#the fact that they both ended up BACK in the same 'verse is hysterical

[pastafossa]

I'm not gonna lie... I'm very excited that you'll write for Frank Castle. The Punisher cast has a very special and sexy place in my mind ☠ A special shoutout to our baddie Ben Barnes who played Charlies father in Star Dust and now doesn't look anything like him anymore

I'm excited too! I legit love Frank, and I loved Jon's portrayal of him. He's also not a type of character I've had the opportunity to write with before so that's always fun! In addition to rewatching DD S2 I'm planning to go give him a rewatch on Punisher to sorta solidify who he is in my head. We're starting to find a rhythm though in my practice scenes, which is a good sign.

And yes, definite shoutout to Ben Barnes! 😂 I was showing Stardust to my mom last month and I'd totally forgotten he was Charlie's dad in that. I was like !!! ??? Even funnier now that they're in the same universe again and yeah, look nothing like each other now LOL.

[robininthelabyrinth]

CQL-verse! The characters have the same age gaps between them as their actors and actresses! Wwx and Jyl are the same age, jc is 5 years younger than them. Lxc is 3 years younger than wwx&jyl and lwj is 3 years younger than him. Nmj is two years older than wwx&jyl and nhs is 8 years younger than him and the same age as lwj. (1/2)

Meng Yao is 2 years older than nhs and jzx is 2 years older than MY. I'm leaving the Wen Sibs out of this because otherwise WN would be the same age as wwx and WQ would be 4 years younger than him. But hey! If you want to go with that, go crazy! I was thinking more of Yunmeng Sibs focus, but I will be happy with anything! (2/2)

ao3

Untamed

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect to the point of death and war, but he had always had trouble hating sad and gentle Wen Ning.

Wen Ning was technically his peer – there were only two years between them in age – and therefore capable of the same sorts of responsibilities and duties towards righteousness as Nie Mingjue, meaning that he ought to hate him as much as all the rest. But at the same time, Wen Ning was only part of the main branch family indirectly, a ward of Wen Ruohan; he was constantly suppressed and even tormented by Wen Chao, the eldest son of that family. If anything, it seemed almost as if he’d been brought into the family just to act as the family’s scapegoat, the inferior copy that was so hapless that he made that self-indulgent hedonist Wen Chao appear somewhat competent in contrast.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t imagine treating any of his own cousins that way.

He and Wen Chao were often compared, both being about the same age, and their young brothers were of similar age as well, both of them only fourteen; this juxtaposition made sure that every single person in the cultivation world talk of them in the same breath. Nie Mingjue always came out the better in the comparison, and Wen Xu the same for his, which in the minds of most people balanced out, but which caused Wen Chao no end of rage. He knew he couldn’t take out his anger on the talented Wen Xu and so took out on poor Wen Ning instead.

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect.

He did not hate Wen Ning.

Wen Ning, who should not be here.

“Please,” Wen Ning said, nearly in tears, as he threw himself down to the floor in front of Nie Mingjue. He’d burst into the room in the inn Nie Mingjue was staying at, the guards that no sect leader could do without no matter what they wanted following close behind in alarm until Nie Mingjue had waved them off with a gesture; he’d been panting so hard that he’d only just now caught his breath. “Please help this useless older brother do one good thing with his life.”

Alarmed, Nie Mingjue reached out and caught Wen Ning by the shoulders, pulling him to stand and even forgetting himself enough to reach forward with a sleeve to dab away the tears staining the other man’s face.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling anxiety curdling in his gut. He’d spoken with Wen Ning before during the discussion conferences, both when he was younger and even, in a few stolen moments, after he became sect leader; he knew Wen Ning had a steady personality, if a weak one from all the bullying he endured, and that he was not given to unnecessary hysterics. If he could tolerate Wen Chao’s endless torment with a faint smile and a don’t worry sect leader Nie once you’re used to it it’s more funny than anything else, then what could make him act like this? “What is that you need help with? I do not understand.”

Wen Ning looked tired. He always had, his health had always been poor, but now it seemed worse than ever; there were circles under his eyes, and Nie Mingjue had no idea how he’d managed to get away from the Nightless City to come find him. The town he was currently in was close to the border the Qinghe Nie shared with Qishan Wen, but it was still an effort, especially for someone like Wen Ning. He might be a member of the Wen family by name, but his freedom was significantly curtailed, and it wasn’t only because he was sickly.

“My little sister is going to be attending the lectures at the Cloud Recesses,” Wen Ning said.

