Rosie! I’m sorry it’s a little late. Alastor wanted to make them personally, so it took us a while to… organically source them. You know how he loves to over-sample.” Vox put on his best smile for Rosie as he handed her the box. Already changed into her evening clothes, she only kept half the door cracked open when she answered it. When she recognized who it was, all caution was thrown to the wind. She cracked it wide open in invitation, the hollows of her eyes wide in excitement.

“Vox! How GOOD to see you dear! And this is from the both of you?!” Into her waiting hands, Vox slipped the box. She wasted little time to undo the beautiful red silk ribbon, peeking at the sweets inside.

“Of course, nothing but the best for our favorite lady.” Charm came easy for the TV anchor, and doubly so when he was telling the truth. Rosie was no stranger to it, but it didn’t make it any less charming through the years. One may even say his consistency made it all the more flattering.

“Where’s Alastor?” Rosie leaned to the side, hoping to spy on the other Overlord. Not a fuzzy red ear in sight.

“He’s watching the car. We’re going to see the new Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde play in the Upper District. It’s a long walk so I barely convinced him to get into a car with me. Your cannibals don’t like it… much.”

Rosie giggled, the hollows of her eyes upturning in genuine mirth. “Oh, they just want to chew on the tires a little dear! If you feed them a bone they’ll leave you alone.”

“I’ll remember that for next time… I guess even Cannibals get hangry.” Felt awful like the same way Vox calmed down Alastor from his bad moods. Throw him a sinner or two and he was as sweet as a kitten-- As Mimzy likes to put it.

“Oh absolutely! Nothing quite like a cannibal getting hangry either. We’ll try to take bites right out of you!” Rosie flipped her hand, punctuating the statement with a laugh. “But don’t let me keep you, you two have a lovely night alright? Tell Alastor I said hello!”

Vox forced a laugh, thankful for the distance between the two at the moment. One would think his unique mechanical biology would dissuade them but-- it only made them damn more curious. Vox preferred to stay intact, repairs were expensive! “You have a night as lovely as you are, Rosie!”

The door snuffed out the pale yellow light, submerging Vox in darkness. More keen having once been blinded. A few cannibals in the bushes stared at him with their dark hollowed eyes. Vox conjured another burst of electricity crackling at his palm to dissuade them.

Beyond all expectations, Vox was happy to see that Alastor was still in the seat, waiting for him. Still wearing that familiar Cheshire grin that he swore grew whenever their eyes first met. It always gave Vox the sneaking suspicion he was up to something; but when wasn’t he?

The car shook with the added weight when Vox stepped inside, sticking the key right into the ignition. “Rosie says hello. Thanks for watching the car for me Al.” The engine whined before it roared to life. Sending gentle vibrations throughout the entire vehicle.

“Not a problem! You know, as long as you show you’re not scared of them they’ll leave you alone. They’re only looking for an easy meal-- and you look hardly appetizing. No offense.” A total fabrication. Alastor had been tempted more than once to sink his teeth into that firm flesh, wondering if it tasted any different from other sinners. But he could never justify testing his theory in case it scared the little overlord off.

“None taken.” Vox pinched the rear-view mirror, adjusting it to look out the back. His hand froze when he found there was a black silhouette in the back seat of his BMW. Vox squinted, then immediately swiveled his head to cast light on the figure in the back. An elk sinner sat there with their head hanging low. A dark liquid dripped all over his nice pleather seats, dripping onto the floor. Vox didn’t need much imagination to guess what.

“Is that a dead body in the back seat?”

“To be fair darling, you left me alone,” Alastor stated, looking over his nails. “Don’t worry. He’s still alive, for now.”

The artificial glow of Vox’s monitor revealed more of the figure. Their chest was moving, but only barely. There were signs of claws raking all over the body but it was shock that had knocked him unconscious if Vox had to guess. He wasn’t in danger of dying in his back seat, for now. Only torn open just enough to bleed. All over his car. No plastic liner or anything. Vox rapped his claws against the wheel, counting to ten to silence the scream building in him. Screaming only ever made Alastor wall him off completely. When he found his cool, Vox forced a smile as he met Alastor’s eyes. Speaking through clenched teeth.

“And why is there a bleeding all over my back seat?”

Alastor cocked his head to the side, large fluffy ears bouncing with the movement. Deliberately done, Alastor was well aware of how weak Vox was to them. A faint light blue blush crawled over Vox’s screen, making the white freckles on the screen more prominent. The wobble of his lips danced as teeth flashed in and out of view. A smack of a fist against the car wheel sounded his defeat. What soft muttering protests he could muster came out unintelligible.

“You know the cost of getting me in your car, Vox. A corpse would hardly be proper! You deserve them when they’re still squirming and thrashing.”

“But-- I keep plastic liners in the trunk! You could have at least put one down! I’ll never get all that blood out!” All the wiggling of those fuzzy ears couldn’t have stopped Vox from raising his voice plaintively there.

Alastor pressed a finger against Vox’s mouth, hushing him with a click of his tongue. “Tut tut, my dear! Let’s not fight in front of Steve.”

Vox immediately bat the hand away. “You named it Steve?! Why him anyway? Did he crop dust you or something?”

The deer wrinkled his nose in disgust, offended by even the insinuation. “Oh-- no. He wouldn’t be intact if that were the case dear. I saw him trying to make off with some undergarments from a lady's clothesline. Hardly befitting a gentleman, wouldn’t you agree?”

Vox’s mouth hung open- then shut. Then the box head turned and smacked against the car wheel.

BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The media overlord’s whole body rose and fell with his heavy sigh. “Sometimes I feel like the reason I fell to hell was because I was destined to meet you.”

“Quite the romantic sentiment-- I’m afraid you’ll need to do better than that if you wish to have a chance, my dear. I am not so easily wooed.”

Vox raised his head, shooting him a deadpan look. “Destined to meet you, so you could torment me for the rest of my Lucifer damned afterlife.”

Alastor’s signal chirped, the ends of the Radio Demon’s lips curling with delight at an equal measure to Vox’s despair. “I dearly hope so.”

It was pathetic that a single comment inspired a blush so furious Vox’s whole screen became smothered in white. Inelegant sputtering answered him with Vox immediately tearing his attention back to the road. Focusing instead on getting back on the road so they could attend that damn play. Once they passed Cannibal Town and through the busy Entertainment streets, Neon signs flashed as they passed by. Panoramas of violence, depravity, poverty, and all the typical miseries of hell sped by. Their beloved Pentagram City.

“So, the man in the back seat. You want me to kill him too? What do you even get out of that anyway? I thought you preferred to get your own hands bloody.” Vox shifted his gaze at a lull stuck behind traffic. The sight of his partner’s face was awash in the city lights, contrasted by the deep shadows. It was a rare moment to see Alastor pensive, lost in his thoughts that put him so off guard that he shared with Vox one of those rare unguarded smiles.

It was always the little things like that-- that made Alastor’s capricious moods and constant teasing all worth it. A gentle words or a smile that was for him alone and his heart would squeeze with the most delightful bittersweet pain.

“It’s good for you my dear! You cannot rely on my reputation forever you know! The big fish will come to nibble at your empire sooner rather than later. If you cannot strike fear into the hearts of the laymen, they’ll see you as easy picking. If my business takes me elsewhere for a week, what would you do?”

“You already do disappear for weeks on end! And I’ve done fine.” Vox muttered. It always jabbed at his pride when he was underestimated, well aware of the fact that he was still living in the Radio Demon’s shadow.

Vox’s fists squeezed against the leather wrap of the wheel. Cyan pupils stared hard at the road as the spiraling thoughts of his self-worth encroached at the corners of his mind. The gentle touch of Alastor’s hand on his shoulder returned him to Hell, banishing them before they could do real harm.

“True. I keep forgetting how quickly you’ve blossomed. Feels like only yesterday since I found you shaking like a kitten after I devoured… what was his name? It was something hideous.” The recollection came with a dainty tap on his chin.

Vox clicked his tongue. “Don’t remember either. Guy was an asshole though! Hiked my rent for the third month in a row! Landlords. Figures they’d all end up here.” Capitalism was great! When it wasn’t keeping the go-getters like him down! But climbing a Sisyphean hill where the rent hiked faster than he could make money was a stark reminder of where Vox was.

“In any case! ANY normal person would be terrified! You don’t exactly have the best table-side manners when you hunt. I had nightmares for weeks where I heard nothing but you chewing on that guy's bones.” Vox shuddered at the memory. Years later? He’d become so used to it that he slept soundly without losing a wink of sleep these days. It was crazy how hell had you desensitized to everything. What remained of his humanity slipped by the day if anything was left.

The blare of a horn behind them impatiently urged Vox to drive faster. A suggestion he paid no heed to, driving even slower in a deliberate attempt to piss the driver off further. The wailing of the horn sped by as the driver slipped into the other lane, flashing the finger at him even as raced past. For all his impatience, he almost ended up slamming into another car. The wild swerving had him hit a bloody corpse on the road. Spiraling until the car flipped and crashed taking under it a few sinners happening to take a walk.

Vox and Alastor both broke out into dry laughter, with Alastor pointing at one of the mangled bodies thrown over the pavement. When lost in schadenfreude, Alastor lost what elegance he normally possessed with his eyes going cross-eyed. The particularly gorey way the brains splattered over the pavement was a visual delight for the sadistic deer.

All the laughter had the misfortune of waking the poor victim still bleeding all over Vox’s nice car seat. “Where the hell am I…?”

Alastor’s head turned ninety degrees, greeting the sinner with his dazzling luminous smile. His good mood had warped his appearance into something terrifying. Eyes now the shape of dials frantically swinging like a haywire pendulum. “Good morning!”

“HOLY FUCK!” The elk kicked back, sliding against the seat trying to put even an inch more between him and the genuine terror staring at him. As if Vox only remembered to, he hit the button locking the doors and the window. The click sent a shiver of dread through the cowering sinner. “What do you two plan to do with me?! What do you want? Money? I have money! You can have all of it! Just-- let me go!”

Alastor laughed, cracking his neck twice, extending it past the seats. Vox kept his eyes on the road, not wanting to end up like that idiot from earlier. Not that he particularly wanted to see the disturbing creepy fuck his partner could be at times.

“Don’t scare him so bad he shits himself Alastor. Or I’m making you clean it.”

A discordant signal answered Vox, souring the unhinged glee he felt from having a new toy to torment. The neck snapped back into place as he turned his head back forward. “You would be incapable of making me do anything dear. But I do know how much you adore this… bucket of bolts. In any case, I’m holding you to your end of the deal one way or another.”

Vox rolled his technicolor pupils. “We might miss the opening act. Will you be O.K with that?”

A buzz filled the air. One that the elk tried to interrupt. “Um-- excuse me. I’d… love an answer. Is this about something other than money? Drugs? Or are you… Jenna’s boyfriend? Is that what this is about?!”

Alastor kept ignoring the elk, leaning to the side with his elbow against the car door. “Even if I must miss the opening act! And I will have you know now, if you give me a half-assed performance I will pull somebody from the audience and make you try again. And again. Until you get it right. So-- best get it done right the first time Vox.”

“Of course not. When have I ever half-assed anything around you?”

Unbeknownst to Vox, Alastor watched Vox’s expressions with the reflection on the front car window. The emotive little picture box was always such a wonder, a marvel if you will. So honest around him that it was impossible to want to push all his buttons. So, he did!

“That Charleston last week didn’t feel like you gave it your all.”

“Um-- guys? Hello?!” The elk tried to get their attention by poking at Vox’s shoulder. It provoked the simultaneous reaction of both Alastor and Vox. Electrical cord and eldritch tentacle reached out in unison seizing his arm. “AIIEEEE! PLEASE STOP! LET ME GO! Fuck! FUCK FUCK FUCK! I’m sorry! Whatever I did, please I’ll do anything!”

Vox fought for control, whipping the sinner to smack against the back of his seat. “What?! I have been practicing that dance for weeks! I wore out my brand new fucking shoes because you said you’d kill me if I embarrassed you!”

“Vox. What did I tell you? Not in front of Steve. You know arguing in front of the children is terrible for their development.” Alastor tut-tutted a second time, even wiggling his leftmost ear when Vox bothered to turn his head. The incensed expression faltered immediately with his face losing all its color.

“Is your name even Steve?!” Vox spoke through the filter, only now noticing that his cords had become tangled with Alastor’s tentacles. The unfortunate sinner had tears streaming down his face. His poor luck to be in a car with a man who was only excited by his tears and the other who couldn’t be more indifferent. If anything he found the wailing more annoying.

“NO! My name is Kyle! W-will you please let me go?”

“KYLE will be fine, Al. Wait-- your name is Kyle?” Vox paused, blanching. “Ew, I’m glad I’m killing you now. Fuck any guy whose name is Kyle.”

A gloved hand hid the golden crescent on Alastor’s face, shoulders trembling from hidden laughter. The elk pinned his ears back, losing all the color in his face as fear turned the blood in his veins into ice. “Why?!”

Grown tired of it all, Alastor leaned back and gave the man the answer he craved. If only so he could stop hearing the same monotonous syllable. “It’s quite simple my friend. You happened to offend me when I was bored, now you’re my entertainment for the evening. You can try to run, and I’ll kill you instead. But it’ll be far slower than Vox. He doesn’t seem to have a love of the art like I do.”

“I don’t think anyone enjoys making people suffer half as much as you do Alastor. Besides, I can’t be horrible at it if you keep making me do it.” Much to Vox’s chagrin. “All it means to me is an extra trip to the dry cleaners.”

The slow roll of the car as they turned into a parking lot was the sinner’s signal to try and escape. Kyle yanked on the door handle, flipping it uselessly. The noisy clattering was music to the sadistic buck, watching Kyle with delight. “HELP! PLEASE SOMEBODY! ANYBODY?! THESE TWO ARE FUCKING INSANE!”

Kyle slammed his elbows into the window, yelping as the numbing shock ran through his arm. Twice, thrice he tried to smash his elbow through driven by adrenaline. Without a word Vox stepped out of the car, strolling over to Alastor’s side. He opened the door, offering his hand as if for a lady.

Alastor took the offered claw, stepping out from the car with eyes glittering wildly with anticipation. Ruby's irises flickered between Vox’s luminous screen and the sinner beating his fists against the glass walls screaming for help. A few of the theater go-ers would rubberneck, curiosity getting the best of them but… nobody was coming to save them. The sight of the two familiar overlords would dissuade all but the most foolish heroic souls. And hell had no place for heroes.

People were already filing into the theater. Spotlights danced, banishing the darkness of night around it. The stage title ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ was prominently written in lights. Vox sighed, looking at the distant glamour of the stage waiting for them. He hesitated by the car door. “Hey, Al.”

“Hm?” The hum was accentuated with an especially thick static filter. Alastor knew that look, Vox was having one of his moods now.

“Was there ever a Dr. Jekyll in you?” The question caught Alastor off guard. He balanced on his cane, tucking one leg over the other. While the programs Vox put out may be shallow and trite, he understood the beauty of these plays. One more reason he made an exception for this man’s company. So he was always happy to have these discussions with him as much as he hated to reveal anything of himself.

“If there was, he was consumed by Hyde long, long ago. So long ago… that I thought the man himself entirely erased once.”

“Thought?” Vox hung on that word. Of course, he would be at least that perceptive. Alastor leaned forward, deciding to throw him a bone.

“Traces… of him have been returning to me these days. He will never reclaim this body of mine, but I do enjoy what it is he awakens.”

Vox finally opened the door. The elk shoved past him, immediately breaking out into a run the moment he saw his chance. Unfortunately, he didn’t get far. This wasn’t Vox’s first rodeo, nor would it be his last. Cords had whipped out in anticipation, winding around his ankle and tripping him. Vox didn’t even look at the sinner, nor pay attention to his cries as he was dragged toward him. The conversation at hand was far more interesting to him at the moment.

The elk’s nails dug at the concrete, tearing up his nails and fingers in the process. The bleating and kicking of his legs only made him look all the more pathetic, invoking a hunger in Alastor. Unaware of his growing hunger, the antlers on his head warped into gnarled branches.

It took all the self-control Alastor could muster to not devour the elk then and there. Running always invoked the predator’s instinct in him.

“Always talking in riddles… I’m surprised. I would think you would have hated anything like a Jekyll in you. I’ve never seen anyone so happy with who they are.” Vox continued speaking as he fulfilled his end of the bargain as if this was all a familiar routine and nothing more. One man butchered in exchange for Alastor taking a car ride.

The first cut was always the most beautiful, in Alastor’s opinion. Each movement was mechanical and emotionless. Vox’s expression neutral even while his claws slashed across the elk's throat in a chillingly mechanical and ruthless motion. He didn't even get a chance to scream. With such confidence in movement, you knew he'd done it hundreds of times before.

Blood sprayed over Vox’s screen, his clothes, dripping down his claws. The inhuman face had not an ounce of pity or euphoria while he butchered a man like he was skinning a rabbit. A chilling contrast to the joy it inspired in Alastor. So similar to one another; yet in some contradiction they were each other's foil.

Alastor had watched plenty of men kill others, he’d murdered countless more. But there was a beauty in Alastor’s eyes to the surgical way Vox’s claws tore through clothes and flesh. Knew the exact place to stick his hand to grab the large intestine and yank it free. The way his claws tore through bone, muscle, sinew, and fat sent a thrilling shiver from head to toe.

But the best part was the almost bored way he looked at Alastor as if asking him if he was satisfied yet. It made his heart pound. He didn’t care how the blood came down his screen in rivulets, collecting at the gaps at the bottom and streaming down the corners. How inhuman and demonic he looked. Pure poetry.

Only Vox could take a kill from him, and bring him more excitement than if he had dealt the blow himself! But he would never admit to the way his heart was clamoring with excitement at these very moments. This was the remnant of Jekyll, no doubt. There was otherwise no other proof that his dead shriveled heart still beat in his chest.

“And what about you my fine fellow? Was there once a Dr. Jekyll for you?” Alastor was always impressed with how he could continue to speak indifferently, even when he felt anything but. An invaluable tool for an Overlord.

Vox shifted his gaze. “What makes you think I’m Hyde right now?” After mangling the corpse to Alastor’s satisfaction, it dropped from his hands with a dull wet thud. Splashing in the pool of blood it left behind. With bloody claws Vox popped open the trunk of his car, throwing off his jacket to fish out a clean one.

It wasn’t his first rodeo.

Black had been traded for burgundy, a good trade as far as Alastor was concerned. Red suited Vox much better. Though he wished Vox could wait a little longer to wipe his claws and face clean. But one could hardly attend a show fresh out of a blood bath. That was better saved for dances.

Vox’s expression turned pensive. “For as long as I can remember, I was always a burden. A selfish brat who only ever cared for himself. If there’s no Jekyll, there’s no Hyde, right? I was… simply born shitty.” It wasn’t self-deprecation a man spoke because he wanted to be reassured. And he’d be asking the wrong man for it anyway.

It was a personal truth, spoken robotically as if one might talk about the weather. But Alastor could tell, in the way his hands hesitated for half a second. This was a piece of himself that he wanted to share with Alastor, as foolish as it was. “So, I spent my entire life convincing everyone I was a Jekyll instead. Became damn good at it too, even convinced myself. Sometimes.”

The trunk boomed as it shut closed. A new jacket was thrown over to cover the bloody sweater beneath. The only hint that he had torn a man open was the little blood splatter lingering on his bow tie. A small touch that Alastor would not dare to rob himself of the pleasure of speaking up.

“But that’s why I’m glad I found you.” Emotion returned to Vox’s voice, gentle and hopeful.

