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glxssylaufey · 3 years

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Mischief Maker - Chapter 1

a/n: PLEASE READ THE FIX TEASER BEFORE READING THIS :) i hope you all enjoy!

summary: loki x reader ; The reader is already faced with problems regarding Loki. Meanwhile, Tony plans a party.

word count: 3,461

warnings: minor bad language, mentions of drinking

taglist: @alex-sulli @delightfulheartdream

“Have I overcooked the steak again, Y/N?”

You didn’t quite realize that you were spacing out until Wanda’s voice had snapped you back into reality. You lift your head to find a mix of confusion and concern in her eyes.

“Oh not at all, it’s perfect.” you reassure her, poking at the dinner she had prepared for you that night. Wanda was a kind soul. She knew that ever since this morning you were on edge, so she thought that a homemade meal would help remedy your uneasiness.

“It’s okay if you’re not hungry.” Wanda assured you after a bit of silence. “I know you probably have a lot on your mind.” she spoke softly, feeding herself more food from her plate.

“Do you think I made the right choice?” you questioned, pushing your plate aside because you indeed were not hungry. Wanda continued to chew, allowing herself time to really think of the circumstances. What you did not expect was for her to stay silent even after her mouthful of food was swallowed. Normally when Wanda remained silent after receiving a question, it was not good news.

“Well it is true, people can change.” she suggested with a shrug. “I think you’re going to be just fine.”

You don’t blame her for avoiding the question because after all, you didn’t even know if you made the right decision agreeing to watch over Loki.

You opened your mouth to say something but was cut off by loud pounding on the door to Wanda’s room. You hopped to your feet, a low groan escaping your lips. What could possibly be going wrong so early into the ten days? When you opened the door, you were faced with a distraught Sam Wilson, frantically tapping his foot. Once his eyes meet yours, he gives you an exasperated look.

“What are you doing?!” he queried loudly. His tone was as if he caught you doing something unspeakable.

“Having dinner?” it came out almost like a question. “Is there something you need, Sam?”

“Yeah, I need you to do your job and get Loki out of the movie room.” he demanded, taking a step back to allow you out of the doorframe. At first, you didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, yet you followed behind Sam regardless.

When you reached the movie room, you were faced with exactly what you had expected. Some juvenile situation that could easily be solved if you weren’t dealing with such hot headed men. When you walked into the room, you found Loki laying with his legs sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued onto a book he held in one hand. His body effortlessly took up the entire couch, considering his impressive height. You were relieved, at least he hadn't stabbed anybody. At least not yet. Next to the couch, Bucky stood with his arms crossed glaring down at the seemingly peaceful god.

“What’s the problem, James?” you asked.

“Well, Sam and I were going to watch a movie.” he explained as if it were obvious. “But your little friend here is taking up the whole space, even though we reserved this spot tonight.” Bucky’s words caught Loki’s attention and he slowly raised his head from his book to look up at you. When he saw that you were who Sam retrieved to save the day, he rolled his eyes. That seemed to be common for him.

“She is not my friend.” Loki spat coldly. “And I was already here first.”

“But we already reserved the spot, I’ve told you this about six damn times.” Sam whined with aggravation in his voice. You sighed, mentally face-palming yourself at how childish Sam and Bucky were being. Though you opted to take their side because you knew you would never hear the end of it if you didn’t.

“Loki, you can always move to a different room where it might be quieter anyways.” you gently propose. You made sure to choose your words carefully in order not to agitate him. When his head shot up to look directly at you, your heart dropped to your stomach. You swallowed a lump in your throat, hoping you didn’t upset him any further.

“This room has the best lighting for my reading. I do not want a separate room.” he claimed, seemingly speaking more to Sam and Bucky rather than you. You panicked for a moment, feeling like you’ve run out of ideas. Thankfully, you were a quick thinker.

“I think I might have a better spot for you.” you quickly remarked. You held your breath as you awaited his response, hoping you sounded enticing enough to get him to leave the room with you. Much to your relief, Loki stood with a huff after planting his bookmark in his book.

“Lead the way.” he challenged in a sarcastic mood. You give a simple nod before turning to walk out the door with the God of Mischief behind you. As you walked out, you heard Bucky yell an exhausted “thank you” to which you just waved your hand in the air to dismiss him.

While walking down the hallway, you mustered up enough courage to slow your steps in order to walk beside Loki rather than in front of him.

“I’m really sorry about those two, I know they can act like they own the place sometimes.” you apologized, hoping to lighten the mood. Loki merely just shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m given a good spot to continue reading as you promised.” he replied plainly. This of course only made you second guess your pick of a location. You continued to walk with Loki until you both crossed paths with Natasha, who immediately looked curious as to what you two were doing.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” she asked, turning to face you.

“Just peachy.” you replied, forcing the smile on your face. “I’m taking Loki outside. He needs a quiet place to read.” you explained. Natasha did no further questioning and thankfully neither did Loki. He didn’t seem to have a problem with being led outside.

“You two have fun.” she spoke with a chuckle. “By the way, don’t forget we have another one of Stark’s parties to attend tomorrow night.” her reminder caused you to stop in your tracks. Stark’s parties were always flashy and extravagant, the type of thing that you felt completely turned off of as of recently.

“Of course.” you scoffed. “Thanks for telling me.”

“But do you know if… you know.” Natasha gestured towards Loki. You quickly caught onto what she was hinting at. Would Tony even allow Loki to step foot into the party? You sigh and look up at Loki who seemed confused as to what you two were talking about.

“I don’t care what Tony says. Loki shouldn’t be locked away in his room.” you declare, setting your foot down. Your statement only seemed to intrigued Loki.

“Should I be concerned?” he asked, looking to the both of you.

“Not at all!” you exclaimed quickly. “Now let’s go before it gets dark out.” you began speed walking towards the door hoping Loki would follow behind you. Thankfully, he continued to walk without any more questions. Once you both finally got out of the doors to the compound, Loki took a deep breath and looked around. It wasn’t until now you realized he probably hasn’t gotten much fresh air since arriving here. Though much to your dismay, Loki didn’t let the events with Natasha go unanswered.

“Will you tell me what you and Agent Romanoff spoke of now?” he asked, genuine curiosity laced in his voice. You decided not to protest. He deserved to know, after all. You gave yourself a moment to compose your thoughts so your explanation came out efficiently. You both continued to walk.

“Tony likes to host these huge parties from time to time to let all the Avengers have a break from their work and just have some fun with one another.” you paused, not knowing how to word the next bit. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that Tony isn’t very fond of you.”

“Of course I have.” he stated, almost in offense. “And I suppose he wants me locked away in my room as you said?”

You just simply looked at him and nodded, relieved he caught on quick. As you both continued to walk toward the hill you always painted on, you decided not to speak and allow Loki time to dwell on the situation.

“Well thank you.” he finally said. “For not wanting me to be hidden away.” he added quickly. Due to reasons you can’t explain, you blushed at Loki’s gratitude. Hearing kind words from him was refreshing. It had actually caught you off guard with how quickly he could switch from overbearing to gentle so fast.

“You’re welcome.” you replied with a warm smile. Once you two finally reached the top of the hill, you let out a sigh as you looked around. It was perfect. The two of you had the perfect view of the sunset which was glowing a beautiful orange and pink ombré. A gust of warm wind gently rushed through the air, giving you a sense of comfort. When you turned to look at Loki, you found he was also admiring the scene displayed in front of him. As you studied his face, you noticed there was just something about the way the sun hit his face that made him seem so normal. Maybe even human. When he turned to look at you, you jumped a little after being caught blatantly staring at him.

“Do you come up here often?” he questioned, taking a step towards you. To avoid any sort of eye contact, you let your head hang low to watch your feet kick at the grass lightly.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite place to come when I want to be alone.” you explained to the ground. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to tell how nervous you were to be alone with him. Of course, he did.

“Do I frighten you, girl?” he pondered, tilting his head to the side to make an attempt to look at your face. His question made your breath hitch, though you would never let him notice. You brought your head up to look at him once more, but was startled to find that Loki was standing just a mere foot away from you. You cleared your throat quickly to reply.

“No.” you lied. You knew good and well that he intimidated you possibly more than anything else in the Avengers tower.

“You know, I wouldn’t blame you if you were.” he assured you. “I’m sure your friends have fed you all the awful stories about me.”

“I was there when it happened, so I already knew about the incident.” you informed him, hoping you didn’t come off as rude. Loki hummed in response. There was a moment of silence between the two of you, making the air feel awkward.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person though.” you spoke truthfully. You hoped to give him any sort of comfort to counteract the heaviness of the moment. Loki continued to stare at you before nodding in appreciation.

“I’m grateful.” he answered with certainty. You smile and turn back to face the sunset that has now faded to a beautiful pastel pink. Feeling a sense of self-consciousness come down upon you, you suddenly decide that you have overstayed. Even if you were technically in a place that was very much yours.

“Well if all you were looking for was a place to read, I’ll leave you be now.” you said, turning back to face Loki. What you did not expect was Loki to give you a confused look as if you weren’t supposed to leave.

“Don’t you want to watch the rest of the sunset?” he asked, waving his hand towards the sky. His recommendation made your cheeks burn up. Gods, why was he making you so flustered? You took a step back towards where you were previously next to him.

“I’d love to.” you replied sweetly. That was the first time you saw Loki, the God of Mischief smile. It was quick and simple, nothing more than a smirk. It made your heart warm up nonetheless.

Loki continued to tell you of the sunsets on Asgard while the two of you sat on top of the grassy hill. It soothed your mind to hear how comfortable Loki was talking to you. You sat and was a good listener to Loki, enjoying all the descriptions he gave you of his home. In return, you told him of your artwork and how you were actually a painter when you weren’t being an Avenger.

“You’d find the art on Asgard to be quite astounding then.” he said at one point. “Thor has told me much about you. He never told me you were a painter.” you raised an eyebrow at Loki’s statement.

“Thor has talked about me?” you asked with a smile. Loki paused for a moment to think, lightly groaning in frustration.

“Of course. That’s all the oaf does is talk.” Loki swore. There was a small sigh that did not go unnoticed from Loki. It soon became apparent that Loki wasn’t very adoring of talking about his brother. You quickly decided to change the subject.

“Well I can always show you some of my art work if you’d like.” you suggested. Loki remained silent, making you worrisome. You wondered if you had overstepped with recommending him some of your paintings. After a couple of seconds, Loki finally turns to connect his eyes with yours.

“I’d like that.” he assured you softly.

The two of you talked until the sun had fully vanished into the night. The both of you walked back to the tower in silence, neither of you quite knowing what to say. The moment you had walked back into the tower, you were approached by Tony who had some sort of list in his hand.

“Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see.” he announced. “Listen, I have to discuss the party with you. Um, Reindeer Games, if you don’t mind?” Tony said, rudely waving Loki away in the other direction. Loki simply glared at Tony before stomping off to wherever he decided to go next.

“You know, there’s no need to be rude.” you said to Tony quietly.

“Oh what, you two are like best buds now?” he teased. You didn’t respond, letting Tony get his laughs in. “Anyways, I wanted to ask if you’re interested in making a little bit of cash.”

You quirk an eyebrow at Tony, already having a bad feeling about where this is going.

“What do you mean?” you ask, utterly confused. Tony just smiled and unraveled the list he held in his hand, revealing a whole index full of people’s names you had no clue existed.

“I have a whole bunch of rich assholes coming tomorrow that are completely loaded. So, being the nice person I am, I thought I’d ask if you had any pieces of art that you’re willing to put prices on for these people.” you groan, listening to the proposition that was very much a Tony Stark idea.

“You want people to bid on my art?” you plainly summed up everything Tony said.

“You’ll get every penny!” he threw his hands up in mock defense. “I just need some kind of big event to get people to show up.” You rolled your eyes.

“Tony, I can’t. I’ll be busy enough making sure Loki doesn’t get into any trouble at the party.” you explained. You were hoping your words would go right over Tony’s head, but of course it didn’t. Nothing ever gets past him.

“Oh, no. Oh hell no, he’s not coming near my party! I don’t need him scaring away my guests.” Tony exclaimed. There it was. The big demand from the man himself that will forbid Loki from acting as a normal person. Or god, per say.

“Why not? He really does seem like he's changed.” you tried to persuade him, but as you expected, your pleas fell upon deaf ears.

“Don’t care.” Tony said with a matter of fact tone. “Please just do me a favor and go through some old paintings. It doesn’t have to be huge, just something that’ll make rich people feel richer.” he ordered while walking back to his lab. With that said, it seemed like you really didn’t have much of a choice. You began to walk back to your room, already thinking of a plan to allow Loki out of his room during the party. After seeing the amount of people on the guest list, you deemed it easy enough to sneak him into the party.

Third Person POV:

Loki banged on the doors to his brother’s room desperately. As he knocked, he looked around to make sure nobody would catch him pounding on the door like a madman. Once the doors finally opened, Thor’s eyes lit up to find his brother had come to visit him.

“Oh, brother! What a surprise this is!” Thor practically shouted with a smile. Loki didn’t bother with returning the enthusiasm. “Please come in.” Thor requested, opening the door wider to allow his brother entry. When Loki walked in, his nose scrunched at the mess of Thor’s room. There were clothes everywhere with several empty beer bottles scattered about. Not to mention all the various candy wrappers that decorated the floor.

“By the norns, has our mother raised a pig?” Loki ridiculed his brother in disgust. This of course didn’t phase Thor due to the fact that he’s dealt with Loki’s judgement even as children. As a matter of fact, he expected it when Loki walked in.

“Last time I checked, no.” Thor replied with a smile. “Now, what is it you need, brother?” Thor asked. Loki looked his brother in the eyes for a good moment before speaking again. Loki often did this to be sure Thor was actually listening.

“It’s about Y/N.” Loki finally admitted. “She’s so different.” Loki said almost in puzzlement.

“Whatever do you mean?” Thor asked, tilting his head to the side.

“She was unceasingly friendly to me today, without even asking anything in return.” Loki explained, confusion written on his face. “I want to repay the kindness to her.” Loki stated confidently. Thor chuckled lightly, happy to see that someone was showing his brother kindness.

“Ah yes, Y/N is a very sweet girl.” Thor confirmed happily. “Have you taken an interest in her, brother?” Thor suggested with a wink. Loki’s eyes widened in anger at Thor’s teasing and he hit his brother firmly in his broad chest.

“Of course not! That is absurd!” Loki blurted out. “I simply just want to return the favor after she was kind to me, that is all.” Loki corrected Thor.

“It is not such a far fetched idea, brother! She is a very likable woman.” Thor shamelessly stated. This made Loki think back to earlier when he told Y/N of Thor speaking of her. He recalled the way her eyes sparkled when he mentioned Thor speaking of her. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that it was Thor that Y/N had affections towards. After all, what woman wasn’t completely head over heels for his brother? Loki rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Just tell me what I should do to repay her for being so pleasant to me.” Loki said with irritation deep in his tone.

“Stark is holding a party tomorrow night.” Thor said with a snap after a bit of contemplating. “You can ask to treat her to a drink.” Thor suggested. It seemed like the perfect idea. That was until Loki remembered your conversation with Natasha.

“I can’t.” he said simply. “Stark is prohibiting me from going to his little get together.” Loki snorted. Thor began to brainstorm ideas. He was happy that someone was finally showing warmth to his brother and he did not want anything to get in the way of it.

“Then I shall sneak you in!” Thor exclaimed with his typical mightiness. Loki rolled his eyes at his brother’s over-confidence.

“And how do you expect to do that?” Loki challenged, crossing his arms.

“I will find a way. Surely it can’t be that hard.” Thor affirmed with a beaming smile. “C’mon brother, you’re the God of Mischief! Surely something like this is right up your alley.” Thor made a good point. Loki knew it would be easy enough to fool the Midgardians. After some consideration, Loki smiled at his brother.

“What do you have in mind?”

#tom hiddleston #marvel #marvel mcu #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki #fanfic #marvel fanfic series #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#chapter one

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

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Fried Rice and... Kiwi? (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Happy third birthday to HS1! Here’s something short and sweet in it’s honor. I came across this gif earlier today and all I could think about was lying on Harry’s tummy and listening to him talk about the album. Hence, this fic was born. Obviously, I had to turn it into dad!Harry, because that’s all I can manage to do ever. Like, literally ever. But, regardless! Enjoy, take care, and TPWK. gif by @stylesinthewild!!!

Three sequential knocks on the weighted, wooden door broke up the playful banter occurring in the studio. It wasn’t a request to enter, more so a signal of arrival and a warning - she was coming in whether they liked it or not.

“Delivery!”

Smells of grease and soy sauce filled the nostrils of everyone inside as she cautiously maneuvered her way around discarded instruments and cords and towards the coffee table with a both arms full of enough take out to feed a small army.

“God, thank you! You’re the best! Been starvin’ all day,” Jeff piped up from the armchair he’d been sitting in.

“Genuinely! You didn’t have to come all the way across town to bring us dinner,” Sarah added, hair aloof and sticking up around her head as if she’d been running her fingers through it incessantly over the past few hours.

“Well, someone,” Y/N sneered, cutting her eyes back to Jeff, “keeps stealing my man away from me and I’m tired of waiting for him at home, so I figured I’d just pay him a visit here instead.”

“A simple, ‘You’re welcome, Jeff,’ would’ve done ya just fine!” he sarcastically fired back as the rest of the room doubled over in laughter.

Harry was up and out of the cushion he’d been slumped back in to grab the paper bags that were balanced on top of his girlfriend’s arms so he could take her hands in his and guide her towards him.

“Tip your driver?” she cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips down at him when he sat back down.

“Hmmm,” Harry toyed with her comment, pretending to pat down his pockets in search for change, “‘Ve only got my undying love and affection and an endless amount of kisses. Will that do?”

“I suppose,” Y/N huffed, leaning in to press her lips chastely against his.

“Okay, let’s see if I got this right,” she directed her attention back to the group as she fished around the bags of food.

“Beef and broccoli for Mitch?” The long-haired, almost-resembling-jesus brunette smirked and nodded as he leaned over to take the white carton from her hands.

“Kung Po chicken with extra sauce for Sarah,” Y/N stated confidently. She knew that one for certain.

Sarah bowed graciously as she swiped a handful of duck sauce from the bag after taking her order from Y/N.

“Hot and Sour soup for Adam and Jeff.”

She handed Adam the plastic tub of hot liquid as if she was presenting him a sacred piece of treasure and cast Jeff’s soup away dramatically as if to say she was still fake-mad at him for keeping Harry holed up in the studio for long hours and couldn’t care less if he spilled the damn thing in his lap or not.

“You’re too kind,” Jeff scoffed, earning a pointed middle finger in his direction from Y/N.

“And last but certainly not least,” she grabbed the two remaining cartons by the thin metal handles and presented one to Harry, “Veggies for the boy.”

“Thank you, lovie,” Harry responded earnestly as he grabbed utensils for the both of them, chopsticks for him and a fork for her (he’d tried to teach her more times than he could count to use chopsticks properly but she could never quite get the technique down successfully) and dug into the steaming heap of vegetables packed to the brim of the container.

It was peacefully quiet as everyone chowed down on the takeout Y/N had brought in, everyone coming to the realization of how hungry they’d gotten after spending the entire day writing, composing, and recording an album. Harry and Y/N sat on opposite ends of the couch, her feet resting comfortably in his lap.

“Wha’ did you get?” Harry asked through a mouthful of food.

“Rice.”

Harry frowned.

“Just rice?”

“Wasn’t that hungry,” Y/N shrugged, “Plus, I might have eaten the leftover pizza from the other day right before I came.”

“Still. ‘S not good f’ you. Need t’ be eating better than tha’,” the newly short-haired brunette (Y/N may have shed a tear when he told her he was cutting it) gathered an assortment of sauteed vegetables with his chopsticks before leaning over the couch and dangling it above her lips, waiting for her to open her mouth and accept the bite.

She managed to catch it all, sans a thin strip of onion that she quickly slurped up before it fell and wiped the remaining sauce from the corner of her mouth with her knuckle.

“You two disgust me,” Jeff called out from across the room, a scowl adorning his features.

Harry smiled that obnoxiously cheesy shit-eating grin that he had become infamous for having in his manager’s direction, being sure to push the chewed up broccoli to the front of his teeth to only add to Jeff’s so-called repulsion.

“I think you’re just jealous that the attention’s not on you,” Y/N stated matter-of-factly, “I’m carrying precious cargo. It’s part of the job description now.”

She gave a snide and over-dramatised rub over her swollen belly where hers and Harry’s unborn child was nestled conveniently on top of her organs, making it harder and harder to move around and have any kind of energy as of late.

“If I recall correctly, I’m carrying his career. ‘S pretty precious if you ask me.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N plopped her half-eaten side of fried rice onto the table in front of her and shifted her body so that she was lying in Harry’s lap, her head resting perfectly where his thighs met his toned, yet somehow still soft tummy. Harry acclimated to her new position with ease, freeing one his hands so he could pet her hair gently.

“What did you guys work on today?” she asked, her fingers slipping under the hem of Harry’s shirt to absent-mindedly rub the sparse strip of hair that trailed down from his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his boxers that were just barely peaking through the top of his jeans - similar to how he stroked her bump when they cuddle in bed at night.

“Finished up the master for Two Ghosts and added the keys to Woman, but tha’s about it. Started playin’ with another one, but I’m not sure that it’s gonna go anywhere.”

“Yeah? Was it the one you were playing for me the other night?”

Harry shook his head through another bite of his food and swallowed.

“Think we’re gonna do tha’ one next week. We were just messin’ ‘round w’ this one. Doubt I’ll ever go back to it after today.”

“Well, can I at least hear it before you scrap it?”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek and peered around the room, trying to locate the hard drive that held all of their practice runs and demos.

“Did they take the laptop when they left?” he asked.

“Nah, it’s still here. Let me go get it,” Jeff promptly shimmied out of his seat, stuffed to the brim with tofu and bamboo shoots that were mixed into his soup, making him move a bit slower than he had earlier.

Whilst Jeff was digging around in the back room in search of the song Harry was almost certain would get lost deep down in the numerous files of unfinished songs and melodies, Y/N tapped Harry’s stomach with her pointer finger to get his attention and opened her mouth, signaling she wanted another bite of his food. He dropped the veggies into her mouth gingerly, making sure to avoid staining his shirt or accidentally dropping a carrot on Y/N’s nose.

“Thank you for comin’. Missed ye’ all day,” Harry spoke in a whisper so that only Y/N could hear him.

“Missed you too,” she mumbled through her chewing, “She doesn’t move much when you’re gone. Think she misses you more.”

In that moment, he was thankful she wasn’t lying on his chest, because she most certainly would have heard his heart combust and scatter like confetti into his gut at the mention of his sweet baby girl that was set to arrive in a few months time.

“’S she kickin’ right now?”

A wide grin appeared on Y/N’s face and she nodded, taking the chopsticks out of Harry’s hand so she could move it down her waist and press it against the underside of her belly where their daughter was seemingly doing summersaults in the presence of her father.

It always amazed him, each and every time. How there was a human being growing inside of her and he had a hand in creating her. Although he hadn’t met her just yet, he was postive she was the most precious and sweetest creature he’s ever known.

Bursting the sugary sweet bubble they’d trapped themselves in, Jeff arrived promptly with the laptop tucked under his arm. He brought it to life, skimming the dozens of folders within the drive until he found the one he was looking for.

“Found it!” he announced to the room.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

As if it would allow her to hear the song more clearly, Y/N lifted her head from Harry’s lap and sat up beside him instead. She leaned against his shoulder, letting her fingers intertwine with the ones attached to his arm that was pressed against hers.

The beginnings of an electric guitar and Harry’s voice filled her ears, Y/N immediately clocking the sound as something unlike anything he had previewed for her thus far. It was heavier, more akin to the style of an actual rockstar that graced stages across the country in tight pants and ooze sex appeal from every pore in their body (not that Harry didn’t already do that).

Next, she heard the heavy pounding of drums, to which she gave Sarah a raise of her brow and look of approval for her skill. She had absolutely no explanation for the way this song Harry had been so pertinent about tossing in the trash was making her press her thighs together to mediate the heat rising within, but it was there. The dull, persistent throb that made her wish her and Harry were the only ones in the room so that she could straddle him right there on the couch and have her way with him.

Pregnancy hormones. Yeah, that’s what it was. Well, at least that’s what she was telling herself.

And then she heard the chorus.

I’m having your baby. It’s none of your business.

She cut her eyes to Harry, who was undeniably blushing and had his face buried in his free hand as if he was scared to see her reaction. He was smirking underhead his palm, knowing good and well that she was staring at him as the lyrics repeated themselves over and over and over again. When he finally decided to peak through his fingers, he was met with her wide-eyed and stunned expression, to which he burst into a fit of giggles that shook his belly and made his sides ache. Y/N couldn’t help but join in on the laughter, shaking her head at his bluntness, for lack of a better word.

The song wasn’t long at all as it was clearly choppy and unfinished and a product of Harry, as he’d said in his own words, messing around with his friends. Sure, it needed some cleaning up and could use a bit more substinance, but it was by no means bad or anything worth chucking in her opinion. It was very much a song written about her, so she felt like she could stand confidently by that opinion.

“Well, shit,” Y/N huffed as the instruments came to an abrupt hault and all that was left of the recording were dwindling laughter and shuffles in the background while whoever was in charge of the sound board moved to cut the microphones, “That gets right to the point. Doesn’t it?”

“That’s what we said,” Sarah managed to get out in between wiping the mascara from under her eyes that ran when she was laughing at her dear friend’s reaction.

“I mean, I don’t think it’s bad at all. Needs some cleaning up, but I think you should keep working on it,” Y/N said honestly, prying Harry’s hand from his face so she could kiss him on the cheek.

“Oh, gee. Thanks. Didn’t know you were on payroll as a producer too,” Jeff called out contemptuously.

“Umm, without me, you wouldn’t have half of this album. Think I can say whatever I want about the matter. Thank you very much.”

Harry pressed his lips together and pointed at her with his fingers shaped like a handgun as if to corroborate what Y/N had just said.

“Yeh actually liked it though?” there was a hint of surprise in his voice.

He hadn’t expected that. He’d expected a smack on the chest or a scold, not praise.

Y/N smiled at the bashful boy beside her, picking a piece of fuzz from the collar of his shirt and flicking it off to the wayside.

“’S gonna have everyone’s panties in a bunch, that’s for sure.”

She picked up Harry’s arm and draped it around her shoulder so she could properly snuggle into his side.

“That damn kiwi,” she said with a playful sigh.