Vox’s cyan teeth were stained in blood as he flashed Alastor a toothy smile that took up half his screen. The very same that became his favorite since the first time he laid eyes on it. Full of those beautiful sharkish teeth that could tear a limb clean off drenched in the blood of a sinner. More beautiful than ever.

“I feel no need to hide my true nature when I’m with you.”

[lucagray813]

Deal with the Devil

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1,156

Characters: Lady Bone Demon, Macaque

Relationships: Lady Bone Demon & Macaque, Hinted Macaque & Wukong

Summary: The Six-Eared Macaque cannot be trusted but his offer to aid her righteous mission is a tempting one.

Additional Tags: Alternative first meeting, Pre-canon, fake identity

CW: Mentions of off-screen deaths and allusions to future murder

Link to AO3 Version

----

Lady Yèhè Nāra, the only woman to currently serve as an advisor to Governor Zhōu, was not known for ignoring protocol or disregarding propriety by slipping away from her handmaidens and guards in the middle of the night.

But as she carefully walked through quiet halls and then extravagant gardens to find somewhere isolated, she rather suspected that it would be worth her while.

The shadow that had made its presence known to her, and her alone, throughout the day waited until she had stopped before finally appearing before her properly as the outline of a grinning monkey.

She watched without alarm, as a solid creature rose from the shadow, the grinning monkey taking form before bowing to her lowly for but a moment before standing, eyes full of disrespect, "Lady Bone Demon, I'm honoured you would agree to meet with me."

She was not surprised he knew who she was, although she was curious what methods he had used to find her. She had not heard anything from her informants but a creature that could be one with the shadows could undoubtedly make for an impressive collector of stolen knowledge.

But still.

"I am Lady Yèhè Nāra, demon. And you have hardly been subtle - stalking me all day. Speak your piece before I alert the priests to your presence."

He chuckled, "Oh, we're playing that game, are we? My sincerest apologies, my Lady. I simply heard of your noble intentions to better this world and thought to offer you my services."

She was under no illusion he was interested in her righteous mission and dryly she responded, "For a price I'm sure. What services do you purport to offer?"

In contrast to her perfect poise, he was a creature of movement, at no point had he been still since he left his shadow, and now he paced as he gestured, his tone a parody of respect, "My Lady, you wish to change the world through honest means but I'm sure you know it is difficult, if not impossible, by those means alone. While good work is done for all to see, it is often supported by less... desirable actions from the shadows. An unfortunate but necessary evil."

"And what "actions from the shadows" are you suggesting would further my cause?"

He grinned widely, "Whatever my Lady deemed necessary. My shadows enable me to be a most impressive spy, assassin and saboteur."

She raised an eyebrow, "Saboteur?"

He looked delighted at the opportunity to explain, "Perhaps you have heard of the unfortunate end that the once venerable Lín family met in Shāndōng?"

She resisted the urge to smile.

The Lín family had held significant power in the province of Shāndōng but, as was too often the case, they had been horrifically corrupt, and she had perhaps been a little more pleased than decorum would allow for when she heard of their bloody end.

But she had also heard the rumours to which he was alluding.

"A peasant uprising. However I have heard rumours that their demise was truly brought about by whispers from the shadows sewing discontent, mistrust and madness. I am to believe that you were the originator of those whispers?"

He bowed as if he'd finished a great performance on a stage, "Some of my finest work if I may say so."

"Forgive me if I do not believe your actions were driven by righteousness."

He grinned, clearly unoffended, "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I have my own righteous mission, one that you will find does not contradict your own. The Lín family were in possession of a number of scrolls that I liberated in the ensuing revolt. Scrolls that contain powerful and advanced knowledge on seals. An area of study I have heard you are most advanced in."

"And this is what you would ask for in exchange for your services? My knowledge of seals? And what do you intend to do with this knowledge?"

Though he kept up his foolish routine, she could feel an undercurrent of fury and agony, as he responded, "A dear friend of mine has been sealed away, I intend to free him."

She had long suspected the identity of this creature, and given his striking resemblance to the demon she'd heard had waged a war against heaven, she felt confident she understood his true intent.

He intended to try and break the seals that the Buddha himself had placed on the Monkey King's prison? And he wanted her to help him? Did he think her a fool? Powerful she may be but no-one was a match for the Buddha.

That being said, she did not believe what this demon wanted was at all achievable, no matter what knowledge she shared with him.

"You intend to do the impossible."

"Many would say the same of your own ambition, I'm sure."

What a laughable sentiment - he truly believed he could undermine the Buddha's power! And yet, this foolish ambition could be used to her advantage. His offer was tempting, and the likelihood of repercussions to her for engaging with him were almost negligible.

While she was confident in her superiority to this creature, it would be unwise to underestimate him. Demons were not a trustworthy bunch even amongst themselves - if she was to proceed with this partnership she must take every precaution to ensure she would not be betrayed or short-changed.

"I will consider your offer, demon. Meet me here again in three nights and if I deem this a prosperous agreement, I will have drafted terms for us to formally agree upon."

"Of course, of course. Although perhaps while you mull things over, I could do something to prove the worth of my skills to you? I'd ask for nothing in return for it in this instance, of course."

There was no reason to say no, and while she felt no need to test his abilities, who was she to turn down such a generous offer?

"Above the window outside my bedchambers there is a decorative piece, look there after midday for what I require from you."

He feigned confusion, "My Lady, I have seen it but surely such a location is inaccessible to you?"

His abilities better make up for his exceptionally disrespectful mouth.

She did not deign to answer and simply walked past him, signalling the end of this interaction.

She heard him laugh, "Of course, of course. A lowly demon such as myself shouldn't question you, my Lady. Forgive my disrespect, I'm sure I'll get the hang of these human rules of decorum eventually."

She did not need to look to know he'd once again disappeared into the shadows.

What a fool of a demon.

Despite, his clear shortcomings however, he had power and intelligence that were of use to her. And if she could find a way to ensure his loyalty then this could be a long lasting and lucrative partnership indeed.

--End--

LMK Fanfic Masterlist

[ronearoundblindly]

I've been working on the finale of Dignity of His Choice for over a year now.

That's hard to say. It's hard to admit that this story I feel such excitement and passion for is just *not coming to the page* like so many others have with less excitement and passion. The Stark Legacy has been the same way, except it's been a year and a half.

I have...responsibilities that aren't writing though. I own my business and have no employees. I live alone now and pay for everything, clean everything, maintain everything. It's just me. I think I used to write Fools Rush In with the hope that having to think of both perspectives in a relationship would somehow change mine, if only shift my thoughts to why my marriage was probably fine and I was making too big a deal.

But it wasn't fine.

I don't mean this is a dramatic way (because a relationship between two people will always be evolving and have growing pains, even when everyone is communicating and moving towards the same goal with mutual respect), but I was being lied to. It was a simple lie, sure, something that wouldn't and didn't fully impact our entire lives until the tiny friction point snapped like two tectonic plates, and then in an instant, rattled and confused, we were gone. The layout of my world just *changed* and wasn't going to go back to normal. Normal never existed. It was just then and this is just now.

It's been so difficult to feel that happen in my real life and not fear for my characters--which I get is projection at its finest, but still--how do I protect them? How do I make their life seem real without snapping it in half and then lying about putting it back together? I couldn't do that. I'm alone. What do I know?

Except...I've been writing Fools Rush In for nearly two years, and I never actually knew what communicating and moving towards the same goal with mutual respect really looked like. I was wrong. I've been wrong the whole time. My life, exactly like my art, was fiction. I fabricated happiness in my home and on the page, and in one of those places, I already failed.

There was no finish line or last sentence; the whole story just vanished with an unhappy ending that proved the entire thing was some sort of fever dream. I had put a decade of effort into absolutely nothing. Worse. I worked for that long on hope when there was none.

I've often thought that I relate to Steve/Sketch as much as Reader/Keeps in the FRI series because I play more of a narrator role in life. Steve had a story to go through: survive illness, become a soldier, lead others to victory and safety. In canon, we often see him...not living his own life, and it's even commented on frequently. I think I've been taking on a similar role. You have no idea how difficult it is for me to consider myself the protagonist; things happen to other people, I want good things to happen to other people, but I am not the one who experiences them.

I didn't expect to ever be in the same place as this character when I imagined the 'fake death' story two springs ago, but my life is in tatters after I made the wrong decision for all the right reasons. I struggle to read comments like "how could Steve do this?" and "I could never forgive him" without taking them very personally. Of course, I know that no reader means them that way, but it's still painful to write Sketch and Keeps the happy ending I know they deserve when me...? What the hell is gonna happen to me? Who do I return to after this death-of-the-life-I-had?

I don't know the answer.

I just wanted to say I'm sorry to those who are waiting for Dignity's very happy ending (which I promise it very much is happy). The narrator is just lost at the moment, stuck on all the stories and none of the stories at once, wondering which of the fiction she told herself led to this ending, and...truly unable to trust in 'hope' again.

[alcinas-darling-side]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 | 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

Summary: Cleared at last, Hatter can finally return back to some semblance of a normal life. Some apologies are in order, and a few familiar faces return for a mission :) Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader (Callsign: Sol), Keegan P. Russ x Reader (Callsign: Hatter) Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing Author's Note: Hiiii, sorry for taking absolute decades for this update, midterms are coming up and ya girl is stressed. Be sure to look out for the next chapter on @bloodonmyhands-1221 's account!

The instant that Keegan opens up the door, Hatter is leaping into her husband’s arms, holding onto him as though he was her salvation.

“Hey, babygirl,” he says softly, though Hatter hears Sol snicker quietly to herself in the background

“Hey,” she says, and that’s all she can manage without sobbing, tears of relief streaming down her face. One could only put up a brave front for so long after all.

“I’ll be taking my wife back now, pardon me,” Keegan says, a light lilt to his voice that hasn’t been seen in days now filtering through his voice. He nods at them both before carrying Hatter back up the stairs toward their room.

Sol can only smile as she watches, and though the hesitation in Simon lingers, he can’t help but smile too. That maybe, everything might just be okay.

“I need to get back to work in here, I know Merrick asked everyone to take it easy until we need to head out again, so why don’t you head back?” Sol urges, patting him on the shoulder lightly.

“'Everyone' includes you too, love,” Simon says, not budging from his place. Sol can only sigh in response.

“Just…let me do a few more things. I need to be sure of everything, double check the labs before I can relax,” she says, eyes wide in a way she knew Simon couldn’t deny. “Please?”

Simon can only huff slightly, but he relents.

“Alright,” he brushes her hair back soothingly, “but don’t get back too late, yeah?”

She nods in response before swiftly turning back to the lab area, tuning out the rest of the world in exchange for her work. Simon only stares at his wife’s form with concern, but he knew better than anyone that once Sol’s mind was set, there was nothing stopping her. It would be like trying to stop the sun itself from lying asleep, transitioning to the night.

With a shake of his head, he makes his way back upstairs as well.

~

Keegan walks through the halls swiftly, uncaring of the eyes that trailed their form as they made their way through. Hatter couldn’t help but laugh at the look of determination on her husband’s face, to describe him as a man on a mission was an understatement.

“Be careful, don’t want to plow anyone over now,” she says with a laugh.

“Well, if we’re talking about plowing, the only one I’m doing that to is you,” he says lowly, and she can’t help the bark of laughter that springs forth. She slaps him lightly on the shoulder but feels her face heat up regardless.

He brusquely kicks open the door, yet when he gets over to the bed he places Hatter down as though she were made of the finest china, sitting down by her side.

He only looks at her for a moment, eyes widened in awe as though he can’t believe she’s truly there with him. Then, his eyes fall down to her arm where the bit lay. His fingers trail delicately over the bandage that encased the bite.

“Hey, hey. I’m fine, Keegan. I promise you,” she says, taking his cheek into her grasp tenderly.

“I know,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to hers. “Never, do that to me again, you hear?” he says, his tone joking, but Hatter can hear the fear that laced his words. Losing one’s soulmate was like losing a part of your heart you would never regain. Gone beyond the River Styx, lost between the veil of life and death.

He couldn’t lose her. She was his lifeline, the very air he breathed. He couldn’t.

“I’m not going anywhere, my love, not without you by my side,” she assures, climbing into his lap to be as close as possible. To make sure he knows, and feels, that she is here with him.

“You’re stuck with me, unfortunately,” she says with a grin before pressing her lips to his.

~

Keegan stares at the ceiling, the lights are off and it's already late in the evening. Even still, he lies awake as remorse runs through his veins. Hatter lies off to his side, bare shoulder peeking up over the sheets, barely visible in the low light. Only now does he realize how terrible he’s been to his closest friends after his wife has come home safe and sound.

Sol and Ghost…he owes them both an apology. Lashing out was the last thing anyone needed in an already high-stress environment. Sol especially, as she had been the one to run around desperately in search of a cure, as well as ensuring Hatter remained okay.

He was going to make this right.

Pulling the covers off of his body, he presses his lips to Hatter’s forehead before grabbing a hoodie and sweatpants, pulling them on.

As quietly as he can, he slips out of the room. Hatter needed her rest after all after what she’s been through.

The lights are dimmed out in the hallway, and most of the recruits were in the rooms because of curfew. Anyone who remained awake was high-ranking officials, who were likely holed up in their rooms doing paperwork. Though he knew Sol and Ghost would be awake.

Ghost…wasn’t one for sleep unless his wife was by his side. And he knew Sol was still skittering about in the lab, as she had been in light of recent events. While words could not describe the thankfulness he felt towards his friend, there was a great amount of worry too.

He knew what it was like, working himself to the bone. Back in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper, he felt the brunt of it as one of the original 15. Yet that was only the beginning. Extreme conditions were a daily occurrence as a Ghost. Which meant he knew it wouldn’t be long before she breaks.

Ghost, he should probably talk to him first. The couple would probably end up wanting to be together after he gets Sol to rest after all.

He knew where he would find him.

~

It was a peaceful night. The moon hanging in the sky, bathing the world in its cool glow. Selene herself must’ve been watching over the world with how quiet it was, yet Simon still didn’t feel at ease.

It was a gnawing sort of feeling, chewing away at him. Even with his usual balaclava off, shoved into one of the many pockets on his cargo pants, the air felt heavy in his lungs. Maybe it was the fact that Sol wasn’t by his side. Hadn’t been much ever since they got back from that mission. Maybe it was the fact that Hatter had almost died that day, that they all had. Or maybe it was the fact that he almost had to be the one to do it, kill her. Maybe it was because he almost did.

Yet he couldn’t. Even despite that conversation with her that night, one almost like this one. Despite the promise he made to her, he couldn’t do it. It was a cruel proposition, but it was a cruel world after all. Especially now.

Behind him, he hears the rooftop door open and glances back to see who it was.

Keegan.

Softly, he huffs a little sigh to himself, looking back out toward the scenery. He knew this conversation would come by at some point.

Turning to face the man, he rests his elbows on his knees as he remains sitting on the elevated edge of the rooftop.

Neither man says anything at first, though he does notice the slight widening of Keegan’s eyes as he takes in his appearance. It wasn’t often Simon had his mask off on base, at least outside of the safety of his room that is.

“Hey,” Keegan starts awkwardly, and Simon feels himself inwardly cringe, but nods in response.

“Look, I just wanted to apologize for how I acted. It was harsh and I didn’t understand where you and Hatter were coming from. So I’m sorry,” he says, now standing right in front of him. Simon holds nothing but understanding in his eyes.

“You acted a hell of a lot better than I did, mate. If I knew you were about to kill my wife I…don’t know what I would’ve done. It wouldn’t have been pretty, that’s all that I know,” he says, and Keegan huffs out a laugh.

“You’d probably wring my neck, that’s what,” he says, looking out into the horizon. “But I get your thought process. It was a dangerous situation, choosing her or the rest of the people on base. I wouldn’t have been able to do it, nor would Sol. If it actually came to it…” he grimaces but looks at Simon properly. “I’m happy it would’ve been you.” Keegan smiles, a fist held out, extending an olive branch. “No hard feelings?”

“Never was any, mate,” he says, bumping his fist in turn.

“I think you should head back,” Keegan says, glancing at his watch. “It’s late, and I’m about to send Sol your way after a quick chat.”

Simon hmphs in response.

“Ordering me around, Sergeant?” Simon asks but stands up regardless.

“Never, sir,” Keegan smirks.

~

Sol looks up from the papers in her hands as hesitant knocks sound out against the glass window. She wipes the tiredness from her eyes as she sees Keegan standing outside, hands deep in his pockets. Slightly confused, she waves him inside regardless.

The door opens with a soft click and his head ducks inside.

“Hey, wasn’t expecting you here. What’s up?” she asks as she tries to swallow away the deep-set tiredness that has settled over her in the last few days. Hatter was healthy and sound, but Sol had to make sure it stayed that way, that she would remain as she was. She came close to losing her closest friend once, but it would never happen again. Not if she had anything to do with it.

“Hey…I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve acted over the last few days,” he says, and an even more confused expression settles over Sol’s face.

“Why? You’ve done nothing wrong,” she says, and Keegan shoots her a deadpan look like ‘you’ve got to be joking right now’. If Sol hadn’t been so sleep-deprived, she would’ve laughed out loud, but settled for a snort instead.

“Even if I said that I was being the biggest asshole on Earth, that would still be the understatement of the century,” he says with a grimace, thinking back on how he had lashed out at everyone over the last few days. “…and I’m sorry.”

“Look Keegan,” Sol starts, a sympathetic look on her face. “All of us were scared, hell, terrified of what was going to happen to Hatts. That makes us say things we don’t mean sometimes, I get it. You could’ve lost your wife, of course, you were angry at the world. It’s okay,” she emphasizes.

“No, it’s not. I lashed out. At both you and Ghost, and anyone else who tried to offer me comfort. And you all didn’t deserve it. Especially you. I was so lost in my emotions that I had forgotten just how much it must’ve killed you inside too. We both know Hatter better than anyone else in the world, losing her would destroy us both,” he says, and despite all else, she couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes at the mere prospect of losing her best friend. Keegan’s expression drops at the sight of it but Sol waves him off.

“We both were afraid and coped in different ways. I won’t fault you for acting like you did Keegan. Just like I know Ghost feels no animosity towards you too. So don’t worry about it, alright?”

He gives her a look that says he doesn’t believe her, but Sol only shoots him a playful glare that makes him back off.

She opens her mouth to say something more, but a yawn interrupts her words. Letting out a tired sigh, she pinches the bridge of her nose before picking up the papers again.

“I have to get back to work, but we’re cool Keegan. Promise,” she says, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“I think you’ve worked enough Sol. Harder than anyone else on base these last few days, you’ve done more than enough,” Keegan pushes. Knowing Sol over the years meant he knew that once her mind was set, she wasn’t backing down no matter how exhausted she got. “You look like you were the one that got bit,” he tries to joke, but they both wince.

“Bad joke?”

“Horrible,” she snorts but lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m just so tired,” she sniffs. “But if something goes wrong, if I made a mistake somewhere, I would never forgive myself.” Her hand brushes over the piles of papers that had accumulated on her desk.

“Hey, hey. She’s okay, and that will have to be good enough for now,” he says, pulling Sol into a comforting hug. “Go get some rest, I’m sure your old grump misses you.”

That pulled a smile onto Sol’s face, and for the first time in 3 days, that familiar sunny glow returns to Sol, at least a tiny bit, replacing the dark clouds that surrounded her.

“Yeah, I’m sure he does,” she chuckles. “I could say the same for your wife.”

“Well, here’s to being good spouses then,” he smiles, and they both set off toward their respective partners.