“Pardon?” Harry looked down, bewildered, to see Y/N busying herself by gently poking the taut skin of her tummy in attempt to get their baby to poke her back with her tiny hand or foot, there was really no way of telling which was which.

“That’s when I said that to you,” Y/N yawned, “I was craving kiwi and fuming mad because you ate the last one and when you asked why I was so worked up about it, I told you it’s because I was having your baby, but it wasn’t any of your business.”

The recollection immediately dawned on Harry, making him smack his forehead with a closed fist.

“That’s where that came from! I couldn’t remember what happened, but I’ve always thought that was the funniest thing you’ve ever said t’ me.”

“Ehhh, it’s top ten for sure. Wouldn’t say the funniest, but it’s up there.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her indifference, but he won’t lie and say that it wasn’t one of the things he loved about her the most. How even though she can be the biggest pain in his ass, she always finds a way to bring light into his life and make him smile even it seems next to impossible.

“So yeh think it should stay in the running?”

“Definitely. If I wasn’t already pregnant, I’d beg you to put one in me right here in this studio after hearing it,” she said nonchalantly.

Jeff mocked a gagging noise, “I think I’m genuinely going to hurl.”

“Oh, be an adult for once in your life, Azoff!” Y/N quipped.

Harry stiffled his laughter into her neck, tickling the tiny hairs that rose to goosebumps with each breath he exhaled onto her skin.

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N. I hear about you two every damn day in this studio. ‘S just like you said, the whole bloody album is about you two not being able to keep your hands off of each other for five seconds. ‘M surprised it’s taken you this long t’ get knocked up.”

Harry remained tight-lipped, having reduced his giggle fit to a minimum as he watched two of the most important people in his life bicker back and forth like children fighting over a toy. He supposes, in this case, he is the toy in question, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

“Gonna make a damn good album, though. Isn’t it?” Y/N’s haughty smirk answered that question all on its own.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x pregnant!reader #dad!harry #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry x pregnant!reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing

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tired-n-sleepy · 3 years

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I posted 3,303 times in 2021

47 posts created (1%)

3256 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 69.3 posts.

I added 1,518 tags in 2021

#rammstein - 988 posts

#till lindemann - 147 posts

#rzk - 110 posts

#re village - 58 posts

#paul landers - 48 posts

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#metalocalypse - 31 posts

#jjba - 29 posts

#horror - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 131 characters

#oh a man make an elaborate story about how his house is haunted and like to record it even thought it is fake as shit but engaging?

My Top Posts in 2021

imma complain more about gringos, what bothers me most is that gringos come latin/hispanic spaces (yes this film is for everyone but more specifically columbians/latinos) and they have several latinos explain to them why their comments are ignorant. and we’re being genuinely helpful in my opinion, and they are rude to us claiming we don’t know what we’re talking about. y’all ignorant gringos need to shut up and listen if you want to come into our spaces. and a reminder gringos are anyone who isn’t latino/hispanic, doesn’t matter what your race is. you listen to latinos if you’re being ignorant about our cultures and people.

i’m just sick of gently explaining to gringos that they are being ignorant about the diversity in encanto and then just getting rude comments back, i had one gringo tell me that they didn’t need my opinion cause they’ve already changed their mind when they claimed the madrigal family didn’t look like a family in their opinion. it was so rude. you listen to us when you’re in our spaces and we’ll listen to you when we’re in your spaces. it’s a two way street. shut up and listen, in fact thank us when we’re gentle when you’re so blatantly ignorant.

☝️☝️☝️

21 notes • Posted 2021-12-02 01:39:35 GMT

a nicaraguan… yeah i’m so tired of gringos sharing their opinions on it. y’all don’t share your opinions on it. representation for every latino matters and original concepts change that’s why they’re called original. pepa is great rep regardless, everyone is great rep in the movie because of the variety.

Yeah I agree with you, we latinos are not all the same, we are so mixed that we look very different in our own families, i think gringos don't understand that what they know is not the same in other places, they try to fight for us but end talking over us

Gringos try to impose what they think on others and that's what piss me off the most

The people on charge of encanto really studied my country and my people, everyone in the movie is good representation because they all are different and unique and I thank them for that

30 notes • Posted 2021-12-01 02:42:53 GMT

I don't want gringos talking about encanto, you all lost privileges to talk about it when you all started the whitewashed comments shit

We Colombians don't care about your opinions, thanks

50 notes • Posted 2021-12-01 02:01:23 GMT

Soo... yeah about the Pepa whitewashed thing. JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE IS HISPANIC DOESNT MEAN THEY CANT BE WHITE SKNNED. I'm Peruvian, AND IM LIGHT-SKINNED. My brother has pale skin and RED HAIR. My mom is LIGHT-SKINNED AND HAS FRECKLESSSSSS. I AM SOOO SOOO GLAD THAT THEY MADE PEPA HOW SHE IS. ALL THESE PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT WHITE WASH NEED TO GET IT TOGETHER. ok that was all, thanks ^^

We come in all colors not only one, we are mixed and i think they forget we were colonized too

Once again latin América joins force against gringos and their stupid takes

If any of you want to scream about the gringos, my asks are open lol

57 notes • Posted 2021-12-01 23:49:29 GMT

same anon here… gringos don’t understand how much pepa means for us pale latinos. so many gringos question my latina identity and it gets on my nerves, and made me question my identity for so long because they don’t understand genes. i had a driving instructor look at my last name, and legit asked me “girl why is your name hispanic you’re pale as hell” i was ready to fight her. i’m so done, i shouldn’t have to remind people i’m latina cause i’m pale. yeah soak it in i’m pale as hell, what they don’t know is that i was much darker when i was little (still light but darker than now) cause i have an iron deficiency that made me more pale.

pepa means so much to us, and we’re not saying afro latinos don’t deserve rep. they do too, they deserve rep and they got that in encanto. so did we, please don’t call us white washed. we’re not, we’re just as latino as any other latino.

Exactly! I'm mestiza so that means I am more pale than others in my family, that doesn't mean im less Latina or adopted or whatever no sense they are saying

Is really sad that people make you and many others not feel as latinos just because we all don't look how they think we should look

Representation is important for everyone not just for some

109 notes • Posted 2021-12-01 03:07:11 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #inreally thought that rzk was gonna be the second #you know people shit talking gringos as my top post is the best

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jaeminscoffee · 4 years

Text

The midnight man | l.ty

Pairing- Lee Taeyong x reader

Mentions- Lee Donghyuck, Na Jaemin, Liu YangYang, Nakamoto Yuta, Seo Johnny, Kim Doyoung, Ten Lee, Lee Dong Wook.

Genre- Horror!au, angst, crack, part fluff.

Warning(s)- Evil entity!Taeyong, Manipulation, Major character death (lmao you'll actually punch yourself towards the end), sexual themes suggested, impulsive decision making, talks with religion.

Word count- 11.83k

Synopsis- 'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

@kpopscape

This story is pure work of fiction and therefore doesn't speak about the mentioned members' personality in real life. I, in no manner, am trying to encourage hate speech towards the members so please don't come at me. This story was written using a mix of a bunch of urban legends and few made up by myself and therefore it isn't going to be spoken about the same way as it is in google. I also worked really hard on this piece and it's by far, the longest story I've written so feedbacks would mean a lot!, also it could get a little boring since i took time to focus on the side characters too. Make sure not to repost my works and sign it off as your own because that's a little disheartening and mockful towards the writer. So all credits reversed to @jaeminscoffee 2020©®

If anyone here doesn't know the story behind the midnight game, then read on! Because I've described it throughout the story! Happy reading!

29/10, Thursday, 10:57PM

"We need to do something this halloween man, Y/n come on!"

Your friends all collectively whined as you constantly kept rejecting their proposal.

Halloween is bullshit. It's overhyped and in all honesty, childish. You'd rather prefer staying home than go house to house and make a fool out of your existence. Not to mention you were all past the age of trick or treating. And to add on top of that came all the sugar rush you'd all go through at the end of the day. "For the last time, Hyuck we're not dressing up like crewmates and going trick or treating. I've got other things to do for the love of god" you grunt, rubbing the scrunched up skin to soothe the pain at the temples. University has been acting up again and so has life. "If your 'other things to do' is binge watch high school musical then no, you have no other better things to do" Yangyang bites back.

"It's just, I don't feel like it anymore, alright? It feels too weird going out asking for candies when we're all literally 19 and above. It's time to up the notch." you say, plopping down.

When Haechan called for an emergency meeting in pure 'among us' style back at the guys' dorm, you'd expected it to be about something along the lines of having to console Jaemin or someone for having been stood up on a date. What you didn't expect was to have the boys prepare an entire presentation on who'd dress up as what character from among us and who'd be the impostor, do a little play and then say 'red is sus' and then ask for candies. What made it worse was that you thought they were just pulling a prank on you when in all reality, they were dead serious which made you go, 'oh, oh they aren't pretending to be stupid, they're just in their original form.'

"It won't be that bad, doll. It's a genius plan if you ask me" Jaemim chirped in on the conversation finally after looking back and forth between you, Donghyuck and Yangyang caught up in a meaningless fight. "I don't see how any of this is genius, Jaem. If this plan's anything, it's stupid." You pull out your phone after making your way all the way to the headboard of Jaemin's bed. "How about we try out one of these creepy pasta games?" Yuta finally spoke up. Jaemin's brother, an early graduate, senior and of course a dear friend of yours. Yuta, despite the age difference between your classmates and you, had little to no trouble blending in with the tiny group of yours. Probably the only one who didn't behave like a toddler and the most sane one according to you. Yuta's been an amazing planner since junior year where you first met Jaemin, Yangyang and Donghyuck who then proceeded to introduce you to their senior friend group that consists of Yuta, Johnny, Doyoung; Donghyuck's cousin and Ten. You guys had a friendship the entire campus was envious of. But two year after you getting into the university, the seniors had to graduate. But that didn't stop all your bonds from staying as strong as ever. Not even after Ten got his posting in a town a little far away from the one you guys lived in. The distance didn't change anything between you guys and you were as close as you could ever get.

"Creepypasta?" Donghyuck inquired, looking straight at the guy who aimlessly scrolled down the screen of his device as Yuta didn't even bother looking up while passing the confused boy a nod. Sitting up cross legged from his previous side sitting posture, Yuta showed his phone screen to Donghyuck, who immediately got surrounded by the other two while you stare at the oldest in the room, slightly intrigued by the idea. "Creepypasta's like these horror-related legends that have been copied and pasted around the Internet by people who're too bored for their own sake." you explain as Haechan took the phone out of Yuta's hand who agreed to your explanation. "I read some sick games that I kinda wanna try out and see for myself," he said, looking at you with expectations and then the rest who seemed too immersed in surfing the website.

"Yuta, you of all people should know better than to think all these made up crap's real" you say nonchalantly.

Yuta's a huge skeptic, and so were you. Which is why you got along really well despite the mentioned age gap. The night gatherings back at the boy's dormitory or the girls (in this case, girl, yours) would always end up in narration of on spot made up stories of all genre, mostly horror because apparently according to Jaemin 'Rom-com's overhyped, sci-fi won't be fun when you narrate it out loud, mystery can easily turn boring, comedy, meh i guess, but a good horror story narrated properly, -yes, like you, Haechan- while adding jumpscares here and there could actually result in y'all being too scared to use the bathroom on your own'. And yeah, you'd startle here and there but the stories weren't believable enough for you to actually be scared. On the other hand, Haechan and Jaemin were scaredy cats. Literal toddler's who're so gullible, you could literally tell them there was an alien invasion news flash two minutes ago and they'd be hiding under their bed. And then there's Yangyang, he just doesn't care. He goes along with the plans solely for the fun of it and for the other's' (Haechan and Jaemin) reaction. "That's the point. I don't" he shuffled around to shift closer to you,

"Which is exactly why i want to try them out"

Maybe it's the feline that crossed over his body, maybe it was the fact that his spirit just wasn't ready to leave the human realm yet. Maybe it's the mourning of his family or maybe it's him himself knowing full too well his potential was truly wasted due to the fast departure. Whatever it was, his spirit was definitely made restless.

The world is a cruel place where harsh actions are always sugar coated by honey like words. It's how he knew the doings of his people were wrong that made him disappointed. The practices of the people, his people, were stupid, meaningless and only harmful to the human kind. They fend off the satisfaction of their almighty even if that means that there needs to be sacrification of their loved ones, their nemesis, or them themselves. And it was his ancestors fault for starting all these practices.

Passed down generations from generations was the curse put on the first of their bloodline by the princess he'd defied to go out and be ruthless by disregarding his duties as a husband, a father, a member of the royal courts and as a human being.

Lee Dong Wook. The root of all evil, the main reason the males of the family line faced the same wrath as him, all cursing at him but one namely enjoying his role. The pagans, dating back to the roman times era had a very, let's say, interesting method of punishing. The said lords they'd worship, the people following the religions had a strong belief that nature is sacred and that the natural cycles of birth, growth and death observed in the world around us carry profoundly spiritual meanings. Gods and goddesses of life, or say, death or anything else that exists beyond life and death, they believed in all.

The doings of his ancestors started off innocent. Sacrifices to the lords of goodness and tranquility, a peaceful life by the towns and outskirts, forgiveness for wrong doings and of course, happiness. It's how any religious rituals would go about and all were happy until the said betrayer of the group came in with that curse of his. 'The doings of his shall be repented for all the men following shall be the one paying it,'

At first glance when the man returned back to his royals, there were little to no suspicions of a curse being casted on him. He seemed normal to his family, his people except for the occasional forcing people to do something they despised. And it wasn't just the men of the family instead, it was all. But mostly the men, unless the same sin were to be committed by the females. Obscure behaviors have been asked to follow starting exactly at midnight to the witch's hour be it hurting your loved one, your enemy, doing sinful things, allowing self to get manipulated and mostly, shortening their own life time in the human realm. It was all unexplainable. Why was he asking people to do things like this but most of all, why are they even listening to him?

It wasn't until they discovered that Dong Wook, for one, was never the one who returned home. On a second note, he, 'Dong Wook' mainly only targeted the men whose doings were similar to his that was fueled by the same sin that had him going. Which only remained undiscovered. The curse was unbeknownst to all still, Dong Wook himself remained undiscovered. Or proposed by the elders of the community, his body remained undiscovered while his spirit roamed restless among the people.

The pagan romanticists are, in most cases, ignorant of the “paganism” they praise—the redeemed paganism of Christianity depicted in the transfigured water of the True Well of Life. Wrestling with the Greek gods, however, leads us to see the hyper-anthropomorphization of the gods with one intention in mind—justification of sexual lusts and displays of power over the weak.

The oldest written account of the Greek deities is from Hesiod. His Theogony, literally “birth of the gods,” charts out the genealogies of the major and minor deities in two branches. The first set of gods come into existence without sex. The second set of gods come into existence with sex; often very graphic and violent sex and they continue to have violent sex after their birth.

As Hesiod continues to describe the birth and death of the gods and great monsters of antiquity, the chaining of Prometheus to his eternal torment is described. So too is Hades’ rape of Persephone. Battle is depicted left and right, and “a terrible din arose from their dreadful wrath, and the work of power was revealed”. Lust, sex, and war reign supreme in Hesiod’s telling of the birth of the gods. Moreover, it is from this brutality and carnality that Hesiod gives them praise—only those with enough cunning and ambition are worthy of having the praise of the muses.

That the gods birthed through sexual lust are themselves lustful was not missed by Christians of the pagan community. Though St. Augustine received the Romanized version of the Greek myths, he goes to great lengths and laborious pains—using the pagans’ own prophecies —to highlight the moral depravity of the gods in Confessions and City of God.

His sin, after all the years, was lust and the want to dominate.

'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

Oh, how lust was a dangerous feeling.

29/10 continued. 11:28PM

It's how you all circled around in the living room like any other day that was comical to you. Instead of reading out your own made up story, it so happened to be the Creepypastas Yuta screenshotted for what he wanted to try out and see for himself. It wasn't even his idea to read them out. Haechan and Jaemin's 'too curious for their own sake' selves were the ones who wanted to read it out loud. "How about we sit in the order of who's gonna read out what and when?" Yangyang suggested, standing up from his seat. "Yuta read out the topics and we'll pick randomly."

"No fun! Hold up," Haechan did some pretty exaggerated hand actions before getting up and heading to his room, well, Jaemin's room to do who knows what. "Okay? I'll get the candles!" Yangyang said, him getting out of his seat too, "And I'll go get the bible, jesus christ" and Jaemin was out of his seat too. You look at Jaemin in a funny manner, as though questioning him with your eyes if he's actually going to get a bible or not, "What? I don't want to die young, I'm too hot for that" he said, before following Haechan's steps to his bedroom, "Yikes, you aren't going to die dude"

"Okayy, I'm back, make way bitches" Haechan dictated to which he earned a few groans and a smack on the ankle from Yuta, "Jaemin! I can't find the candles!" "It's beside the Reese's cups! Second rack inside of the refrigerator!" Jaemin says while walking back up to your tiny circle with an empyre comic in his hand and a cross pendant dangling off of his neck, "That's a bible?" you question. "Shush, do not question the power of avengers and fantastic four." Jaemin replies, holding the comic up close to his chest. You all collectively dismiss it with a concerned look directed towards the male, "Are we not going to question the fact that Jaemin keeps his candles inside the fridge?"

"So here's what we're going to do, I've got these tiny papers which have numbers from 1 to 5,because we're five people and I've folded the paper into chits, once i toss it, we pick random sheets and the number you get is when your turn to read is, any objections?" Haechan explained, "Even if you have any, keep it to yourself because I don't care" he bites in again while juggling the folded sheets in a closed palm while the other supports his body by it being planted behind him. "Okay I'm back with the candles" Yangyang finally joins in on the circle, completing it, "You took that long to find one candle?" Yuta asks, "No i was eating the reese's cups" he replied, wiping his hand on your jean clad thighs earning him a loud whine of 'Eww that's disgusting man' and a little too far from soft smacks on his shoulder, "You piece of sh-" Jaemin starts, "Okay all, Focus!" Haechan cuts him off, ready to throw the bits onto the space between the five of you in front of the now lit candle (Thank you, Yuta), and so he tossed it a little high up from the ground, letting the paper fall of his palms and onto the floor while being cautious of not throwing it anywhere near the flame.

"Now let's arrange ourselves according to the numbers, who's number one?" Haechan asks, Yuta raises his hands while pointing at where he's sitting, "I'm not getting up, y'all arrange yourself so that the person going second is to my right and the last person would be to my left", you all look at him nonchalantly, "What?" with a shake of your head, you proceed calling out numbers, "Number two?" Haechan shoves Yangyang back to take his place beside Yuta, "bitch." Yangyang seats himself beside Haechan, followed by Jaemin and lastly, you.

"First, Yuta!" Jaemin slurs the elders name, receiving a death glare from his cousin. Nevertheless, Yuta cleared up his throat and switched his attention to his phone screen, "The first urban legend is from Japan, ironically." He states as a matter of fact, "It's called Aka Manto."

"Aka manto is an urban legend related to toilets—particularly those in elementary schools.-"

"Is that why you take a relatively long time inside of the bathroom? Are you, you know? Tickling pickles with Aka Mant-ow! Sorry!" Yangyang was wasted as he was tackled onto the floor by Yuta, while the rest of you cracked up, "Now let's get a little serious, come onnn!" Haechan whines.

"This phenomenon is known all over Japan, with countless variations on the same theme. It usually takes place in a specific stall in a specific bathroom in the school. Usually it is an older or seldom used bathroom, often in a stall with an older style squat toilet. Often the fourth stall is the cursed one, as the number four is associated with death." "I'm so glad our university has only two stalls," Jaemin chimes in, suddenly grasping the cross pendant.

"Most stories follow this general pattern: while at school late in the evening, a student suddenly finds him or herself in desperate need of a toilet. The closest restroom available is one that is normally avoided by the students; it is older and less well-kept, separated from the rest of the school, and is rumored to be haunted. But with no time to search for a different restroom, the student enters. He or she does their business, and when they have finished, they reach for the toilet paper only to find that there is none. Then they hear a strange voice" Yuta looks up from the phone screen, "“Do you want red paper? Or blue paper?”"

"None bitch, give me the classic white,"

With a roll of his eyes, Yuta continues, "If the student answers, Red paper, moments later, they're stabbed and sliced up violently that blood seeps out of them, painting the walls of the stall red and it soaks up into their body, making them appear red", "And if the student responds blue paper, then their blood is going to be sucked up dry, leaving them dead and blue-faced on the floor."

"But! If you try to outsmart Aka Manto, by replying to question with, i don't know, "Yellow paper" then too, dead is inevitable, you will be shoved onto the floor where the spirit is said hold your head down in the dirty toilet water until you drown and well, die" Yuta ends with a shrug of his shoulder, "Seems pretty bullshit to me" and you agree alongside, though, it could be a little creepy if the existing legend did turn out to be true. "Okay next!"

Yuta leans back a little more, pressing onto your side which you took as an invitation to lean on his shoulder. When you did so, all Yuta did was beam at you and wrap his arms around you to keep you close after handing the phone over to Haechan, "If you want me to start reading you have to give it up for me. Give me the grand welcome that i deserve" the lad said in a childish voice which again only earned him a few smacks and half hearted applauds. "So this one is apparently called, the one man hide and seek" though all narrations were being taken on a lighter note, the mood set in the room gave you enough space to picture the stories, added to that came the factor that Donghyuck knows exactly how to narrate what.

"The "One-Man Hide and Seek", also known as the "One-Man Tag," is a ritual for contacting the dead. The spirits, which are wandering restless on the Earth, are always looking for bodies to possess. In this ritual, you will summon such a spirit, by offering it a doll instead of a human body." He lowers his voice while focusing solely on the screen.

"The warnings say that if you have any psychic abilities, you may feel unwell or be prone to accidents during the ritual." He raises his eyebrows, looking at all four of you in a curious manner. The things you need for this game seems lowkey sketch"

"One stuffed doll. It must have limbs, Rice, enough to stuff the doll full. One needle, and one crimson thread. One pair of nail clippers. One sharp-edged tool, such as a knife, glass shard, or scissors. One cup of salt water. Natural salt would be best. A bathroom, with a bathtub and some form of counter. A hiding place, preferably a room purified by incense and ofuda. There must be a TV in there." Haechan's face contorts with each requirement for the game. Letting out a defeated sigh, he hands the phone over to Yangyang, "Of all the stories i could've narrated, i got chosen for this and for what? Just to contact stupid poltergeists. Just play a ouija board and go"

Giving Haechan a sympathetic pat on the back, he takes the device. Looking through the screen he cracks up a smile, "Alright, listen up closely. This is an Urban legend classic"

"The Slender Man-" a bunch of 'aahhs' of realization resonate through the room

"-is a supernatural creature that is described as appearing as a normal human being but he is described as being 8 feet tall and he has vectors or extra appendages that are described to be as sharp as swords. The creature is known to stalk humans and cause many disappearances. He is described as a shadow creature that has a missing face. The creature fits into many mythologies in legends from nations such as germany and celts which brings up the possibility that he could be real." Yangyang pauses to add in a little more life to his reading while all of your paid full concentration to him

"A man named victor Surge found this legend and made his own version of it which he called slender man. The slender man is not exactly evil according to mythology but victor Surge’s version shows him as an evil creature that stalks humans to kill. In mythology he was actually trying to save you from a painful death by taking you to the underworld early." he ends, placing the phone down in front of him, screen down. "Kills you to save you from a death and collectively shortens your lifespan? Seems legit to me" Jaemin chimes in while the rest of you chuckle whereas Haechan pouted at the device in front of his friend, "I should've gotten that story"

"My turn!"

"So, ahem-" Once the focus is all on him,Jaemin looks down onto the device containing his part of narration. "- This is an urban legend about a girl named Daruma who was a young Japanese woman that died in the bathroom, which upon entering to take a bath, it stumbled and her forehead ended up against the edge of the tube, destroying it the brain, at the same time that her eye embedded in the tube , leaving it in consequence, one-eyed key and later , dead by bleed out." "Oh god ouch" You hiss as though your forehead was the one that hit the edge, " Her appearance as described is apparently; black hair that is entangled, her clothes rotting and made shreds. She only has one eye. Her left eye is completely open and injected with blood." "That's gruesome," Yangyang adds, earning a nod from Jaemin who's eyes were still fixated on the screen. "And apparently there's a ritual that you can follow to summon her into your house for twenty four hours straight" At the silence, he continues. "I'll shorten it, so you have to begin it right before your bedtime, shed all your clothing and enter your bathroom, turn off all the lights and fill in your bathtub, climb into it while being seated facing faucet, close your eyes and start washing your hair while chanting "Daruma-san fell down" and keep chanting that until you're done washing your hair, and yeah don't open your eyes."

"If you did it right then you'll get this image of a japanese who'll slip and fall in front of you. Even if you hear a noise behind you, do not open your eyes, no matter what it takes, Ask out loud, 'why did you fall in the bathtub' and let that hang in the air. With your eyes still closed, get up and out of the tub and be careful not to slip and do not drain the tub. Go to your room, don't turn the lights on, shut the bathroom door closed and sleep. Wake up the next day and carry on with your day and you'll apparently feel her presence alongside you all day. She'll constantly try getting close to you, when she does, scream 'Tomare!',"

"That means stop," Yuta adds to which you all hum in understanding.

"To end the game, capture her gaze from over your shoulder and say 'Kitta' which means 'I cut you loose' while swinging your arm in a chopping motion. If you followed the procedures then you'll be rewarded but if not then, run. That's all it says here" He stops, looking a little shaken at how he created an image of it all in his mind. "They didn't say how to get rid of her if you fail following the procedure?" you ask

"No." Jaemin shrugs it off

"Alright boys, my turn"

30th October, Friday, 10:53PM

It's probably how you read out your part of story telling, or it was how he felt the game was a little too unrealistic that had Yuta hooked onto the urban legend.

Yuta found himself at his dorm doing a little more research on the midnight ritual. A backpack already consisting of all the elements required for the game, 'could it really be played just by one person?'. Whatever it was, he really wanted to do the game. He wanted someone to accompany him, of course. But knowing his friend group, not many would be ready to play it alongside. Doyoung was probably busy preparing his resumes for his job interviews. Johnny's all the way back in Chicago for a little family time. Ten was a little too far from your town so he'd feel bad calling him all the way over just to perform a probably demonic ritual. Donghyuck and Jaemin are out of the question, they'd obviously say no. Yangyang has a company party to attend as the heir. And you had to study for your test on Monday so he didn't really feel like disturbing you though, he did inform you that he was going out to have some fun and that you could join him anytime. Closing his laptop with a sigh, he gets up and walks over to where his bag was sprawled across the floor, picks it up and makes his way out of the studio apartment like dormitory after grabbing his car keys.