~

Sol slips into the room, shutting it behind her with a soft click. All at once the tension eases from her body as she takes in the familiar sight of her room. Home. With all its familiar sights and scents, it's like an antidote to her aching pains.

The lights in the living room were still on, though she didn’t expect Simon to be asleep. It wasn’t often that he could fall asleep without her by his side.

Slipping off her shoes, she makes her way to the living room where Simon is settled on the couch, book grasped in his hand as he waited for her to get back. The light of the lamp paints him in a warm glow, hazel eyes meeting hers as though they were magnets. He heard her the moment she came in, but as she turned the corner his expression softened as it always did.

“Love,” he says, his voice low. It makes her almost want to sob in response, but she instead says nothing, rushing into his arms instead.

In an instant, any heavy thoughts her brain held onto dissipated like smoke in the air as Simon captured her in his arms.

“Alright?” he asks, eyes scanning her appearance protectively.

“More than alright, Si,” she says with a smile.

~

What wakes Simon and Sol up in the morning isn’t their usual alarm clock, obnoxious ringing filling the air, but instead a knock on the door, half an hour before they were supposed to be awake.

“What on Earth possessed someone to think it was a good idea to wake us up this early,” Sol groans, throwing an arm over her eyes to block out the light creeping through the curtains. Simon laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek before getting out of bed.

“I’ll deal with it, get your sleep love. Though it probably won’t be for long,” he says, pulling his balaclava over his head.

Making his way over to the door, he opens it to find a young woman, a new recruit that arrived a few weeks back. Her eyes widen in shock as if not expecting him to be there.

“Uh, sir!” she stammers, saluting immediately.

“At ease, soldier. What is it?” he asks, trying to make his voice as neutral as possible. Though it clearly wasn’t working considering she looked like she was ready to turn tail and bolt out of there.

“Captain Elias tasked me to call you in for a briefing with 141 and Laswell, sir,” she says.

“That it?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Alright, tell them we’ll be down in 10,” he says, and she practically whirls around on her feet before making her way off. The whole thing made Simon almost laugh. Turning back to his wife, she sees her face buried between their pillows, snoring away.

“Love?” he asks, a hand smoothing down her arm soothingly. She only groans in response.

“What,” she huffs, burying her face deeper.

“We have a meeting in 10 with everyone else,” he says, which only makes her only groan louder.

“C’mon sweetheart, I’ll give you a treat later, yeah?” he says, and she immediately perks up like a puppy.

“Really? What?” she asks, a childish glimmer in her eye.

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” he grins.

~

They walk into the room where Elias and Merrick were standing, alongside Laswell and the rest of the 141.

“Thank you for coming in, we’re sorry to be sending you back into the field right after coming back home. But you’re the best people we got against this threat, we can’t risk anything less,” Elias says, a remorseful look in his eye.

“What you should be sorry about is waking us up at this godforsaken hour,” Sol complains, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

Elias glances at the clock with confusion. “You should’ve been awake by now regardless?”

“Case in point,” Sol grumbles, and Ghost nudges her lightly to which she makes a sour face in response. Hatter snorts at her friend's behaviour, waking up early was like pulling teeth to her. Though it made sense since she was always out and about late at night.

“Hey Soup, Price, Gaz,” she acknowledges, before spotting a certain blonde-haired woman she had only heard from and not seen in years.

"Kate!! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Sol says, giving the woman a hug that she warmly returns.

“Hey Sol, still see that you’re as bright as ever,” she says with a smile that Sol happily returns, a little less irritated by the morning wake-up call now.

“Alright,” Hatter says with a grin, “let’s get back to the task at hand, yeah? The faster we deal with these fucks, the sooner we can actually relax. What do you have for us, old man?” she says with a smirk, and Elias gives her a wicked side that caused chuckles all around.

“Reports from the mission 141 went on came in about sightings of Fed-Gadyuka presence 30 klicks off the original position of the old hospital, PID on the commander. We want you to bring him in,” he explains, screens lighting up with images of Commander Krov at a highlighted spot on the map.

“So soon? How were you able to track their position?” Sol says, eying the image warily.

“Brought in some new drones, undetectable even despite the Federation’s technology. We went out yesterday after getting briefed on the new details in the situation, came back 30 minutes ago,” Price explains, and Sol shoots him a glare.

“Ah, so you’re the reason why I had to be awake 30 minutes before my alarm,” Sol accuses, and Price puts up his hands in surrender.

“Alright starfire, calm down. I’ll get you coffee to make up for it, alright?”

“Still know my older old man? Or has dementia gotten to you already,” she snickers, which only makes Price roll his eyes in response.

“Only 6 years older, you muppet,” he retorts. “And it's two sugars with oat milk, yeah?” To which Sol nods, slight surprise on her face.

“Why are you guys here anyway, I thought you lot had headed back a week ago?” Sol asks.

“Laswell got important intel, figured it would be better to talk in person,” he explains.

“We also needed a team to do recon, considering some of our best people were out of commission, they were our best bet,” Elias explains. “It also means everyone can team up on this upcoming mission.” Everyone turns to him at that as he pulls up a map with highlighted points on the screen.

“We need your team to head out as soon as possible, today at 2100 hours at the latest. The sooner we can get this guy wrapped up, the less time he has to slip out of our grasp again,” Merrick interjects.

“You’ll head out in two teams. So far the squad with Sol, Hatter, Keegan and Ghost has been working so they’ll remain together. The other team will be composed of Captain Price, Gaz and Soap who will be leading the way 3 klicks ahead of your position for recon,” Elias explains.

“No Logan and Hesh?” Ghost asks, taking in the lack of the Walker brothers’ presence.

“Yes, what happened with close-air last time proves that they can detect and shoot us down, we can’t put anyone at risk. And any more people on the ground makes for less of a covert op,” Elias says. “You’re on your own, but I have faith,” he says, clapping Keegan on the back roughly.

“Hang on,” Keegan cuts in, turning to Hatter. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asks his wife. Though he didn’t doubt his wife’s strength, she had just been tested and experimented on for the last few days.

“I’m fine Keegan, this injury is nothing more than a scratch,” she says with a smirk. “Let’s get these sons of bitches.”

“Alright, everyone prep to head out then. We leave at 1900 hours,” Price orders, and they clear out of the room promptly.

~

Everyone got right to getting ready, whereas Price, Soap and Gaz had settled down for a quick nap before heading out into the field again.

“Am pure done in, lass,” Soap had said before scruffing up Sol’s hair and heading off. Not without Sol flipping him the bird, however, to which he only laughed.

Everyone had their own way of prepping for a mission, the little quirks that helped them do their best. Whether that’d be like Ghost, who just held his wife for a while as she did his eye paint. Or something niche like Soap who had to ironically enough take a bath because it ‘helped him relax and get into the zone’. Hatter definitely gave him shit for that one.

Regardless, everyone was ready to go at 1900 hours. Two armoured trucks rumbled into the parking garage.

With a signal from Price, they headed out into the night. And before long Ghost was driving off behind them.

~

“What a difficult life it is, being the best of the best,” Sol says haughtily, amusement dancing in her eyes as she fiddled with the little sun pendant on her AK-47. “We’re always being sent on missions, no break I tell you.” Hatter snorts in response, kicking her friend lightly.

“You joined the military, dumbass. You’ll get a break when you’re dead,” she says in response, and Sol sighs.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she shakes her head, but the grin on her face is still there.

It definitely was a spur-of-the-moment thing, if she was being completely honest. She was on her way to being one of the top researchers in her field, with a research position already lined up for her after finishing grad school.

While she did take self-defence classes growing up, and even as an adult in between university classes, she never pictured herself here as a Sergeant in one of the most elite teams in the world.

Funny how life played out, but she was thankful. It led her to meet all these amazing people, as well as her husband, the love of her life.

As she was lost in thought, she spots a glint in the distance, and any aloof thoughts she had been pushed to the back of her mind.

“Hang on, Si,” she says, and Ghost slows down the vehicle immediately.

“What do you see?” Hatter says, eyes trailing to where Sol was looking.

“I saw something in the distance by that old house there, reflected off of the headlights as we were making the turn,” she says, turning to Hatter.

“This…is near the old hospital. There might still be stragglers who didn’t make it out in time,” Keegan thinks out loud.

“Or infected that didn’t make it out,” Hatter says with a grimace.

“Either way we need to check it out, something feels…off,” Sol says, and Simon immediately begins driving toward it.

Sol had a sharper intuition than most, more often than not those offputting feelings led them out of what would have been sticky situations.

“Radio in ahead to Captain Price, tell them to hold at their position for now,” Ghost tells Keegan who moves to do as he says.

“Bravo 0-6, this is Delta Team,” Keegan radios in.

“Go ahead Delta, talk to me,” Price’s voice filters through.

“Calling for you to hold your position, Sol spotted something off in the distance, we’re going to go check it out.”

“Do you need backup?” Price asks.

“Negative, we’ll radio in if things get messy,”

“Copy, stay safe out there you lot,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” Keegan responds before exiting the channel.

As he does, Ghost pulls up on the abandoned house.

“Alright, we go out and scope out the area. Sol, use the heartbeat scanner to see if anything gets picked up. If yes, we take them out, clear?” Ghost instructs, and they nod before exiting the vehicle.

“Got something on the scanner, seems to be from inside the house,” Sol says, the screening lighting up her face in green against the darkness.

“NVGs down, weapons ready. We breach in three,” Hatter orders, and they gather at the entrance.

“3, 2, 1,” she says, taking point and kicking the door in. Thoroughly they check all corners of the house, only to find old furniture and no people.

“Find anything?” Ghost calls out.

“Negative,” Sol answers.

“Same here.”

“Nothing.”

“That’s weird…they should be right here,” she says, standing at the spot highlighted.

“Mouse maybe?”

“Or a bigass rat in the floors?”

“No…this scanner was designed to recognize human heartbeats only. They’re here somewhere,” she says. “Was there a basement?” she asks the group.

“No entrance that anyone could see, no,” Hatter responds. “The roof maybe?”

“Maybe, but we’re not leaving here until we find them. They could compromise this entire mission,” Ghost orders, and everyone nods before exiting the house.

Just then, Sol hears a noise, a tiny shift that she almost misses.

“The hell was that noise,” Sol whispers, and Ghost’s eyes sharpen as they scan the surrounding area. His eyes zero in on a vent on the side of the abandoned house, one just big enough to hold a human if they were desperate enough.

His finger goes to his lips before his foot shoots out and kicks the vent sharply, and the noise of horror is audible to the entire group now. Kneeling down, he yanks open the vent, reaching in and dragging out a scrawny-looking man in a dirty doctor’s coat. The familiar emblem of the Gadyuka is stitched onto the left breast pocket.

In an instant, all weapons were pointed at the man as he lay on the ground frozen in fear.

“Tell us who you are, now,” Keegan barks, his voice low and menacing. This snaps the man out of his stupor as his arms are held up in fear, but he says nothing.

“Don’t make us repeat ourselves. With the crimes your organization has committed, we have zero reasons to treat you kindly,” Hatter snarls, kicking the man’s leg harshly. He screams out in pain at that, and a tear in his pants shows that it was tightly wrapped, previously injured at some point.

“I, I am a doctor,” he says, terror seeping into his words. His voice is thick with a Russian accent, further confirming that the foreign organization somehow arrived in North America undetected.

“What was your role on base, don’t think of lying. We’ll know,” Ghost says, towering over the man who looked nothing more than an ant sprawled on the floor.

“I…helped injured soldiers when they returned,” he says meekly, and Hatter presses her boot into the man’s foot making him scream in pain.

“Oh, don’t play games,” she sneers, “you truly expect us to believe you were some normie doctor who did routine check-ups? We know what that emblem signifies, you’re a high-ranking researcher there, most likely at the forefront of the virus development. So try again. You have one more chance, or we have many other…nice ways of making you talk,” she threatens, and the man whimpers as tears stream down his face.

He didn’t look like much before, but now he just looked pathetic. As if cowering behind a powerful organization meant you were anything more than a filthy rat.

“ALRIGHT, alright,” he exclaims. “I was the second lead researcher in the development of the virus, a mycologist. That’s it!”

“That’s it,” Hatter mutters before stomping on the man's leg, making him truly scream now.

“That’s it??? You create a virus that destroys people from the inside out, is highly contagious, and threatens the entirety of humanity on Earth and say ‘that’s it’?” She snaps, anger radiating from her body. Keegan places a hand on her shoulder cautiously, and luckily that is enough to ground her back to the present.

“Sorry,” she says to him, stepping away from the man.

“Bravo 0-6 this is Delta 0-5, we need you to head back to base ASAP, we found a researcher from Gadyuka hiding at an abandoned house, can’t risk him coming along,” Ghost radios in.

“Copy, 0-5. Headed back to base now,” Price replies.

“What’s that in your pocket,” Sol says as she notices a glint from his right pocket. The man’s eyes widen as he frantically tries to move the contents out of view. But Keegan is faster, swiftly moving to intercept the man and snatch it out of his pocket.

“NO!” the man shouts but can do nothing more in his injured state.

Standing back up, everyone moves to see what Keegan had. In his hand lay a petri dish, safely secured and covered by a lid. In it was a sample of fungal mycelium, its spider-like threads stuffing the petri dish full.

Sol gasps and takes it from Keegan’s grasp, looking at it with an analytical eye.

“This…this is a game changer. Papers and bloodwork can only tell so much, but an actual sample? This could be the key to understanding the virus on a biochemical level, and maybe be able to develop a vaccine should it be spread throughout the populations,” Sol says excitedly, a childlike glow on her face.

“Looks like you were useful after all,” Ghost says before swiftly knocking the man out with the butt of his gun.

“You…really like doing that, don’t you,” Hatter says with a grimace, rubbing her head as if she was the one that was hit.

Ghost only hums, “Effective, innit?”, but still gives Hatter an apologetic look regardless.

“Let’s get this fuck back to the base and reconvene with Elias, yeah?” Keegan says, hauling the man over his shoulder like he was nothing more than a sack of coal, carrying him back to the truck.

This was the beginning of Gadyuka’s end.

[circus-complex]

Glass Mind | Chapter 3/?

Rating: Teen +

Relationships: Feng Xin/Mu Qing

Characters: Feng Xin, Mu Qing

Tags: feng xin falls ill, Canon-typical swearing, mu qing has to care for him, Febuwhump 2024, Slow Burn, Feng Xin and Mu Qing are slightly OOC, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Angst

Feng Xin falls ill, messing with his head. Mu Qing tasks himself with taking care of him. Does Mu Qing truly hate Feng Xin?

Also on AO3

Full chapter under the cut

Feng Xin grew alert as the steam touched his face. He clawed at Mu Qing’s robes, making noises of protest. Mu Qing ignored him, and set Feng Xin on the ground. The door was locked, and all the windows were made of the finest glass. There was no chance for him to escape. 

Water was already seeping into the hem of Mu Qing’s robes. He removed them, leaving only the innermost one. Folding them and putting them to the side, he sighed. Feng Xin couldn’t wash himself but…Mu Qing didn’t know the god of the southeast well enough to do it.  

Ling Wen? Mu Qing spoke into a private communication array. Who is Feng Xin closest with?

Ling Wen took a moment to respond. Well, apart from you and Xie Lian, he doesn’t have many friends. He always works alone, only with others when forced too.

I’m not his friend.

Mn, ok. 

Mu Qing groaned. He could ask Xie Lian to bathe Feng Xin, but he was probably busy with that “San Lang” of his. All of Feng Xin’s attendants were there to manage prayers, not manage the gods' basic needs.

Turning back towards Feng Xin, he crossed his arms. 

“Alright, guess I’m the one doing this”

✦✦✦

Feng Xin squealed. The floor was safe, with all the grass. But that odd man was trying to get him into the lava. That wasn’t safe.

He squirmed as the odd man – he looked familiar. Maybe he’s safe? No, he’s not. He’s trying to hurt me! Feng Xin squirmed as he was picked up, but couldn’t leave. His limbs were jelly, melting onto the floor. As he was lowered into the orange liquid, he desperately tried to claw his way out. 

Oh. It's cold. He relaxed. From the lava rose iridescent bubbles, shimmering and taunting. Feng Xin giggled as he reached up for them. His hand passed through them, and they exploded. 

Startled, Feng Xin lept back. He heard the man hiss - what was he doing here? - but he paid him no mind. He was mesmerized by the flakes of color floating down. They extended into long tendrils of light, curling around his fingers and winding up his arms. 

He stayed like that for a while. The light seemed to want to play, so he let it. It ran up and down his body, leaving a trail of foam in its wake. Another wave of light passed down his body - it was cold? - washing the trail away. 

Oh. The man was back. He grabbed Feng Xin, pulling him out of the lava. Why did he do that, didn’t he want Feng Xin in the lava? And the bubbles! They were gone! He huffed. This man was no fun.

“Why’d you take the bubbles away?” He stared at the man.

“What?”

“The bubbles! They were so shiny…” Feng Xin trailed off. The snake! It was back!

That snake. It had been trying to eat Feng Xin for the past few days. But he wouldn’t let it! 

“Feng Xin? What’s going on?” The man reached for him. 

“How do you know my name?” 

✦✦✦

“I…” Mu Qing couldn’t think of an answer. 

“Well come on! That snake is going to bite you, let's go!” Feng Xin grabbed Mu Qing’s arm, and started dragging him out of the baths. Mu Qing wasn’t sure what Feng Xin was doing, but played along. He was surprised that Feng Xin could see him, and that he was able to communicate. He’d been so distant, for him to suddenly be partially-aware of his surroundings and coherent was startling.

He played along, not wanting Feng Xin to go away again. Mu Qing was dragged back to the bedroom. Feng Xin practically pushed Mu Qing to sit on the floor, and grabbed a brush from his desk. He started to draw symbols on the floor, caging Mu Qing inside.

At first, Mu Qing thought he was trying to draw a transportation array. But the shapes on the floor resembled no such thing. They were haphazard words, scribbled in madness. Feng Xin seemed to be writing the same two characters over and over, but Mu Qing couldn’t read it. Hua Cheng’s writing looked beautiful compared to this. 

“Feng Xin? What are you writing?” 

Feng Xin didn’t respond. He just mumbled nonsense under his breath. Mu Qing sighed once again. He seemed to have slipped back into that dazed state, and who knows how long it would take for him to come out of it. He had nothing better to do, it was rather peaceful right now, so he’d just sit and wait.