Not like he believed it was real, it's incase if the legend turns out to be even the slightest of reality, he wasn't going to get his dormitory haunted, instead opting to perform it at the house he grew up in, his childhood house. That was left abandoned ever since they moved out months before his younger brother was born after his father had an episode still unknown to him inside the place. It was convenient enough to perform the ritual in and no one lives there anymore, and it was just a few minutes from where his house was anyways.

Reaching the place and swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way into the surprisingly still intact house. Not much time to waste, looking around, Yuta slowly made his way up the wooden stairs, the wood creaking with each step he took to prove the existence of this house dated long back. The guest room shut lock from lack of human souls even when they used to live there. The paintings still hung off of a single screw, nostalgia hitting him straight as he recalled the one time he was playing catch with a neighbor's kid and ended up breaking the glass frame. The wallpaper's adhesive seemingly had gotten weaker from how they had started coming out from nooks and crannies of the walls. The place, without doubt, looked a little creepy but nonetheless felt homely.

Switching on all switches from the main controller that was in the control room right by the end of the hallway, the entire darkness was replaced with light as the bulbs shockingly still seemed to function. The warm white colour of the lights took Yuta all the way back to his growing up years, missing all the fun he'd had there and all the memories he'd created. He, though grew up mostly by himself from how busy his parents were on the weekdays and sometimes the weekends, missed them more now that they live far off in Japan with his mother's family. Especially now that he was in the place they spent the most time together in. Shaking his head, he had no trouble navigating his way to his childhood room. Where he set the bag down.

He reached out to his back pocket to get out his phone, switching it on as the screen illuminated, 11:28PM, the screen read. To kill the time, Yuta set up all the items required in place to proceed the ritual smoothly. He pulled his laptop out of the backpack once he was all set to maybe watch something on the internet. It being other peoples attempt at the ritual he was about to perform.

11:55PM.

Yuta inhaled, having only a few more minutes until he had to proceed. He recalled your words,

"Alright boys, my turn" You snatch the phone out of Jaemin's hand who seemed really immersed in finding out more about the legend he just read out about, earning a pout from him. "I was reading" he let out in a whiny tone immediately going stoic after receiving a 'do i care' look from your end. "Okay, so the story I'm going to read out is called the midnight man, or the midnight game" You scroll back and forth through the pages the oldest of the group screenshotted. "From what he's gathered, there's not much backstory, but apparently it's a ritual or mostly a punishment that the pagan's use to punish the betrayer of the group who failed to stay loyal to their lords or the group. One of the people of the religion will summon the midnight man to an abandoned house where they lock up the said betrayer who'll then be put through god knows what by the midnight stranger," You stop to look up from the screen to look at each of your friends before letting out a sigh.

"My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you state, "But what if, it's the midnight man that they preach? You know, like, they could be praying the midnight man" Haechan adds in a point which seemed to make sense, "That's possible too"

"Why would someone preach an evil entity? That's so sketch" Jaemin asks perplexed. "They did a lot of sketchy things back in the days, Jaem. I wouldn't question it," Yuta chirps. "Is there any other backstory given about the midnight man?" Yangyang finally speaks up, "Well not really, but when i was taking screenshots of this it apparently started with a curse on someone whose identity is unknown to most. There was no such thing as the midnight game or ritual until the said bewitched man came back into town. I only know up to there, but there are high chances that he's probably the origin of the ritual." Yuta explains. "Why does Y/n get the best always, that's so unfair" Haechan's dramatic self whines while leaning onto Yangyang who rolled his eyes but nonetheless threw his hands around the latter's shoulder, "Anyways, the procedure for the ritual is given here."

"You need one candle, a lighter or a match box or anything that ignites fire, a piece of paper, something to write with, a sharp object, it could be a pin, it just needs to be something sharp enough to draw blood, a wooden door, and salt for protection-" You read out, "Now why the fuck would they need blood," Jaemin asks, shaken up. "That's for them to know and us to find out"

"Here's how the invitation for the midnight man goes. Begin prior to midnight,"

Yuta stood up from his bed, and walked up to the backpack on the floor, picking out the papers he'd brought along and took out a blunt pencil.

"Write your full name- first, middle, and last- on the piece of paper with your writing implement." He wrote syllable by syllable, Nakamoto Yuta. "Prick your finger with the pin and squeeze until a drop of blood appears. Dot the blood on the paper and allow it to soak in. Turn off every light in your home." He took out the small safety pin he brought along from his jean pocket, pressing his fingers hard and pricked into the skin as hard as he could, keeping in mind to not draw too much blood. Yuta let the droplet fall right in the space between his last name and first.

"Place the paper with your name and blood on it in front of the closed wooden door. Light the candle using the matches or lighter and place it on top of the paper. If you are using a taper, make sure it is placed in a candle holder." He walks up to the door and places down the paper with his name and blood on it, with the half melted scented candle he brought along. Yuta took out his phone once again, 11:59. "Knock on the door 22 times. The final knock must occur precisely when the clock chimes 12am. Open the door; then blow out the candle and close the door. Relight your candle immediately." He starts to knock on the door, drumming on the dusty wood, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

He checks the time once again, 12:00AM.

He leans down to pick the glass jar containing the candle, relighting it,

"I welcome you."

Taeyong loved the tiny creatures in the human realm. They were so naive and so, stupid but weirdly smart at the same time that made playing with them ten times more interesting. The callings from them, or the way they say it in the human realm, summoning the spirit was the only way he could gain access to enter the place. Summoning wasn't even necessary. Saying his name out was more than enough for him to go up to you. Midnight man, midnight stranger, midnight visitor, pagan's god, What not had the human's named him.

The only one besides his ancestor of said curse that enjoyed the power of punishing people was Taeyong himself. The youngest of the bloodline and the freshest of pagan's spirit, he loved the power he had. Sure he had no access to love, instead besides lust and range he felt nothing, maybe amusement too, but none other than that and he seemed perfectly fine with that. Human's always seeked lust more than love either way so he found no problem in being void of feeling a vulnerable emotion. Instead, he found love pathetic. Watching human's from where he lived, he'd seen all from men and women seeking love by going to heights of trouble only to waste away your remaining life with one partner. Leeching off of pleasure at times when you had a significant other. He always got a hearty laugh from all of that. According to him, if you want someone, get them. Instead of tailing them and trying to be a goody two shoes, just make them yours in a way that's inevitable for them to fall for you. Control how they feel. Easier said than done since he was the only one with the ability to do so, 'how fucking pitiful'.

So when he saw you and your small group of friends discussing about him, laughing at all the assumptions you made along the way, he wanted each of you to himself. "My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed to the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you're smart and that was intriguing to him. He liked the way you thought of things and the male beside you too, you both seemed to take tales of him as a grain of salt and that, besides angering him, made him feel the want to prove himself to you. Taeyong found the other three cute, seemingly scared of him just the way he liked it.

His ancestor's who held the same power as him, the curse actually, came to be known as said lord because of their power of manipulation and to inject in their worst nightmare into their minds that had the people divide themselves into groups. One that believed the power they had was for the good and considered them to be their god, their savior. And the other being the one's scared of their power and the fear that the same faith would bestow upon them that had them pray for forgiveness for sins they never committed. So your friend had the point a little, but it was inaccurate. They believed him. Believed Taeyong and feared his power. He loved people bowing down in front of him, eyes trembling and body shivering. It gave him a sense of dictatorship. And he had set his mind to have both of you non-believers fear him.

Having been brought up with little to no love, Taeyong followed down the same path as his great grandfather. Not having enough time to feel the vulnerable emotion, he chose to go down the path of pleasure and power play. His powers though, seemingly stronger than the past generations, probably due to the fact that he was young, ruthless and free of care. He could make himself appear physically in the human realm in any shape and form, though he always preferred to go in his original, but less scarier form. His visuals were out of the world. He didn't have to scare people to make them obey, instead all he had to do was pretend to be there and just be himself and that only made humans seem even pathetic to him.

"Relight your candle immediately"

12:01PM, The main event.

"Keeping your candle in hand and your salt and matches or lighter close by, begin to move about your home. Should your candle go out, you must relight it within the next ten seconds. If you are successful, continue moving about your home. Do not stop moving until 3:33 am. If you are unsuccessful in relighting the candle, immediately surround yourself with a circle of salt. Remain inside the circle until 3:33 am. At 3:33 am, it is safe to stop moving or to step outside your circle of salt. You may also turn on the lights. The game Is Over."* You conclude. Hissing slightly at the sudden pain by your shoulder that was exposed from the minimalistic clothing you'd adorned, the stranger looking over it all smirked to himself. 'Got it'

Yuta opened the door again, mindful to keep his phone back in his jean pocket along with the lighter and of course, the salt be brought along. Starting from the end of the hallway, nothing seemed to change except now, the eerie silence was starting to bother him, 'Just 3 hours to go,'. He didn't miss a single corner, walking room to room, corner to corner, mindful to stay inside all the way. The temperature of certain rooms seemingly lesser than others. A cold pocket.

"There are few warnings too," you swipe the image to go to the next one, "At 3:33 am, the Midnight Man will leave your home. After he has left, you may safely end the game. Do NOT turn on any lights during the game. Do NOT use a flashlight during the game. Do NOT go to sleep during the game. Do NOT use a lighter instead of a candle during the game." Check. He had a lighter on him just to relight the candle anyways.

Taeyong, following the guy seemed to be quite impressed by his bravery. Not even the slightest of shaken up as he proceeded to walk about the villa. That's good, no slip ups and he seemed too good to mess anything up either ways, and that bored the entity. Where's the fun if he just succeeded?

To avoid the candle from going off at the sudden flickering, Yuta covered it up the best he could with his hands and checked around whether any windows were left open. Darkness engulfed the surrounding all of a sudden, the lad being taken aback, 10 seconds. He rushed to take out his lighter, 9, pressing the button repeatedly to ignite the flame only to get a small blue flame instead, huh? 8, running back full speed happy that he was in the premises of where his backpack is, he pulled the spare lighter, a brand new one out of the side pocket, 7, repeating the same process of flicking the button over and over, 6 until a bright orange flame engulfed the dark room, 5, he immediately grabbed his candle from besides the bag, 4 reaching in close by the wick, burning himself slightly in 3-, the process. Yuta heaves out a sigh of relief, while the spirit laughs at the frantic boy. 'He's cute.'

For a breaker, he took out his phone, looking at the time that seemed to pass by quickly throughout the ritual, 2:47 AM. A little more while to go until he'd finally get it over with. "Do not attempt to provoke the Midnight Man during the game." You ended for the nth time that night, "Which idiot would-" Yangyang asks "Haechan-" Jaemin pretends to cough while blurting out his best friends name, the mentioned feigning offence while tilting his head to the side, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. "Seems like that's pretty much it." you shrug while the older guy beside you leaning back on both of his hands, "I kinda wanna try that out" Yuta raised his eyebrows at you. "Halloween night? We all go together" you chirp in, both of you whipping your heads to look at the three perplexed boys. "Uh, I have to water my fish on halloween? She'd get pretty thirsty". Jaemin's eyes wandered about, coming up with an excuse, "And I gotta walk my rock yo, physical fitness." Haechan adds, "Can I bring my fish along? She could use some exercising".

"Come on guys, it won't be that bad, we'll stick in a group?" You pleaded, trying your best to muster up the cutest puppy eyes. "I'm down" Yangyang shrugs. You do a tiny seal clap, looking expectedly at the other two, Yangyang and Yuta doing the same. "We stick together?" Haechan asks, to which the three of you nod your head,

"Alright then we're down too"

[3:04AM 30th, October. ]

A few more minutes left until he'd succeed, Yuta was starting to grow tired of constantly roaming. He'd usually not the one to wear out that quickly, but for a reason unknown to him, he felt utterly sleepy, tired, hungry and just wanted to lie down. He decided to take a small break, the candle still light, dangerously flickering but yet still intact. Yuta sat by the foot of the stairs as Taeyong looked at him with the same cocky smirk on his face, contemplating whether to pop out or not. 'Maybe let's make it subtle? '

Taking up the form of a black humanoid figure, Taeyong makes his way towards Yuta whose eyes seem to be dropping low with each passing second. Upon hearing the sounds of footsteps Yuta looks up, a hand on his forehead from the sudden throbbing headache. Letting out a loud yell at the figure in front of him that disappeared almost immediately, he rushed to grab his lighter again. The sudden temperature drop made him shudder. Taking out the new lighter, he pressed the button again and again as the time limit started to exhaust, 6, at a successful fire, he reached for his candle, only for the flame to go off when it neared the candle wick. "what the fuck.." 5, "come on.." he stated in a rushed voice, sure that he just saw whatever he saw once again. Finally flicking the button one last time, he succeeded in lighting the candle.

Contrary to popular belief, the midnight man didn't always radiate death. Sometimes he just messes around with the humans because the underworld could get a little boring. And as the curse states death and wrath is only to be faced by those who sinned and the boy playing right now seemed to be of no threat. All Taeyong wanted to do was get the guy to believe in his existence. Skeptics were like an insult to him. So if he had to prove himself and his existence on his own, then so be it. He gets some pretty good experience out of it anyways.

Yuta stood up immediately, remembering the warning's you'd stated, "Do not stop moving until 3:33am", walking back up the stairs, he took out his phone to check the time, 3:29am. Almost.

The same sounds of footsteps resonated from behind him, Yuta took an immediate U-turn. Going back down the stairs and roaming the empty, dark hallways, making sure to enter each and every room, keeping a mental note to thank his parents for having a slightly confusing infrastructure. The wax was almost completely out in the glass jar, but he had to hang in there for a little longer than 2 more minutes when he felt something brush his shoulder, much similar to how a friend would drape their hands over his/her friends' shoulder. He could've brushed it off as anything if it weren't for the sharp pain he felt right after the feeling of someone touching him. He's getting the proof he wants. Almost as if someone pulled his hoodie, Yuta stumbled back, letting out a shaky scream, tripping on his own foot, landing butt down onto the floor, catching a glimpse of the same humanoid figure he'd been seeing. He needs to get out of there.

Stumbling back onto his feet, Yuta bolted it upstairs, grabbing his phone once again to check the time, 3:32am. Reaching his room, he set the candle down right beside him, vary of the windows and doors, starting to back his backpack, the sounds of rushed footsteps running start to where he is ringing through his ears, hands shakingly packing his bag. Keeping the candle closeby, contemplating whether to draw a salt circle or not since there was only less than half a minute left when the same humanoid figure neared him with fast footsteps, reaching by the door frame with a loud agonizing scream only to disappear immediately.

Not realising the stress of tears flowing and the tresses sticking to his forehead, Yuta looked at the door frame in a perplexed yet confused manner. What the fuck was that.

Taking out his phone once again while grabbing his backpack, laptop and the car keys in the other hand, 3:34 am. He'd made it through. After reaching the front door, not even bothering to close it, he rushed to his car, starting it before pulling up your contacts, seeing the messages he'd never sent you.

Yuta san 1:39am: The boys said they won't make it tomorrow, it's gonna be just you and i

Y/nleE 1:43am: Why not?

Yuta san 1:45am: Dk, they said they aren't interested. So come near xxxx tomorrow at 11:30. I'll meet you there.

Y/nleE 1:48am: Coolsies.

Yuta san 3:38am: Y/n don't come here, gather the boys and meet me by Haechan's dorm tomorrow. The game's no fucking joke.

And with that he started driving away quickly to his dormitory, not once looking back at the house to see a human. Or a human like figure standing there, A bright red hair standing out due to his blood drained looking pale skin. A smirk on his face

Message not delivered.

31st October, 22:37PM, 2020.

Today was a weird day,

Having all plan's set two days before, you'd make sure to keep yourself ready for whatever you and your friend group were supposed to do today. You finished up all your assignments earlier that day to keep yourself free from afternoon and on.

The weird part was that, no matter how much you kept your phone for charge, each time you tried calling one of the guys to ask for the sudden bailing out on plan, which is a shocker because they've never done that, your phone kept switching off. You could've gone all the way to their apartment, well, dorm, but you decided to wait until later to do so. Maybe a few minutes before leaving to the place Yuta texted you so that they'd have no choice but to come along. Since your last time texting with Yuta, you hadn't heard from him. Granted, he did text you quite late at night saying he's going to do god knows what and to tell you of the sudden plan change, but you hadn't heard from him after, that being weird since he literally lives a floor below yours, he could've come any moment but nope. You kept a mental note to tell him off later.

You took out your phone once again to check if they'd sent any messages or missed calls only to have an empty chat box, other than that of your other friends that is. Added on top of that came the constant pricking feeling on your shoulder blades from the last day you hung out with the boys. The pain would appear randomly and it would be hurtful enough to draw blood, which is weird considering the fact that you kept yourself away from all sharp objects and had a full sleeve covering the area.

One stone, two birds. Taeyong's motto.

After having interfered with your phone, your friends, trying to keep you away from them until you'd go through the same as your other skeptic partner, Taeyong made sure that Yuta would be sick enough after returning home to keep him from even getting up from his bed. Temporary paralysis. Your other friends, of course they tried reaching out to you, only for him to cut the service to keep you away from them for a while. They got easily distracted from you ignoring their texts as they were focused on reaching out to Yuta.

Unknown: Hey Y/n, I'm Yuta's friend. He told me you aren't replying to his texts so asked me to do so.

Y/n: Who's this?

Unknown: Oh! I'm Taeyong! A close friend of well, your friend XD.

Y/n: Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I'm Y/n but it seems like you already know that.

Unknown: Yeah :). Yuta's on his way here and told me that you'd be joining us? Are you nearby?

Y/n: He left? No, actually, I'm just leaving my place. I guess I'll meet you there?

Taeyong: Meet ya :)

[23:22PM, 31st October, 2020 continued. ]

Hailing a cab to the address Yuta had sent you with his friends, Taeyong's number saved on your phone in case the later won't pick up, you left your place. Still feeling a little eerie from how Yuta just decided to leave you behind when he could've just offered to go together, which is pure Yuta style. He probably wasn't in the best of moods but he could've at least texted you letting you know of his departure from the apartment building.

The journey to the given address didn't take that long surprisingly. A little towards the outskirts of the town in a much aloof part but nonetheless, doable. It's not like you'd be alone there any ways. Paying for your fare, you took your purse, brushed your fingers through your hair to tame it a little from the ride, and turned towards the building, jumping slightly at the bright haired guy sitting by the front porch. Adorning the simplest of fit, a black knee slit jeans, with a graphic tee and a black leather jacket with a chain or two. He, in no doubts, was ethereal. His pale skin stood out the most in the street light if you could call it that and his lips seemed a little drained of blood, eyes hollow yet captivating when he looked up from the dirt below him to you who still stood yards away. Smiling, he got up, making his way towards after brushing off the invisible lint from his jeans, "Hey" he offered you his hands for you to shake upon reaching you. "Hey..? Taeyong, right?"

Wanting so badly to smirk, he only looked down with a silent snicker, looking up immediately to not look suspicious, "Yeah, Y/n..?" you nod in response, shuddering from the coldness of his skin, "Have you been out for too long? You're freezing," you exclaim, looking at him with a guilty expression and taking a mental note to hit Yuta for not arriving earlier. "Oh no, i just reached a minute or two prior to your arrival." you nod in understanding, withdrawing your hands from his hold, "By the way, Yuta called me a few minutes ago, telling me that he wouldn't make it and to just carry on" Taeyong said, looking at you with his eyebrows raised at your confused, innocent expression, his humane form threatening to change into his original form. "What? Why? It's like,-" you look down at your wrist watch, "11:50! And he's bailing out now?", smiling at you in fake sympathy, he replied, "he said he had other things to take care of," "But you said he'd left the place and was on his way here?" you ask, hands on either sides of your hip, "Last minute plan changes" Taeyong shrugs, "Anyways, let's get inside?"

He pointed towards the front door with both his hands, gesturing you to go forward first. And so you do. You offer him a smile before turning your back towards him and making your way towards the old house, the door seemingly open. Climbing up the stairs with caution, humming at the sound of dried leaves crunching up below your feet with each footstep. Taeyong stood behind where you two had introduced yourselves for a few minutes, a few more minutes. "Taeyong? Are you not coming?" you turn around slightly, looking over your shoulder at lad standing still, "Yeah, I'm coming" he replied soullessly, still standing his group until he saw you open the door ajar and then took his first step forward. Not bothering to go too quick.

The insides were simple, very very simple yet magnificent. The flooring seemed to be that of wooden finishing that creaked with each step you took, implying that of how old the infrastructure must be. You look around in awe, clutching at the sling bag that you carried along. You go corner to corner, not bothering to look behind to see if the friendly stranger was hot on your trail, instead seemingly being captivated by the olden time-ish wallpapers and paintings and antique pieces that the wall adorned. Taeyong on the other hand was just growing restless, 4 more minutes until he could play his next victim, he was growing frantic. He did follow you inside, instead opting to walk the opposite direction as you, towards where he'd hidden the paper with your crimson blood and name written on it, contemplating whether to just tear it and carry on proving his existence to the female in the room. 3 more minutes, he bit into his lips, "Taeyong? Look, i found something!" He heard you scream.

Puffing out a breath of frustration, Taeyong replied "Coming!" and he walked out of the room, hands in his pocket towards where you stood by the bottom of the stairs, looking at the lighter in your hand that seemed relatively unused. "I found lighter down here" you look at him with a tiny pout evident on your lips, looking back and forth between the candle and the guy, puzzled. "It must be some thugs who came here to smoke or something" He shrugged it off, taking the lighter out of your hand. It must be you over analyzing things but without a single light turned on in the villa with only your flashlight acting as a source of light, but Taeyong looked even more lifeless than before. Eyes dark ebony and dangerous, somehow intimidating, lips adorning a bright shade of red in contrast to how you saw it the first time, and his aura had seemingly darkened. 2 more minutes. You shake your head and walk up the stairs and towards a room which has it's door wide open. Choosing to lay out your things there, you stretch out a few stiff limbs, "So, me and the boys were planning on doing the midnight game, you know. One of those stupid creepy pastas? I can't believe all of them bailed out on me last minute," you speak particularly to no one in the room, assuming that Taeyong was listening to you, whose ears only perked up at the words midnight and stupid. Midnight. 00:00Am. The devil smirked to himself. Midnight, at last.

"I mean, Yangyang, Jaemin and Haechan came off as no shock to me- they're the other friend's by the way, but Yuta, it's weird for him to at least not let me know." You keep going, scrolling through your phone screen, only for it to load suddenly, No internet access. Sighing, you pull out offline downloads, "Did he tell you anything else? Like if he's feeling unwell or something?" you ask, letting the question float in the air, waiting for a reply. Getting known even after the passing of a few seconds, a minute too maybe, "Taeyong?" you stand up from the bed, well, the bed frame and make your way outside, "Tae?" you look left and right, searching for any moving soul when you feel your phone vibrate in your hands, and the sound of notification resonates through the eerie silence. You look down at the device in your hand, one new message from Yuta san and an immediate black out of the screen. Impossible.

You remembered full well charging your phone to a hundred percent before leaving your dorm. Hell, you even kept it on airplane mode your whole cab ride. Shrugging it off, you keep your phone beside your bag and then proceed to go out to look for your new friend? acquaintance? You didn't even know how to classify him as yet. "Tae, if you're trying to scare me, I'll give you heads up, it doesn't work on me." you chuckle, walking to the room beside the one you were previously lounging in. "It's past midnight and we both seem too uninterested to try out whatever we were supposed to anyways, how about we just head out?" you start, looking down at your wrist watch which displayed 00:09 on the screen in neon green. "I mean, it was stupid enough that my friends and i even decided to try it out knowing it's some made up shit to scare some seven olds, probably" you continue, feeling as though you're talking to the walls at the lack of response. "Taeyong, come on. I'm growing bored."

"Tae-" "You know, the way you logicised made it seem like you're smart enough. It was impressive," you hear his voice, a little too hoarse and plain for your liking, he continued before you could muster up a reply, "But seems like you aren't all that smart after all, seeing how you believed a total stranger and are even ready to spend time with him." you look around the place, only hearing his voice but his figure to be nowhere near you, "Taeyong, what are you talking about?" you head out of the room you currently stood in, jogging to catch his voice.

"It was a little angering you know? The way you spoke about me and my followers, it was disrespectful. And I could've taken you then and there, but what to do. You seemed too cute to take your soul without a small game? Is that what you humans call it?" You feel breathing fanning the nape of your neck and a cold air following it right after, making you turn back, "Your friend got his share of play" you whip your head forward, finally seeing the male in front of you, standing by the door frame of a connective hallway, you swore you felt his presence behind you though. His infamous smirk still adorning his features. Figure a little more towering and intimidating. If you thought he couldn't have seemed more lifeless a few minutes ago, then his appearance now only seemed to prove you wrong. "So it's only fair if you got your part of the play too, right?"

"Taeyong, you're only making your existence weird for me, let's go if you're done." He only tilted his head in amusement, "Oh it's only about to get weirder, darling" You turn back to face a blood red shot eyed male, well, Taeyong, eliciting a gasp from you, you look over your shoulder to see the place where Taeyong stood a blink of eye ago. "How..did-" His chest visibly vibrated from the hearty laugh he let out, "How did I do that?," you step back as his voice dropped even lower, only for you to bump your back into something rigid, something cold, making you let out a yelp as Taeyong seemed to stand still in front of you, "I can do a whole lot of things," you feared turning back, the insides of your stomach hurdling around as whatever was behind you reached their arms up and held you still in a vice grip. "Y/n!" you hear a voice scream from downstairs, "Y/n! Come out! We need to get out of here!" you recognize the voice as that of your friends, Yuta's.

You squirm hard to loosen the person's grip on your shoulder. Once succeeding, you bolt down the stairs, skipping a few steps, tripping now and then but nevertheless making it down without landing face first as you hear Taeyong's laugh thunder throughout the place. You take a turn to reach the front door, where Yuta stood in all his glory. You immediately run into his embrace, ignoring how his body seemed just as cold as the one you felt from whatever Taeyong was, "Y-yuta, he's sick, let's go, we need to go!" you try pulling Yuta's body a little closer to the exit, only for him to stand his ground, wrapping his hands around you even tighter as he caressed your hair, "Oh, Y/n.." your body goes stiff as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, that sounded nothing like your best friend, "Yuta..?"

You try pulling your head away from the nape of his neck to look at him, "No darling, it's 'stupid made up shit''," his body vibrated once again from the laughing against yours, as you feel yourself growing scared each passing second. You try mustering up all your strength to bring it to his sides and push him away when you feel a plush yet cold muscle press against your neck, only for it to go futile. "Still made up for you?" you feel a sharp pang of pain flow through your nerves, result of him biting the skin in a manner far too away from soft, "Taeyon-g- lord--midnight man, whatever you are.. I'm --sorry" you say in a hushed voice, scared that if you voiced out a little louder, he'd pounce at you. You feel him nibble at the soft skin, making you whimper, "Oh no, darling, do not apologize. Your doings really intoxicated me. Kept me entertained for a while."

"But now, it's angering me to know a feeble creature as you kept poking fun at my people. At me. And I want no more than to turn you into something belonging to me. Who'd worship me the way 'my people' do." He whispered against the area, lifting his head up and leaning down, making sure not to let go of his grip on you, "oh no, pretty girls aren't supposed to cry. Tsk tsk, what is this, Y/n" His eyes bore holes onto the crown of your head. "Look at me." he acted on making you look at him faster than you could, "Could you beg for forgiveness? Give me a piece of yourself?" he inched closer to your face, a small snarl escaping his throat at your scared and trembling figure, "Or you could just be my queen and come below with me, and you'd not have to cut down your lifespan"

"Are you turned on by all of this, Y/n? Or is it out of fear?" you let out a shaky breath as the tip of his nose touched yours, "Because i can smell you from here and oh," he let out what sounded like an animalistic growl, "Is it delicious.". "Taeyong, please let me go.. I'm sorry. I really am, just please don't hurt me,-" you let out a whine of pain when you feel his other hand knot his fingers in your locks and pull it back with much aggression, immediately planting his lips onto your trembling once, bearing his fang like teeth into plush flesh to draw out blood, earning a loud high pitched scream from your end as you try your best to push him away, futile once again. His hands tighten their grip at the waist while his other hand pulled your head further back, latching onto the firm skin of your neck, treating it with the same aggression, puncturing through the skin with his teeth as your hands go limp beside your body, nevertheless, letting out a whimper from the harsh treatment, which, in all your defense couldn't be help since you still are a human with all emotion any human would feel, that including lust. You feel his cold lips curve into a smirk against where blood flowed out, lapping it up with his tongue as you feel your vision blacken the more as time went by.

"Oh darling you're no different than me.."

4th November, 19:48Pm, 2020.

"She's awake!!" you blink multiple times to get accustomed to the blaring lights in the room, a comfortable white filling your eyesight. You move your head towards the side to find all your friends sprawled out on each side. A drip connected to your hands making you squint in confusion, "Can you hear us, Y/n?" you feel your shoulders being shaken as jolt, "Hey? Yeah i can hear you, why won't i be able to?" you ask, confusion still laced in your voice, "Because you hadn't responded to us the last time we called you. And because you've been laying dead the past few days" Jaemin spoke up first, earning a smack from his elder brother

"Why didn't you stop when we screamed your name the other day, Y/n? You literally weren't breathing the day we found you" Yangyang inquired and stated, "And why did you leave us all on seen??" Haechan added, "Most of all, where were you even??" Yuta spoke. You hiss at all the questions being thrown at you as you try sitting up by the inclined hospital bed, "Screamed? Didn't respond? I left you on seen? That's highly impossible and where was i??" you stare blankly at the plain wall in front of you, trying to remember any such episode. The more you strained your head, the more clueless you grew. Your throat starts to grow dry so you turn your neck to check if there are any water bottles nearby, only for a sharp pain to flow through your nerves at a particular spot in your throat. You yelp at the sudden pain, "I'll get the doctor," Haechan rushed outside, when you reached out to touch your neck, feeling it with the tips of your finger, feeling in the swollen skin, the dried up blood when it all hit you. Your eyes grow wide as you start shaking, for it to be first noticed by Yuta, "Yuta, that house! The game, it's all real! I saw hi-him, his name! I swear he's real!" growing concerned at your sudden frenzy behavior, Yuta kneeled down beside your bed, holding your non-injected hand giving it a comforting behavior.

"Calm down, angel. Tell me point by point," he encouraged you to take in a long breath, as Haechan rushed in along with the doctor whose face was half covered with a doctor's mask, "Doctor, he-he's probably out for me, you need to get me far away from here! Please" you beg with your eyes stinging with all the tears, "No one's going to get you from here, Ms. Y/n, you're safe here" You pause your frantic actions for a while. That voice sounded a little too familiar for your liking, making you think you're over analyzing everything again. The doctor gestured to your friends to leave you up to him to have a doctor to patient talk. All of your friends nodded in understanding, giving you one last reassuring smile before collectively leaving the room.

The doctor, once after making sure that everyone left, removed his mask to reveal the oh so familiar smirk and the hair protector, rustling the same, familiar bright red hair with the same familiar pale fingers of his. Your eyes widen, mouth falls wide ajar

"Oh wait, there's one last warning, Do not assume that the Midnight Man has left your home for good at the conclusion of the game. I'm for real done now" You laugh at your friend who snatched the phone away from you,

"Pleasure to meet you again, darling"

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

Text

Anonymous asked: I really enjoy your erudite and literary posts about James Bond in your blog very much. Your most recent post about Connery as best cinematic Bond and Dalton as the best literary Bond was brilliant. Although the PC brigade have been inching towards making Bond a woman or even non-white, Ian Fleming’s legacy of a suave but cold hearted English gentleman spy hasn’t been completely trashed. As someone familiar with Fleming literary lore can you also tell me where was James Bond educated? Was it Oxford or Cambridge? I was having a discussion over Zoom with friends and the Oxonians like myself thought it was Oxford because in Casino Royale with Daniel Craig it’s made very plain it was Oxford. Your thoughts?

I appreciate your kind words about my posts on James Bond and his creator Ian Fleming. It’s very hard to ignore the cinematic James Bond because he is very much an icon of our modern culture that needs no translation to transcend across cultures. Alongside Sherlock Holmes, another British literary and cinematic export, the name alone speak for itself.

James Bond appeals to both genders very well.

For the men, Bond dresses well and lives in a care free way. He is both ferociously intelligent and resourceful to get out of any tight corner. He drives incredible cars (from the incredibly stylish Aston Martin DB5 to the incredibly awful AMC Hornet) and uses awesome technology (he is the archetypal boy with toys). He's not afraid to get down in the dirt to fight or engage in lethal gun-play and spectacular car chases. He sleeps with beautiful women, regardless how strong and independent they are (or even lesbian if we’re being honest about Pussy Galore).

For us ladies, while he's not averse to action, he's also a cultured gentleman with suave and sophisticated manners. He's also a generally pretty good looking guy. In many ways, he's a conventional male ideal. So while his conventional good looks and manners aren't for everyone, they hit right the sweet spot of what women like. For everyone, he's a spy! Not at a grey real world nondescript spy, but a cool spy fighting larger than life bad guys whose bland sartorial choices scream mad super villain. It's a very black and white world that James Bond lives in. These bad guys truly are villainous in the desire to re-order humanity, and we need a debonair British MI6 agent to save us from these mad men who want to harm us by laying waste to a bonkers Armageddon.

When all is said and done I think that what makes James Bond so iconic across gender and generations is what Raymond Chandler wrote back in 1959, “every man wants to be James Bond and every woman wants to be with him”.

That sounds about right. Men want to be him, women want to be with him.

I know my first introduction to James Bond was through my grandfather on my Anglo-Scots father’s side who was a dashing gentleman in his day with a long rumoured hush hush work for Her Majesty’s government firmly shoved under the carpet to avoid further discussion that he - being self-effacing and humble - would find embarrassing that would paint him in any heroic light. Years later he had bought his Bahamas beach pile in Harbour Island out in the Caribbean for the family to rest up from cold winters in Britain. Amongst his immense stack of books dotted around the place were (and still are) first editions of Flemings novels which a few were signed by the author as he on occasion met Ian Fleming when he would sail over to Jamaica (they were also OEs which helped). We were not allowed to touch these but instead picked up the dog earred paperbacks that still retained their 60s musty smell.

On my teen sojourns there I would spend time along with my siblings just reading anything we could find to take to the beach or lounge around in a hammock or a chaise longue. That’s how I came to read the Fleming books - really out of necessity to avoid boredom on a beach (which isn’t really my thing as I prefer the rugged outdoors). But I was pleasantly surprised how well written the books were and I actually enjoyed the stories; it was a refreshing change from the more heavy literary tomes I was trying hard to wade through. As for the Bond films, I watched them on film nights at boarding school; I remember having a school girl crush on Connery, Dalton, and Brosnan.

There are many reasons for the successful longevity of James Bond in popular culture and literature but perhaps one of the most pertinent to our discussion is that James Bond is actually a blank slate and therefore malleable as a character and so he can capture the current zeitgeist in time.

This ability of the film to adapt to different generations while remaining relevant is an important factor for its longevity. For example, the early James Bond films were unashamedly sexist with characters using women as objects and discarding them. In the most recent James Bond films, certainly starting with Timothy Dalton, there is a subtle change in attitude with a few chauvinist attitudes.

James Bond today is more serious, seduces fewer women, and is more respectful towards women in his life, including his boss. This shows how the film changes concerning the rise of feminism in the West. For example, Miss Moneypenny used to be a minor character in the very first James Bond films. Today, she is more formidable and doesn’t tolerate sexist remarks.

Perhaps it is precisely because of this blank slate malleability that has allowed different actors that have been cast to play James Bond their own way - rather than get a straight like for like Scottish sounding actor to replacing Connery for example the film producers went across to Moore via Lazenby for example - and letting each actor imbue the super spy with different moods. They each added their own colour from the same broad palate to create different tones. However, each of these characters maintained the essential character that defines James Bond. The actors have broadly stayed true to the inherent mix of character and class associated with James Bond.

For this reason I have some empathy towards your concern that Bond would be held hostage to the current zeitgeist of white washing or genderising everything so as to avoid being a victim of cancel culture. But it’s only empathy because I feel there is a danger of misunderstanding just who James Bond is and what he represents.

What do I mean by this?

I mentioned James Bond is a malleable character to the point he’s presented as a blank slate. This is ‘literally’ true - certainly as far as the books go. Ian Fleming doesn’t tell us much about Bond other than his appearance in his books. Indeed - as I mentioned in my past blog post on Connery as the best Bond - Fleming wasn’t convinced by Connery as Bond. He was reported to have said, ‘I’m looking for Commander Bond and not an overgrown stuntman’ and even dismissed Connery as “that fucking truck driver”. Fleming has good reason to rage. His Bond as written in the books was someone like him.

Like Fleming, Bond was an Eton educated Englishman; an officer and a (rogue) gentleman who was a lieutenant-commander in Naval Intelligence. As Connery began to wow and win over Fleming as Bond, Fleming had a change of heart. Fleming in his later Bond books re-wrote a half-Scottish ancestry for Bond as a tribute to Connery’s portrayal. Bond’s Scottish father was a Royal Navy captain and later an arms dealer, Andrew Bond from Glencoe; and his mother, Monique Delacroix, was Swiss from an industrial family. Bond himself was born in Zurich. Bond isn’t English at all but half-Scots and half-Swiss according to literary canon.

So I mention this because the question who can play James Bond is not as straight forward as it might seem.

But clearly we now have a canon of work, both cinematically and in the literature, where we have base line of who Bond is - or what audiences could possibly suspend their disbelief and go with what is presented to them as James Bond.

I do vaguely remember the hullabaloo and hand wringing around Daniel Craig playing Bond because he didn’t conform to the traditional tall, dark, and handsome trope of James Bond super suave spy. People couldn’t get past his blond hair. Some still can’t. But in my humble opinion he has been an outstanding James Bond and has reimagined Bond in a fresh and exciting way. Craig is in fact mining the Fleming books for his characterisation of Bond as a suave, gritty, humourless killer of the books. Dalton got there before him but that’s a moot point. To our current generation Craig has modernised Bond and dusted 007 down from being a relic of the Cold War to being a relevant 21st Century super spy.

Can anyone play James Bond OO7? Yes and no. It’s arguing that two different things are one and the same. They are not. James Bond is separate from OO7.

Can a woman play Jane Bond or a black woman or non-white man play Black Bond? Respectfully, no. That’s not who James Bond is.

James Bond is a flesh and blood character with a specific genealogical history - whether in the books or on the screen. This Bond has literary back story that is canon and makes him who he is. Bond does transcend time - he can’t be 38 years old for over 75 years in the real world - but at the same time his character only makes sense when rooted in a specific historic context we know existed (and still exists) and not some wishy washy make believe fantasy of British society. He’s an Old Etonian and therefore an upper middle class male product of the British establishment that is identifiable in a very British cultural context.

Jane Bond would have to have gone to Cheltenham Ladies College, Benneden, or Roedean I suppose if we are talking about equivalence - but such girls’ boarding schools were not the breeding ground for future spies (more likely they married them or became trusted secretaries in the intelligence services as well as flower arranging in their Anglican parish church).

I believe they are letting in black pupils on bursaries at Eton these days to be more inclusive but again it’s an an exception not the rule and Eton doesn’t even get public credit for the inclusive work they try to do because it’s not well known.

Moreover we know Bond loses his Scottish-Swiss parents in a skiing accident. I don’t mean to sound racist but I ski a lot in Switzerland and I can say you don’t really find droves of non-white skiers on the slopes of Verbier or Zermatt. Of course there are a few but it’s the exception and not the norm. Again, I’m not trying to be racist but just point out some obvious things when it pertains to the credibility of character that underlines who Bond is. You pull one thread out of the literary biography and the danger is the rest of the tapestry will unravel.

Of course one could try and go for a Black Bond on screen and then hope there is a huge suspension of belief on the part of the audience. But I suspect it’s a bridge too far. It just doesn’t fit. Audiences around the world have an image of who Bond is - British at the very least but also male (damaged and flawed in many ways) and coming from a specific British social class background that serves as an entree to a closed world of English gentleman clubs, Savile Row, English sports cars, and the hushed corridors of Whitehall.

Any woke film maker with an ounce of creative vision and talent and one who is invested in this would be better off creating a new character entirely - with their own specific biography that is both believable and relatable. Can you imagine an American James Bond? What a ghastly thought. Or worse a Canadian one? Canadians are far too nice and far too apologetic to produce a cruel cold eyed killer. But look what clever film makers like Spielberg and Lucas did with Indiana Jones and even later Doug Liman did with Jason Bourne - both fantastic creations that are part of the cultural zeitgeist now.

Or look at Charlize Theron who plays a MI6/CIA/KGB triple agent in Atomic Blonde or Rebecca Ferguson as Ilsa Faust in any of the Mission Impossible movies. I would eagerly watch any movies with these two badass women on the screen. All this talk about making Bond a woman or even coloured is just lazy thinking at best and at worst kow towing to the populist tides of PC brigade.

But I firmly believe one can have a female and a person of colour portraying 007. This is because James Bond and OO7 are two different things entirely. Many mistakenly believe 007 is Bond’s own code name and specific alias to him alone.

007 is a license to kill for a very specialised kind of intelligence officer. Bond has that privilege for as long as he serves at the service of Her Majesty’s pleasure. His 007 license can be revoked - and it has been in the past Bond films - and he’s back to being a just another desk jockey civil servant in Whitehall. So my point is OO7 is not sacred to Bond’s identity. Bond could continue to be Bond even if M took away his 007 license to kill.

The origins of the Double O title may date to Fleming's wartime service in Naval Intelligence. According to World War Two historian Damien Lewis in his book Churchill's Secret Warriors, agents of the Special Operations Executive (SOE) were given a “0” prefix when they became "zero-rated" upon completion of training in how to kill. As part of his role as assistant to the head of naval intelligence, Rear Admiral John Godfrey (himself the inspiration for M), Fleming acted as liaison to the SOE.

In the novel Moonraker it’s established that the section routinely has three agents concurrently; the film series, beginning with Thunderball, establishes the number of OO agents at a minimum of 9. Fleming himself only mentions five OO agents in all. According to Moonraker, James Bond is the most senior of three OO agents; the two others were OO8 and OO11. The three men share an office and a secretary named Loelia Ponsonby. Later novels feature two more OO agents; OO9 is mentioned in Thunderball and OO6 is mentioned in On Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Other authors have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents. While they presumably have been sent on dangerous missions as Bond has, little has been revealed about most of them. Several have been named, both by Fleming and other authors, along with passing references to their service records, which suggest that agents are largely recruited (as Bond was) from the British military's special forces.

Interestingly, In the novel You Only Live Twice, Bond was transferred into another branch and given the number 7777, suggesting there was no active agent 007 in that time; he is later reinstated as 007 in the novel The Man with the Golden Gun. As an aside, in Fleming's Moonraker, OO agents face mandatory retirement at 45 years old. However Sebastian Faulks's Devil May Care (an authorised Bond adventure from the Fleming estate and therefore arguably could be considered canon) features M giving Bond a choice of when to retire - which explains why Roger Moore (God bless) went past his sell by date.

In the films the OO section is a discrete area of MI6, whose agents report directly to M, and tend to be sent on special assignments and troubleshooting missions, often involving rogue agents (from Britain or other countries) or situations where an "ordinary" intelligence operation uncovers or reveals terrorist or criminal activity too sensitive to be dealt with using ordinary procedural or legal measures, and where the aforementioned discretionary "licence to kill" is deemed necessary or useful in rectifying the situation.

The World is Not Enough introduces a special insignia for the 00 Section. Bond's fellow OO agents appear receiving briefings in Thunderball and The World Is Not Enough. The latter film shows a woman in one of the 00 chairs. In Thunderball, there are nine chairs for the OO agents; Moneypenny says every 00 agent in Europe has been recalled, not every OO agent in the world. Behind the scenes photos of the film reveal that one of the agents in the chairs is female as well. As with the books, other writers have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents in the films and in other media.

In GoldenEye, 006 is an alias for Alec Trevelyan; as of 2019, Trevelyan is the only OO agent other than Bond to play a major role in an EON Productions film, with all other appearances either being brief or dialogue references only.

In Casino Royale with Daniel Craig’s first outing as Bond, we see in the introduction the tense exchange between Bond and Dryden, a section chief whom Bond has been sent to kill for selling secrets.

James Bond: M really doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets. Dryden: If the theatrics are supposed to scare me, you have the wrong man Bond. If M was so sure I was bent...she'd have sent a Double-O. Benefits of being Section Chief...I would know of anyone being promoted to Double-O status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills...and it takes - James Bond: - two. (flashback of Bond fighting Dryden's contact in a bathroom.)

The OO is just a coveted position and nothing to do with who occupies it. Ito use a topical comparative example it’s like a football team in which a new star player would be given an ex-player’s shirt number e.g. Messi wears Number 10 for Argentina which is heavily identified with the late great Maradona. So conceivably there would be no problem having a woman or anyone else play 007. I think it would be an interesting creative choice to have a woman or someone else play OO7 and Bond is out of the service and yet he has to work together with this new OO7 - the creative tension would be a refreshing twist on the canon.

Your question about James Bond’s Oxford or Cambridge education is more easier to answer.

It really depends again which Bond one is talking about. The literary James Bond or the cinematic Bond.

In the Fleming books, James Bond’s didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge or any of the other great universities of Britain. In the books Bond’s education is not gone into much detail. We know he was raised overseas until he was orphaned at the age of 11 when his parents died in a mountaineering accident near Chamonix in the Alps. He is home schooled for a time by an aunt, Charmain Bond, in the English village of Pett Bottom before being packed off to boarding school at Eton around 12 years old. Bond doesn’t stay long as he gets expelled for playing around with a maid. He is then sent to his father’s boarding school in Scotland, Fettes College.

Bond is then briefly attends the University of Geneva - as Ian Fleming did - before being taught to ski in Kitzbühel. In 1941 Bond joins a branch of what was to become the Ministry of Defence and becomes a lieutenant in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, ending the war as a commander. Bond applies to M for a position within the "Secret Service", part of the HM Civil Service, and rises to the rank of principal officer. And that’s it.

In the cinematic Bond universe things get more complicated and even contentious as you alluded to in your question. It’s never made quite clear which of the two - Oxford or Cambridge - Bond attended because it depends on how much weight you attach to the lines being spoken in each of the films where it is raised.

In Tomorrow Never Dies, Bond is up at Oxford (New College to be exact since his Aston Martin DB5 was parked in the courtyard at the entrance). He is seen bedding a sexy Danish professor, Inga Bergstrom, to brush up on his Danish (to which Moneypenny on the phone retorts ‘You always were a cunning linguist’). But it’s definitely doesn’t mean Bond studied there as an undergraduate.

Casino Royale is the film many think yes, James Bond went to Oxford because it is mentioned by Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) as she sizes up Daniel Craig’s Bond on the train. Here is the full quote as said by Vesper Lynd, “All right... by the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn't come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means you were at that school by the grace of someone else's charity - hence that chip on your shoulder. And since your first thought about me ran to "orphan," that's what I'd say you are.”

The thing to note is that it’s Vesper Lynd taunting Bond and even then she takes a wide stab by saying ‘Oxford or wherever’ because she doesn’t really know and Bond doesn’t oblige her with an answer.

That whole scene struck me as strange because she’s guessing by the cut of the suit it must be Oxford (or Cambridge). Bond is wearing an Italian suit (Brioni to be specific) and not and English Savile Row one that presumably someone of Bond’s taste and background would be sporting.

A more plausible answer if we are going by the cinematic Bond universe is Cambridge. Indeed it is stated explicitly by Bond himself. Can you guess?

You Only Live Twice which is has the distinction of being the only Bond film (as far as I can tell) from being set in just one country - Japan.

You remember the scene. Lieutenant commander James Bond has just had a briefing with M on board a submarine and is naturally flirting with Moneypenny on his way out. Moneypenny playfully tosses him a Japanese phrase book, saying he might need it.

“You forget,” Bond responds with an expression just short of a smirk as he tosses it back to her, “I took a first in oriental languages at Cambridge.”

So it seems James Bond is a Cambridge man.

A first means - as any British university student would know - first class honours. It’s the highest classification grade one can get in their undergraduate degree ie a ‘first’. Although at Cambridge, like Oxford, you can also get a double first in the part I and part II of the Tripos. Both universities also award first-class honours with distinction, informally known as a ‘Starred First’ (Cambridge) or a ‘Congratulatory First’ (Oxford).

Another oddity is he says ‘oriental languages’ when one got a degree in ‘oriental studies’ at the Oriental Faculty at Cambridge. That is until 2007 when Cambridge bowed to public and student pressure and chose to drop its Oriental Faculty label and instead adopted the name the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies. Oxford still hangs on to its name the Faculty of Oriental Studies.

My only reservation about crowing over an Oxonian is how truthful was Bond being with Moneypenny in this scene?

Is this line meant to be taken seriously or ironically? Most people seem to take it seriously, despite much of Connery's dialogue being obviously ironic and playful. Certainly, Bond is shown to have never been to Japan before and is incapable of saying anything in Japanese other than the odd "sayonara" and "arigato." But then again Bond does know the correct temperature sake is meant to be served at. So there’s that.

Or it could be Bond was speaking a half-truth. I know speaking from experience as someone who very nearly read asian languages instead of my eventual choice of Classics that ‘Oriental languages’ at the ex-Oriental faculty in Cambridge can mean many other languages e.g. Sanskrit, Hindi, Farsi, Hebrew, Arabic as well as Korean, Japanese and Chinese. It opens up so many other delicious possibilities for Bond. If he read Arabic then perhaps he’s being deeply ironic with Moneypenny (after all she would have drooled over read his MI6 personnel file).

If you think I’m losing my mind then ponder on the fact it was Roald Dahl who penned the screenplay of You Only Live Twice. Dahl was not above snark. Indeed pretty sure he would have got a starred first in snark at any university.

Of course the most obvious explanation is that it’s plot armour as a way for Bond to just get on with the story by suspending the audience belief. Why wouldn’t Bond know Japanese? He seems to know everything else imaginable.

However if it ever was it’s now become canon as EON - the production company behind the Bond films - have stated officially for the fandom that Bond’s official bio has it that he went to Eton and Cambridge, where he got a first in oriental languages. So that seems settled then.

In hindsight it makes perfect sense that Bond went to Cambridge since historically Cambridge has provided the bulk of the spies not just for Her Majesty’s service but also for the other side, the Russians - the so-called Cambridge Spies of Philby, Maclean, Burgess, Blunt, and Cairncross, and a host of other traitors. We seem to be an equal opportunities employment service.

I’m sorry to disappoint you and other Oxonians that despite what you might think James Bond didn’t attend Oxford. Believe me as a Cantabrigian it gives me no pleasure to say this…..too much.

Thanks for your question.

#ask #question #james bond #bond #film #cinema #ian fleming #oxford #cambridge #oxbridge #university #education #cancel culture #culture #society #britain #british #personal

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tunedtostatic · 3 years

Text

galaxies of my heart

Vikady, also featuring Sana and a brief Krejjh cameo

CW: injury, aftermath of torture, painkiller drugs, brief domestic violence mention (not named characters), food, discussion of medical trauma & painkiller controversies

As she speaks, one of her hands makes what could be the beginning of a motion to reach for Arkady, then folds back into her lap. Arkady wonders if Sana gave her a crash course on Not Touching Your Loved Ones Without Warning After They’ve Been Tortured Because They Might Freak Out, or if that was something she already knew from her time as a medic. Either possibility feels depressingly plausible.

I finished my first tscosi fic! In which injuries are cared for, miscommunications are miscommunicated, assumptions are countered, and kisses are kissed. Title (and lyrics referenced in the fic) are from “space girl” by Frances Forever, even though it’s kind of a fluffy song relative to some of the subject matter, but not to worry, I have a permit [unfolds a sheet of paper that reads “I was working on my Vikady fanmix in the morning the day I started this fic and got it stuck in my head big time”]

Edit: I realized 9k is a little long to be easily navigable in post form so I archived this as well. I just learned when attempting to post a credited picrew that Tumblr is still hiding posts with links, but it’s at archiveofourown dot org, /works/31851859.

Edit the second: Re-reading “adrenaline makes you do stupid things” by jaggedwolf and I'm 90% sure I accidentally stole a couple things from there rather than the general primordial soup of my brain (the line "That can't be comfortable" and maybe the general concept of Arkady making sure she gets hurt before the person she's been captured with), so adding this to give credit where due to a really great fic that you should definitely read if you haven't already.