[dragonsbone]

you know i want to hear more about rhaegor and korinna !!!!

ooo okay im gonna talk a bit about them separately bc there’s still so much info about them that i haven’t talked about yet hehehe ( if u want more of them together, i’ll def be happy to talk about that too heehhehe )

if you didn’t already know, im super into astrology and analyzing birth charts. so i always like to assign the big three placements of my ocs for shits and giggles. rhaegor is a scorpio ☀︎, pisces ☽, and libra ↑.

he is a lover and a fighter! homie is ruled by love and he’s not afraid to fight for what’s right. probably out of all my hotd ocs so far, he is one of the least likely to commit war crimes or atrocities bc he’s just so morally good. truly the best™️ male targaryen there is.

his dragon, calys, on the other hand, will 100% be down to commit any sort of war crimes like he will fuck shit up if u give him the chance lol

a true dilf at its finest! will 100% read books to his children, teach them how to ride their dragons ( aena ofc doesnt have a dragon but ya know, it’s the thought that counts ), and will love them very deeply. he got a lot of practice from watching over rhaenyra when she was a baby.

he is a bit of a slut ( affectionate ). rhaegor is a man of passion and also an absolutely handsome work of art so ofc he’s a bit sexually active. listen,,, who wouldn’t want a piece of that??

the messy, low man-bun is his go-to hairstyle after he returns to the crownlands. when he begins to change for the better because of his love for korinna, his hair will be more flowy and well kept bc he’s obviously in a better mindset to do self care. the power of love and hair symbolism hehehehe. 

alright alright now we gotta start her’s off the same way too. korinna’s big three are capricorn ☀︎, scorpio ☽, and sagittarius ↑.

korinna is very much team black like there wasn’t a question of where her loyalty would lie ( unlike rhaegor before the start of the dance ). she will defend rhaenyra until her dying breath. rhaenyra and korinna’s bond is so strong throughout the years like there’s no way they could ever betray each other. 

she’s such a good mother!! korinna loves all of her children equally, but she does tend to cater slightly more towards aena. she would teach them all how the stuff she’s learned over the years as a servant. though, they wouldn’t need it as they are now the prince’s children, it’s a good tool for them to know if needed! also, is HUGE on playing with hair so she’ll happily take the time to braid aena and elaera’s long hair! and occasionally her husband’s too lol

after she and rhaegor marry, it becomes extremely difficult for her to find her place. she was a girl who came from nothing and suddenly had everything. it takes a lot of time for her to accept her new role, but, unfortunately, it doesn’t get any easier from there

will definitely kill a canon character. i know that character. i know the reason. i don’t know when it will happen, but one thing you should know: it was justice with a hint of revenge ✨

[an-android-child]

OKAY SO NOW THAT I HAVE PERMISSION TO INFODUMP TO MY HEARTS CONTENT

LET'S GO

Let's start with the possibly canon ones

Thomas Wayne Jr. (oh boy oh boy do writers love this name)

First appearance: World's Finest #223

Date of first appearance: June, 1974

The Boomerang killer and also the older brother of Bruce in Earth One. Three years older than him, was presumed dead but was actually in a mental institution, put there by his own parents after a car accident when he was a baby caused him brain damage and turned him mentally unstable. Which literally makes no sense, because how did they know he was unstable, he was literally a baby. How did that work.

Anyway, Deadman possesed him for a bit for some reason and also would later die after taking a bullet meant for Bruce. Fun!

Dominique

First appearance: Batman (1940) #454

Date of first appearance: June, 1974

Okay, so this one requires a bit of context. This wonderful post talks about it way better than I could, and it's also where I took the images from.

Thomas Wayne Jr. alias Lincoln March

First appearance: Batman (2011) #1

Date of appearance: November, 2011

Mayoral candidate in the Gotham City of Prime Earth who claims to be the younger brother of Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Jr. He faked his own death for a bit and was a puppet for the Court of Owls, meant to distract Bruce long enough for a talon to kill him, but of course it didn't work. It made March realize Bruce was Batman, though. After being killed by the talon and revived, March realized the Court had betrayed him, so he went to a meeting of theirs and poisoned their drinks. He would also do a whole thing with Cluemaster and some other minor villains to try and kill Batman, to no avail.

In their "final" confrontation, Lincoln March, in a modernized talon suit, met face-to-face with Batman and revealed a lot of things I didn't really care much about but they're basically what I just told you. Oh, and also that his real name is Thomas Wayne, Jr., and he is Bruce Wayne's younger brother. Batman refuses to believe this is true, they fight, building goes boom, Batman escapes, his opponent doesn't, no body is found, you know the drill. Because of his regenerative capabilities we could never be sure if Lincoln March would return he did return but he wasn't that important ngl. He also used the alias Owlman (because of course he did).

We can never be truly sure if he's truly Bruce's brother without a DNA test, but many of the facts of his story do make sense if we assume Martha and Thomas lied. Also, it is basically stated that Bruce actually believes Lincoln is his brother, so there's that.

Btw, there's another Lincoln March in the TV Series Gotham Knights, but he's never confirmed to be Bruce's brother or to even believe he is. And the show was cancelled, so I guess will never know. I'm not gonna count him lmao, but still wanted to mention him.

And that would basically be all the possibly canon siblings. For a time DC played with the idea that Bane and Bruce were brothers with the same father, Thomas Wayne, but at the end it was proven that wasn't the case. So there's basically nothing more main continuity can give us.

beautiful banner by @happycoffeemonkey

Now that we got that shit-show out of the way, the moment we've all been waiting for! It's Elseworld time.

Saressa

First appearance: Batman/Dark Joker: The Wild

Date of first appearance: January, 1994

Older sister of Bruce in the Batman/Dark Joker: The Wild universe. She is the oldest child of two sorcerers named Majister and Lilandra who created her in the hopes that she would be able to defeat their greatest enemy, the Dark Joker. But they loved her too much to finish the ritual, so they decided to try again with another son, Bruce. They were murdered shortly after, so Bruce, turned into a wild beast, grew up in solitude as an untamed monster living in the wilderness and feeding off animals. Saressa found him in the woods and taught him what she knew so he could live up to his destiny. Shortly afterwards she basically faced the Dark Joker so he could kill her so her blood could be used to finish the ritual or some shit. The artstyle of this book is so inconsistent, I swear, every fucking panel she appears in she looks like a different character. You'd think this was a group project.

Thomas Wayne Jr. (again)

First appearance: JLA: Earth-2

Date of first appearance: September, 2000

Thomas Wayne, Jr., alias Owlman, is a leading member of the Crime Syndicate of Amerika (yes, with a K) of the Antimatter Universe. He is his world's evil counterpart of Batman, and probably one of the most well known versions of Thomas Jr. He was the elder son of Thomas and Martha, and the older brother of Bruce. After his whole family was murdered he decided to become a vigilante, but instead of fighting colorful rogues he decided to use his vast resources to take over Gotham City's underworld.

It would be years later that he discovered that his father, Thomas, survived the attack that killed his mother and younger brother, and decided to dedicate his life to killing Owlman. Awkward indeed.

When the Crime Syndicate began kidnapping people from our main Earths for some reason I can't remember, our Justice League (Batman included) were sent to retrieve the kidnapped. Thomas Jr. along with some others were banished to a prison dimension. And that's the last we ever heard of him.

Thomas Wayne Jr. (Electric boongaloo)

Fist appearance: Justice League Vol 2 #23

Date of first appearance: October, 2013

Called Owlman in his universe, Earth 3, he was the older brother of Bruce (three's a pattern), and also made Alfred kill his whole family due to his belief that his parents were wasting their fortune. At first, he didn't want to kill Bruce, but after seeing the boy trying to back away from being complicit in the murder of his own parents, he killed him too. He used his vigilante persona and vast resources untill basically the whole city was his. Even so, the death of his brother still haunted him. Fun!

While at a circus, Thomas met his own version of Richard Grayson, who he saw fit to replace the hole Bruce had left in his life after he killed him. He murdered Dick's family and used the boy's trauma to manipulate him into his perfect brother. He convinced him to be his sidekick, Talon, and when Dick was close to finding out who was the true responsible for the death of his parents.... he told him himself. Dick took the news super well, so he decided to find and kill the Joker,who in this reality is a hero, in order to demonstrate his superiority. Dick was killed, so Thomas was alone once again.

But that's basically the prequel to a whole Prime Earth dimension hoping comic run that frankly, was kinda boring. Still, the basic premise of the character is incredibly solid, no wonder he's one of the more popular versions of him.

Thomas Elliot

First appearance (as a brother of Bruce): Tales from the Dark Multiverse: Batman: Hush #1

Date of first appearance (as a brother of Bruce): January, 2021

When the Elliots and Waynes went out to watch the "Mask of Zorro" together with their sons, Martha and Thomas were shot in front of their son while walking through an alley. The Elliots, after witnessed this, decided to take Bruce in. Bruce however grew increasingly unstable due to the trauma and had to be admitted to a mental asylum. So Thomas saw an opportunity and basically killed his own parents, took over Wayne Enterprises and also became a senator. Good things didn't last for him though, after all this story was called Batman: Hush for a reason. I don't think he's much older than Bruce, if not the same age.

Samantha Thomas Wayne

First appearance: Pennyworth: The Origin of Batman's Butler, Season 2, "The Lion and Lamb"

Date of first appearance: April 11, 2021

Older sister of Bruce Wayne, we'll never know by how much because the show she was born in, Pennyworth: The Origin of Batman's Butler, was cancelled, but she's at least five years older than Bruce.

Having grown up in London with her mom Martha (government agent) and her father Thomas (former agent, now a doctor), Samantha, or Sam, spends most of her time with her nanny Mary Pennyworth (who is Alfred Pennyworth's mother) and a housekeeper, Gladys. She had a cute relationship with Alfred, but I doubt will ever see more of her again. A shame.

Kal-El (not to be confused with Clark Kent)

First appearance: Dark Knights of Steel #1

Date of first appearance: January, 2022

He is Bruce's older half-brother. His parents fled the destruction of Krypton while Lara was pregnant. When they reached the Earth of the universe of Dark Knights of Steel, Lara gave birth shortly after. His parents became close advisors and friends to King Thomas and Queen Martha.

When Kal-El was still a baby Martha had a bastard child with Jor-El, Bruce. Kal-El always thought of Bruce as a younger brother, which of course he did this is Tom Taylor we're talking about here. Kal-El, Bruce and their younger sister Zala grew up in the castle together.

After Thomas was murdered and Martha was mortally wounded, she begged with her dying breath for Jor-El and Lara to rule, which is kind of a dick move if you ask me. After Jor-El told Bruce he was his father, Bruce refused to claim the throne despite the Els encouraging him to, as he believed a bastard could not be king. So, Jor-El and Lara became the rulers of the land and Kal-El became the heir. This caused a rift between them. Or something. I never finished the run, I just don't like Tom Taylor's style.

Clark Kent (not to be confused with Kal-El)

First appearance (as a brother of Bruce): World's Finest #172

Date of first appearance (as a brother of Bruce): December, 1967

In this imaginary story, after Bruce's parents are murdered he's adopted by Jonathan and Martha Kent so that Clark can have a brother around the same age as him (how did the Kents manage to adopt a millionaire orphan from another city without even being foster parents in the eyes of the law? Who knows!). On this Earth, called Earth 172, Bruce Kent grew up as a grade A student while focusing his attention on science, criminology and fighting techniques (the usual). On his teenage years, Bruce created a masked identity to fight crime, Batboy, and learned the secret identity of his brother, Superboy. So they became an unstoppable duo.

As an adult, Bruce Kent received the inheritance from his parents and moved back to Wayne Manor, this time with the Kent Family (who had the inheritance before this? Who knows!). As the Kent brothers, their activities became notorious as the famous team of Superman and Batman. They were eventually confronted by Lex Luthor, who kidnapped the Kents and killed them before Batman could save them. When Clark returned to Gotham, he learned about the tragedy and, in order to help Bruce, who was going down a grief spiral, he decided the healthiest choice was to take his brother to therapy.

Who am I kidding he took him to the fucking 30th Century and asked the Legion (who I believe all have superpowers) to make Batman a legionnaire. Batman. No powers Batman. That Batman. Meanwhile, Clark stayed comfortably in his own time and remained the protector of Gotham, while Bruce did the same thing but time-displaced. Because that's how you help someone who has lost his parents to brutal murder twice. Clark, what the fuck is inside your brain I wonder.

Joseph Wayne

First appearance: Batman/Lobo #1

Date of first appearance: April, 2000

Twin of Bruce, so basically the same age. When their father and mother died, Joe Chill kidnapped Joseph (for some reason). Bruce vowed to find him or something. Whatever Joe did, Joseph went insane and became the Joker, while Bruce became Batman.

Scarface set a bounty on the Joker (for some reason), and Lobo himself came to Earth to collect it (for some reason), but the Joker paid him a larger sum to discredit Batman and destroy his reputation before killing him (for some reason). Basically, half of what happens in Batman/Lobo is nonsensical, and the other half is stupid. It's a very unserious one-shot, with a peculiar artstyle.

Rochelle Wayne

First appearance: Batman: Reign of Terror

Date of first appearance: February, 1999

Younger sister of Bruce that you already know of! She doesn't do much in this short story, but her personality shines though every panel she's in, and when Bruce was caught in a trap set up by the Committee led and was about to face the guillotine (we are in France, after all), she was there to rescue him! The art is beautiful and the plot, though simple, is quite fun to read, though it's very clear it's american propaganda. She's never called Robin in the text, but she's obviously inspired by them, at the very least her costume. I wished more people knew about her. She's the reason I found your post, btw, I was looking through the Rochelle tags lmao.

Unnamed baby sister

First appearance: Batman: Dark Knight of the Round Table #1

Date of first appearance: December, 1998

Unnamed baby sister of Bruce. Bruce is like nine or ten years older than her, give or take. I wished she had a name. Her mom's name is Isadora, so maybe that could be hers too? But Thomas and Bruce don't share the same name or anything in the story, augh. Nothing's confirmed and she dies super quickly. Sucks :(

Zala Jor-El

First appearance: Dark Knights of Steel #2

Date of first appearance: February, 2022

She is Bruce's younger half-sister. She was born on Earth of Dark Knights of Steel. Her parents being royal advisors to King Thomas and Queen Martha made it so that her and her brother Kal-El were raised in the castle alongside Martha's bastard son with Jor-El, Bruce. She and her brother didn't know that last part, of course.

After Thomas and Martha were murdered, Jor-El and Lara became the rulers of the kingdom, making Zala a princess. She's also dating the Amazonian Diana, so that's cool. Shes basically a Kara clone with slightly different name so they could make her a lesbian. Because even in Elseworlds, Tom Taylor DC is a coward.

Dexter Dent

First appearance: Flashpoint: Batman - Knight of Vengeance #1

Date of first appearance: August, 2011

Even a younger adopted brother of Bruce. Son of Harvey and Gilda in the Flashpoint Timeline, he's taken in by a Batman Thomas Wayne after the death of his parents. He had a twin sister who was killed by his mom, Gilda.

So yeah, technically a sibling, even though Flashpoint Bruce is six feet under. I really like the comic he's from, I think it was a very fun read.

Also technically speaking, because Alfred (in the Mainstream Universe) took in Bruce as his legal charge, Julia Pennyworth would be Bruce's adopted sister. Fun!

So yeah, that would be all the siblings that I know of! Half of them are Thomas Jr.

Do tell me if i've missed anyone!

how many siblings does Bruce have across canons? Like ik there’s a Thomas jr and there’s also Rochelle from that French Revolution elseworlds or whatever its considered but that’s hardly all of them right

[blorbosondeck]

fic rec masterlist

canon divergent/finale fix its

Anamnesis

THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!

"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas

GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face

The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts​

repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it

“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”

Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?

VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!! 

"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."

Keep Your Love Alive

okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much

"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"

The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas​

this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️

“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“

Ascend by @wanderingcas​ 

THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss

“Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?”

Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles

i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen

Closer (isn't close enough)

are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.

“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”

You and Your Husband

it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3

"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."

Tall Grass

miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3 

Invictus

a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it

“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.

Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.

They still have someone they need to save.”

Unchained Link

post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!

"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."

fun and time unspecified

Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5

very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️

"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."

The Way We Were

Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual

"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"

While You Were Sleeping

this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up. 

aus/rewrites

The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript

i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it

“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“

absolute riots

An Ineffably Profound Bond

i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this

"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.

When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."

Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige

cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it

“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“

Stray Cat Strut

a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this

"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.

Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"

canon compliant or slight canon divergence

Give

by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic

Punch Like Bones 

short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten

[stxleslyds]

Jason doesn't show up in DC's animated series (though the does "spiritually" show up as Tim Drake in Season 2 of Batman the Animated Series).

Jason has a strong presence in the video games, though. So what is your opinion on Jason's characterization for Arkham Knight? He is a DLC for the Injustice games as well. Judy be warned that I did watch some clips of Arkham Knight and the torture was too gruesome for me.

RED HOOD IN VIDEO GAMES.

Hey there friend, thank you for the ask!

INJUSTICE 2.

I had to do some research on Red Hood’s appearances in the Injustice games because I was never really in touch with that story. Here is what I knew about it, there are two games for PC, one of them is Injustice and the other is Injustice 2, the games also have the comic books that give context/background to the lore of the game.

I used to play Injustice: Gods Among Us on mobile phone, and I had Jason as a playable character there, I also found out way too late that “Nightwing” wasn’t really Dick Grayson, it was Damian because he took on the mantle after he and the rock killed Dick in the comic (forever mad at that ridiculous death and the kinda scary art that comic had).

I looked for information about Red Hood’s backstory in wikis and all that because I refuse to read an alternate universe book written by Tom Taylor, there are things that I am just not willing to do.

All in all, I think that this Jason was in surface level, the same as his canon comic counterpart up until the time of his resurrection. Given that the world was at war and the League of Assassins wasn’t working openly, he and the others had to live in the shadows, he seems to have been trained proficiently by both Batman and the LoA so he is a very hardcore opponent. There are some bits of his story with Damian and a place called Gorilla City that I do not understand because I haven’t read the comics but I am fine without it.

The thing is that this Jason is pretty cool, he sticks to his morals and fights for what he believes is right, he doesn’t look like the kinda guy that takes sides in this war which is probably the best idea. Both Batman and Superman seem to be on the wrong side of history with they ideals.

What I did see and I loved eternally was the ending to Red Hood’s story, I will link the video here! But I will also copy and paste all that he says there because I think it’s really important and where I was able to see more of his characterization.

"That. Felt. Good. Titanium composite hollow point bullets with a C4 kicker. Fastest, most explosive ammo in the world. I made them myself. With the invasion over, Bruce and Superman started fighting again. I wasn't down with either of them. On the one hand, the Regime's right. Scumbag murderers and rapists deserve to die. But on the other hand, I'm no fan of government authority. Especially the dictatorial variety.

So, while the world's finest fight each other, I fight for the people. The weak. The innocent. Anyone who can't protect themselves. When they cry out for a saviour, I'll answer. As for the criminals that threaten them? They need to know that their actions have consequences. That the Red Hood is coming for them.”

This is excellent, I absolutely love this, this Jason knows his morals and doesn’t bow down to anyone and in the end, he is truly a hero to the people that need heroes the most.

Him saying that he believes that some criminals have to die but that he can’t really join Superman’s side because he cannot associate with it because he isn’t a fan of dictatorial ideas, I love this man.

I feel like this is a fair characterization for Jason, I believe that if something along the lines of what happens in Injustice happens in current continuity then Jason wouldn’t join any sides, he wouldn’t be neutral per se but he will fight for his own ideals. And his ideals in most universes are protecting people and I think that’s great. I love to see a world where Jason is seen as more intelligent and put together than the Batman.

Something that I find quite funny and interesting from this game is the dialogues that characters have with each other when they fight, I found this video compilation where you can see all the dialogues between Red Hood vs Robin (Damian Wayne), they are so fun and I love the animations too.

BATMAN: ARKHAM KNIGHT.

Oh, ArkhamVerse Jason, my beloved.

He is, to me, the epitome of this meme.

I have actually watched the whole game playthrough, several times, and Jason had a DLC as the Red Hood for that game (Nightwing has one too and I will talk about it later because I love this version of him). And, yes, the torture scene is very gruesome, it was incredibly sad and it made me feel bad. But I also think that they made it that way so it could support the kind of storytelling they were going for.

The reality is that this Jason suffered his whole life, and was constantly introduced to lifestyles that he never wanted to be part of. The world around this Jason wasn’t kind at all to him and there is a long list of people who did him wrong.

Although ArkhamVerse Jason didn’t die, like his comic counterpart did, he suffered the most. And his suffering really drove him to be the best version of an unhinged Jason Todd. But it’s clear, his brutality and murder intent isn’t laced with his Red Hood persona or at least not on the same level as it is with his Arkham Knight persona.