The first time Arkady surfaces, everything around her is still coated in a haze as though she’s dreaming. The room is quiet, and when she takes a sharp breath in, all of a sudden Violet is leaning over her, her hair swinging near Arkady’s face.

“You’ve got very dynamic hair,” Arkady says, or at least tries to say, and then she’s asleep again.

The next time she wakes up, she wakes up completely, although her mind still feels a little foggy. Her body aches, and—yeah, based on that ceiling, she’s definitely in the medbay of the Iris 2. Which means that they made it back to the ship, or at least that Arkady did—

Fear surges through her, and she peers back and forth. Her eyes land on Sana, who is sitting to the right of her bed, crocheting something that sprawls across her lap in chaotic loops.

Her intention is to say Sana’s name, but she can’t even make it through the first syllable, emitting a sound that sounds more like the “Ssss” of the litter of feral kittens Brian and Krejjh found that one time. Great job, Patel, you’d make a better hissing kitten than a first mate. Krejjh is going to have to stop calling you First Mate Patel and start calling you Feral Kitten Patel—

The thought of Krejjh is enough to make Arkady’s whole mind flinch. Krejjh—

The feral kitten hiss must have been loud enough for Sana to hear, though, because she’s dropping her crocheting to her lap, looking toward Arkady.

“Kady,” she says warmly, at the same time as Arkady croaks, “Krejjh—”

“Is fine.” Sana’s hand comes up to rest on the pillow next to Arkady’s cheek, a steadying presence, though she doesn’t touch her.

“They were with me.”

“They were.” Sana nods. “But they’re here and they’re not hurt. Hanging out with Brian in the kitchen as we speak.” She glances through the medbay door before her gaze bounces back to Arkady, and it’s such a familiar Sana kind of motion that Arkady feels the remainder of her panic fade slightly. Speaking of octopuses of myth and legend, that’s Sana, one mental tendril keeping track of the approximate status of each member of her crew at any given time.

“How are you feeling?” Sana continues. “Park said you were in a lot of pain before you passed out. Violet has you on a painkiller drip, but she’s using the minimum the way you always want. If you’re in pain, we can raise the dose.”

Arkady turns her attention more fully to her body. Pain and sensation are present, but muffled, as though they are far away. Ribs: hurt. Arm: hurts significantly. Legs: hurt, but only a little.

It’s bearable. “I’ve had worse.”

“Kady—”

“I’m fine, Sana. Just feels like…what do you call them…colors, purple, ouch…bruises.” She shakes her head, then stills with a wince. “The others?”

“Everyone’s safe.” Sana pats the pillow where her hand rests next to Arkady’s cheek. “Park found you and Krejjh before anyone laid a finger on them. He got out fine, too. You’re the only one who was hurt, Kady.”

Arkady studies Sana’s face. “How…bad is it?”

“Six fractures, no serious tissue injuries.” Sana’s voice is gentle but matter-of-fact. “We’re going to pick up some skeletal accelerators next time we’re on-planet. Violet thinks that with those in the mix, the worst,” she gestures to the cast on Arkady’s right wrist, “should be mended in about two months.”

Arkady closes her eyes. One day, everything is fine, the next, a few backwater IGR assholes get the drop on them, and now she’s going to be out of commission for two months.

Still. Better her than Krejjh.

The thought is an icily familiar one, although yesterday she was limited to the grimmer Better just the two of us than the others. Krejjh was tied up on the other side of the room, and when the IGR goons got bored beating on Arkady, or kicked her in the wrong place and just killed her, they’d move on to Krejjh, and there was nothing Arkady could do about it—

Arkady’s eyes fly open, and she turns her head to nudge it clumsily into Sana’s hand. Sana cups Arkady’s cheek in her palm, thumb brushing over her cheekbone, wiping away wetness. When Arkady exhales, her breath is shaky. Stupid. They’re all safe now.

“They didn’t hurt Krejjh?” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, unsteady and small.

“They didn’t hurt Krejjh.”

“Can I walk? Before the two months?” Her voice is still so small. Stupid.

Sana brushes Arkady’s temple with her fingertips, her calloused palm still warm against Arkady’s cheek. “Violet says she thinks you’ll be able to use a walking cast in three or four weeks. Or a little earlier, depending on how quickly the accelerators work their magic.”

Arkady keeps her eyes closed. “Those aren’t cheap.”

“That’s what rainy-day funds are for.”

“Do we even have a rainy-day fund anymore?”

“I will shake Other Violet down for loose change if I have to, Kady.” Sana’s fingers caress her temple again, and there is steel in her voice as she says, “This is my ship, and when one of my crew needs something, I find a way.”

“I know you do.” Arkady opens her eyes, though she finds that her eyelids seem to have grown heavier in the intervening minutes. She blinks sleepily at Sana. “You’re such a good octopus.”

Sana beams. “Thank you, Kady! I…have some questions,” she adds, “but they can wait until later, I think.”

Arkady’s eyelids are so heavy, but there’s one other thing she needs to ask. “Vi’?”

“Violet’s okay, too. She’s been taking care of you since yesterday, but I shooed her off to get some sleep.”

Arkady smiles. “’nks, S’na.”

Sana smiles back. “We’re all okay,” she says tenderly, “and if anyone out there tries to change that, I will demolish them.”

Arkady nods against Sana’s hand, straining to keep her eyes open.

“We’re all okay, Kady,” Sana repeats, and Arkady lets herself slip into sleep.

There are hours of restless dreams, and a dreamlike interlude where someone gently shakes her awake, holding her head up and helping her drink a medicine cap of chalky fluid, before she slips back into dreams that finally segue into deep sleep.

There is quiet music playing the next time she wakes up. She can remember where she is this time, and she lies with her eyes closed for a minute, enjoying the sound of the instrumental jazz track she recognizes from Krejjh and Brian’s Infinite Space-Themed Playlist. In the darkness behind her eyes, she doesn’t have to face the fact that she can’t walk, or run, or kick, or punch, or protect the crew, or—

Okay, maybe the space behind her closed eyelids isn’t as restful as it could be. Arkady opens her eyes.

Violet is sitting beside her bed with one leg tucked up on the chair, reading a tablet. A few strands of hair have fallen from behind her ear to brush against her cheek, and she’s biting her lower lip the way she sometimes does when she’s focused on something. Brian’s little retro radio music player is sitting on the bedside table, continuing to ooze soft jazz as Violet lifts an absentminded finger to tap to the next page, then curls her hand back into her soft sweater.

Yeah, eyes open? Definitely an improvement.

She should probably say Violet’s name, regardless of how endearing it is to watch her read. Before she has a chance to do so, though, she must breath loudly or make some kind of noise, because Violet looks up, her face crinkling into a tired smile.

“Hey,” she says softly.

Arkady smiles. “Hey, Liu. Good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Violet’s smile quavers for a second. “Really, really good.”

Arkady tries to make her voice reassuring. “Hey, I’m okay, Violet, huh? It’s gonna be okay.”

Violet rolls her eyes, a small smile blossoming on her lips. “You’re the one in the medbay bed, Arkady. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“It sounds like you have been taking care of me.” Arkady smiles again. “Sana said you were here with me all night until she made you get some rest.” She thinks back, trying to pin down a faint memory. “I remember seeing you, leaning over me?”

“Yeah, you woke up really briefly last night.” Violet wrinkles up her forehead in that adorable way that she does. “You said something that sounded like, um…‘You’ve have hair’?”

Arkady grins. “Well shit, Liu, you sure do have hair, don’t you?”

Violet laughs, shaking her head back and forth. Her hair bobs around as though a breeze is passing through the medbay, and Arkady laughs too, then winces as the pain in her ribs flares.

Violet stills instantly. “You have some fractured ribs—”

“Yeah, kinda put that together.” Arkady tries to breathe with the minimum possible amount of motion.

The expression on Violet’s face makes it look like she’s in pain herself. “Would you like me to up the dose on your painkiller drip?” she asks softly.

“Nah.” Along with the flaring pain in her ribs, both of Arkady’s legs and her right wrist have that same itching, burning ache. The rest of her body is just sore, like she’s covered in bruises, which she probably is. “Uh, speaking of which, though. Could I get a rundown on what’s, you know, busted? Sana said I had…six? seven?...fractures, but we didn’t get into specifics beyond the two-month limit.” She grimaces a little at the thought.

“Six,” Violet confirms immediately, before adding, with an abashed smile, “I mean, not that that makes things that much better than seven?”

Arkady resists the impulse to laugh again, confining herself to a snort. “Can’t argue that point.”

“In answer to your question,” Violet begins, slipping into her calm medic tone of voice, “you have two cracked ribs and fractures to your left foot and right ankle. They broke your right wrist pretty badly, and I’m going to need to be very careful about injecting any accelerators there, especially if we can’t find an actual doctor on-planet to do it, so it might be a little more than two months before any, uh, heavy use, but you should have the hard cast off earlier than that.”

“Right.” Arkady inhales through her nose; exhales through her mouth. “Could have been worse, right?” At least she isn’t blubbering the way she was with Sana, but her voice still drops too small and quiet on the last word.

“It could have.” Violet’s own reply is almost a whisper, and Arkady silently swears at herself for her choice of phrasing.

When she looks up, though, Violet doesn’t look weepy.

She looks furious.

“Hey, you okay there, Liu?” Arkady stares at Violet’s clenched jaw and balled fists. “You look like you’re about to blow a gasket.”

Violet laughs a little, flexing her fingers and curling her hands more loosely back against her sweater. “Did you pick that one up from Tripathi?”

“That’s not a mechanic expression. Everyone uses that expression.”

Violet gives her a skeptical look.

“Okay, yeah, I may have picked it up from the captain. It’s still a normal-person expression, though.”

Violet chuckles, and they both lapse into silence.

This is nice, Arkady tells herself. Spending time with Violet is nice. It’s nice, it’s pleasant, it’s a way to distract herself from the itching, burning ache in her limbs and the creeping dread of knowing that if the ship is boarded, Arkady can’t even run, much less protect anyone else.

“Speaking of Tripathi,” Violet says with a smile, “I should give you an update on the latest, ahem, on-ship situation. Our captain has declared that next time she has a free moment she’s going to tear out that weird shallow closet in the hall next to Park’s room and put in inset cabinets for towels and stuff so Park and RJ and I don’t have to cross the ship for them. But when RJ found out, they said…”

Arkady tries to listen to Violet’s narration of Sana and RJ’s stalemate about the cabinets, smiling at the appropriate points while keeping a lid on the sinking feeling of knowing that for not days but weeks, she’ll be able to do jack-all do protect either Sana or RJ, or Violet, who is sitting here smiling at Arkady with love and trust in her eyes as though half the universe isn’t out to get them here in their one fragile ship that Violet wouldn’t even be on if Arkady hadn’t tricked her onto it in the first place—

She shoves the thoughts away, focusing on formulating a reply to Violet’s story. “Well, if it devolves into fisticuffs, Sana could take them, but if Sana calls a vote, I’m pretty sure Brian and Krejjh will side with RJ about the sheet music, and I don’t know what or whether Park would care.” She grins. “So, even odds.”

Violet snorts. “Well, I’ll keep you apprised, assuming none of the combatants wander in here to make their case to you themselves.”

“Medbay and a show?”

“On this ship? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Arkady grins again. “I don’t know why Krejjh thinks being an outlaw is boring. The way we live, we practically produce our own shampoo.”

Violet snorts again before adding, in the kind of giggle-whisper Arkady most closely associates with grade-school gossip, “I can’t believe they got RJ into Sh'th Hremreh.”

“I know.” Arkady bites back another grin. “I mean, I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Krejjh can be very persuasive.”

“If by ‘being persuasive’ you mean ‘talking loudly and enthusiastically about a piece of media until everyone in their general vicinity is compelled by gravitational media force to watch the thing in question,’ then yes, I guess you could refer to it that way.”

“I notice it hasn’t worked on you yet.” Arkady raises an eyebrow. “Or has it?”

“No, I have not dipped into Sh'th Hremreh.” Violet raises an eyebrow. “Yet.”

Arkady bites down on another chest-killing laugh before it can escape, glancing toward the radio on the bedside table. “Speaking of Brian and Krejjh creations. The notorious Infinite Space-Themed Playlist, huh?”

Violet smiles, gazing at Arkady tenderly. “You seemed a little restless in your sleep, and I’ve always hated total quiet when I’m sick, so I thought maybe it’d be nice to put on some background music.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Arkady pushes away an obscure flash of annoyance at the sentimentality of Violet taking the time to put on this playlist for an asleep Arkady as though something as trivial as music is a priority when Arkady is down for the count and Krejjh is doubtless drained from yesterday themself and the whole crew is going to have to figure out how to scrape by and cover piloting shifts and handle everything with no security officer and a stressed pilot and a tired medic and—

She shoves the annoyance aside, telling herself not to be an ass. There are literal studies showing that music is good for mental and physical health, right? And she sure as shit could use as much distraction as possible from the ache of her ribs and her ankle and her messed-up wrist. Having a playlist on is nice. This is nice.

Holst’s The Planets has come on, making for a somewhat grim background compared with the rest of the playlist, and Violet leans forward to jab irritably at the advance button until a benign rock song begins.

Arkady gives her an inquiring look, and Violet sighs, biting her lip again.

“I am so angry,” she says finally. “About what they did to you.”

“You and me both, trust me.”

Violet sighs, slumping in her chair. “You and me aren’t the only ones who are. Krejjh was pretty…shaken. Brian and Sana have been there for them, obviously,” she adds hastily, “and they’re doing fine. We can take care of each other. We are taking care of each other. The last thing I want to do is make you worry about us. But…” She trails off. “This isn’t just another day on the Iris. Not for any of us.”

“Well, that’s why the IGR does what they do,” Arkady mutters, closing her eyes. “Torture gets results.”

Violet sounds startled. “Every credible study in the universe has shown that torture doesn’t work. You said yourself—”

Arkady opens her eyes. “Torturing someone to interrogate them doesn’t produce reliable information. People know that. That’s not what it’s for. Torture is popular across the universe, through history, because it punishes people. Controls them. Their families. Whole societies.” She wouldn’t have to explain this to Sana. “When it’s on the table, you live your whole life under a threat. The actual torturing makes the people doing it feel powerful and good, and in the environment it creates, everyone else is easier to control. Win-win.”

Violet’s eyes have gone all huge and empathetic. “Arkady—” she whispers.

Something about that look always gets under Arkady’s skin. “Calm down,” she snaps. “I know you’re incapable of not freaking out when I talk about my childhood, but no, I’m not implying I was beaten up as a kid. The guards mostly just beat on adults; I think they knew that if they went after kids too often, enough people would’ve stood up against them regardless of losses. Or hey, maybe it was a vestige of human decency. Kinda doubt it, though.” She gestures vaguely with her good hand, careful not to pull at the IV. “I mean, of course I got beat up by other kids a few times, but just in a normal way, not in a torture way—Point is, yeah, I’ve known this stuff for a long time, but it’s not like you’re a stranger to it, right? You’ve spent your entire adult life under the IGR. You knew what was happening to some of the people who were disappearing.”

Violet is staring silently at her with that look of horrified concern, but hey, at least Violet’s overempathetic mind jumping directly to Cresswin as an explanation of Arkady’s knowledge on this subject is arguably preferable to her thinking through the percentage of Arkady’s life spent in Special Forces and then as an IGR guard herself, a train of logic that she finds herself hoping Violet doesn’t follow.

But that isn’t the right way to think about it, is it, her brain points out a moment later, the way it does whenever she considers discretely concealing the most hideous parts of herself from Violet. Violet is dating her. She deserves to know what she’s gotten herself into.

“It was never like…this,” she starts. “It was never me in a room with a helpless person, hurting them. But you know I was Special Forces during the war. You know I was a guard on Telemachus. Yes, I grew up on a prison planet and it’s all very sad but once you get over your latest shock about that—you’re a scientist, you can do the math and figure out that I don’t only know how this works from one side of it.”

Violet’s eyes are getting progressively wider, and Arkady drops her gaze to stare fixedly at her own hands. “They didn’t train us on the details of it; not…techniques. I mean, I don’t doubt they had people for that, but that would’ve been above my pay grade. But me, us, those goons who got the drop on us yesterday, we’re instructed pretty clearly in, ha, ‘maintaining control over a noncompliant population.’ Not like it’s just a few backwater goons breaking bones, either. When I was a guard—”

It isn’t even that her voice breaks, not really. It’s more of a stumble over the sudden realization that her voice should be breaking, or shaking, or anything other than steady and clear.

“When I was a guard, we all knew that some of the people we were guarding would be ferried to the more, ha, specialized options. Zone Z isn’t a secret.” Her voice, still flat, is rising. “And during the war…I can’t pretend that what I did in combat was better. I killed a lot of people, Violet. I killed a lot of people and they will never be alive again. You can’t say that that’s better than being a professional torturer. I can’t pretend that, and I can’t pretend some of my unit and some the people leading us…I can’t pretend that they didn’t do…” She stares down at her body. “This kind of thing.”

Silence. Arkady forces herself to look up.

Violet is staring at her in horror, but, for once, Arkady at least agrees that it’s justified.

She can feel herself breathing hard, and her face is wet again, which is frankly an indictment of her as much as anything else in this conversation. Crying to your girlfriend for sympathy about the horrible things you’ve done to other people isn’t exactly a good look.

“Look,” she says. “Some of this will haunt me until the day I die, and that’s good. It means I’m still human; it means…it doesn’t matter what it means. It’s what I need to do whether it means anything or not. I should be haunted. I think even Sana would agree with that.” She sighs. “I can figure out a way to live with this shit, and I do, but you signing up to…you know…see…someone who you knew was a smuggler and a killer doesn’t mean you thought through the implications of the IGR part of the equation before you asked me out.” Her voice is rising in irritation even though Violet is the last person in this medbay who deserves it. “I’m not the most mobile right now, but this is your medbay, I think you can find the door—”

“Arkady.”

Arkady looks up again. Violet is making steady eye contact with her. The horror hasn’t all gone out of her expression, but her voice is firm, not panicked. “I knew, when I started going out with you, that you had been a soldier with the IGR.”

“Okay, but you also assumed anyone who’d fought in the war was a ‘war hero,’ so you’ll forgive me if I have my doubts that you grasped what—”

“Arkady.” Violet’s voice is louder now, but still very level. “In case you need the reminder, I was fully aware of both your history and what the IGR was capable of the day I asked you out. You know, the day we were fleeing New Jupiter in a stolen IGR ship? That day?” A faint note of humor has entered Violet’s voice, though it disappears as she continues, “I’m going to leave for five minutes, to go to the bathroom and splash water on my face, not for good. I’ll have my communicator if you need anything.”

“Oh.” Arkady stares at her. “Okay?” she manages.

Violet walks out of the medbay, and Arkady stares blankly at the ceiling until her footsteps reenter. As promised, the hair around her face looks damp, but she looks calmer, more settled. She sets a glass of something on the bedside table.

“I brought you some juice, which you should be able to have now that you’re up and talking, but—” She sighs. “We should probably discuss this first.”

Arkady watches her.

“Arkady, I…” For the first time since her calm monologue before leaving the room, Violet looks uncertain, then presses on. “Like I said. I did know that you had been a guard with the IGR, and I did know more or less what that meant. And I knew—” She rubs her face with one hand. “Well, I didn’t know, it’s not like you can ever know with anyone, when I was a paramedic I saw cases of domestic violence where you never would’ve—anyway. I thought that I knew that you weren’t the kind of person who hurt people for your own satisfaction, and that felt like enough.” Her eyebrows crease together. “You make me feel safe. You always have.”

Arkady can feel her face beginning to get soaked again. All the things that she feels are careening around inside her, as though her heart is a ship in a bottle and somehow, within the glass, someone has conjured a storm.

“And it…sounds like I was right?” Violet lets out a breath that could almost be a shaky laugh. “You never…you’re saying you never did to anyone else…the kind of thing that was just done to you.”

She opens her mouth again, then hesitates, her words becoming slower and more contemplative.

“You’re right, though. I’m not sure I…that in the time after I’d realized the IGR was a lot less than less than perfect, I’m not sure I ever thought through the degree to which you, as a guard, would have been complicit in…those things. And…” She sighs again. “You’re right. I do think of people who fought in the war as heroes. I mean, I never really had a chance to—or, no, I can’t sit here and claim that I never had a chance. I never let myself think about how likely it was that some of the people fighting for us were…how did you put it. Specialized at things that make me sick even to think about. But also…”

She drops her gaze to her lap.

“I…I know that you killed Dwarnians. People. I know that a lot of soldiers killed a lot of people. I mean, that’s what war means, right?” She gives another shaken almost-laugh. “And I’m not—I’ve never been the kind of person who celebrates other people dying—”

“I know you’re not, Violet.” Violet is a biologist and a medic. Her work is the stuff of life, not death.

Violet slumps lower into her chair. “Yeah. But…because those deaths feel…felt…feel…partially justified to me, because the Dwarnians were trying to conquer us…maybe I let that make me forget a little that those deaths are still…deaths.”

She lifts her face, looking Arkady in the eye, and Arkady isn’t sure what she sees there. “Sometimes I wonder whether, irrespective of everything else about our lives—” Violet makes a swirly motion with her hand, as though to encapsulate the distances between worlds. “I wonder if you always would have been the kind of person who doesn’t lose sight of the death part.”

“Interesting theory, Violet,” Arkady says, once she can get herself to speak. “Doesn’t change that I was the one of us doing the killing.”

As she says the words, she realizes that they sum out to something snarkier than she intended, but there’s no bite to her voice, and Violet seems to register that.

“No,” she says simply. “It doesn’t.”

Arkady watches Violet in silence as she scrapes tendrils of drying hair off her forehead, straightening back up in her chair.

“Anyway. I’m not walking out that door, Arkady. You’re right, I hadn’t truly thought about what it meant that you were Special Forces. There are probably things about the war that I need to…well, I’ll probably never understand them completely, but things that I need to acknowledge.” She sighs. “But I meant what I said earlier. When I asked you out, I was asking you, not some hypothetical better you. Besides,” she adds quietly, “it’s not like I don’t have my own regrets.”

There’s a pretty big difference between ‘keeping your head down and getting a college degree’ and ‘actively killing people,’ but Arkady doesn’t feel like getting into it.

She lets herself sink back into the pillow. The room feels calmer, like the air on a planet after a storm.

No, it doesn’t, Violet said, and somehow, that feels like an anchor. Violet isn’t so horrified by the things that Arkady has done that she needs to pretend that they don’t exist.

“I. Uh. Okay.” Arkady attempts a smile, though she has a bad feeling that she’s making more of a weird grimace.

Fortunately, Violet doesn’t seem to mind, giving her a smile of her own that’s only a little shaky. “I’m glad we, uh, talked about this, but I’m guessing it isn’t doing your pain any good and I’m ready to shelve it for now if you are?”

“Shelving, uh. Sounds good.” Arkady nods vigorously. “Yeah.”

“Also, you owe me an apology for snapping at me,” Violet says calmly.

“Oh.” Arkady stares at her for a second. “I…shouldn’t have done that, should I?” Great job restating the obvious, idiot. “I…” Jesus Christ.

Violet is watching her silently. Arkady takes a breath.

“Violet, I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have snapped at you about something that had almost nothing to do with you. I mean, I shouldn’t shout at you in general, that’s broadly speaking a dick move, but in this particularly context I definitely, especially shouldn’t have—”

Shut up, shut up, shut up. What is a good apology even like? Sincere. Doesn’t make it about yourself.

“What I mean is—I’m sorry.” She bites her lip. "And, uh…thank you. For, um, not holding me to a lesser standard because I was hurt.” Or because I’m someone who has hurt other people. “Not that you should have to remind me I owe you an apology, but…” She squirms. “You had enough faith in me to know I’d. You know. Want to. So. Uh. Thanks.”

So much for not making it about herself. She coughs awkwardly. “So. Yeah. Uh. You sure there’s not anything…more that you want to talk about? Because I, uh, just freaked out and dumped a ton of my garbage right into your lap, and if there’s anything else you need to say, or ask, or whatever, I’m here. I mean, I kinda can’t go anywhere else right now, but—you know what I mean.”

“Thanks.” Violet smiles a little. Arkady nods, trying to smile back and hoping this one isn’t too grimacey.

Staring at Arkady as though deep in thought, Violet says, “I don’t think there’s anything else, right now. I still want you to talk to someone about…all this…at some point. It doesn’t need to be a civilian counselor. Just…someone. But…”

Violet bites her lip. Her pained look from when Arkady hurt herself laughing is back, if it even ever left. “You have multiple broken bones and you’re stuck in bed and in pain, and right now more than talking about anything I just want you to be able to rest.”

“Oh,” Arkady manages. Helpfully, she follows it up with, “Ah.”

Violet smiles again, then hesitates. “Though, there is—"

She is staring at Arkady very intently all of a sudden, and Arkady can practically see the gears turning inside her head. She feels her own body tensing, a runaway voice inside her warning her that reminding Violet about so much of her past all in one go might mean that this is the day Violet finally does walk out the door for good.

But when Violet speaks, it’s not about the part of the conversation that Arkady was expecting.

“So…you’ve always known that torture, um, works. Ever since you were a kid.”

“What? Yeah, I—you grow up on a place like Cresswin, you get a pretty firm grasp of what torture is used for, yeah.”

Violet is biting her lip as though in deep thought. “So…when I was on the Iris…and you’d just stopped pretending to be Kay Grisham, and I accused you of wanting me to get in the cryo chamber so you could torture me for information…you said ‘We don’t torture, it doesn’t yield reliable results,’ and then you said, ‘Also, it’s wrong.’ But you believed…you knew that torture did work.” Violet’s voice is slow, her face still screwed up as though she is working something out. “Even if not for the exact purpose I was accusing you of. So…when you said all that…the reason that you, the real you, didn’t torture, that the Rumor crew didn’t torture, is just because it’s wrong.”

“Gee, Liu, glad you’re having a warm, fuzzy realization about how heartfelt and wholesome it is that our crew doesn’t torture people.” Arkady’s pent-up dread gives way to a fervent eyeroll. “Have you met Sana? Like, held a conversation with her? At any point in time? For more than thirty seconds?”

Violet sighs in annoyance. “That isn’t what—” she fires back, then stops, her voice going gentle again. “That isn’t what I meant. Do you want to try to have some of the juice now?”

“Liu,” Arkady says, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Are you keeping a lid on the snarky repartee because I’m all injured and convalescent? Because if I can say anything I want while you nobly go easy on me, can I just comment that the way that you put cereal in your milk a little at a time ‘so it doesn’t get soggy’ is mind-blowingly—”

“You’re making me. Want. To be a lot. Less. Noble. About it.”

Arkady snickers, then smiles, holding out her bruised but less-busted left hand. Violet stops mock-glaring and reaches across Arkady’s body to take it in a careful, awkward clasp, smiling at her as though…

Well, shit, Arkady doesn’t know how to put it into words, or at least not into words that aren’t all dramatic and weird. Violet is smiling at Arkady as though Arkady is some wonder of the universe that Violet can’t believe she gets to have the privilege of seeing, like a star or a comet or…whatever it is that biologists rock their socks about, a really cool bug or something.

It’s weird and kind of overwhelming, but kind of in a good way, and Arkady just wants to sit here and hold Violet’s hand, and look at Violet, and let herself be looked at by Violet like the wonder of the universe that Arkady knows that she is not but that she could, as Violet watches at her, almost believe herself to be—

“Violet,” Arkady says, wrinkling her eyebrows. “How many painkillers do you have me dosed up on right now?” She squints at the IV bag above her, dropping Violet’s hand and trying to shove herself a little more upright against the pillows. “Also, does a convalescent gal get to sit up around here? I kinda want to try some of that juice, and maybe someday even do something horribly taxing like read an update on our ship’s computer systems.”

The corner of Violet’s mouth turns up in a smile. “I’ll raise the bed. Let me know where you want to stop.”

“Right.” Arkady lies back as the fancy Iris 2 medbay bed hums its way upright. “Okay, stop.”

Raising her head from the thin pillow, she tips her stiff neck back and forth, peering around the medbay, which looks pretty much the way it always does. Sana’s multicolored crocheting bag is slung over the back of a chair.

“Let’s see, I think there’s—” Violet leans somewhere behind her, pulling out a fresh pillow and reaching forward to tuck it gently behind Arkady’s head. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“In answer to your question,” Violet says, still in her calm, attentive medic voice as she continues to adjust the pillows, “you told me back when I was taking down medical info on the Rumor that you prefer minimal use of sedative painkillers, and even the Iris doesn’t have any of the good non-sedative intravenous stuff, so I’ve been using the minimum of the intravenous sedative painkillers and transitioning you to our standard orals. That should mean you’re less groggy, but also that we’re blocking less of the, well, pain, so let me know if you want me to adjust the dose. It’s not all-or-nothing; I can fiddle with it a little without instantaneously sending you to another dimension,” she adds, a note of warm humor in her voice as she sits back in her chair with smile.

Arkady blinks, still stuck on the first part of that. “You did?”

“Did…” Violet frowns, visibly parsing which of her words Arkady is referring to, before her face clears in understanding. “Did stick to the minimum end of the range I considered safe and reasonable?” She gives Arkady a look Arkady doesn’t quite know how to interpret, sort of alarmed and sad. “Your medical decisions are your own, Arkady. I’m not going to override your wishes just because I care about you and seeing you in pain isn’t easy for me. Or any other reason.” Violet’s eyebrows furrow. “No one should,” she adds, in that quietly defiant tone of voice that she uses when she’s declaring something and has realized that she wants the whole universe to know it’s what she believes.

“Oh.” Arkady swallows. “Yeah.”

“We’re coming up on the next dose of the orals in a quarter of an hour,” Violet says, her voice businesslike again as she checks her watch. “In the meantime, are you ready for juice?”

“I didn’t even know we had juice.” Arkady eyes the glass with interest.

“There was some concentrate in the pantry. When Tripathi and I sorted the food, we tucked some of it away in case someone got hurt and needed easy fluids.”

“That was very forward-thinking of you.”

“On this ship, not really,” Violet mutters, holding the glass to Arkady’s lips.

Drinking from the glass as Violet holds it turns out to be somewhat complicated and require both of their full attention, but once Violet sets it back down, Arkady leans back against the pillows with a smirk. “Hey, we’re dashing space rogues. A few bumps and bruises are all part of the job.”

“‘A few,’” Violet returns, but without rancor.

“It’s my job, Liu,” Arkady snarks back cheerfully. Between the juice and the strains of one of Krejjh’s actually-good Dwarnian jazz tracks and Violet’s reassuring presence next to her, Arkady is beginning to feel more like herself than she has in a while, the helplessness of yesterday starting to feel a little further away. Even the pain is…okay, the pain is still pretty painful, actually, a constant burn at the edges of her mind.

She hesitates.

“Violet?”

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe…” Arkady licks her lips. “You said you could fiddle with the painkiller drip a little, right? Because my shitty bones kinda hurt a lot and I wouldn’t mind if they, uh, didn’t.”

“I can do that.” When Violet meets Arkady’s gaze, her voice is calm and serious. “I’ll start with a small increment. It will take about thirty seconds to take effect. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

Standing, Violet adjusts something.

Arkady waits.

“Do you feel anything yet?”

The relief is noticeable, the pain in Arkady’s chest and limbs cooling down a notch. “Better. Wow. Better.” Arkady hesitates. “You, uh. Said that that was a small increment? I think I could use another small increment.”

“Okay.” Violet makes another adjustment.

This time, the relief is almost total. Arkady stares at the ceiling, feeling tears of relief prick her eyes as the burning ache eases to almost nothing.

Everything feels a little foggier, too, but she’s still here, and able to form mental sentences, and the pain is all but gone.

“That’s good.” She bites her lip as Violet sits back at her side. “That’s really, really—the pain is almost gone. Now.”

Violet swallows visibly, staring at Arkady in relief.

Arkady feels a tear coalesce and run down her cheek, and Violet reaches forward with gentle fingers to wipe it away.

“I’m glad, Arkady,” she whispers. “I’m so glad.”

Arkady lets a long breath out, looking around the room again. It’s almost like being in a new room, a room-without-pain, during a new day, a day-without-pain.

“Sana will be glad, too,” she comments wryly as her gaze lands on the crocheting bag again. “She gets all twitchy whenever she manages to have good food or meds or supplies on hand and someone doesn’t use them.” She grins. “It’s her whole octopus thing. You know, I think I called her an octopus yesterday? Krejjh won’t shut the hell up about octopi now that they’ve found out they’re, gasp, actually real, so I guess I just permanently have octopi on the brain now, and I was thinking about how Sana has her whole multitasking thing where she’s got an eye on the status of the whole ship and everyone on the crew at all times, and—damn it, I should have called her a ghost squid. She would have hated that.”

Violet is giggling helplessly. “I can’t believe you called Tripathi an octopus.”

Arkady grins lazily. “Yeah, well, now she’s gotten to enjoy living with the mystery of what the hell I was talking about. Even sedative-induced grogginess has the occasional upside, right?”

Speaking of twitchiness, Violet’s twitchy question face is back, though Arkady can tell she’s trying to hide it.

“You didn’t override what I told you, okay?” Arkady says. “You didn’t dose me up, even when I couldn’t have done anything about it, because I’d told you not to. So I figured you wouldn’t take a mile if I gave you an inch.”

“Oh.” Violet sits back in her chair, looking at Arkady with that same expression she was looking at her with earlier, sadness and something else Arkady can’t parse.

Arkady sighs. “During the war. When you got injured, they knocked you straight out. It made it easier on the medics, I guess—no panicking soldiers, just unconscious bodies to take care of until they got better or didn’t. And easier on the medics meant less medics per ship, which made it easier on the brass. I mean, I guess that was why, though I wouldn’t put it past just being a power trip for some of them—”

“I know.”

“—but it isn’t like you can easily say when it was that and when it was—” Arkady blinks. “Huh?”

Violet sighs, her eyes dropping to her lap. “That’s not just a wartime thing. When I was a medic out by O-11, some of my colleagues used too much sedative on people they thought were being a problem. Or who…might be a problem. Aggressive, scared, not ‘compliant,’ whatever. Of course, if you paid attention to who they were more likely to think was a problem…”

“I’m guessing there were patterns?” Arkady offers.

“Yeah.” Violet bites her lip. “The irony was that…this was less of a thing out in the field, but pretty often when someone was actually in the hospital, they’d be denied painkillers because the staff decided they were lying or exaggerating. It was…” Violet twists her hands in her lap. “It wasn’t just those problems, either. When you have a lot of people living in poverty, the power dynamics with whoever is in charge of access to medical treatment get…bad. It was not a good situation, and I was—you know. There. Being part of it.”

Arkady blinks, staring at Violet. Maybe the reason she didn’t know how to interpret the look in Violet’s eyes earlier was because it wasn’t actually the panicky huge-eyed way she looks at Arkady what feels like every time Arkady mentions some detail of Cresswin, but a look of recognition.

“I never thought about what it would be like to be a medic under the IGR,” she says quietly.

Violet finally looks up. “Part of it was the IGR, but a lot of my older colleagues had come up doing the same thing. It’s like you said. Republics aren’t perfect, either.”

“Oh.”

Violet licks her lips, hunching further into her chair. “It’s like you said about the war. Yes, sure, once I wasn’t a trainee and it was me and some colleagues out on a call, we were never the ones who gave those injections, used more than was needed. But that doesn’t mean that the ones I was with were always great about other things, or that others weren’t…” She sighs. “Just because I didn’t do anything especially bad myself doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have…you know, tried to do more than I did.”

Arkady stares at Violet, considering offering her her less-busted hand again, but decides against it. If she were Violet she wouldn’t want someone pawing at her trying to offer comfort about something that can’t really be comforted.

Violet’s work is the stuff of life, she thought to herself blithely only a few minutes ago, somehow not thinking about how much being a medic had to do with death and utterly traumatic shit. And-or, apparently, standing aside while your colleagues hurt and traumatized other people and then having to live with that.

“Jesus,” she says.

“Yeah.”

They sit quietly for another few minutes.

“Well, on a lighter note,” Arkady says awkwardly, “when it comes to your current cool, awesome medic job with our little band of dashing space rogues…can I, uh, have some more juice?”

The worst of the haunted look slides off Violet’s face as she smiles. “Of course.”

When the glass is empty, Arkady does reach her less-busted hand toward Violet, tugging her forward when she takes it. “Come here.”

She thinks Violet might go for a kiss on the forehead, depending on how fragile she’s thinking of Arkady as being right now, but Violet kisses her on the lips.

Their lips move together gently for a few seconds, then Violet settles back into her chair, smiling. “Your lips are sticky.”

“Excuse me, Liu, but I feel I should point out that your lips are now also sticky.”

“Touché.” Violet grins as she stands up again. “How’s your pain? We should still be transitioning you to the orals, so I’m going to get that ready now.”

“Still good.” Arkady smiles, wiggling the fingers at the end of her cast as Violet heads for the medbay sink.

“I know you and Sana are going to grump at me and Krejjh at some point for covering you and RJ instead of running,” she calls, “and then grump at me even more for making sure they hurt me before Krejjh, but if it had to be us, you are lucky you got me as a patient instead of Krejjh, trust me. They got completely freaked out when we tried to introduce them to Necco wafer candy a few years ago and still make grim remarks about ‘humans eating chalk.’ Dissolved pills would not be an easy sell.”

She’s expecting Violet to banter something back, but Violet looks downcast when she returns to Arkady’s side.

After Arkady has knocked back the chalky goo, she watches Violet carefully as she returns to the sink. That look could be about any number of things, but Arkady has the strong feeling that she’s seen it before, the first time Violet was bandaging her up after her gunshot wound on the Gay Louisa.

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, hesitantly, when Violet sits back down.

Violet’s face crinkles up in concern as she looks at Arkady. “Mad?”

Arkady grins weakly. “You know, because I went out and got myself hurt again?”

Violet’s forehead smooths out, then re-crinkles itself a second later. “I—no, Arkady, I’m not mad that other people tortured you. Or, I mean, I’m mad, I’m—furious, but at them, not at you.” She pauses. “And yes, I’m…‘mad’ isn’t the right word, but…it makes me upset that you got badly hurt to protect me and RJ, and it makes me upset that you think it’s good for it to be you who gets hurt instead of the rest of us. But you know that the times I chastise you for getting hurt, I’m not angry at you. Right?”

She smiles on the last words, in that specific abashed way that she smiles when she’s asking for reassurance about something that she thinks is just her anxiety playing up and probably not something she should actually be worried about at all.

When Arkady just stares at her, though, a look of alarm passes into her eyes. “You do know that, right?” she asks in a smaller voice. “I would never be really angry at you for getting injured.”

“Oh,” Arkady says. “Yeah. Of course I know that.” Did she?

Violet looks like she isn’t particularly fooled. “Well, now you do.” She sighs, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. If—hypothetically speaking, I mean,” she adds, her lips twitching in the ghost of a smile. “If you’ve ever thought I was actually angry at you for being injured in a bad situation…I’m sorry.”

Arkady blinks at her, finally managing to muster a nod.

Violet smiles a little, reaching out and smoothing Arkady’s hair. “I’m not mad at you, Arkady. There’s nothing about you being hurt and in pain that I would ever be angry about.”

“Well, not nothing,” Arkady points out. “You just said that you were upset that I try to put myself between the rest of you and danger.” She can’t resist adding, “You know, my literal job?”

“Your job is being first mate.” Violet’s voice cracks slightly.

Time to see how prohibitive this wrist cast is. Arkady lifts her hand to Violet’s face, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s a job with a lot of facets.”

Violet sniffs wetly, lifting her own hands to gently support Arkady’s wrist as she lowers it to her lips and brushes a kiss against Arkady’s fingers.

“I’m not mad at you for putting yourself between other people and danger, Arkady,” she whispers. “In fact, it’s probably one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

Arkady can feel her face getting hot as she stares, dazed, at Violet. “But…”

“I think it was a very brave and good thing that you did yesterday, and it scares me and makes me angry how okay you are with getting hurt to protect other people. I can feel both of those things at the same time.” Violet smooths Arkady’s hair again.

“Oh.” Arkady clears her throat awkwardly. “I. Oh.”

Violet chuckles, reaching up to dash a tear from her own eye. “You know what I feel, right now, more than anything? I’m just glad to have you back safe with me.”

“Oh,” Arkady says again. “I. Um. Hhh.” Get it together, Feral Kitten Patel. “I’m…glad to be back with you too. Um. Really glad.”

Violet smiles through her tears, and they gaze at each other in silence for a while.

“You know,” Arkady says wistfully, “I’m not exactly thrilled I can’t use a gun, or a knife, or punch anyone, or—” She cuts herself off. “Uh, you get the idea. But what I really can’t wait for is to be able to scoop you up, carry you to bed, and hold you in my arms all night long.”

“I.” Now Violet is the one blushing. “You…”

Arkady smirks, and Violet seems to regain the ability to form sentences, reaching out and caressing Arkady’s cheek. “Well, the scooping me up in your arms part will have to wait a little longer, but you should be able to relocate to your real bed some time in the next few days, and then there’s nothing stopping us from a whole lot of careful cuddling.”

Arkady smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

“As for right now…I can’t exactly crawl into bed with you,” Violet says, sounding regretful, “but we could try…”

Pulling the chair with her, she moves so that she’s sitting as close as possible to Arkady’s shoulder, then carefully lowers her upper body to the bed so that her lower left shoulder rests just below Arkady’s right one, her face nestled into Arkady’s neck. Her left arm is presumably squashed under her, but her right hand comes up to rest on Arkady’s shoulder, thumb gently stroking Arkady’s shirt.

“Liu,” Arkady says, trying not to laugh, “that can’t be comfortable.”

Violet’s mutter against her neck sounds almost sleepy. “You’d be surprised.”

“Whatever you say.” Arkady tips her head to lean her temple against the top of Violet’s head. “Are you gonna fall asleep like that?”

“No,” comes the immediate response. “Or. Actually, this is more comfortable than I thought it would be, and I shouldn’t leave you alone for more than fifteen minutes while you’re still on the drip, and alarms are fallible so maybe I should…” She raises her hand to her comm. “Violet Liu to Iris Cockpit.”

“Attem—”

“Hello, Science Officer Liu!” sings Krejjh’s sunny voice. “How’s the patient?”

Arkady can feel Violet smile against her neck. “She’s doing pretty good, Krejjh. Hey, can you send someone down here in twenty minutes to poke me awake? First Mate Patel and I are at risk of engaging in some romantic tandem sleeping.”

“Iiiii sure can, Science Officer Liu!” The grin in Krejjh’s voice is audible, and Arkady feels a lingering echo of fear fading from her mind at the sound of them alive and well. “Aaand I’ll let you get right to it. Krejjh out.”

Arkady snorts. “I have no idea why you’re eager enough to cuddle with me that you’re willing to risk getting shaken awake in situ by a pilot making disgustingly enchanted faces at how ‘cute’ we supposedly are.”

“It’s a high price,” Violet says solemnly, her voice sleepy, “but it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

Arkady snorts again, trying to ignore the growing feeling of sunlit happiness in her chest. Violet’s hair is soft against Arkady’s face and her body is warm against Arkady’s side, and Arkady stares up at the ceiling, trying to comprehend how and why she has gotten ridiculously, disgustingly lucky enough to be here, now, with Violet’s hand curled around her shoulder and the steady rise and fall of Violet’s breathing against her.

In the kitchen, someone or something makes a subdued crashing noise, and someone else cackles loudly. Arkady can feel Violet’s amused sigh, and she smiles, letting her eyes drift closed.

“I hope you play this song someday,” croons the radio, “and think of Earth girl who loves space girl…”

A gentle current of air from the vents stirs a strand of Violet’s hair against Arkady’s ear, and she wriggles her head minutely to dislodge it before tucking her head back against Violet’s. As she closes her eyes again, the feeling of sunlit happiness is so strong that she wonders if she’ll be the one to stay awake even as poor tired Violet falls asleep. That would be ironic, wouldn’t it?

When Krejjh enters the medbay eighteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, they have to bounce back and forth from one foot to the other in silent agony for several seconds at the sheer adorableness of the sight of their crewmates cuddled together on the medical bed. First Mate Patel’s forehead is smoothed out in sleep, a smile on her lips, and even when Krejjh nudges Science Officer Liu awake and she disentangles herself from her girlfriend, Arkady curls her head into the indentation Violet’s cheek has left on the pillow, as though even in sleep she knows that any space that Violet takes up in the universe is a place where she will be safe and sound.

#the strange case of starship iris #vikady #arkady patel #violet liu #my writing #fic #tscosi

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aliendes · 4 years

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Natural Borns - Chapter Five

Banner made by @thebannershop

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, future smut - NSFW due to darker themes

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: mentions of sex in exchange for favors but it doesn’t actually happen, mentions of suicide, anxiety, and depression. Mentions of alcohol, tobacco, and drug use. Mentions of prescription drugs and medical stuff like blood. Insinuations of poly relationships, if this make you uncomfortable, this will be a reoccurring theme for the rest of the series. The boys love each other, that’s the point of this story. Mentions of skipping meals? If that’s a warning. Warnings will be different for each chapter from here on out.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 4.2k ~

A/N: I’m really excited for this chapter! This is Yoongi’s backstory! Yay!! There is also some juicy info in this chapter that will be explored in the next one. Also, you guys voted for smut with romantic relationships, so please note that for the rest of the series, there will be smut, poly relationships, etc. If this makes you uncomfortable, I totally understand. If you want to be added/removed from the taglist please send me an ask! Enjoy!!

xx Des

Updated: 8/15/2020

As the day went on, and the sun started to set beyond the hills, your mind was plagued with the thoughts that this was all a horrible, horrible idea.

After you stormed out of the warehouse, the remaining four men in Yoongi’s room continued to argue about whether or not it would be a good idea to let you help with their plan. Seokjin and Jungkook were firmly against it. They felt enchanted by your personality and something about you was captivating to them. Hoseok and Yoongi were both incredibly unsure of your place in this family, not yet trusting of you. Yoongi obviously felt an attraction to you, but he wasn’t entirely sure it was anything beyond physical at this point. Though, he knew if he let it, it would fester into something much, much stronger. Whenever you were present he could feel himself start to slip. The cold exterior he always made a show of keeping up, crumbling to ash in his hands. He can’t deny the way his heart clenched in his chest when you ran out of the room. He wanted to run after you, tell you that he wouldn’t make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with. But he held himself back. He’s had plenty of practice holding himself back and not allowing his emotions to crack his icy walls.

Namjoon was Yoongi’s first friend in the facility. They were both ‘bought’ from their mothers when they were teenagers, and since they were similar in age, they roomed together at Big Hit. Namjoon had already been at the lab for a few months before Yoongi showed up, disheveled and scared. Unlike Namjoon, Yoongi had a very hard time coping with the fact that he now had to live in a cramped room with another boy, be poked and prodded and experimented on.

Namjoon had lived a pretty sheltered life, and didn’t have too many friends growing up. Yoongi was the complete opposite. He was seen as the ‘bad boy’ in his high school, always getting the girls because of his unusual good looks, smoking cigarettes behind the school, and causing trouble in his classes. He liked to think he had a lot of friends, but most of them were deadbeats who only hung around him because he stole cigarettes and alcohol from his mom’s boyfriends. Regardless, he enjoyed being out of the house and living his life the way he wanted to. When he was brought to Big Hit, all of that changed. His freedoms were stripped from him, even basic human needs were stripped from him. They would often go days without eating, only being given water, told that they had to ‘fast’ in order for certain experiments to work, or for certain blood work to be done. All of the torture they endured was ‘in the name of science’. Or so they were told.

Yoongi went through the stages of grief pretty quickly in the lab. When he first arrived, he was extremely upset, in denial that any of that was actually happening to him. He would tell Namjoon that his mom would come get him any minute now, and all of this would be some horrible joke she played on him to get him back on the straight and narrow, get him to stop skipping school and drinking. After a few days went by, he realized she wasn’t coming, and anger quickly took over him. Yoongi attempted to break down the door in his and Namjoon’s tiny room, to no avail. Eventually the guards sedated him and Namjoon had to look after him for two days while he sweated out the medication, shaking and dehydrated from lack of fluids. After that happened, he started to bargain with the guards or the doctors that would come take him into exam rooms, telling them he would do anything for them to release him, even resorting to offering favors in exchange for freedom. He never followed through with any of his offers, but he would later hate himself for stooping that low.

After a few weeks of this, Yoongi eventually developed severe depression, even being put on suicide watch at one point. After spending so much time together in their tiny dorm, Namjoon started to really care for the older boy and was extremely distraught over his behavior. He would tell Yoongi that everything would be ok, and one day they would get out of there. Some nights it got so bad Namjoon would slip into Yoongi’s bed and hold him close while he sobbed or when he woke up from nightmares.

Yoongi would sleep away days at a time, not eating or drinking water. Namjoon would have to force water down his throat when he was getting delirious and having horrible migraines that prevented him from moving around too much. Namjoon would lay with him while he shook from dehydration mixed with the meds they gave him. Yoongi lost his will to live, lost his will to do anything but accept what the lab was doing to him. There was nothing he could do about it, and while Namjoon had remained optimistic about their future, Yoongi accepted their fate and allowed the doctors and technicians to do whatever they wanted with him. He became a shell of his former self, not getting out of bed unless carried by Namjoon or the technicians, staring at the wall for hours on end, and only speaking when he was forced by the doctors. Namjoon cried for his friend, only wanting to help, wanting to get him out of there.

That was why Namjoon came up with the escape plan. One night, after Yoongi had been at the facility for nearly a year, Namjoon woke him up in the early hours of the morning. Apparently, the younger had been learning the rotations of the technicians and the guards when he was being moved from room to room. He would also listen in on their conversations while he was being given meds or having his blood drawn in the exam room, which was right next to the guard room. He didn’t tell Yoongi what he was doing because he didn’t want anyone to overhear them and ruin his plan, so Yoongi was completely shocked to learn he had all of this planned out.

Namjoon said that the guards would be on break in the guard room around 3:30 AM, and at 3:40 AM the technician on duty would rotate with the morning shift, who comes in at 3:45 AM and the guards would end their break around the same time, giving them a five minute window to get out of their rooms and down a hallway that led to the elevators. They both knew that this hallway led away from the exam rooms, and therefore, away from the guards. Yoongi was even more shocked when Namjoon pulled a keycard out of his back pocket that he took off one of the guards earlier when he was being given medication. That keycard would allow them to get onto the elevator and, hopefully, escape this place.

Given all the things that could’ve gone wrong, Namjoon and Yoongi’s escape went relatively seamlessly, and once they were out of that God forsaken place, they moved from place to place together, sleeping on the streets, abandoned houses, and homeless shelters, until they met Seokjin and Jungkook. Two men who were at one point, also housed at Big Hit, but released for different reasons. They would later meet the others and form the family they know and love today. Yoongi was thankful for the six men, living with them, and growing with them. They had a shared traumatic experience that they helped each other through, leaned on each other, and eventually developed a bond that they never expected.

Even after all these years, Yoongi still admired Namjoon and was beyond thankful for him for being there through his darkest times. Quite literally keeping him alive in the facility when he had given up trying. He owed Namjoon his life and respected him more than anyone on this planet. He never wanted to disappoint him and has been helping him find other natural borns to further his vision of equality, even if he didn’t always want to. Yoongi would much rather it just be the seven of them for the rest of their lives, but he understood why Namjoon pushed for this, why he stood up for others that couldn’t stand up for themselves. It was one of the many reasons he admired the man.

That is exactly why Yoongi is currently standing outside the warehouse, back against the large metal door you had run out of earlier today. The sun had set over an hour ago, meaning you had been gone most of the day. The others would have panicked by now, had it not been for Hoseok alerting them of your whereabouts. They were all shocked when Hobi had come into Yoongi’s room a few hours ago, letting them all know he had been watching you from the second floor, sitting on a rock down by the quarry. Jungkook and Seokjin had both wanted to go to you, but Namjoon talked them down, telling them you needed time to process everything that had happened to you. You were dealing with a lot, even now, and you didn’t even have the full story. They knew Namjoon’s words were true, having gone through something similar themselves. Though, they couldn’t imagine how you were feeling, having to suddenly leave your family with little explanation.

It was only after Namjoon pulled Yoongi aside in the hallway, telling him again he needed to fix this, apologize to you, even if he didn’t want to. He needed to make sure you stayed with them because if you didn’t, you’d be in more danger than you realized. Yoongi would never let Namjoon down, and so, he made his way down to the water to make good on his promise to fix this.

You were vaguely aware that the sun had set a while ago, sat on a rock, knees pulled to your chest, and face resting upon your crossed arms. You weren’t sobbing anymore, just a few stray tears falling every now and then. You were sure your face was red and swollen with how much crying you’ve done today.