This Jason’s characterization works to perfection, but it only works that way because he was well developed within the game lore and the comics. This Jason was extremely well trained, he is probably the smartest version of Jason, his mind and his level of preparedness are unparalleled when it comes to other Jason Todd variants (a little MCU Loki talk right there).

I would go as far as to say that this Jason would be an excellent match to peak Dick Grayson from before New 52 in comics. Those two would clash so immensely, but man, it would be one hell of an intellectual and physical fight. Two Kings doing what they do best.

Anyway, for now take my word for how well characterized Jason is in the ArkhamVerse, I will make a post were I deep dive more on his character both in game and comics. There is so much to say about him, he is truly interesting and very complex.

Now, I will be a little cheeky and I will use this ask as an opportunity to talk about my man, ArkhamVerse Nightwing aka Pretty Boy.

I love him so much! In the game when you get to meet him (I will link the video here! it’s five minutes long, and worth the watch) you get to see both Nightwing’s and Dick’s personalities. Nightwing is fun and relaxed, he is a little bit cocky and doesn’t let Batman be a pain in his ass, he is truly a beast. Although he is never seen without the mask in a moment when he is alone with Bruce you can really see Dick’s personality shine through. He obviously has had issues with Bruce in the past but there is also this palpable respect coming from both of them to the other. Bruce wants to protect Dick but he acts like a jerk instead of telling him what is on his mind. Dick wants to help Bruce at all costs, he refuses to leave Gotham until they solve something that he was already working on before Bruce needed his help.

There is also this sort of goodbye scene between the two (I will link it here!) that is extremely sad because Dick doesn’t believe Bruce when he tells him that he is proud of him. Dick cuts him off just when Bruce was trying to open up and I think that scene speaks volumes about how rough their relationship was. Dick never finds out that Bruce was “dying” after being infected with the Joker’s blood/gas, so it’s very bittersweet.

There is also the Nightwing DLC, where we get to see Dick being the best of the best, he is so skilled and funny and smart. It is amazing how much this game made me love their Nightwing even though he doesn’t appear much, his dynamic with Penguin is just perfect, Dick literally makes Penguin’s life very difficult. All of the people working with Penguin kinda fear Dick a little bit, some of them are even impressed by his skills.

Oh and, when Nightwing gets captured at some point in the game, Penguin’s men are saying something along the lines of “I was sure Batman will come in” “how come?” “what’s tied up downstairs and getting the crap beat out of it?” “Oh yeah, Nightwing” and that is so true, if I were Batman, I will also risk my life for Nightwing.

I just love Nightwing, he makes me so happy! He is the best here!

Anyway, enough of me loving Nightwing uncontrollably, I will make a separate post where I only talk about ArkhamVerse Jason so, yeah, be ready for that one because I love that Jason too, he is hot.

[mysoftboybensolo]

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 13: The Holidays

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, Victorian Christmas, mentions of past abuse, but much fluff! I had done my research on what Christmas was like back then, as well as the Hanukah dates and it seems 1897 was a big year; “Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” was published in September of 1897, electric Christmas lights were growing in popularity and the unification of the boroughs in New York was official on New Years. And there is your history lesson of the day.

The air grew colder as Laszlo and Evelina’s relationship grew warmer. Evelina was spending more time with the team, just as Laszlo was becoming more and more acquainted with Evelina’s opera friends. Compared, they were a more rambunctious group, and she knew that Laszlo had his limits, but admired him for trying so hard. Maria often helped Laszlo along when Evelina was not by his side and he felt immensely grateful to her for guiding him through the corral. At first, her opera friends hadn’t been sure of Laszlo, unsure of this man who makes a living in psychoanalyzing people, who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere, but they always caught the spark of joy in his eyes when Evelina came beside him, the way he tried so hard for her. Even if he couldn’t keep up with them, they still saw the utter devotion between the pair and that was enough for them to approve the relationship.

It was a time for the singers to rest themselves for The Nutcracker to be performed, and a real treat for them all. It had done so well last Christmas that the opera house had decided to do it again, and who knows, perhaps it will become a Christmas tradition.

As November closed in, Evelina had been helping Sara scout out locations for her new agency, hoping that she’ll find it before the weather turned too cold to be out scouting. As they looked around a space, Evelina asked Sara a few questions. “What will you require of your workers to do?”

“Just as any other detective agency will have, secretaries, detectives. Roosevelt has agreed to let the officers help us whenever we need it, which must mean he bears no ill will towards my leaving. Hmm, no, too small. I need at least four rooms; this will not do.” They stepped out into the cool air, leaving them both to shiver. “Winter certainly is coming, there is no doubt.”

“Yes, that shall mean Christmas!” Evelina replied excitedly. “It’s my favorite time of year. Everything looks so magical with the snow and the good cheer, and of course the music.”

“Well, then you might convince Laszlo to have a party this year. He doesn’t celebrate it, at least, from what I have known of him. I wonder if it comes from an unhappy memory,” Sara mused.

“Then I shall make it my duty to give him a Christmas full of happiness. The opera will be performing The Nutcracker, perhaps I will invite him to a performance then have a party. It’ll only be a small affair, you, John, and the Isaacson Brothers.”

Sara looked at her strangely then asked, “You are aware that they are Jewish, don’t you?”

“I am more than aware, in fact, I know that it starts on the nineteenth of December and ends on the twenty-seventh. And it doesn’t have to necessarily be a Christmas party, but a holiday party. A celebration of simply being together and friends. Surely, Laszlo couldn’t object to that.”

Wrapping her arm around Evelina’s, Sara couldn’t help but to smile. “Not when you put it that way, he wouldn’t.”

Laszlo visited just shortly after the ladies returned home, feeling too frozen to go any further. “And how has the property hunting been going for you?”

Sara groaned, “Don’t mention it. It feels as if I am never going to find the perfect place. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to get myself a good stiff drink,” she huffed as she went off to the kitchen, leaving Evelina and Laszlo alone in the den.”

Now was the perfect time for her to ask the question. “Laszlo, Christmas is coming soon, and I was wondering what it is that you do for the holidays?”

“Well, Christmas Eve, I spend it with the children who are left behind at the institute, watch them open their gifts in the morning then return home for a quiet day in.”

“Oh, Laszlo,” she said, “I love that you take care of your children, but what about yourself? Doesn’t it get to be a bit lonely?”

He pursed his lips in thought then said, “Well, yes, I suppose, but it was better than what I used to have when I was younger. Those were the better days. We hosted a fine Christmas party, my father was at his best and my mother wore her finest, and the house looked like a picture book. But” he said, with matter-of-fact tone, “When the party was over, it wasn’t so picturesque.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she softly affirmed.

“No, I want to, and we promised, no secrets.” It was true, after the absolute confusion that came from not sharing their feelings and the disaster that followed, they had agreed that nothing would be held back. “Santa was not something told in my household, but rather the fear of God. He’d make me read the bible which involved the birth of Christ, but any little flaw, hesitation or stutter and he’d beat me while calling me a blasphemer for ruining the scripture.”

She wanted to ask how that was better than the usual days, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. “My mum died just a week before Christmas, and to celebrate it without her was awful. Winston was not manageable during those times,” she paused after the mention of her brother, and Laszlo saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “When he was locked up, that first Christmas, my father broke down, he felt he had broken his promise to my mother in keeping the family together. Even though I told him that he was not to blame for Winston’s actions, every year after, I could see the echo of pain in his eyes. This will be my first Christmas without any of them.”

Laszlo lifted his hand, unsure if he ought to reach out and comfort her, and knowing that she’d not only appreciate it, but that he’d have to get used being open with another, he placed a hand on top of hers, which rested on her lap. It was the right move to do, as it had made her smile and lean in to rest her head against his shoulder. Laszlo felt a small surge of pride in himself, he was doing better in showing intimacy and he liked it.

Having a party to plan helped to fill Evelina’s free time from the opera, but most importantly, it allowed her the chance to make a surprise for Laszlo. Thanks to her covert cleverness, she found out which children will be spending Christmas at the institute and with the permission of the staff, she managed to pull them together to work on a surprise for him. They nearly got caught once, Laszlo came back from a meeting a bit sooner than Evelina expected, but she managed to play it off well, saying that she had been bored and wanted to play the piano for the children.

Stevie proved to be rather helpful in preparing Christmas at Laszlo’s home and was more than happy to be commissioned by Evelina to help with the planning. He scoured out the best decorations and the best tree to have standing in Laszlo’s den, and when he was finished with it, even he could admit he did a rather fine job. There was one thing that Laszlo had a hand in the decorations, and it was the purchase of these new electric string lights, meant to replace candles, and it was a smart choice, and in Evelina’s words, magical. As Stevie was busy with the decorations, Evelina was off to work with the invites and the Isaacson Brothers were surprised to say the least but were still very pleased to be invited to such a party, knowing how much it meant to her. Sara had been the first unofficial guest invited and John most certainly was not one to pass up a party.

Christmas Eve arrived and Evelina dressed herself in her green and red velvet walking gown, truly getting into the spirit and went to the institute to see Laszlo. Many of the parents came to take their children home for the holidays and as much as it was a wonderful sight to see parents not forsake their little ones, it was doubly heartbreaking to see those few whose parents never came. It was Laszlo and Evelina’s special mission to make sure that they still received the experience that they would have had if they were home, even carrying on the duty of decorating the tree and great hall for the children to enjoy. Most of the staff could go home to spend it with their family, but there were a few who did not have a family of their own who stayed and happily joined in the festivities with the children.

Daylight had gone when was a surprise waiting at the front door, and who would have guessed that Santa would come and see the children of the Kreizler Institute? Watching John all dressed up as Santa was a delight, especially when the younger children climbed on his lap and gave “Santa” a hug and wished him a Merry Christmas. It didn’t take much convincing, for John thought it a wonderful idea and he could not say no to Evelina’s sweet intentions, even if it made him look a bit silly. Sara was the unofficial Mrs. Claus, dressed in her lovely green evening gown and many of the children loved going up to her and asking questions of the North Pole, truly convinced that she was indeed the wife of Santa. She watched John take in the children’s excitement with great stride and enjoyment and thought it the finest thing she had ever seen, and her heart swelled at the thought of him doing this for the children.

When John and Sara left, it was time to show off Evelina’s surprise. Gathering the children up, she sat at the piano and began to play. Laszlo watched with wonder and love as Evelina led the children in a most heavenly rendition of Ding Dong Merrily On High, the children looked so happy to be a part of something. He wasn’t even bothered by the religious overtones of the song; he just enjoyed the sweet voices that sang in perfect harmony and was touched to see that his love put so much effort into surprising him.

Soon, it got to be bedtime and the children were escorted back their rooms, eagerly awaiting Santa’s arrival and the staff to their rooms. Usually, Laszlo was the only one to take up the duty of stuffing the stockings and providing the children with gift, making sure each one got an equal amount from Santa. Evelina stayed with him and happily helped to stuff the stockings, despite her own sleepiness. It was an endearing sight, the pair of them on the floor, helping to stuff stockings and wrap presents.

“How long have you done this?”

“Ever since the institute was opened. It was quite sad to see those children left behind to have nothing, so I made sure to carry on the tradition of Santa. You may think that I do not agree with the idea of telling fantastical stories to children, but I think it is important in the development of a child. It stimulates their creativity as well as teaches them lessons.”

Evelina smiled and started with, “Don’t laugh, but I still believe in Santa. Oh, I don’t mean that there is an actual person who goes about in a flying sleigh and gives presents to all children around the world, but the idea of him. Do you remember back in September there was that article answering a little girl’s question of if there was a Santa? That article was a wonderful summation of how I feel about Santa. How there is someone who can be full of good cheer and selflessness and the possibility that we could be just like him. Like this, right now. The fact that you go out of your way to make sure these children have a merry Christmas, to never make them feel left out, it is very Kris Kringle of you. And I am sure you’d look dashing in red.” His deep blush only proved her right.

It was nearing midnight when they had finished and left the institute and despite the chill, they walked through the snowy streets, enjoying the calm and winter beauty. “I am sorry if this wasn’t what you had imagined you’d spend your Christmas Eve.”

“Indeed, it was far better than I could hope. To help give children a good time, to create magic and now walking home with you, it is wonderful.” The church bells tolled, and they stopped to listen to the lovely knells as it chimed Christmas day. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”

Laszlo smiled, knowing that she gave him at last an endearment. “Frohe Weihnachten, meine liebe.”

Laszlo came to pick up Evelina early on Christmas day so she could be at the institute before the children woke and watch with Laszlo as they opened their gifts from Santa as well as from Laszlo himself. She loved the glimmer in his eyes when looking at the children enjoying themselves, forgetting their woes and problems, glad to see that they would have a normal childhood that he never had. Once he was sure that the children were taken care of, the pair went off to enjoy Christmas themselves. It had been purely coincidental, but Laszlo wore his dashing green vest and tie while Evelina wore her lovely red satin dress, looking as if they had coordinated with the holiday and each other, anyone who didn’t know them would have been certain they were husband and wife.

The party was beginning at noon, giving time to everyone that was coming to enjoy their morning and get ready to spend it together. Sara had been the first to arrive, no surprise, the Isaacson Brothers came, Marcus brought along his dear Esther and her daughter, and then John. Laszlo had almost thought that all the guest had arrived, when Stevie entered and said, “We’ve got two more guests!”

Laszlo looked perplexed, for who else could come, and Evelina watched in amusement as his mouth fell agape as Cyrus walked in with his niece, Joanna, looking rather fine in their Sunday best. Laszlo jumped up from his seat and went to his old employee and friend. “Cyrus! How are you? I didn’t know you were coming.”

“No, but Miss Lind did. Stevie brought Miss Lind to my work and she had personally invited me to the party, as well as Joanna. It was wonderful of her to come to me personally.”

Evelina stood and warmly greeted Cyrus and Joanna. “I am so glad you came. Laszlo told me so much of you and I just had to properly get to know his dear friend.”

“And I am honored to know the woman who could convince him to throw such a party,” Cyrus laughed heartily.

Evelina had been a wonderful hostess, making sure everyone had been attended to, even making sure Stevie felt welcomed in the celebrations and had helped Lucius feel a bit more at ease with the help of Joanna, of which the pair seemed quite intrigued by each other. Laszlo watched in wonder of how she could manage to move around with grace, kindness and energy when he still had difficulty to be as open to those of whom he feels are his friends. He admired her and was honored to be the man of whom she loved above others.

The afternoon was spent playing games, Blind Man’s Bluff, Yes and No, and Charades. Laszlo had sat out of Blind Man’s Bluff, but allowed himself to be dragged into Charades and Yes and No. He was afraid of appearing to look ridiculous, but Evelina argued that everyone was doing the same, so they all looked the same amount of ridiculousness. The luncheon was informal, people made their own plates and sat around Laszlo’s den, like they all were old friends, and it was a kind of homey feeling that Laszlo had never felt before, it was warm, safe, good.

It would not be a good party without a mistletoe, at least according to John, who hung it over his friend’s head and teased that someone ought to kiss him or else he will. Evelina more than happily rose to the challenge, making it the second kiss that the pair had shared. She challenged John to hang it over his head and get a kiss, or else he’ll have to kiss the lizard at the institute, and just as she hoped, Sara decided to help him out by placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, but he turned on accident and the pair had kissed on the lips. The blush on their faces told so much and Evelina buried her face in Laszlo’s chest to try and stop her smile from being noticed, but she spotted something beyond him. Moving towards it, she couldn’t help but to admire the beautiful piano. Laszlo came up beside her and said, “You may play on it whenever you wish. It’ll be nice to see that old thing getting some use. I haven’t played in so long.”

“You played?” She had never known that Laszlo used to play, at least before the incident.

“Yes. I was quite good.”

“Better than good,” Sara interjected, coming in the conversation, hoping to escape her situation. “His name was in all the papers; he could have been a great pianist.”

“Why don’t we do gifts?” Evelina suggested, hoping to prevent Laszlo from falling into his darker thoughts, and she excitedly handed out her gifts. They weren’t expensive gifts, but they were heartfelt and personal to each, and that meant more than anything in the world, even Stevie, who hadn’t expected to get a gift and didn’t usually like to be sentimental, but even he couldn’t refuse the copy of An Anarchic Adventure by Jules Verne, his favorite author. Laszlo had received a copy of The Psychology of Emotions by Théodule-Armand Ribot, of whom Laszlo had been fascinated with.

Laszlo made himself go last, giving everyone incredible gifts; Stevie getting his very first shaving kit as he was now a young man, Esther and her daughter fine new dresses, to name a few, and lastly went to Evelina, giving her a box. When she opened it, it was a beautiful toiletry box, made of a dark wood and lined with pink velvet. Opening one of the drawers, she noticed two large and full bottles of her perfume, ‘Fantasia de Fleurs’. “Oh, Laszlo! This is too much! And on top of that, two bottles of my perfume?”

“It is not too much,” he countered, “And besides, it is for selfish reasons too, for I love your scent, perhaps a bit too much,” he admits with a blush across his cheeks. “No one else should buy this for you but myself.”

It was true; when she did first receive this, it was meant to be a bribe gift from one of the patrons at the opera, but she loved the scent too much to toss it away. To have Laszlo buy it for her not only was sweet, but intimate, and she liked that he felt way, wanting no other to buy her perfumes. Sara had been the one to inform which perfume it was and told Laszlo that she had mentioned about getting a box of her own, and he made sure to get the finest box with the two largest bottles so she wouldn’t have to.

The Isaacson Brothers had left with their guests and just before everyone was to go off on their own, Evelina made sure to have a few carols played and sung. John and Sara had quite nice voices which blended very well together, Cyrus deep and warm, and Joanna and Stevie wholeheartedly sang. Laszlo’s voice was not deep or powerful, but it was soft and comforting, and it sounded wonderful to hear him sing Silent Night in German, a request that Evelina had asked, and he did only for her. When he sang, all stopped and listened, and all Laszlo could see or know was Evelina, playing the piano, with a grace and power that reminded him of his youth. Instead of painful memories, it made him smile and happy.

Cyrus and his niece left to have dinner with their family, John to his grandmother’s, leaving Sara and Stevie to join Evelina and Laszlo to the opera for The Nutcracker. This had been Stevie’s first time to the opera and the wonder in his eyes was so enduring and how he watched as the story enfolded before his eyes. In the dark of the auditorium, Evelina had reached her hand over to Laszlo’s, and held it. He looked over at her and wordlessly, he thanked her for a wonderful Christmas.

The good cheer from Christmas continued to carry on for the next few days as New Year’s was approaching and for good reason. The New York government had made the decision to unite the five boroughs of the city to create what would be nicknamed “Greater New York” and it was a wonderful reason to celebrate.

It was a momentous occasion, one that Evelina wished to see and thanks to Laszlo’s influence, they managed to watch it all happen close by and safe away from the mad crowd and the pouring rain. As the New Year rang, everyone watched in wonder as fireworks blasted in the sky, cannons fired, steamboats blowing their horns and brass bands played their hearts out, for when the new year rang, the new flag had unfurled over city proclaiming it’s celebration, the birth of the City of New York.

“Oh, darling,” Evelina gasped, “Just think, we are lucky to have seen this happen. To see a city come together as one, it’s beautiful!”

Laszlo wrapped his arms around Evelina’s waist and placed his head in the crook of her neck as they watched the city celebrate outside, “1898 shall be a happy year. I am sure of it.” She turned her head and shared their third kiss but first kiss of their new year and turned back to watch the merriment.