The sound of the ripples on the water, the wind slowly blowing the trees around you, and the sound of chirping crickets was helping you relax, but with nightfall, brought cooler temperatures. Even though it was summer, it was still a bit chilly at night with how much humidity was in the air. Being right next to water wasn’t helping either. Just as a chill ran down your spine, causing you to shiver violently, you felt something warm being draped over your shoulder.

You startled, head snapping up at the new presence beside you, causing you to let out a curse as you nearly fell backwards. As you righted yourself, you were met with a pair of nearly black eyes that you least expected to see right now. “You’re shivering,” Yoongi coldly stated, face emotionless as he looked down at your pathetic state.

Way to state the obvious, you thought. But truthfully, you were thankful for the warmth of the leather jacket he had wrapped you in. You audibly gulped, looking up at him with eyes as wide as they could go, considering how puffy they were. “T- th- thanks…” you trailed off quietly, grabbing the sides of the jacket to pull it closer to you. You hadn’t realized just how cold you were.

“You coming back up?”

You mulled over his question for a moment. You were cold. And hungry. And completely and utterly exhausted and probably dehydrated with the river of tears you’ve cried today. Yet, you didn’t feel all that welcome in their ‘home’ and you were unsure if you really wanted to go back. Yoongi seemed to notice your hesitancy, taking the opportunity to say what he had practiced all the way down here. Talking wasn’t his strong suit. “They’re really worried about you, you know,” he uttered, softer than before, but still monotone.

Is that what he came all the way down here to tell you? You furrowed your brows at him, “They can come down here if they want,” you were pretty sure your brazen attitude was stemming from your emotional state and the chilly breeze, “they didn’t have to send you.”

Yoongi pursed his lips into a thin line, biting his tongue from saying what he really wanted to say, you think I want to be here? Instead, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose and let out a long sigh. When he opened his eyes, he saw you still staring at him, daring him to say something. He liked it, the fire in you. You seemed like a shy girl, timid even. He hoped you still had that fire after you learned what a horrible, unjust world you all live in.

Yoongi sat down on the rock next to you, not asking first, just making room for himself. You quickly scooted over, not feeling incredibly comfortable with him yet. “I’m sorry,” he began, staring down at his lap, “I was being unfair.” It almost sounded like the words were forced, like he didn’t really mean them, or want to say them, but you still took some comfort in the fact he was at least apologizing to you. Not that you thought he owed you an apology, but it still felt nice.

“No, you aren’t being unfair,” you murmured, looking out at the now cerulean blue water, “I’m sorry. Sorry I’m here.”

You sounded so small, so defeated. You reminded Yoongi of how he felt when he was first taken from his family. Scared, alone. Something in him wanted to reach out to you, comfort you, and he almost did, stopping his hand midair before it could reach your arm. You noticed his movement out of the corner of your eye and before he could retract his hand, you flinched. Actually flinched away from him. It was slight, but it still took Yoongi by surprise, jaw hanging slack, eyes widening at your apparent fear. Of him. Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever felt shittier in his life. Was he so cold someone was actually afraid he’d hurt them? He’s never hurt anyone in his life. Sure, he was a ‘bad boy’, broke his fair share of laws, but he has never, ever, hurt another person.

“YN -”, he retracted his hand immediately, bringing it behind his back, wanting to hide the offending appendage, “I - wh -” he wasn’t even sure how to finish his sentence. He watched you pull your knees closer to your chest and lay your forehead on them, letting out a breath you had been holding. You didn’t look scared, you looked exasperated, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel any better at all.

You didn’t actually think Yoongi would hurt you, you’ve just been so used to people treating you however they want, especially in high school. Boys would push you around in the hallways, girls would pull your hair in class and steal your backpack from under the lunch table. After high school, men would pull on your skirts or dresses at the market while you tried to sell flowers with a smile plastered on your face, which inevitably caused you to throw away any clothes that weren’t pants and baggy shirts. You were relatively afraid of people, and even though you trusted the men who took you in and have been helping you, you still didn’t know Yoongi, or the type of person he was. Now you felt remorse at the look on his face when you flinched away. He looks honestly heartbroken, regret written all over his features. You shook your head back and forth, forehead rubbing against your linen covered knees.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed quietly, not daring to look back at the blonde next to you.

Yoongi’s heart broke further at the sound, “Can I touch you?”

Though you were shocked at Yoongi’s sudden query, you didn’t lift your head. Slowly, you nodded up and down, hoping he could see it. Now that you were expecting the movement, you didn’t startle as Yoongi scooted closer to you on the rock and gently, softly, ran a large, warm hand up and down your spine. Yoongi inwardly noted that your bones were perhaps sticking out a little too far, that maybe you’ve skipped one too many meals lately. Or maybe, you didn’t have access to them. He wasn’t sure. He had no idea what kind of home you lived in. He had limited information, and most of it was about your father. That thought made him remember something, “Pearl?” Yoongi whispered cautiously, not sure how you would react to him having this knowledge. Hoping that you would find some sort of comfort in it, since your friends and mother called you that.

You immediately stopped sniffling, body going stiff as a board. You sat up abruptly and looked Yoongi dead in the eyes, “What did you call me?” He could see the red rims of your swollen eyes, dried tear tracks being covered by new ones and another piece of his heart cracked off, swallowed by the ocean of his chest.

“Pearl,” he uttered again, a little more confidently, “isn’t that your nickname?”

“H-how?” You stuttered, staring into his vast ocean eyes. They held more emotion than you were accustomed to, coming from him. You gently shook your head back and forth to dislodge the tears that were gathering at the corners.

Yoongi visibly blushed at your question, quickly avoiding your gaze and turning his head to the side and removing his hand from your back. You momentarily missed the warmth. He looked like he was gazing out at the water, but you could tell he was embarrassed. You narrowed your eyes at him. What was he hiding? “Yoongi?” You sniffled again, which caught his attention. He bit his cheek and looked at you through his lashes.

“I- I’m sorry.”

You were even more confused now. “For?”

“Everything,” he let out an exasperated sigh, “for yelling at you last night, for acting like sending you to Big Hit was a good idea, and…” he trailed off. You waited a moment, tears forgotten as you listened to the man be sincere for the first time since you met him, “for going through your phone.” His words were quiet, so quiet you almost asked him to repeat himself, but after a moment realization hit you.

“Y- you went through my phone?” Long gone was the remorse you felt for leaving your friends, the sorrow you felt at possibly losing your family. In its place, was anger. An ugly, red monster that was brewing in your chest. A part of you knew it was irrational, but the other part knew that he wouldn’t be ashamed if he didn’t feel like he did something wrong. This man, who yelled at you, made you feel small, made you think you didn’t matter… had invaded your privacy. Namjoon promised he would shut off service to your phone, making it untraceable. He promised it would be safe in their hands. You wouldn’t let your mind trace this back to Namjoon, no. He did nothing wrong. You were angry at the blonde sitting in front of you, wide-eyed with a mouth shaped like an “o”.

He shook himself out of the momentary shock at your reaction, “Y- yes,” he dragged out before quickly adding, “and I’m so sorry YN, really I am. It was wrong of me, and I know that. I know that! I just…”

You cut him off before he could finish that thought, “If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?”

There was a deep ‘v’ forming on your forehead. The face you wore didn’t resemble someone who was angry, more concerned. Or disappointed. Yeah, that was the right word, Yoongi thought. He felt small in this moment, like he was a child being scolded for stealing cookies. He sighed and looked down at his hands folded in his lap.

“I was scared,” was all he could come up with at the moment, feeling so incredibly guilty and having no other way to express it to you.

“Scared?” You scoffed, he hasn’t been acting very scared. In fact, it seemed more like he was putting on a tough guy persona to try and scare you. “Of what, exactly?” You were feeling brazened now, these boys were really bringing out the sides of you, weren’t they?

A beat passed before Yoongi uttered, “Of losing my soulmates.”

The anger you were feeling just moments ago, dissipated in tiny fractures until all that was left in its wake was empathy for the man sitting across from you. For the first time since you met him, you felt like you saw Yoongi’s rock solid wall, crack slightly. His expression was still blank, like usual, but there was something in his eyes that was calling out to you, for help. He was just like the others. Scared, alone, worried. He found a home in these men, his best friends, maybe even his lovers. Something you were just starting to realize you might be finding in them, too. You were all alike, in some way or another. All felt like you didn’t belong, and here, with each other, you did belong. If you could feel that, you can’t imagine what Yoongi must feel for the others, having spent so much time with them.

You look away from Yoongi’s eyes, staring out at the water like he had been moments ago, cracking under the pressure of his intense gaze. Biting your lip to keep the dam from breaking again you whisper, “I shouldn’t be here.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly, but after a moment realized what you had meant by that. “That’s not what I meant, YN,” he sighed and ran a hand down his face, “really, it’s not.”

“No, I know, Yoongi,” you started, not turning to look at him just yet, “I’ve been thinking about it all day. I don’t want to walk in here and ruin what you guys have, get in the way of your friendships, or relationships,” you blushed at the insinuation, “I should go home. We don’t even know if my parents know anything, or if they even planned on giving me to Big Hit. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions, they know that.”

Yoongi started to panic, not just because he knew Seokjin and Jungkook would be crushed if you chose to leave, but because he knew you didn’t know the whole truth. Should he tell you? Namjoon would kill him. He didn’t want to disappoint his best friend, his savior, his love. But, he also didn’t want to possibly endanger you by allowing you to return home. He was already starting to care deeply for you and was terrified of the possibility of you getting hurt. “YN -” he started before sucking his lips between his teeth, contemplating his next words. At his silence, you removed your gaze from the quarry and turned towards the nervous looking man. He was wringing his wrist between the fingers of his other hand, a nervous tick.

You looked at him expectantly through long lashes, eyes still red rimmed from crying away most of the day. Yoongi still thought you looked ethereal, especially with the way the moon was reflecting in your eyes. It was like he could see the entire galaxy staring back at him, and it made him feel things he didn’t want to feel right now. Not when he was about to break your heart.

“YN I, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go back. I know you don’t trust me,” he rushed out, making sure you weren’t going to cut him off again, “just let me explain why I’m saying this. I haven’t made the greatest impression on you, and for that I really am sorry. Like I said, I was scared. That’s not an excuse to treat someone poorly, but I hope you can understand that I love the others more than I love myself.”

Your eyes softened at his confession. You could see the love they shared for each other, but hearing him say it really solidified your observations. “Namjoon isn’t telling you the whole truth,” he noticed your eyes go wide, at mentally slapped himself for the poor choice of words before quickly saying, “it’s not what you think! You are like us. You are different. And you are in danger. But Namjoon knew if he told you just how much danger you were in, you probably wouldn’t trust him. He’s not a bad guy, in fact, he’s the exact opposite. He’s saved my life once before and I’m positive he’d do the same for you.”

If you weren’t confused before, you sure as hell are now. They were lying to you? “YN, your parents,” he let out another sigh hating the words he was about to say, “they are the ones lying to you. Hyunwoo and your father weren’t classmates. They worked together,” he felt like a traitor, like he was letting Namjoon down, “he’s a beneficiary of Big Hit. They’re already paying for you.”

To be continued...

taglist: @minifruity @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz @chim-possible @kooksremedy @irishhbamb @sugashaye @lovelyseomin

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yukipri · 4 years

Text

On Deuce, Part 1 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Alrighty, here's a story thing on Deuce!

My goal for this story? series? thing, is to not just give everyone a better idea of who Deuce is, but also bring up other Novel A characters and events that are relevant to the Mermaid AU (and there are several), especially for those who have not read the novels. Also want to give some info on what the hell Ace was doing in his Three Years between when he first left Dawn at 17, and him restarting his journey together with Lu.

I am defs in no way going to retell Novel A (if you wanna read them, the official English translations are out through Viz), but there are defs some major changes that occur in Ace's past as a result of Lu being a mermaid, that I feel are relevant and will tie in to some future decisions.

WARNINGS for this section:

＊I have not read the English translation of Novel A, only the original Japanese, and as such names etc. may be inconsistent.

＊This section contains MAJOR SPOILERS for Novel A volume 2, specifically about the identity of one of the novel only charas. If you want to read the novel without being spoiled, you may want to hold off on this, but if you don't care, go ahead!

＊Just a lotta Deuce being introspective, he's just that kind of guy.

＊Hint of implied AceLu

Three years ago, Deuce met Ace on a deserted island, and they formed the Spade pirates together. Deuce was Ace's first crew mate on his first adventure, and he finds it poetic that he's also his first on his next, a journey all the way back to the starting point.

Deuce, in many ways, is Ace’s opposite. While Ace was the Spades' fire, their Sun, the charismatic leader who drew them together and whose flames fueled them forward, Deuce was the voice of reason and responsibility. Deuce was their strategist, their navigator, and their doctor all in one, a true First Mate who gave more orders than the captain to keep their crew functioning. If Ace was their beating heart, Deuce was their backbone.

Ace loved the Spades, and the Spades loved their captain, love him still, even after joining the Whitebeards. But Ace also carries darkness, and secrets that he decided he didn't want to burden his crew with, both for his benefit and theirs.

Ace has two major secrets: one, that he’s the Pirate King’s son, and two, that his “little brother” is a female mermaid.

The first, only Deuce knew among the Spades. He found out on accident, back on that deserted island where they first met.

Deuce likes to think that the rest of their crew would have accepted Ace regardless, that their faith wouldn't be so easily shaken by their captain's heritage. But at the same time, he both understands and sees wisdom in Ace choosing to remain silent. Knowledge of even the mere existence of the continuation of the Pirate King's bloodline is something that the World Government would and has killed for. Ace doesn't want to subject his crew to that, and to be honest, Deuce doesn't either.

But one other on their crew knew Ace's second secret, regarding the identity of his younger brother.

When Banshee, the lone woman on their crew, revealed that she was a mermaid, Ace's reaction wasn't that of a typical pirate. Their other crew members were a mix of awe at her tail, and rude disappointment that their mermaid crew mate was a plump older woman and not a sexy young babe.

But Deuce watched Ace, and saw his eyes widen, glued to the shimmering rich green of the mermaid's tail, and Deuce knew that he was being reminded of a specific person.

Deuce was already in the room when Ace asks Banshee to join them to talk in private. Deuce makes to leave, but Ace gestures for him to stay--after all, Deuce already knows what they're going to talk about.

"Auntie, sorry for calling you in here all of a sudden," Ace begins, using the nickname the crew had adopted for her.

"This is about me being a mermaid, isn't it," she says bluntly. "Is that going to be a problem, or...?"

"No, no, not at all!" Ace quickly holds out his hands placatingly, eyes wide.

Deuce doesn't blame Banshee for her wariness; he's heard more than enough about the dangers of mermaids out at sea, especially around pirates. Which, is probably what Ace wants to talk about anyway.

"It's...well, this is less me wanting to ask you questions, and more me wanting to let you know something," Ace begins, and Banshee frowns. The crew knows the basics of their captain's origins, and has had their ears chatted off about his love for his brother--but he doesn't talk much about himself much.

"It's about my little brother--"

Banshee heaves a huge sigh, all tension leaving her shoulders, and she throws an are you fucking kidding me glance at Deuce, who also sighs but minutely shakes his head to redirect her incredulous gaze back to Ace. Because well yeah, it is about Luffy, but it's actually serious this time.

"Well, you know my little brother Luffy," Ace begins again. "I don't tell a lot of people this, and actually other than you, only Deuce here knows. But...he, is actually a she, and she's, well, a mermaid."

Deuce watches the information sink in, because it clearly wasn't what Banshee was expecting.

"Is that why you caller her 'younger brother'?" she finally asks.

"Well that...that's a bit complicated, actually. That's not the reason why she's my younger brother. But I realized it's convenient, so I've just been going with it."

"I was going to say, if it's intentional, that's awfully clever of you, captain," she smiles teasingly, and Ace sputters while Deuce snorts. Banshee has a point, because Deuce actually had been the one who'd mentioned the convenience of the title 'little brother' in protecting Luffy's identity. But, he keeps quiet for now.

"So, yeah, I just wanted to let you know that well, that's where I stand regarding mermaids." Ace shrugs, then scritches his cheek, looking away. He's always awkward about Feelings talk, but it needed to be said, and Deuce feels proud of him.

Because mermaids are so incredibly vulnerable above sea level, surrounded by humans. While young maidens are the most targeted, coveted by slavers as a free ticket to wealth, power, and connections to even the Celestial Dragons, even an older woman like Banshee might face discrimination and danger. Ace had wanted to make Banshee feel safe and secure on his ship, and revealed his own familial connections to give his words weight.

The woman smiles fondly at Ace, much like she might a son, and ruffles his hair as Ace blinks dumbly. "Thank you, captain," she says. "I knew I had a good feeling about you, before I asked to join this crew. It's not often a mermaid joins a pirate crew, you know?"

"You surprised me, I didn't know mermaids could have legs," Ace says honestly, eyes brimming with blatant innocent curiosity as they flick shyly to her feet, and Banshee ruffles Ace's hair harder. "It's my first time meeting a mermaid other than Lu."

"Mmm, well, she seems to be in good hands, with an older brother who knows how to be discreet about her, even if it's only by following Deuce's plans," she says, and Deuce guffaws while Ace buries his face in his hands, because of course she'd already guessed. "But well, I know now. So you can ask me anything you'd like, and tell me about her, if you want."

With Banshee's invitation, Ace pounces on the opportunity, and Deuce listens in even as he continues writing in his journal, occasionally taking notes in the margins when their their conversation gets interesting. Banshee tells them how merfolk tails split when they reach thirty, allowing them to live as humans on land. She tries to convince Ace to keep his brother hidden until that age, when mermaids are far safer and less attractive to slavers, but Ace shakes his head. It was hard enough convincing her to stay behind this time. She'll be leaping off that island at seventeen, no matter what I say.

Eventually, someone comes banging on the door to pitifully beg Banshee for food.

"Thank you, Auntie," Ace says as they get up to rejoin the crew outside.

"You talk to me again whenever you want, captain. And I'm always ears to hear more about your darling Luffy." She says the last part with a knowing little wink, before stepping out, leaving Ace blinking with confusion.

Deuce sighs, because Ace can be oblivious at times, and clearly doesn't know how he looks when he talks about Luffy. And Banshee just found out that said Luffy's a girl, a mermaid, and unrelated to Ace by blood.

To be fair, Deuce's pretty confident that Ace's feelings wouldn't be any different even if Luffy was a guy and human, but he gets where Banshee's coming from. Even if it still seems far too early for Ace to come to any realizations about himself.

Bc YEAH, Ace had a mermaid on his crew, so of course that is Majorly Relevant to AU.

Prolly jumping right to Whitebeards next update for this series, whee~

As always, thank you so much for reading, and an extra thank you so much to anyone who can spare me a few words of thoughts! ;A;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#Masked Deuce #OnePieceMermaidAU #One Piece Mermaid AU #One Piece #text headcanons #long post #longpost #AceLu #future DeuceLu #yes today is apparently Deuce night bc I said so

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letsunity · 3 years

Text

Not Afraid - Chapter 2

Summery -

The Bad Batch go to Tatooine to resupply and avoid the Empire. As per the usual, Omega gets separated from the group. Fortunately for her, Krayt's Claw just so happens to be nearby. Bossk and Embo guide her to Boba Fett, who takes interest in why the Kaminoans want her. It's a reluctant partnership, with the Bad Batch having to rely on Krayt's Claw to navigate non-military life.

Come the morning; Omega awoke inside of a ship she didn't recognise. It was cosy, the padding she lay on was soft, and the covering was warm. The smell of Kamino eased her anxieties, adding to the comfort. As she sat up, she saw carvings in the walls. They looked like stories, but she couldn't read them.

She heard chatter outside, the sound of Bossk and the Dengar man. The girl calmly slid off the bunk, not having slept like that in a long while. As she stepped outside, Dengar gave a short wave.

"Got some new clothes for ya," said the man, snapping his fingers as he pointed at the 'base'. "Sonic shower is just downstairs. High's down there if ya need a hand."

As they watched her walk inside, Bossk sighed, uncertain of the coming days. If the Kaminoans wanted her, Bane would be sniffing around. Whenever he's involved, things get complicated.

"She looks like Boba, don't she?" Dengar said casually, not bothered by the similarities. "Maybe those long-necked guys mixed his juice with someone else?"

The moron could be right, although Bossk couldn't be sure. That was something to investigate later on.

"All the more reason to keep her around. Where's Boba?"

"Buggered off with Black San. They think they've found the ship or something."

"Yes, the ship you were supposed to look for."

"Hey, if a lovely lady wants to grind my gears, I'm not gonna say no."

"What mental deficiency did she have?"

"I can get women!"

"Kidnapping doesn't count."

"You're just a total buzzkill; you know that? You're killing my vibe. It's Vibemicide right now."

"How about I move up to homicide?"

"I'm too pretty to die."

"How'd you know? You crack any surface showing your reflection."

Back and forth like that could go on for hours. Dengar had an answer for everything, prolonging verbal combat.

Omega entered a makeshift basement, a larger area containing their weapons. The droid tried speaking to her, but when that failed, they motioned for her to follow. They guided her to the 'shower', providing a box to put her old clothes.

The showers on Kamino were more like gusts of air. It was freezing and felt like sand against her skin. She hated them, even though they were infrequent.

Instead of a small tube, it was more spacious. As Omega touched a button, vibrations surrounded her body. The grime the days since Kamino fell away, stripped from her skin. Her hair felt funny, sifting out dead skin and natural oils. It wasn't long but didn't need to be.

When she stepped out, the droid had turned away from her, which was odd. The Kaminoans preferred her without clothing so they could examine her easier, even if it was uncomfortable. Omega looked at some folded clothing left on a tale for her, new and fresh.

As she put them on, the feeling was abnormal. She expected it since she was wearing new clothes, better suited for the outdoors. Her new shoes were heavier, made to last a while in tough terrain.

"Thank you," she smiled, earning a nod from the droid.

She ran back upstairs, greeted by Marrok and Embo. Embo gave her a thumbs-up as Marrok licked her cheek.

The atmosphere changed as the door opened, revealing a human in dark armour with similar colours to the Bad Batch. Marrok whined at the human, tipping as a treat flew his way.

"Any luck, Bo?" Bossk asked, coming from the back with Dengar, who had a bloody nose.

"I left a note," 'Bo' shrugged, turning to the kid. "You must be Omega. I'm Boba."

"I'll make breakfast," Bossk stated, moving to their pantry. Dengar protested, insulting his 'Mando' food. "Shut up, or you're breakfast!"

Highslinger beeped, making Dengar throw a tin at the droid. Embo supported the droid's statement, tipping his metal hat.

"Welcome to Krayt's Claw," Boba introduced, used to their antics. "How're you with spicy food?"

"What's spicy?"

"You're about to find out," he assured, removing his helmet. She was stunned to see a clone. He raised a scarred brow like he was reading her. He tossed a blaster to her, smirking. "Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it, kid."

She had her own blaster, all for her. Finding a holster, she pushed it in, feeling secure.

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

No matter where they looked, they couldn't find her.

It was terrifying. She was swallowed by the crowd, vanished without a trace. Tracking in the sand is a nightmare; there were too many trails to choose from. Wrecker felt responsible, which he partially was, even though Hunter might've done the same.

"There is a new development," Tech said, pointing to a 'note'.

Someone took a knife and carved a message into their ship. Angry, Hunter walked up to it, reading each symbol carefully. It was made roughly half an hour ago, meaning that they missed whoever has Omega. It gave coordinates, but Hunter was cautious. It could be a trap.

"If they're looking for credits, they aren't going to get any. We barely have enough for fuel and less for rations, let alone the kid," Echo pointed out, sounding incredibly irritated. "It's not like we have the resources to fight our way to her."

"If they wanted to fight, they'd have set up an ambush," Tech countered blandly, wanting to repair his ship. "Though cautious, we should investigate."

"Who's to say it isn't a Bounty Hunter wanting us as well as Omega?" Echo asked, rightfully unsure.

"Regardless, we're getting her back. We don't leave our own behind," Hunter affirmed, ready to get her back.

Warily, they followed the coordinates, weapons ready for combat. In the distance, they could see a black Wookie staring at them, observing quietly. He was probably steaming hot in this weather. The female Zabrak next to him stared as well, starting to talk in her comms.

Everyone was aware of them, which wasn't good. They came to Tatooine to be hidden but only became more obvious.

As they grew closer to the location, they saw fewer people. Those who weren't carrying blasters, many illegal, avoided this area. Not far, they could see a few ships, their style telling of Bounty Hunters. Bounty Hunting ships are usually very colourful, a warning to space pirates that they're a threat.

A few people got the idea to imitate Bounty Hunter ship styles for safe travel, but it didn't always work.

They saw a droid sitting outside without a care in the galaxy. With typical robotic movement, it pointed to the door, waiting for them.

The degenerate observed, unintimidated by Wrecker's size.

Hunter went to enter first, expecting a hostage situation.

That's not what he got, though.

Sitting on a bar table was a young clone, playing an instrument while singing some space shanty. A Trandoshan and man were singing along, playing along for the joy of it. Omega on a chair nearby, trying to learn the fun shanty with a Kyuzo. She wore different clothes and had a bowl of food in front of her.

This was a weird bunch.

The singing stopped when they noticed Hunter, but the young clone kept playing the guitar. Omega smiled, overjoyed to see her friend again. She jumped from the chair and ran to him, hugging him tightly.

"You've made some friends?" Hunter questioned, glad that she was ok.

"The Trandoshan is Bossk, that's Dengar, he's Embo, the one outside is Highslinger, and that's their boss, Boba."

Everyone had heard about that little shit.

The clone that destroyed the Endurance, who nearly killed General Skywalker and General Windu. He was the same scamp that played a part in the prison break and was nothing but trouble for the Republic. He stole, killed, captured and traded on the black market, a prominent figure in the underworld.

He had every reason to take Omega to whoever put a bounty on her but chose not to. His crew fed her, gave her shelter and new clothes. Although Hunter was thankful, he was suspicious.

"This could work to our benefit. They know more of the underworld than us, and we need supplies," Tech announced plainly, observing the Trandoshan. He was hissing protectively, though he couldn't tell who he was protecting.

Boba jumped down, eyeing the four curiously. After crossing his arms, an idea came to mind.

"Since you're protecting little Omega, you're not loyal to this Empire garbage. You're fugitives, and I'll postulate that criminal life isn't easy, hm?" He mused, finding potential profit in their presence.

"What's a postulate?" Wrecker asked, expecting an answer from Tech.

"I wouldn't use that exact word, but it's a synonym for suggest."

"Cinnamon?"

"No. It's a word that has a similar meaning to another word. An antonym is the opposite of a word, such as ice and fire."