It then struck him right then and there, something that he thought would never be possible, something he’d never have, and yet it was here in his arms, and he would not let it go so easily. Now, it was just the matter of asking the question.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl​ @cazzyimagines​, @scuttle-buttle​, @violetmuses​ @flutterskies​ @sokoviandelights​ @rumblelibrary​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @somethingthatsaysbubbles​ @alindeluce​  and @barnesxnobles

[ithebookhoarder]

Could I get something for valentines day to do with the Shelby gang? I really don't mind what or who. I just feel like I need a little love for the day...

Valentines Day Head-Canons for the Shelby Family

A/N: Of course you can, anon! Hope you have a great day, whether you’re celebrating or not. It’s just a day, really, so I hope this cheers you up ;) Sending so much love x 

Masterlist:

Arthur: 

This man would be nervous as hell that he’d mess up valentines day with you. He’s not exactly known for being the romantic of the family, nor does he have the sophistication of his younger siblings. In fact, he’s sometimes surprised you’re even with him at all. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, though. Oh no, this man is going all out for the day and nothing is too much for you. He’ll have asked everyone, and I mean everyone, for advice about what to do to make the day special. 

He’s not a many of many words so he lets his actions do the talking for him, giving you a massive bouquet of flowers as he comes to collect you for the evening. 

“Arthur, they’re beautiful. You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for me. I mean, you even got orchids - my favourites. How did you know?”

“I remember you told me before, eh? When we were at that place down in London. The one with the fancy window displays.”

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

But that’s Arthur. He’s utterly head over heels for you, which is probably why he turns bright red as you kiss him on the doorstep before hurrying back inside to put them in some water. 

He’d also make sure to open every door for you the entire night, refusing to let you even lift so much as a finger. 

In fact, he even pulls your chair out for you in the restaurant he’s taking you to, glaring at the waiter who was going to do it, in a clear sign to back away if he wants to escape with his life. 

“Arthur. I saw that. Behave.”

“I’m on my best behaviour, love. Promise.” 

“Oh really? What a shame, as I had kind of hoped you wouldn’t be, considering that I’m wearing your present underneath this dress.”

Arthur almost combusts there and then. 

Screw dinner - he wants to devour you and only you. Maybe that’s why he practically drags you out of the door at the end of the night, making you laugh as you hurry after him, the two of you fumbling with each other like horny teenagers.  

Needless to say, you spend the rest of the night wrapped in a tangle of limbs, lost in an haze of pleasure as you gift one another with your bodies. 

John:

Now, considering his kids and the fact they are more than a handful, he knows just how important time spent with just the two of you is. That would be his first and biggest gift, getting one of the family to agree to watch the hell spawn long enough for you two to spend some time alone together. 

It’s just you and him for 24 hours of uninterrupted bliss, with no crying children or screaming babies to think about. 

True, it would be weird at first to have the house so quiet, but that’s exactly what you need for you and John to just talk to one another about anything and everything you’ve missed over the past few weeks. After all, he’d probably have been so busy with work he feels like he’s hardly seen you recently. 

He’s also remarkably in-tune with you and knows exactly how to spoil you rotten. 

“You do so much for me and the kids, it’s the least I can do, right? You deserve the world, but I guess I’ll have to do, eh?”

Who knew John Shelby was such a softie?

He’d have the day mapped out down to the finest detail: Breakfast in bed? check. A hot bath with wine and candles? Check. That new dress you had your eye on when you last went into town? Check. Making love for hours on every surface of the house? Triple check. 

He knows how lucky he is to have you and would spend all day making sure you knew. 

“At this rate, we’ll be having another little one to be bribe Polly to watch next year.”

“John Shelby! I swear to god I am not having another baby-“

“So you want me to put my clothes back on and not fuck you again?”

You wisely say nothing and kiss him instead. 

“As I thought.”

Tommy: 

Considering how busy he normally is, the only gift you could ever want from him was that of time. Time away from the stresses of the company or his family and their never ending messes. 

It’s why you’re eager to subtly remind him about the date every chance you get in the weeks preceding it. 

Little do you know, he’s perfectly aware of the day. In fact, he has plans of his own cooked up for the both of you… you just didn’t need to know that yet. 

It makes the surprise all the more satisfying as he wakes you early the morning of, peppering you with kisses and encouraging you to get dressed. 

“I thought people usually tried to get people undressed on Valentines day?”

“Patience, love. It’s worth it, I promise.”

You laugh and trust him, unable to deny him anything when he looks genuinely happy for once. That in itself is a gift, as is the chance to spend the day riding with him around the estate you called home. 

Tommy is happiest on horse back, and you grin as you eye him clambering on his horse out front. 

You’re quick to follow, not surprised to see he’d had your horse readied too. He really had thought this out, down to the route you take. 

“This way, there are no phone calls or fucking distractions,” he explains, relieved at the utter delight in your eyes. “Not unless one of the staff want to grab a horse and come find us. Good luck to them.”

“They’d need it, especially if they’re stupid enough to risk me shooting them for disturbing us. They’d be idiots.”

Tommy laughs. 

Eventually, he’d stop you both, just on the edge of the woods, revealing the next surprise as he pulls out a blanket and basket (prepared with Frances’s help, of course). 

“A picnic, Tommy?” 

“I told you it was a surprise.” 

It’s the best surprise as you both sit there, drinking and laughing as the sky turns dark. 

That’s when he lights a fire for you both, letting you huddle close by the flames, eyes gazing at the stars above you. 

You listen to him telling you all about the constellations and the stories he learned as a child. The sound of his voice is heavenly and you could easily listen to him all night. 

So much so, you’re quick to wish the night would never end, letting you two stay like this, wrapped peacefully in each other’s arms forever. 

Finn:

This literal angel is sweet as hell. Like, you better be prepared for the hand made card he’ll have made you… with Polly’s help, of course. He isn’t a hundred percent sure his spelling would have been right otherwise, but for you he’s willing to make the effort to try and write it for you. After all, you’ve more than likely been trying to help him learn to read and write since you started seeing one another. 

“Aunt Pol… is heart spelt with two t’s or one?”

“One, Finn.” 

“And does angel have a j in it?”

“No, Finn.”

Everyone else thought it was adorable and proof that he truly does love you. They’ve never seen him work so hard on anything in his life. 

Your own card is much simpler, because you wanted to make sure he could read it without too much difficulty. You also may or may not have got a bit carried away with drawing hearts and other sketches to fill it instead of trying to use long and complicated words about how much you loved him. 

However, neither one of you seem to care. You’re too happy with the cards you receive to care about your own possible mistakes. 

You’re also too busy admiring how much of an effort each of you made with your outfits for your date. Sure, it was just drinks and dancing with some of the other teenagers in Small Heath (basically Isiah and his girl) but you’d both gone full out for the occasion. 

“Is that suit new?”

“Maybe… John helped me pick it out. Why? Does it look stupid?”

“No, Finn Shelby. You look incredibly handsome,” you beam, toying with his lapels before linking his hand with yours. “I’ll be the luckiest girl there tonight.”

“And I’ll be the luckiest man.”

Oh yeah, you two are reals saps, just as most young lovers are. You’re all nervous glances, laughs and touches as you two dance the night away. 

It would also be the night Finn kisses you for the first night, summoning the courage to do it as he drops you off back at your house, just a little after curfew. 

It’s worth the risk and as you kiss him back he swears he’s flying the rest of the way home. 

Micheal: 

Micheal has had his plans in place for weeks, making sure every little detail would be perfect for the two of you. He’s honestly looking forward to it, enough to welcome his mother’s advice as she throws suggestions and tips at him the week before. 

“Women like to feel special, Micheal. What about getting her a necklace? Or some chocolates? Fancy ones from France or something.” 

“Mum, thanks, but I’ve got it covered. Promise.”

“Are you sure?”

Micheal laughs and tries not to be offended at her obvious doubt. Then again, he’s not always had a track record of being the most romantic or thoughtful with women. Still, he really cares about you and he’s determined not to mess this up. 

It’s why he’s chosen the perfect place for you two to spend the evening together: your place. 

He’s determined to spend the time just the two of you, and what better way to impress you than cooking dinner for you? 

With the bottle of champagne he brought and your favourite records playing in the background, you’re quickly at ease, grinning as you watch him effortlessly chop, dice and season the dish he’s chosen. 

How is peeling a potato so sexy when he does it? 

It’s honestly impressive, but also because he’s putting so much effort into it which is a nice surprise. As is the way he dances around the kitchen with you whenever there’s a pause in the recipe or a particularly good song comes on. 

You’re surprised at his soft singing voice as he holds you, humming along. It’s rare he allows himself to be seen in such a way, relaxed with no one to judge him for being soft or a little off key.   In front of the other Shelbys he’s normally desperate to impress them, trying to be tough and nonchalant.

However, you know deep down he’s still the country boy you fell in love with when he first arrived in the city.  

By the time you’ve finished dinner, the candles have almost burned out and you know where the evening is headed as you both start to scurry off to your bedroom. 

Ada:

Ada is probably the most relaxed of all the Shelby bunch when it comes to special occasions. This is Ada we’re talking about. She’s also probably the most sane of the bunch, so she knows how to act like a normal person. 

She doesn’t need anything big or fancy as a gift or some elaborate plan to make her fall head over heels. 

A day in the park, with Karl holding both your hands as you walk to the duck pond, is enough to make her look at you with utter adoration in her eyes. She loves how well you both get on, becoming a little family of you own. 

It’s why it’s no surprise you all have dinner together, with Karl helping to serve you as your two favourite people spoil you rotten. You normally eat together most days, even if Karl doesn’t normally wear a suit or call you ‘madame’ every time he passes you something like a mini waiter. 

Ada smirks at the sight, informing you it’s all Karl’s idea - as is the card he thrusts upon you.

“I made the card myself!”

“You did? Wow, Karl. Look how amazing it is. I love the glitter on the heart.” 

“I knew you would. Mum didn’t think so but I won.”

The look Ada gives you makes you want to laugh until you cry as you clearly sense the frustration she must have suffered in the pursuit of Karl’s artistry. It also explains why you’ve been finding glitter everywhere all week. 

“Well, I love it. Thank you - both.”

You press kisses to both of their cheeks, grinning as Ada purred something about giving you her card later once Karl’s in bed. You’re eager to return the favour, impatient to give her your own card and gift. 

It’s a framed photo of you all, taken one day when you’d all been at the local fair. 

The sight of it is enough to make Ada watery eyed as she gives you yours, watching as you unwrap it and gasp in delight. 

The book is the next in a series you’d recently started and fallen in love with. However, you were pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be released yet. 

“What can I say? Perks of having a librarian girlfriend with exclusive access to advanced copies we’re supposed to be holding on to until next month. I borrowed one and I’m sure they won’t notice.” 

“Ada Shelby. You stole a book for me?”

“Borrowed. Not stole.” 

You don’t care, too overwhelmed to do anything other than kiss her passionately. 

[aseioh]

Of Stars and Moonlit walks pt.2/?

Notes: Some housekeeping first. Donna for the purpose of this story will be based partly on her unused content from the game as well as some canon info. This means that she has a darker background than the one that was used in the game proper as I would really like to incorporate those into this story.

Another thing is that as you’ve probably read from the previous chapter. The characters here are slightly out of character, I’m afraid this is entirely my problem as I’m not used to writing stories

----

Chapter 2: Dinner with a show

Dinner with the Dimitrescus’ was never a quiet affair, in fact it is the very definition of a happy family dinner. The three daughters vying for their Mother’s attention, retelling their afternoon adventures. Alcina sitting at the head of the table patiently listening to everything her daughters tell her, her smile so much different from the usual smirk or predatory grin she sports during the meetings with Mother Miranda and the other Lords.

It made her look softer; Motherhood seems to suite her like her gloves.

At the back of Donna mind, she remembers her childhood before things went bad. Sunday roast dinners made by Mother, Father sneaking from behind to leave a kiss on her Mother’s cheek. Yes, everything seems so simple back then.

The dining room itself is small and cozy, Donna guesses that this room is where the family usually dines compared to the cavernous dining hall that exits into their courtyard.

Across the table Bela has been silently studying their mysterious guest. Of course she has been joining her sisters retell their afternoon escapades in the garden and how they had manage to scare the new maids. But throughout dinner she has been subtly glancing at Donna.

The women certainly is interesting, so quiet compared to her doll that you would have imagined that the chatty doll is the Lord and the woman is the puppet. But she had listened to her Mother’s lesson unlike her two sisters. She knows who Donna Beneviento is, what the woman is capable of.

What an interesting study, I wonder what is behind that veil.

‘She must be pretty.’ She thought as she swirls the wine in her glass.

“So Angie, wanna play hide and seek? Bet you can’t find us! We’re very good at that game” Daniela challenges Angie. The moment that the youngest sister saw the moving doll she has become utterly fascinated by it.

It was obvious that Angie was the greatest doll Donna possesses, as she has mostly used the doll as an extension of her psyche. That said, the doll seems to be capable of autonomous actions based on the way she flitters around the room inspecting various stuff that catches her attention.

“Ha you’re talking to the greatest hide and seeker! Hehehe, alright. Let’s play” Angie exclaimed hopping up and down Donna’s side.

“she really is one of a kind huh?” Cassandra muses.

“Yes, my Father built and gifted her to me on my birthday, we’ve been inseparable since. When I’ve received my gift from Mother Miranda I’ve decide to share some of my psyche with her. In a way she is an extension of myself, albeit a rather excitable one at that.” Donna explains as she looks on fondly at Angie.

As Alcina stands up from her chair and offers her hand to Donna “Yes well enough of that melancholy dear, shall we retire or will you join me for a short night cap.”

“And girls if you are going to play with Angie make sure that you don’t cause too much noise. God knows we need some rest after today.”

“Yes Mother!” the three answers in unison

“You guys hide, and I’ll seek” Daniela announces as she grins predatorily. The ‘preys’ have already scattered before she even finished her sentence. After counting to ten she proudly bellows “READY or NOT, HERE I COMEEE!!” with that she disintegrates into hundreds of flies intent on ‘hunting’ her preys.

----

Adjourning to another room the two Lords sit in front of a roaring fire. Alcina casually cupping one of her finest vintages, while Donna content on sipping her tea.

“Donna when I asked you to join me for a night cap, I didn’t expect you to drink tea” Alcina chuckles at Donna’s preferred drink.

Donna having removed her veil as she was alone with Alcina responds by standing up and taking the crystal decanter by the table. She pours a fingers worth of aged whiskey into her cup. Smirking she raises her tea laced whiskey to Alcina and gulps down a mouthful.

Seeing this Alcina roars into laughter. “You really can surprise anyone” Wiping a stray tears from her eyes “and that is why anyone who underestimates you meets their end.”

“At that I can only blame them” Donna answers. The two fell into a companionable silence, the silence only broken by the occasional cracking of the fire.

“Tell me Donna, how is your project with Heisenberg. I do hope the man is not running you haggard. I know that it concerns Mother Miranda’s plan but you shouldn’t run yourself to hard. Let Heisenberg sweat a bit”

“Thank you for your concern Alcina, but you shouldn’t worry. Believe it or not Karl and I are very efficient with our work, and yes, I let him do all the heavy lifting. I’m just there when he needs a second opinion on the new ‘soldat’ hardware.” Donna levels Alcina with a grateful smile, who knew that the tallest and blood thirsty Lord of the village have a soft spot for her ‘siblings’.

“Yes, yes I’m just worried that Mother Miranda has been running you ragged. Lord knows she’s been going full tilt with her so called ‘plan’.

“Actually Alcina, may I ask you for a favor?”

“Depends, does it involve the depletion of our whiskey stores?” At that Alcina couldn’t help but give a short chuckle.

“Very funny. But no. I would never deprive Karl of his favorite drink.” Donna shakes her head, pin it to the back of her head ‘Alcina is a funny half-drunk.’

“No, I was wondering if you would allow me to tour your greenhouse. I would love to see your plants and roses.”

“Is that all? Of course, I’ll ask Bela to take you tomorrow. She’s usually the one to tend to my roses, she’s picked up the hobby after reading some books and my roses have never looked livelier.”

“Thank you.”

-----

A knock on the door alerts Donna that her companion for the day has arrived. From what Angie has relayed to her last night, the girls had fun with their game with Angie being declared the ultimate victor followed closely by Cassandra. Apparently being a small doll makes it near impossible to find her inside the huge castle.

“Good morning Donna, shall we go to the greenhouse?” Bela extends her arms towards the hallway as they make their way to the greenhouse.

“You look pretty today Bela! I love your dress, it suits you so much it brings out your eyes!” Angie says as she turns her head to face Bela. Donna who has been carrying Angie had to think hard on not dropping the doll or stop walking.

Bela for her part slightly blushes at the compliment. “You really think so Angie?” Angie enthusiastically nods her head, fearing that it might fall off Donna decides to intervene.

“Angie’s right Bela, you look really beautiful today.” At that Bela’s blush blossoms like one of her Mother’s roses. “Thank you, Angie, Donna”

“I must say though, your hands are beautiful Donna, they look so soft-“ Bela stops herself before she could say more and embarrass herself further. ‘Really Bela, her hands are pretty, Mother Miranda above what are you a child!?’ she chides herself.

Not knowing how to respond to such a compliment herself, Donna instead slows down her walk and whispers, “Thank you, Bela” Although Bela doesn’t seem to hear as she was busy chiding herself.

Thankfully the two arrive at the Castle’s greenhouse without any hitch.

Entering the great building Donna is surprised by the sheer number of plants that the building houses. Exotic plants that can only survive in tropical climates seem to thrive even in their Romanian climate. At the center of place is Alcina’s roses, the bushes so lush its as if each rose were painted there. Truly they were the main attraction of the greenhouse.

“They’re beautiful, and is it true that you yourself tended to these flowers?” Donna enquired as she caresses the petals of a rose amazed at the softness of it.

“Well, yes. I read in the library on the optimal way to care for the roses. I though that I could try my hands on caring for them. To ward off boredom of course, Mother said that we should look for hobbies and stop terrorizing the hired help” Bela explains as she tries not to blush on how Donna touches the plant.

“I don’t think it’s just that Bela. You have a big heart. You’ve managed to grow something from this barren and frozen place. You gave it your time and love and in return, they bloom for you.” Donna says quietly voice soft it’s as if the wind itself is talking.

Bela blushes furiously and is left speechless. ‘this is the third time she’s been made to blush! What the hell Bela get a hold of yourself’.

Donna sensing that she has said too much tries to back paddle. “I’m sorry it’s just how I see here. I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.”

“No thank you Donna, really that’s the sweetest thing anyone has said to me.”

Thankfully the awkwardness of the place changes when Cassandra barrels through the greenhouse. “Lady Beneviento, may Angie play with us again? We want a rematch with her. This time we’ll definitely win” She says with fire in her voice.

And even though her sisters have said that she can sometimes gloss over and ‘cannot read the room’, Cassandra knew for certain that something has happened. It might be the blush her elder sister is sporting or the subtle twitch of Donna���s hands.

But there are more pressing matters at hand, a Champion needs to be dethroned. Therefore she filed the weird atmosphere around Donna and Bela for another time.

At the mention of the challenge Angie becomes animated and hops off to run into Cassandra. The three leaves Donna alone to ponder the situation inside the greenhouse.

Perhaps her stay at Castle Dimitrescu would be full of surprises after all.

----

Another note: I’ve also been made aware that Donna may suffer from Agoraphobia. I’m sorry that I haven’t taken that into consideration when writing this story, in this case Donna just suffers from a slight fear of unknown people and will not talk at all if she’s in front of new people (which won’t technically happen in this fic)

[theodora3022]

Crown Jewel

(noun): a particularly valuable or prized possession or asset.

Pairing: Francis Scott Fitzgerald X fem! former assassin reader

Summary: Having betrayed the Order of the Clock Tower and fled to Japan, you hid your ability and worked at the ADA as a secretary for protection. Life was not as good, but you knew what Lady Christie would do if she discovered a traitor’s whereabouts. You knew someone would dig up your old dirt sooner or later, but why does it have to be this arrogant, awful man? 

Notes: This is really self-indulgent (to satiate my cravings and daddy issues), so read it at your own risk. I am not comfortable with cheating, so Francis is single in this one and never went bankrupt.(But he is still a family man, his wife Zelda passed away before the events in the show) He is an arrogant bastard in canon so you might find his behaviour offensive but that is just how he is. Excuse my pathetic Canadian English, as I cannot write in British English at all. This fic took me too many hours to write, thankfully it is finally done...

Special thanks to my friends for beta reading this long thing, your encouragement and praises are what kept my fragile sanity intact in the process!

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mild bimbofication, mild objectification, coercion, implied dub-con(We all know what happens in marriages right?), Yandere themes

She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines.

She was beautiful for the way she thought.

She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved.

She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad.

No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks.

She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.

-F.Scott Fitzgerald

The entire Fitzgerald Estate is finely, thoughtfully decorated, lavish even. Like photographs right out of a luxurious architecture magazine, with marble floors, persian carpets and high raised ceilings. A manor that sits on the top of a little hill, surrounded by trees and flowerbeds. But no matter how beautiful it may be, no one can never feel quite at home in prison. You thought as you lean back on the living room sofa near the patio, slowly dozing off in the afternoon sunlight with a half-read novel on your lap. Maybe you would go for a swim later, you could use a soak before he returns.

It’s easy to forget how much blood is on your hands in peaceful times like these. Ever since he made you dispose of your count book, you can barely remember how many people you had slaughtered.

Your hands were once covered with callouses from hours of training, but now they are as smooth as the velvet curtains. The glow from the big diamond ring on your ring finger irritates you so very often, but he had warned you not to take it off.

“Lady Fitzgerald? Mrs. Smith is here for your fitting session.” It is one of the maids. Ah, is the tailor here already? You put up a smile for the guest and got up, silently cursing your “husband” in the process. Good thing he is at work most of the time, so you can at least enjoy this glamorous life every once in a while without wanting to bury yourself in a bottomless pit.

Another week, another one of those frivolous social events. But you have no choice but to accompany him to every single one of them. While acting as the leader of the Guild, Francis is also the head of the Fitzgerald cooperation, therefore this high society life has always been the norm for him. You, on the other hand, prefer lurking in the shades. All these shimmering lights, noisy parties, fancy dresses and high heels leave you either dazzled or vulnerable. You feel more like his nice accessory, a Christmas bauble than a wife. However, you know your obligations. Be his arm candy, smile, be obedient and not to speak unless spoken to. The alternative of obeying these absurdities is simply unthinkable. Merely the thought can make you feel chills on this warm summer afternoon.

It’s either this or absolute hell. No, that is not an exaggeration.

As an experienced assassin, you had prepared for death since you first signed up for the position. However, no one can bear the Order’s punishments. You know that too well, having witnessed it first-hand countless times.

At least you can live a carefree life with this option. With infuriating restrictions or not, you are still alive and maintain a certain degree of freedom. You should take this compared to an excruciating death any day. Plus you also get to live in extravagance, you cannot hate that for one bit. This rich man has spoiled you to no end, willing to fulfill even your most absurd requests as long as you are his darling wife. Let it be cars, clothes or jewelries, whatever you wish for, Francis would always make sure you got the finest of them.  Not that is ever possible, but you could...get used to this.

However, you utterly despise this title, Lady Fitzgerald? No matter how much he pampers you or showers you with gifts, it would never make up for the fact that you only signed that marriage license under certain conditions. There are those sleepless nights, while you lay under silk quilts in his embrace in some exquisite mansion, you wish you were back in your humble Yokohama flat alone.

---a few months ago

Almost spilling your morning beverage due to running into one of your coworkers at the door, is surely a bad omen, but at the time you did not give it much thought. “Sorry, (y/n)-san. But there is an emergency.” Kirako Haruno?

Work has only just begun, and to your knowledge, there are no major events scheduled for today. Why is she in such a hurry?

Haruno is as terrified as if she just saw a bear in the middle of the street. Strange, since she is usually calm and collected. 

“What has happened? Are you okay?”

“There are foreigners here, they are demanding an audience with the president. (y/n)-san, you can handle them, right? Please, keep them occupied while I notify the president.” Looks like this is your problem now since you speak better English compared to any other in the ADA.

She said it quickly without any pause. Also walked away before you had a chance to refuse, so Haruno missed how the colours suddenly drained from your visage and your horrid expression. 

Oh, dear. Please do not let the foreigners be them… Although not many members of the Order recognizes you as you always don masks even at meetings, you still feel the world may have ended for you, as you wobble out of the office to the reception area with cold sweat. If Haruno had not hurried off, you would have found some excuse to get away from this troublesome situation. You should have called in sick today...

Are they speaking with American accents? Good gracious, you almost had a heart attack over this. You dealt with the Guild before, back when you were still in the Order when you still viewed Lady Christie as your older sister. She used to take you to negotiations meetings. You know how they are, so it should be a cakewalk to keep them occupied for at least a while. But...what if they identify you and report your whereabouts to the Order?! Would they be willing to do Christie this “favour”? The last time you checked, the two organizations were not on exactly friendly terms. So you should be fine as long as you act accordingly. Besides, the agency would not allow foreigners to harm one of their office clerks, precisely why you applied for a job ADA a year-and-a-half ago.

Get your act together, (y/n). Being this panicked is beneath you, everything will be alright as long as you conceal your fears. 

Finishing on your diplomatic front preparation, you greet them with a professional attitude. “Welcome to the Armed Detective Agency, ladies and gentlemen of the Guild.” You try to talk in the calmest tone possible, without stutters. “Now if you would follow me, I shall prepare you some tea. The President will be ready for you shortly.” Now that you have a chance to observe them up close, you had to dig your nails into your palms, pressuring yourself to maintain composure. Why is the leader of the Guild here?! You had seen him before, there is no way you could mistake that arrogant blonde for anyone else. Even though you are pretty confident he would scarcely recognize you without a mask, that tiny possibility feels like a sharp blade pressing against your throat, ready to strike anytime. 

Fitzgerald was not expecting someone who speaks flawless English to receive them. Not someone this cute, too. And here he thought this is just going to be like any other boring business discussion. But he cannot shake off this feeling of how he had seen your enchanting smile somewhere before. It was not easy to leave even a vague impression on the great Francis Scotts Fitzgerald, you must have been someone important. A business partner? A Government Official? Or perhaps a Socialite? You are someone with a high position, that he can be sure. But why would you Oh how he hates having blurry memories of something. As soon as he returns to the Guild base, Francis needs to look into their Database immediately. 

“Earl Grey, imported from England. Would you like some refreshments as well?” Taking out a can of cream biscuits from your desk drawer, you are glad to see the redhead young girl nodding excitedly. You return a genuine smile to her before bending down to fetch the plate. You were not sure if you were just being oversensitive, but you felt a burning gaze on your back when you turned. Your assassin instincts were almost always accurate, could it be that Fitzgerald had remembered something?

“Is there something wrong, Miss? You are sweating so much.” You do appreciate the ginger girl’s kind words, but could she not say it out loud for her boss to hear? You were planning on keeping your panics to yourself. Moving unnoticeable further away from the Guild leader, you gulped nervously. 

“My apologies. I am not feeling well this morning. Now, here’s your biscuits.”

“Aren’t they called cookies? They are truly delicious, thank you so much, Miss. I’m Lucy by the way.”

“In England, we call them biscuits. Would you like some more, Lucy? I have more if you’ll like it.” Her cheerful nature reminds you of a little sister, how could you say no to her pleading eyes. Unfortunately, this also made you forget how you are trying to remain incognito, and you let your hidden past out unintentionally. 

England? That certainly rings a bell for the bright mind of Francis Fitzgerald. And no, he was not eavesdropping. You are talking to his employee, after all. Francis even forgot to scold Lucy about being a demanding guest on cookies because he was so deep in thought, searching for any clue of who you might be. He was about to recall something when you received the president’s notice about the meeting. “The President is ready now, this way please.”

After they entered the office, you realized how you had accidentally exposed yourself while explaining about biscuits. No, now all you can do is pray Fitzgerald was not listening in to that whimsical tea-time conversation. Your stomach suddenly feels queasy, a sign that maybe you should request to go home early. You surely do not want to face those calculating blue eyes again. Heck, you never trembled this badly, not even before the toughest missions. 

He was planning on asking you some questions after that unsuccessful negotiation, but it would seem like you had taken a sick leave early. 

You seem to be rather nervous around him. Suspicious. 

Yet Francis cannot stop thinking about how you cared for Lucy. That consideration, if his little daughter is still around, she is bound to love you… It could just be professional kindness, but Francis had seen enough people to tell what is a facade or not. Zelda was like this too, in fact, it’s this admirable quality that had drawn him in the first place.

The great Fitzgerald had seen so many beautiful women, but your unparalleled warmth and grace outshine all appearances. 

Wait, Francis had finally cleared the fog now. Aren’t you that girl with Agatha Christie, the head knight of the Order of the Clock Tower? No wonder you speak of England. He was so shocked when Christie introduced you as one of her finest knights. You were so friendly and lighthearted, how can you be that notorious master Assassin? It does not matter whether you had a mask on or not, he remembers those lovely (colour) eyes too well. He had found you to be alluring back then, but at that time he was too busy to concern himself with amorous feelings. Going through the guild files, he found that statement from Christie about how you had defected from the Order and a bounty for your whereabouts.

So, you are hiding from your former Organization? That is unfortunate. Francis had heard a word or two about how the Order is feared for its gruesome torture methods, how they still implement the old ways without mercy. You would rather work as a low-wage secretary then continue being one of their most esteemed Knights, something must have gone terribly wrong. 

This is the perfect wager to let you, a kind, independent strong woman, bend to his will. 

Now that he had thought about it, coming back home to a loving wife once again sounds more than wonderful. Having someone by his side forever, to love, to spoil, to have a family with had always been what he wanted. But fate has been cruel to Francis on this matter and had taken them away way too soon. 

This time, he would make sure to do it right. Francis is determined not to let the tragedy repeat itself.

You were surprised by that clearly expensive gift box on your desk the next day you arrived at work. There is a letter attached to it? Your heart dropped when you saw the Guild's emblem embedded on the wax seal. What could they possibly want from you apart from...that?

“Dear Ms(y/n), Sir Francis S FitzGerald would like you to join him for dinner at (location). Please put on the dress in the box attached and be at (location) at seven p.m sharp.” 

What a condescending letter. Not even a polite invitation, just saying he wants you there? You knew how this Fitzgerald is, that arrogant and greedy type, who would value money above conscience. Well, you still got some savings left, if that could shut him up you would not mind emptying your pockets.

You can never let her find you. Suicide before she did is a possible option, but you decided to save that as the last resort.

That is why you decided to put on that dress and go to meet him at this high-end western restaurant. 

The hem of the dress is too short for your likings, but its sublime texture made you presume it costs a fortune. You cannot even recall when was the last time you had don such fine material. Life as a Knight major feels nothing more than a fever dream when Agatha was still your friend, your dear Commander.

What is Fitzgerlad’s intention of giving you such a scandalous dress? Is this some peculiar way to humiliate you? This is why you are better off acting as the blade, never as the tactician. Mind games were never your forte. 

You are wearing that dress as Francis asked, good. He knew you would look gorgeous in it. It’s such a shame you always covered yourself up. Why wear those cheap, conservative trash when you can wear this?

Someone like you needs to be cherished, to be coddled. You do not belong in the shades or some little office.

“Mr. Fitzgerald. How may I help you today?” God, you feel almost naked in this piece of cloth, but you know you had to grin and bear it as he has the upper hand for now. “If this is about that business permit, I am not the one to make decisions.”

“Why, you are not going to thank me for the dress? You look absolutely breathtaking if you are wondering.” Crap, he is wearing a suit of a matching colour. Has he done this on purpose?

You blush a bit at Francis’s generous compliment, but you did not foreget why you are here.

“Please, do sit. And call me Francis, Miss.” Pulling the chair out for you, Francis smiled politely before signalling the waiters to bring out the appetizers. He is acting way too nice if all he wants is blackmailing you. You were expecting a simple, cold business trade, not...whatever this can be called.

“So, how is Lady Christie doing?” You put down the wine glass, sensing his malicious intent and narrowing your eyes. Of course, he knows, you should have expected this much from the leader of the Guild and an accomplished businessman. Lady Christie must have sent out wanted advertisements, too. 

“If you know this much then you must know I am not a part of the Order anymore.” Just name the price already, then you can both go back to your respective businesses and forget your paths ever crossed.

Clever one, although Francis would expect anything less from someone like you. Not just anyone could be the Knight major of that Order after all. You sighed with frustration, clearly wanting to get this over with. “How much do you need? I still have a decent sum in my bank account.” It would probably be a large price, coming from this greedy man, but you are willing to pay for it as long as he stays silent.

You, trying to bribe him? How adorable. You must have been incredibly oblivious to not notice his intentions. Yes, normally a good check would silence Francis, but can’t you see he is not after your money here?

Instead of taking the pen, Francis shoved his smartphone in front of your face. 

You turn paler when you figure out the contents. It was an email draft, a draft intended for your former Commander. It tells how the Guild is doing her a big favour by returning her astray Knight major to her proper place. Did he type out an email already? You can already feel those cold dungeon bars on your skin. 

“Is money not enough? What exactly do you need?” Calm down, (y/n). If Francis did not send that email, it means negotiation is still possible. Just give him what he needs and be done with it. 

To your shock, the blonde smiled smugly and said: “I want you to join the Guild.”

Join the Guild? “As an assassin?” Of course, he is after your ability. It was what made you a high ranking knight, no wonder he would want that for his organization. 

“Not exactly. You see, I’m looking for a...personal bodyguard.” Hm, Francis is fond of the word “personal” in this context, it makes him feel like you are one of his possessions already.

“If you have any knowledge about my ability at all, you should know I am no good for frontal combat. With your status, fitting individuals would come running.” Is he toying with you? How despicable. Only a dastard would toy with someone’s mind, especially someone desperate.

Carefully taking your hand into his, feeling your soft skin and those light calluses on your fingers, Francis knows he has to do this the blunt way. You are such a fool when it comes to romantic relationships. 

“Be my wife, you don’t need to worry about being discovered ever again. Christie cannot touch you as long as you are by my side. You can have whatever you want, just say the word. ”

This has to be a hallucination. Be his...wife? “Mr. Fitzgerald, have you got hit on the head earlier?” Feeling his forehead with the back of your hand: “You do not seem to have a fever. Are you feeling unwell?” Is he out of his mind? You, his wife? You are a dangerous assassin with a high headcount, not exactly wife material. No one sane wishes to be involved with you romantically, or so you thought.

He was not expecting such an eccentric reaction. Most women would be over the moon with the mere thought of becoming his mistress, not to mention an actual wife. Francis knows you are different, but this is out of his wildest predictions. 

You are even harder to predict than the stock market of New York.

“This is a serious offer, love. Do you take my words as some jester’s joke?” He is not joking? Oh dear, you don’t want to marry this man. He did not even properly court you? And it is not like he is giving you a real choice either.

“What, are you going to refuse? That is fine, surely this email could bring a smile to Christie's face.” “No, please don’t send that email!”The way your pupils shrink suddenly gives him heartaches, but this is the necessary measure to make sure you are compliant. Francis had promised to spoil you, but sadly this is not a matter he can compromise with. He could make it up with gifts and attention later right? This life in exile is not fitting for a lady like you, so why don’t you let him take care of you? Don’t you understand what could happen to you had he not intervened?

That trembling little nod is all Francis needs for confirmation. As he brings your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss, he swore silently to himself how he would never repeat his previous mistakes.

“Now, let us go ring shopping. Pick the biggest diamond one if you like, but make sure to select it out with a matching one.”

----Back to present

After the fitting appointment, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with some confectionary practices. You remember well how Francis’s face would lit up like a Christmas tree if he comes home to the smell of your bakings. It disgusts you how much he loves your docile mask, how you are his perfect housewife, his Mrs. Fitzgerald. This bastard do take pleasure in others pain.

Still, you must keep your “husband” happy. Humming your favourite melody in a pink apron, you try to imagine you are just doing this for only your own amusement, in your own house to make this more bearable. 

Baking is one of the many hobbies you picked up after becoming Lady Fitzgerald. You could not work, neither as an assassin nor a secretary, as he is concerned about your “safety”: “Why should my lovely wife trouble herself with those headaches? You should spend your day doing whatever interests you, like painting or knitting! Tell me anytime if you need tutors.” Then Francis gave your head a few pats as if you are some cute puppy? You can never count how many screws he got loose.

What interests you? Well, stabbing Francis in his sleep could hardly count as a suitable hobby. Guess you’ll have to think of other ways to utilize those kitchen knives.  Since he forbids you to train with weapons, you are stuck with those pathetic feminine leisure activities. 

Placing the tray onto the preheated oven rack, you were cleaning up the mess from the process when two strong arms abruptly wrapped around your waist from behind. You knew exactly who it is since you had sensed his presence when he first set a foot into this ridiculously large kitchen. You also had to take deep breaths, reminding yourself why you shouldn’t just aim your fists at Francis’s nose then and there. These past few months with him had raised your resilience to an incredible level, you could tolerate his demanding physical affections without the urge to jump off a cliff now. 

Curling your lips upwards, you push yourself to leave a light peck on the tall blonde man’s left cheek. That is mandatory, you had learned that on the first day here. “You’re home early.” The way you say those words is so sweet, even sweeter than those sugary treats in the oven. Even though you have to be careful, not letting the venom underneath slip out.

This is what Francis S. Fitzgerald longs to come home to, the love of his life after a day of gruelling meetings and other work. Once a renowned assassin, a second-in-command Knight in a Prestigious Royal Order, but now you are just his little housewife. He could never find a shinier trophy to demonstrate his power and influence. The haughty Blonde knows you have not entirely given up on the idea of escaping, still holding a grudge towards him, time will tell whether you accept your place or not. But that does not matter now, right now the Guild leader just wants to watch some brainless tv show on the sofa, with you on his lap to unwind, some Bordeaux would be nice too. He could handle all those business meetings if that means holding you to sleep every night. The sight of your smile makes it all worth it. 

You belong to him now, his most prized possession, the crown jewel of Francis Fitzgerald’s collection.

And you have no say in the matter as long as you wish to stay in the land of the living.

It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving,

But like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living.

-F.Scott Fitzgerald

(Hey! Thank you for reading! Commetns and reblogs would be greately appreciated!)

[d3sertdream3r]

Final Thoughts on Mons(TROS)ity

I’m not even just upset that Ben died. That’s the rotten cherry on top of how every single character in the entire Skywalker Saga was fucked up in this film.