"I hate this brainy word stuff!"

How funny, these idiots were similar to Boba's band of morons. That'll make working with them around a whole lot easier.

"Word meanings aside, it hasn't been easy," Echo admitted, feeling weird from the boy's gaze. He was looking into him; it felt violating. "You offering a hand?"

"Until I figure out what the Kaminoans want, sure. Whatever they want Omega for, I want to be in their way."

"Why?" Hunter questioned.

"Because fuck 'em," Bossk casually answered, getting an agreeing smirk from Boba.

Omega was happy to know they could stay. She liked them, even Dengar, and especially Marrok. He was so cute and fuzzy, and Embo was nice too. She wanted to play the guitar and learn how to make food. She could learn to use her blaster, so she didn't feel like a liability to the others.

She's a part of the Bad Batch and wanted to prove herself.

"Eh, what's that smell? Whatever it is, it smells good!" Wrecker announced, looking like a happy puppy. Bossk grinned at Dengar, claiming some kind of victory over the cyborg.

If it wasn't already chaotic for Hunter, it was about to get crazier.

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avasharpe · 4 years

Text

Oh Baby, Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday

Chapter: One/one

Summary: It's Sara’s first Christmas since she became blind and she enjoys the Christmas festivities and her birthday in a new way with Ava by her side.

Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Relationship: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe.

Characters: Sara Lance, Ava Sharpe, Minor appearances by Charlie, Zari Tarazi, John Constantine, Nate Heywood, Behrad Tarazi, Astra Logue, Ray Palmer, and Nora Darhk.

Chapter Rating: Teen Audience.

Additional Tags: Blind!Sara, Sara being a brat, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Trees, Kittens, Sara’s Birthday.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

Sara leaned against the counter of the island on the Waverider as she listened to Ava go on and on about her latest stab cast subject. They were making cookies for the Legends cookie exchange later that day and it was their turn in the kitchen. Ava was doing most of the work as she was the baker of the two and Sara was providing moral support and operating as a test taster regardless of whether Ava asked her to or not.

“Can you hand me the flour babe?” Ava asked, pausing her rant mid-sentence.

Sara nodded and reached out to feel the jars in front of her. Feeling down to the second jar on the left, she ran her fingers across the Braille label to read flour. Sara opened the jar and handed it to Ava.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Ava said as Sara heard her measure and poured some into her batter. “Hey so I know you gave me your list for Christmas and your birthday, but is there anything you want for your birthday and not for Christmas? It’s just I know we're celebrating Christmas first this year so is there anything you want first and something you're okay with waiting to get or anything that is more of a birthday gift?”

Sara thought about it for a moment there were several things on her list that she was eager to receive, but it's not like she would have to wait additional days to receive them

“I don't know? Whenever I get the gifts it doesn't really matter the long as I get that number one gift on my list.” Sara said as she bumped Ava with her hips as she came around to grab the food coloring. She had asked for Ava in black lingerie on her bed when she woke up.

Ava hummed and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Only if you're a good girl, Sara.”

She forgot how to breathe as Ava pressed a kiss to her neck and a shiver ran down her back. Ava moved back and walked over to the other side of the island and added a drop of food coloring to the bowls of frosting.

Sara looked down at the cookie and tried to ignore how wet her panties were. “So what do you want for Christmas, you haven’t given me your list.”

“I want a pegasus,” Ava said with a laugh. “Well, that and the serial killer’s coloring book.”

Sara hummed as Ava put the spatula down. She heard Ava move the bowl and the sound of the plastic wrap as Ava prepped the mix to chill in the fridge. Sara got a vision of Ava putting the dishes in the sink. There was still a good amount of cookie dough mix left on the spatula and Sara just couldn't let it go to waste. As her vision ended Sara reached forward to where she knew the spatula was and picked it up out of the bowl, before bringing it to her lips.

“Hey!” Ava said, having caught her, but Sara just smiled and continued to lick off the rest of the cookie dough. “You're going to get salmonella!”

“Totally worth it,” Sara mumbled her mouth full of cookie dough.

She heard Ava click her tongue before her footsteps came around to her. Ava spanked her ass before she wrapped her arms around Sara's waist and kissed her cheek.

“You're such a little shit,” Ava said, squeezing her waist. “What am I going to do with you?”

Sara smirked and put the cookie dough free spatula down on a counter before she turned around. She trailed her fingers up Ava’s arms to wrap around her neck before Sara leaned in.

“No I'm not kissing your salmonella mouth,” Ava lamented, as she pulled back her head.

“Ava,” Sara whined, tilting her head and pouting.

She tried to be adorably irresistible, but Ava untangled her arms from Sara's waist. Ava moved to push her out of the kitchen despite Sara digging her heels in. She turned around and held on to Ava’s neck hearing her giggle as she stopped.

“If you are going to continue to steal my cookie dough then you can wait outside with the other Legends and help them decorate the Parlor,” Ava said, as she trailed her fingers along Sara’s jaw to tip up her chin.

“I promise I'll be good. I'll even go brush my teeth,” Sara said, letting go of Ava and stepping away and taking a step backward.

Ava paused and Sara knew she had won her over, but resisted the urge to smirk and continued to pout. “You have to help me do the dishes and no more cookie dough eating, oh and you can't steal more than two cookies.”

“But we're making three different kinds?” Sara whined, she could smell the gingerbread cookies that were in the oven and her mouth watered.

“You already had some of the sugar cookie batter which means that you can have one gingerbread cookie when they come out of the oven and one of the peppermint swirls once they're finished.”

“Can’t I have one of each?”

“Fine, but any more, and I will revoke your cookie privileges and send you to your room.”

“What am my five-year-old?” Sara said, crossing her arms as Ava's bopped her nose before she heard Ava’s footsteps walked back over to the countertop.

“Yeah sometimes,” Ava said plainly without missing a beat.

Sara scowled but followed her back to the kitchen and helped her with the dishes. The rest of their cooking making was uneventful. As promised Ava let her have one of each cookie. Sara hated waiting for them to cool down so she pulled it apart and blew on it, taking small bites of the warm gingerbread as it melted in her mouth. Ava cuckold as she mixed the peppermint cookies and before she mixed in the eggs fished out a spoonful putting it in Sara’s hand. Sara smiled and hummed as she tasted the batter. Even at her brattiest Ava still loved her.

……………………………………………………………………

Sara's boots sank into the mud of the Christmas tree farm. She tapped her cane to either side in front of her despite how Ava held onto her arm and followed the rest of the Legends as they perused the trees. Sara pulled her coat hood up over her head more as she walked. It fell over her eyes, not that Sara cared as she couldn't see, but Ava pulled it back a tad so she could at least see Sara’s sunglasses.

All of the Legends chatted and their voices bounced around her as they all passed the smaller 5 and 6-foot trees in search of a gigantic 9-foot tree to put in the Parlor. Only a handful of them with the exception of Ray, Mick, Charlie, Zari, and Behrad celebrated Christmas. Nate was always the one who wrangled them all for the seasonal holidays but was deviously good at getting them to participate in the Christmas fun. Besides, it was Astra’s first Christmas back on Earth and there was a sense of enjoyment in getting to see her smile and admit that she was having fun. Even if her Christmas list of knives rivaled Sara's.

“What about this one?” Nate asked as they all stopped to look at it and Sara closed her eyes to breathe in the sweet smell of pine.

“It's awfully bristly,” Astra complained.

“It's not so bad,” Ava said as she put her arm around Sara's waist.

“It smells nice,” Sara said, closing her unseeing eyes to breathe in the scent again.

Without her sight this year Sara was worried that Christmas would be different and that it wouldn't feel the same as it usually did without all of the lights and the decorations. She still found that she still enjoyed the smell of pine and cranberries and whatever other Christmas scents that Zari and Nate chose for the candle of that day. She loved to feel the warm fire that Jax and Mick had installed in the Parlor. So Mick could have a proper place to burn things, despite Gideon’s insistent protest and she loved the taste of all of the Christmas goodies Ava baked. It was still Christmas, it was just a different kind of Christmas.

“Eh, moving on,” Nate commanded.

They walked around the entire farm nitpicking all of the trees and Sara let her boots squish into the mud, making a squeaking sound. Despite Ava’s protest, she giggled every time Sara did it. Eventually, everyone stopped somewhere towards the edge of the tree farm staring at Ava told her was a tall and bushy tree that overwhelmed Sara's nose with the smell of pine.

“This is the one,” Ava said, leaving in and wrapping her arms around Sara to rest her chin on Sara’s shoulder.

“Let’s cut!” Mick shouted, making the final decision and Sara heard the wrestling of the tree branches.

It was quite a fiasco to cut down the tree as all of the Legends had an opinion about how it should be done. Mick just gruffed and kept going despite Ray and Nate’s insistence that they should do it a certain way. Eventually, the tree came down and everyone took a portion of it to carry back to the Jump Ship after they paid the tree farmer.

Once on the ship, everyone went in different directions. Zari and Charlie went to grab the decorations, Nate and Mick put the tree in the Parlor, Ray and Mora went to get the lights and Mona and Behrad went to get the hot chocolate and cookies, leaving Ava and Sara to clean up the mud in the Cargo Bay after Ava made everyone change shoes. After Ava finished mopping while Sara stood there and held her supplies, Sara dragged her over to the fabricator room to get the ugly sweaters.

“Why are we doing this? You can't even see it!” Ava protested as Sara smoothed the ugly sweater over her chest. Taking the chance to feel her up, Ava grabbed her hands and forced them away. “Seriously Sara?”

“It's tradition besides they're not that bad,” Sara said giving a little wiggle and hearing the Bells on her sweater jingle.

“They're completely ridiculous,” Ava said, her tone final.

“They're fun!” Sara insisted, grabbing Ava's hand and pulling her towards the Parlor where the rest of the Legends were waiting for them. “Everyone else is going to be wearing them. It's not like you have anything to be embarrassed about.”

“Sara,” Ava whined as she reluctantly let Sara pull her along.

“Please Ava?” Sara said turning around and reaching up to cup her cheeks. “For me?”

“You're lucky you're irresistible,” Ava said, bopping her nose before she put her arm around Sara's waist and they walked arm-in-arm into the Parlor.

Everyone else was there waiting for them, all dressed in different versions of an ugly sweater, not necessarily Christmas related, but fun nonetheless. Charlie and Mick had the tree on the side as the branches brushed against her ankles. Nate and Behrad started hanging garland on the wall and Ava moved her away from the ladder. Ray and Nora came in with the boxes handing Sara one and Zari directed everyone's movements, telling Sara to place it over by the globe.

Once they got it settled in the Parlor, Zari saw it to it that they quickly got the tree up. MIck, Charlie, and Nate started on the lights, while Zari started to music which left everyone else to go through the boxes and pull things out while Sara just stood there. Usually, she'd help with the tree, but not this year.

“Hey, babe,” Ava called her over and Sara reached out and Ava grasped her hand before pulling her down to sit next to her. “Here which one do you like, Twisted Peppermint, Vanilla Bean Noel, or Winter Candy Apple?”

Ava handed her several candles and Sara held them up to her nose. She closed her eyes and breathed in each scent, trying to match one with the pine smell from the tree.

“This one,” Sara said handing Ava the Winter Candy Apple candle.

“Great, here, can you help me unwrap these?” Ava asked, putting a packaged ornament in her hand. “Hey, Mick light this one.”

Sara nodded, unwrapping the ornament before she got a vision of the tree falling over. “Hey Nate, tighten that bolt on the left.”

“Got it, Captain,” Nate said as Sara’s vision changed, to all of them all standing in front of the tree and admiring instead.

“Hot chocolate is here!” Mona announced as Sara heard her giddy footsteps on the stairs. “Sugar-free for you, Zari, extra marshmallows for you, Sara, and none for you, Ava.”

“Thank you, Mona," Sara said, bringing the warm mug up to her lips. It was just the right temperature and she took a sip of the sweet chocolate as the soft mini-marshmallows brushed against her lips.

Mona handed out mugs to everyone else and Sara scooted over to a spot next to the tree after they got all of the lights, ribbon, and bells that made it hard to hear anything else. From her spot, Ava would hand her ornaments and Sara would put them on the tree next to her. The Christmas cheer and alcohol flowed along with the music Zari had picked out, as everyone either hummed or sang along or pretended they didn't like it.

“Sara you can't just clump them all together like that. You have to spread them out over the tree,” Zari said coming over and taking a few of the ornaments from her collection.

“I like it,” Sara said, running her fingers along the ornaments and hearing them clang together.

“Let her be,” Ava said, shooing Zari away. “It looks great babe.”

“Just because you're blind doesn't mean you can get away with atrocities like that,” Zari said as if Sara's decorating skills were a personal offense.

“Why do you care,” Behrad said, shoving a cookie into his mouth, making his voice muffled. “We don't even celebrate Christmas.”

“It's the principle of good decorum and decorating,” Zari said sitting down beside her and bumping her shoulder lightly as she teased Sara.

Sara giggled and relented, scooting over to Ava, who pulled her in to sit on her lap. She and Ava unwrapped the ornaments and gave them to everyone else instead. Sara pulled out a loop of old popcorn and wrinkled her nose at the smell quickly tossing them away.

It didn't take long for them to complete the tree decorating and everyone stepped back to watch the tree lighting. They clumped together in a line at the steps of the Parlor and Sara heard Gideon turned off the lights. She put her arms around Ava and hid her nose in Ava’s sweater, hiding the disappointment that she couldn't enjoy the tree lighting. Sara remembered how beautiful it looked in her vision and it hurt that it was just a memory.

“Ready?” Charlie asked and was quickly met with yeses and eager tones from everyone else. She flipped the switch and Sara heard everyone oh and awe, but the lights didn't make a difference to her.

“Okay now the bells,” Ray said, his usual excitement filling his voice.

“What bells?” Sara asked, but before anyone could respond, the sound of bells playing ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ rang through the Parlor. It reminded Sara of the chocolate kisses commercial and she peeked out of Ava’s shoulder with a smile. The music continued before someone lowered the volume to a gentle jingle.

“We got it for you, so you can hear the tree,” Mona said wiggling in to wrap her arms around Sara's waist and giving her a side hug, soon everyone joined in for a Legend's family hug.

“Thank you, guys,” Sara said, her voice soft as she listened to the bells. It was sweet of them to think of that for her and Ava leaned in to kiss her forehead. It was the little things that they did every day for her, like the bells on the tree and making sure that Sara could enjoy things with her other senses.

Everyone stood with their arms intertwined as they watched and listened to the tree. They all settled into the Christmas spirit. With the fire burning, it was warm like Christmas, it smelled like Christmas and now it sounded like Christmas. As an adult Christmas didn't always seem like Christmas did when you were a kid, but somehow the Legends always found a way to make every holiday they celebrated special.

……………………………………………………………………

Regardless of her birthday Christmas morning had always been special to Sara especially when she was with Ava. Ava would always wake her up with breakfast in bed and kisses on her forehead. Sara enjoyed the quiet time alone with her before they joined the rest of the Legends for the Christmas presents and brunch.

This morning Sara woke up to Ava's lips on her lips. Sara instantly smiled into the kiss as Ava hummed against her lips. Ava pulled back and brought Sara's hands up to feel the lace babydoll that she was wearing. Sara trailed her fingers over Ava’s lace covered skin before she picked up the flowing tool. Although she couldn't see it the feeling of it between her fingertips was enough for Sara to thoroughly enjoy it.

It wasn't something that Ava was usually comfortable wearing. She preferred to stick to boxer shorts and tank tops, but after they had both surprised each other with lace lingerie and Ava had grown more comfortable wearing it. Since then she had occasionally worn it, but the lace lingerie was for Sara's eyes only.

“Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Captain Lance,” Ava's husky voice rang in her ear as Ava kissed her neck.

Sara pulled Ava over on top of her. Feeling her girlfriend's weight on top of her as Ava’s taller form settled above her.

“Is this one of my presents?” Sara asked as she smiled and played with the lace tool

“It is,” Ava said, guiding Sara's hands up to feel every inch of what she was wearing. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Sara eagerly said, before she pulled Ava in for a kiss and stripped off her sleep shirt.

After Sara had thoroughly enjoyed Ava in her lace babydoll outfit. They put on the matching pair of pajamas, which Ava told her were red and white striped, with green trim. Sara didn't mind them as they were soft and warm flannel, that smelled like cinnamon and frankincense, no doubt at Zari's hand. They walked hand in hand into the Parlor and Sara smiled as she heard the bells get louder the closer they got.

Everyone was there already, talking among themselves as Ray passed around cups of coffee. Rey spotted them as they came up the stairs and put the warm mug in Sara's hand. She could smell the dash of nutmeg and cream he had on top and it made her smile.

“Stop shaking your presents,” Ava said as she heard Nate try to shake one of the boxes.

“Yes Ma'am,” Nate said, hurrying to put it back under the tree.

Ava went over to help Nora and Mick move the furniture around so they could all sit in a circle. Sara stood off to the side and Charlie came over and put a hand on Sara’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“She did great last night and she’s so cuddly Ava will love her. I’ll bring her out when you're ready!” Charlie said, slipping the box into her pocket.

“Thank you, Charlie.”

Charlie gave a little squeal which was unusual for them, but Sara found herself squealing as well. The surprise Sara had for Ava was definitely squealing worthy. Charlie squeezed Sara’s shoulder and walked back over to Zari. Sara moved to sit on the couch and wait for everyone to get set up, as Nate and Behrad started sorting through the presents.

In the past Christmas, it was usually a chaos of gifts and Legends each opening everything in a disarray of wrapping paper and string strung around the Parlor. Recently they had adopted a new and more organized tradition from Ava. Once everyone had their piles of presents in front of them and they all settled in their chairs with mugs of coffee. Ava sat down and snuggled up next to her, kissing her cheek.

“Okay, who's first?” Sara said as she wrapped her arms around Ava’s waist, leaning into her.

“Astra should go first, it is her first Christmas after all,” Constantine piped up and most of the legends' verbally agreed.

“For the record, this is super weird,” Astra said as Sara heard her pick up one of the gifts from her pile. There was a rustling of wrapping paper and tearing as she opened it and everyone waited to see her response. Astra let out a small gasp that Sara barely heard as she opened the box.

“It's that dragon shaped knife she wanted,” Ava whispered to her as Sara nodded.

“It's beautiful,” Astra whispered, and as Sara heard her pick up the knife and unsheath the blade. “Thank you, John.”

“Oh yeah well it's nothing,” John said, trying to brush it off as Sara heard Zari lean in and kiss his cheek and whisper to him.

“Me next,” Nate said, tearing off the paper and opening his gift from Ray.

They continued like that, going around in a circle until everyone had opened all their gifts. Ava had described to her what they all got but Sara was surprised how many times she could guess what it was, with a little help from her vision.

Finally, Ava got to the gift Sara had gotten her and Sara smiled as she tore off the wrapping paper. Ava smiled and thanked her for the serial killer's coloring book. However, she paused as she picked up the Pegasus stuffed animal that Sara had got her.

“Babe, what is this?” Ava asked, leaning in and whispering to her.

“It's a Pegasus. You said you wanted one, remember?” Sara said, raising an eyebrow at her.

It took Ava a moment, but then she laughed and put her arm around Sara leaning in to kiss her forehead. “This isn't exactly what I meant when I said that I wanted a Pegasus.”

“Yeah well apparently the real things are just as bad as Unicorns so I figured this would be better,” Sara said running her fingers over the soft fabric of the stuffed animal.

“Well thank you,” Ava said, squeezing Sara's waist.

“You're welcome,” Sara said with a smirk that Ava quickly wiped off her lips with a kiss.

“Okay now open mine,” Ava said easily eagerly, wiggling as she placed a small, but heavy and long box and Sara's lap.

The room grew quiet as the Legend stopped chatting and Sara wondered what it could be as she tore off the paper. She lifted the lid off of the box and ran her fingers along the edge before she pulled out a single pole the length of her forearm. She ran her fingers over it, taking it in before she found a small metal button on one end. Ava pushed her to stand and Sara moved a few feet away and held it out in front of her as she pressed the button.

The pole expanded and Sara realized that it wasn't just a pole, it was both a bo staff and a cane. She could use it to see her surroundings and defend herself. Sara smiled as she swung it around, trying it out. It easily glided through the air and she tapped it on the ground with one end hitting the floor. The vibrations went up the pole and into Sara's hands. Instantly she knew that she had hit both the parlors wooden floor and a bit of wrapping paper that had been strewn there. She wasn't sure how she knew what the staff had hit, she just knew.

“Do you like it?” Ava asked eagerly awaiting Sara’s response. “It's a fully compressible bo staff and cane and the vibration you're feeling will tell you what you're hitting on the ground. All of us have been working on making it for you.”

“Ahem,” Behrad coughed.

“Okay, well mostly Behrad has been working on it, but everyone had a hand in it. Behrad, Ray, and I designed it, Mick, Mona, and Charlie helped us make it, Nora used her magic to help make it work and Zari wrapped it.”

“Thank you guys,” Sara said as she pressed the button on the end again and it easily compacted back into a simple pole. She turned around and reached out for Ava who grabbed her hand and pulled her in to sit on her lap.

“You really like it?” Ava asked, leaning her forehead against Sara’s.

“I love it,” Sara said, putting her hands on Ava’s cheeks and feeling her eyelashes flutter on her fingers.

“Good,” Ava said, leaning in and giving her a quick kiss before they turned around and watched everyone else open the rest of their presents.

There was a pile of wrapping paper in the middle of the Parlor as everyone kicked it away to play with their gifts. Sara leaned into Ava's arms and listened to the Jingle Bells on the tree and felt Ava's warm lips against her forehead.

Sara rubbed her hand up Ava’s leg and patted it three times. Then waited to hear Charlie get up and walk over to them.

“Hey, Captain do you want any hot chocolate?” Charlie asked as they came around and put a hand on her shoulder.

“That would be great, thank you, Charlie,” Sara said, sending them a wink that she hoped Ava wouldn't see as she heard Charlie scurry away.

Ava was completely unaware of the surprise there was for her and Sara smiled as she leaned against her, biting her lip knowing that her smile would give it away in a minute. It didn't take long for Sara to hear Charlie come back as they came up behind them and placed the box in Ava's lap.

“What's this?” Ava asked as Sara sat back and put a hand on her shoulder.

“It's your last Christmas gift,” Sara said, trying to keep her excitement under wraps as and she could hear how the room went quiet around her. Of course, all the Legends were in on it.

Nonetheless, Ava took the lid off of the box and Sara heard her gasp as the tiny cat meowed. The kitten that is mostly gray with patches of white and meowed before she heard Ava pick her up and hold her close. All of the Legends cooed and came closer Sara had caught them playing with the kitten last night and they were all very much smitten with her.

“Oh my goodness Sara,” Ava said, breathed out as the cat meowed again. “But you hate cats.”

“I don't hate cats,” Sara said, leaning in and holding Ava’s hand against your cheek. “I just don't prefer them but I know that you love them and we all agreed that she would be the perfect pet on the Waverider.”

“Oh my goodness,” Ava said again, as Sara could hear the kitten begin to purr in her arms as Ava laughed.

Sara ran her fingers along the cat's back as the cat arched its back up to meet her fingers. Sara then pulled the collar from her pocket and handed it to Ava.

“What do you want to name her?” Sara said already knowing the answer as Ava had a list of names she loved.

“Nicole Haught,” Ava sheepishly whispered.

“Everyone, met Nicole,” Sara said as she clipped the collar with Nicole’s name around their neck and the little bell rang as the cat scratched at it.

“Thank you,” Ava said, reaching out to cup Sara’s face.

Sara smiled and moved away as Ava’s hand slipped off her face as she got down on one knee.

“Oh my God,” Ava said, getting up and standing in front of her as Sara quickly took her hand.

“Ava Sharpe,” Sara said, taking a deep breath. It was hard for her not to get choked up.

Ava meant so much to her and she wanted this to be perfect. There were a hundred things that Sara could say about how Ava always tried to be there for her, to listen to her, and Sara wanted her to know how much it meant to her to have Ava’s help as she Sara adjusted to being blind over the past year, but Ava already knew all this. She didn't need some big speech, all she needed was for Sara to ask.

“Will please marry me?”

“Yes,” Ava said, choking on her tears as she held her hand out for Sara. She slipped the ring on Ava’s fingers. It was a simple gold band that was engraved with intricate Nordic runes that reminded Sara of their first date.

All of the Legends cheered and clapped as Sara stood up and pulled Ava in for a kiss. Although it wasn't New Year's, Sara felt an explosion as they kissed. It was electric and exciting. They let their lips linger against each other until Nicole meowed in between them and Ava pulled back to pet her head.

“What does my ring say?”

“Co-Captains for life.”

“Thank you,” Ava whispered against Sara’s lips kissing her again and Sara let her lips smile against her as Ava moaned into her lips, to the hoots and whistles of the Legends.

……………………………………………………………………

“Okay, ready?” Ava asked as she guided Sara down to sit in her seat at the table in the kitchen of the Waverider.

“Yes,” Sara said, wiggling excitedly as she felt the heat from the birthday candles rise up and touch her cheeks.

“Okay everyone, happy birthday to you,” Ava started singing and the rest of the Legend quickly joined in as Sara smiled.

She could smell the pink sugar frosting and had to resist the urge to dip her fingers in the cake in front of her knowing that Ava would slap her and away.

“Happy birthday dear Sara, happy birthday to you,” everybody finished singing and clapped as Sara leaned down to blow out her candles.

“Happy birthday baby,” Ava said, leaning down to wrap her arms around her shoulders to hug Sara from behind.

Sara leaned in to reach for a frosting flower but was surprised when she fell Ava’s finger smear frosting all over her nose. Sara laughed and turned her head to spread the frosting from her nose on to Ava’s cheeks.

“Sara!” Ava shrieked and laughed as Sara kissed her cheek and licked the frosting off.

“Umm Happy birthday to me,” Sara said, licking her lips.

Ava trailed her hands down Sara's chest teasing her while the rest of the legends cut the cake and slipping her hands around Sara’s inner thighs. Sara's breath hitched as Ava's fingers brushed against her center.

“Save that attitude for later Miss Lance,” Ava whispered in her ear. Happy birthday indeed.

……………………………………………………………………

(I just want them to get married already!)

#Sara Lance #Ava Sharpe #Avalance #DC's Legends of Tomorrow #legends of tomorrow #DC #Charlie LoT #Zari Tarazi #John Constantine #Nate Heywood #Behrad Tarazi #Ray Palmer #Nora Darkh #Astra Logue #my work #my writing #my fanfics

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