As much as I love Rey, the fight against Palpatine was most certainly Ben’s. This man has been mentally torturing him and manipulating him since he was in the fucking womb. He poisoned his relationships with his family. He convinced him that he had to kill his own father in order to ever be or mean anything. Yet he gets yeeted off a cliff in the final fucking battle. He doesn’t get revenge for all that’s been done to him and the past two generations of his family before him. Not to mention he only holds the legacy saber for all of 3 minutes at most. He doesn’t even set foot on the Millennium Falcon or talk to Uncle Lando and Uncle Chewie. He doesn’t get to hear the real voice of his hero/grandfather. He’s a mentally ill abuse victim that ended up killing himself. That leaves a really shitty taste in my mouth despite the fact that he did it for the girl he loves.

Am I really supposed to believe that Rey being sold into slavery to an extremely abusive guy on a desert wasteland is a good thing??? And what about the message that she made herself who she is and the Force chose her to be powerful because she is strong and compassionate despite how terribly she’s been treated her whole life? That she didn’t get her power from a legacy bloodline, but from herself?? Nope. She’s powerful because she is a Palpatine. And despite surviving in the desert all her life so that she could someday have a family, she ends up all alone in a different desert. Exactly where she began, but now she has trauma and the loss of her soulmate to deal with. Fuck everything.

Why didn’t Leia train Ben herself if Luke had trained her? She gave her son away when he was a kid because she just didn’t have time to deal with her only child while he was struggling with depression and anxiety? His powers reacting to his inner turmoil was just too inconvenient to her career?? Yeah, sure, totally sounds like Leia Skywalker Organa Solo to me.

Finn being a former stormtrooper that’s defected to the resistance is more of an after thought than a real plot line?? This is something we’ve never seen before. We’ve seen desert kids become powerful Jedi. We’ve seen powerful Jedi fall to the dark side and “redeem themselves” through death. We’ve seen Palpatine be defeated and killed before. Finn’s story was fresh and interesting and in the end all he does is make eyes at Rey and provide occasional comic relief.

What the hell is the point of Poe’s story? He doesn’t really have one. He was supposed to die in the first film and it shows because he hasn’t served much purpose at all since the first 10 minutes of TFA besides being attractive and acting like an ass most of the time. So inspiring.

Rose barely exists in this movie. She’s more of a cameo than anything. Her beautifully heartbreaking story about her sister, her kindness in the face of evil and destruction, her strong will and determination to do the right thing, her passion for justice, and her inspiration to a whole new generation of rebels and Jedi are all thrown out the window.

Luke, Han, and Leia all died so that Ben could live and finally feel light and happiness in his life. Well that didn’t work. He died. And why would Rey take the name Skywalker instead of Solo? She was in love with Ben Solo, her personal hero is Han Solo, and her real Jedi master was Leia Organa Solo. The Millennium Falcon is her ship and her best friend is Chewie. But she goes with fucking Skywalker?? Ok.

All the Jedi rushed to the aid of Rey in her moment of need but not a single one of them could be bothered to ever help Ben throughout his entire life despite being the grandson of the Chosen One. No one ever raised so much as a finger when he needed help, not even his grandfather that he loved and admired deeply to the point of following him down the path of his mistakes.

Anakin couldn’t talk to him and convince him to stay good or return to the light, but he gives his power to Rey and tells her to Rise?? A girl he doesn’t know at all??? Obi Wan “BEN” Kenobi couldn’t help and teach the child named after him?? A name that is synonymous with HOPE in SW. What a joke.

The Chosen One means nothing. The Skywalker bloodline means absolutely fucking nothing even though this entire universe was built around them. They aren’t the Balancers of the Force. They aren’t super powerful Force demigods despite having the Force literally woven into their DNA because of how Anakin was born, not just in midi-chlorian form. They’re all dead. The “Rise of Skywalker” indeed. Cruel irony at its finest.

In conclusion, this is how I feel about the movie. Take it away George:

JJ singlehandedly ruined an entire lifetime of lore and storytelling for who the fuck knows or cares why. Rian is the one who truly respected SW and handled the lore beautifully while also introducing new concepts to the franchise.

I will always love Reylo, Star Wars, and the Skywalkers. I hope they get Ben back in canon books or something, but I’ll always be bitter about the awful way every single fucking character in the Skywalker Saga has been so completely disrespected.

This fandom is wonderful and very inspiring and I can’t wait to see what gorgeous art and fanfics y’all come up with. I’m truly so grateful to be part of something so much bigger than myself; something JJ Abrams will never understand.

[catgirlsreviewporn]

WEEKLY PORB REVIEW

This art piece shows intimacy on a level the porn community doesn’t always stray to. The sense of intimacy between the characters is excellently done, and the way the artist decided to work Marceline’s powers into the piece and have her float just above Bubblegum is lovely. It makes it so you can see Marceline’s body as well, rather than hiding her behind her partner.

The art style for this is very interesting and not something you are always going to see. Sometimes when people are creating porn all they want to focus on is the details, the genitalia not the situation. But with a such simplistic style as this is ig brings your attention towards what’s happening not their expressions not the sex itself but what’s happening. It’s eye opening, revolutionizes porn as a whole. Of course the Bawdy Bulletin Cummittee values detail but I understand why it isn’t always used. Perhaps more detailed expression, and hair could enhance the image further but it isn’t needed to make it good.

Another aspect this piece has done just brilliantly is the depiction of body fat. The way Marceline’s hand is on Bubblegum’s stomach is very realistic, and there’s nothing in the piece that indicates either individual thinking body fat is a negative thing, in fact it’s embraced as it should be. And you know how much the BBC adores tummy in porn! A win for us truly. Compared to the previous porn we have reviewed we have finally found a piece that depicts tummy in a lovely beautiful way.

Just like in our last porn review, Marceline's hair is drawn very well. It's flowy, voluminous, and has a nice highlight at the top. Unlike last time, I also like Bubblegum's hair. Last time it was too flat, almost seemed like a piece of paper draped over her head. In this piece, it actually looks like a piece of gum! The dedication to canonical accuracy in this piece is very nice.

I've seen my fair share of Porb that has no care towards the personalities of the characters. It's like they draw a base pose and randomly choose a character to put in there. While there's nothing inherently wrong with this, it feels wrong once you step back and look at it. Would Fluttershy really dominate Nagito Komaeda like that? No, she wouldn't. The BBC appreciates the inclusion of the internal character along with their external appearance, and this piece demonstrates this very well. Not only in their body language is their character showing, but their actions as well. To be honest, I've never seen a full episode of Adventure Time, only having a general knowledge of these characters from friends and memes. Nonetheless, I can get a real sense of how these characters are just by taking a quick glance at this piece. Their expressions, their body language, their actions. It all reflects them very well.

The tummy squish. Is like. Cocaine. But without all the negative side effects of cocaine. I could look at this all day, to be honest. It's incredible. It's gorgeous. It's beautiful. It's tear-inducing, but in the best way. Squishsquishsquishsqusihhhehehehe

Over all, this piece is a work of art. Both bodies are drawn beautifully, and it is an excellent representation of intimacy at its finest.

Final rating: 8.75/10

[parvulous-writings]

A Ship’s Crew

Victor Farley x Mainland!Reader

Genre:  Adventure

Warnings: Mentions of death, and bones.

Summary: The reader has chosen to join Captain Victor Farley, and the crew of the Omen. An introduction to the main members of The Omen. 

Words: 2.6K

Notes: Wow! Recently reached 200 followers! I am beyond amazed! Thank you all so, so much for showing interest in my work! It means so much to me! :D  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Thank you to the amazing @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​ for allowing me to use their wonderful characters, Stubbs and Destiny! Truly, it would not be a story without that pair.  This is for you, bor. 

Not my gif 

“Well, now you know just a little bit more about the world around you, and what we as a crew stand for.” Victor spoke again. “You of course have a day or so to think on it, but… Would you care to join us?” He extends a hand to you.

Do you take it?

You consider the Captain’s offer for a moment, running your current and available options through your mind, before extending your hand to meet his, shaking it with a firm grip. He gave you a charming and hearty grin, starting to laugh happily. “Oh, splendid, splendid!” He exclaimed, moving his other hand so that they both clasped yours. “We’ll make you feel right at home here, I assure you... We’ll get you your own equipment when we get to Galleon’s Grave- for now, though, let’s get you introduced properly to the crew, shall we?” He grinned, walking around the table, and putting an arm over your shoulder. “Ah, wait, hold on.” He chuckled, slipping away from you again and grabbing his heavy coat from where he had left it over the back of the chair. He slipped his arms through the green and grey sleeves, doing up the middle two buttons. Victor looked to you, gesturing with his head towards the cabin door. “Well, let’s get moving then, whilst there’s still some daylight to be utilised.” He held the heavy door for you, and you step out on to the deck again.  The crew were still rushing this way and that- though they seemed to have calmed down considerably since you last saw them. They were moving much slower now, more of a meander than anything. Victor payed them no or little mind, beckoning for you to follow him up some steps, towards the helm. You take the steps carefully as the keel of the ship rode and broke through a particularly rough wave. Farley cleared his throat to capture your attention, and you turn to look towards him, rather than the expansive open waves that covered the horizon. “This man here,” He placed his gloved hands on the shoulders of the man stood at the helm- his bright red and yellow coat a stark contrast to the dull and dark colours of the ship’s deck. “Is Stubbs. He’s my first mate; and the finest merchant I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting on these seas.” The man he was essentially showering with compliments gave a quiet chuckle.  “Thank you, Captain.” Stubbs replied, a wide smile on his face.  “Of course, my good man. You know I only speak the truth.” Farley gave him a fond smile as he spoke. “We’ve known each other since the day I arrived on these seas,many years ago,  and hopefully we’ll know each other for many more to come.” Stubbs nodded happily in agreement with this. It was quite clear from the way they were acting around each other that they were close. They were so relaxed, and so obviously happy, it brought a smile to your own face. 

“So, sir,” You start, and Victor turned his gaze onto you. “How long have you been here?” You asked him, and his brows furrowed slightly as he started to think. He ran one hand over his mustache and down his beard. “I’m not quite sure... I had just turned nineteen when I decided to stay here on the Sea of Thieves...” He looked to Stubbs, “How many years have we known each other, Stubbs?” He asked, quietly, as if he didn’t want you to hear him. Stubbs shook his head with a gentle laugh, “Too many, and not enough, sir.” Was the first mate’s happy reply. Victor playfully rolled his eyes at this answer, laughing softly at his friend.  “Good enough, thank you,” He started to move away from the helm, beckoning for you to follow behind him.  “Before you go, sir- we’ve about an hour till we arrive at Galleon’s Grave.” Stubbs pointed to the horizon as he spoke- and you could see a rather pointed island off in the distance, and you presumed it to be the outpost that Victor had spoken about prior.  “Ah, brilliant. Keep her steady for me for the time being. I’ll bring her in to port shortly.” He assured Stubbs, which seemed to relief the merchant a little bit. Truth be told, it was risky business letting anyone besides Captain Farley sail The Omen into port, either at an outpost or an island, for the ship did not seem to respond as well to anyone else. 

You get guided down the steps back onto the main deck. Victor leads you towards the central mast, on which leant a young woman- topless bar a few deep blue bandages around her chest, shorts with a belt that seemed to only serve the purpose of holding a cutlass every now and then. Her chest was smothered in tattoos, similar to how Victor’s arms had been. These were very different in hue though; where Victor’s had been a rather faded black ink, this woman’s was a stark and rather vibrant red. They looked almost... Sore.  “This is Destiny.” Victor’s voice roused you from your thoughts, as your eyes locked with the cerulean haired woman, who gave you a little bit of a smirk. “Our resident Reaper representative.”  “Try saying that three times fast, eh, sir?” Destiny chuckled, as she pushed herself away from the mast. Victor rolled his eyes at her joke, folding his arms over his chest and using one hand to prompt her to introduce herself through her own words. Destiny turned her gaze back to you, “As Captain Farley said- I’m the Reaper’s Bones representative here on The Omen. I do what I have to to get a job done, you follow?” She paused, and you gave her a little bit of a vague look. “Okay, okay; I do risky things some people think are stupid.” She simplified her explanation quickly.  “They are stupid.” Victor mumbled as he looked over to the right, and Destiny sighed in exasperation.  “No, they’re not. Name one thing I’ve done recently that was stupid, Captain.” She challenged.  “Would you like the alphabetical list, or the chronological one? I’m fairly certain that Stubbs has both in his possession.” Farley replied, deadpan. Destiny didn’t look impressed, to say the least.  “Off the top of your head, sir.” She clarified.  “Alright.” Victor adjusted his stance slightly, prepping himself for his example. “Last Monday- we were doing our usual route around Crescent Isle and Sailor’s Bounty, and you launched yourself off of the ship, and straight into a gunpowder skelly, merely because you claimed to see what we were searching for.” You didn’t understand much of what Victor was saying, but from the mention of gunpowder you gathered it was none too pleasant.  “I did see it! I saw the loot, I swear!” She exclaimed. “The skeleton just... Got in the way!  It wasn’t there when I fired myself out of the canon!” Victor ran his hand over his face as Destiny kept on talking.  “You may be one of my most trusted friends, my girl, but.. Sometimes I do wish you’d think things like that through, rather than being so... Recklessly impulsive.” He turned on the heel of his boot to walk away, but it seemed that Destiny had one last thing to add.  “I got us the gold, though, didn’t I?” You didn’t need to look at Destiny to know she had a rather smug smirk on her face- you could hear it in her tone. Victor looked over his shoulder, and gave a simple nod.  “Yes, Destiny, you got us the gold.” He replied, simply, before facing ahead again and heading up towards the held once more. Destiny gave you a two fingered salute as she took up her normal space leaning against the central mast- where you had found here earlier.  “Catch you later, rookie.” She grinned at you, before turning her attention back to the crew who were now rushing around about her. 

You jog to catch up with Victor, nearly slipping on the sea-soaked wood beneath your feet. The Captain grabbed your forearm, laughing softly. “Careful there.” He pulled you back up so you could steady yourself again. “Don’t worry, you’ll be getting used to things like that...” He told you as he started up the steps towards Stubbs and the helm. “You know what? I’ll buy you a good pair of boots- you’ll be needing them I think.” He glanced down at your shoes as he spoke. You smile appreciatively at his offer, and nod heartily in agreement. “You never know,” The Captain continued, “You night be able to get a coat like mine.” He mused.  Stubbs was within earshot of the pair of you now, and merely laughed at Victor’s comment. “Who on all these seas would want a coat as heavy or as dull as yours, Sir?” The merchant joked with a wide grin, to which Victor replied with a playful slap. At this, instead of retaliating, Stubbs relinquished the wheel- and it was here you managed to catch a glimpse of what the wheel was fashioned out of. Instead of wood, as one may have expected, the spokes were made out of... Bones. Human bones. You give a quiet, almost horrified gasp as you take an instinctive step back, and Stubbs quickly moves to catch you should you fall. “I know how bad it may seem to you,” The Aussie blurted, “But truthfully it’s not as bad as it may seem- they’re skeleton bones!” He exclaimed, before realising what might be wrong with that explanation. “That is to say, they were essentially dead when we got to them...” He explained, and you calmed down ever so slightly.  “You remember what I said about the Order of Souls?” Victor asked you, calling over his shoulder as he navigated the sea vessel around a rock protruding from the ocean waves, “Well, this is one of the rewards they may try to give you when you bash enough skeletons back into the sand. The capstan, and canons are the same- see?” He pointed briefly forward, down to the deck. At a glance, you didn’t see anything as unusual as the wheel had been. Then you saw them- first the skull, seated in the middle of the capstan, surrounded by femurs; and then the canons, adorned with the ribcages of long dead skeletons. Truly, if you were an enemy of the Order of Souls, The Omen would be one hell of an adversary to get through. 

“Raise middle and back sails!” Victor bellowed, making sure his voice reached all the crew on deck. The crew immediately set about following the orders they had been given, shouting to one another to communicate which way to pull the ropes, all working together as one to do as they had been told. Victor was quickly turning the wheel, and now you could in part understand why his arms had been so toned when he rolled up his sleeves back in the captain’s cabin. “Raise the front sail!” His voice boomed again, as the ship drew closer to the wooden dock.  “Should we anchor, sir?” Stubbs asked, and Victor shook his head in reply.  “When do we ever anchor, Stubbs?” He retorted with a faint chuckle. “It makes us sitting ducks- we’ve been through this before.”  “I know, Captain,” Stubbs sighed, sounding a little exasperated. He shook his head as Victor patted his shoulder with a laugh.  “Now, now, don’t go sulking off. I know that look.” Victor grinned at the man he was speaking with. “I was hoping you could help Ver and Jade deliver some of our cargo to the merchants whilst I take our new crew member down to the tavern and the other facilities available.” Stubbs looked over his shoulder with a smile.  “Alright... I can never refuse something like that from my Captain.” The merchant mused, before heading down the stairs onto the main deck, talking with two other crew members dressed in similar clothes to him- they must have been Jade and Ver.  “Right, now this way,” Victor caught your attention, leading you to the side of the ship on deck, where a gang plank had been lowered onto the dock. The sound of Victor’s boots on the surface of the wood sounded almost like a horse, and you followed swiftly after, glancing up and down the dock. 

You had disembarked near a small market stall-like structure built into the dock- covered in crates, cages and other goods to be transported across the seas. Stubbs, Ver and Jade moved towards the small area, arms full of crates of silks and tea. They were very clearly the merchants, and welcomed the three pirates graciously.  You walk further, and the wooden planks of the dock transition into soft sand. You walk up a little slope, catching up with Victor and walking beside him as he reaches the door of the local tavern. There was a woman leaning against a support beam, and eating a mango.  “Ah, Captain Farely. It’s good to see you again, how long has it been?” She asked him with a smile.  “A long time, Larina.” Victor replied with a chuckle, “But I can’t stop now- new crewmate to become acquainted with,” He nodded to you as he held the heavy tavern door open, gesturing for you to enter the dimly lit establishment first. “I’ll be seeing you.” He nodded to Larina, ducking inside  as she waved her goodbye with a low chuckle. 

The tavern was rather small- it would just barely be able to fit the crew of the Omen in there, and not all of them would be able to sit down. “You go and find a seat, I’ll get us some drinks.” He told you, and you nodded in reply. He approached the bar, smiling in greeting at the barmaid. You see them exchange a few words as you take a seat at a round, rough table. The wood threatened to stab a splinter into you hand or finger, so you try to keep your skin away from the surface. Victor soon returned to you, placing a large, metallic tankard in front of you; to which you give him a quizzical look. “Is this..?”  “All yours, yes.” Victor chuckled. “It’s alright, I was just as concerned when my captain put my first tankard in front of me.” He told you, taking a slow sip of the frothy grog in his own tankard. “Take it slowly- it’s strong stuff. You’ll get used to it eventually, but for now just take it one mouthful at a time,” He suggested with a warm and friendly smile. He then raised his tankard ever so slightly, extending it to you. “Well- to the newest member of the family on The Omen!” He proclaimed. “May your seas be blue and calm, you gold and glory bountiful in equal measure!” He chuckled, as you gently knocked your tankard against his with a small, almost invisible sheepish smile. You take a cautious sip of the alcohol, and almost choke on the liquid.  “Oh my god,” You sputtered. “That’s revolting!” You slam the tankard down onto the table, causing it to shake, and Victor chuckles lightly.  “Yes...” He agreed quietly, looking down into the barrel of his drink. “It is less than savoury... But honestly, after a while, you don’t really notice it.” He leant a little bit closer to you so he could whisper. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to finish it all.” He assured you, before leaning back and getting comfortable again. “Anyway. After this, we’ll get you some proper gear- you can pick out whatever you like, I’ll splash out on you this once. But you lose or damage any of it- you’re on your own for that.” He grinned playfully.  “Alright, thank you, Victor.”  “My pleasure,” Farley nodded, raising his tankard again before taking another sip.