“The - Lan sect lectures?” Nie Mingjue repeated blankly. It was a stupid thing to say; of course it was the Lan sect’s lectures, who else would give lectures at the Cloud Recesses? And yet, at the same time – “The Wen sect hasn’t gone to them in generations.”

“Sect Leader Wen asked A-Qing to look for something,” Wen Ning said. “I don’t know what. He talks to her more than he talks to me, when she’s treating him with acupuncture and other such things – he only wants blood relations treating him now, so she’s passing along what she can do, the doctors all say she’s talented – he told her something, I think, but I don’t know what, he doesn’t talk to me…and she doesn’t talk to me, either.”

“She’s sixteen, they’re like that,” Nie Mingjue said, trying to offer comfort, but he didn’t like the sound of that – Wen Ruohan growing reliant on the medical skills of a teenager, talking with her as if she were an adult…it didn’t speak well to the Chief Cultivator’s state of mind. “So she’s going to go spy on them?”

“She is. And maybe more. There’s – there’s something back in the Nightless City, something Sect Leader Wen is refining in order to increase his power. Whatever it is, it’s powerful and evil.” Wen Ning looked paler than usual, somehow. “It was something that was kept in a cave near our village when we were younger, once. Sect Leader Wen took it away to study, and it made something go crazy, I got hurt, and my parents – anyway, it doesn’t matter. I can’t go near it without losing my senses, so I really don’t know anything about it. But I know that Sect Leader Wen only has a piece – and the Lan sect has another.”

Lan Xichen had never mentioned such a thing, but then again, he wasn’t really old enough that Nie Mingjue would expect him to know everything about his sect – he was after all a full five years younger than Nie Mingjue, three years younger than Wen Ning; he was still only seventeen, having only just graduated from his uncle’s classes the year before. He was only very technically sect leader, in the same way Nie Mingjue had only been technically sect leader after his father’s death, although unlike Lan Xichen Nie Mingjue had fought his way to step up to the task for real early on. He himself was only barely considered an adult at the age of twenty-two; it was no surprise that in the Lan sect, which had Lan Qiren to rely on, Lan Xichen might not know it all.

Or perhaps he knew, and simply didn’t say. Each sect was entitled to its secrets.

“What are you thinking?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“I’m thinking that my sister is constantly afraid for me, even though she’s younger than me,” Wen Ning said solemnly. “I’m thinking that she will break her own principles into pieces to protect me. I’m thinking that she’ll find whatever it is, or find a hint to it, and then Wen Chao will take his forces to burn the Cloud Recesses to the ground in search of it.”

Nie Mingjue could see that.

He didn’t want to, but he could.

“My brother is attending those lectures,” he said blankly. Nie Huaisang was there right now. He could be in danger – no, he would be in danger. Nie Huaisang wasn’t a good cultivator, and at fourteen, he was just a baby. Nie Mingjue had sent Meng Yao with him, nominally as his attendant, but in fact to get the benefit of the classes himself and also bully Nie Huaisang into actually learning something – he’d brought Meng Yao into the Nie sect after Jin Zixuan, full of guilt over how his father had treated a boy only two years his junior, had sent him a letter beseeching him for help following Meng Yao’s public and humiliating rejection from Jinlin Tower – but Meng Yao was only sixteen, of age with Wen Qing; what could he really do?

Moreover, sending Wen Qing and not Wen Xu, even though Wen Xu was the same age as Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji, indicated that Wen Ruohan didn’t want his more promising son to get involved in whatever it was that he was planning, or maybe in whatever consequences followed. If Wen Chao really were to try something violent, they couldn’t afford to have a weakness already there…

“I need to get A-Qing out of the Wen sect,” Wen Ning said, and Nie Mingjue turned to look at him in shock. “Permanently. I’ve begged her to go, but she won’t leave me, she won’t leave our family of the Dafan Wen, but she has to. Something bad is going to happen soon. I know it. I don’t mind trading my life for hers, but she has to live.”

“Is there any way you can go to the Cloud Recesses as well?” Nie Mingjue asked, his mind already racing. He’d long ago given up on helping Wen Ning because he knew the other man wouldn’t turn traitor against his family, being an upright and filial child, but if his family had reached such a depth of corruption as that, then it was only right to leave them behind. If Wen Ning was finally accepting that, maybe there was something he could do. “You’re sensitive to the – whatever it is. Right? Maybe Wen Qing can suggest bringing you around to help her find her way to it.”

“How would that help?”

“It gets you somewhere safe, while I can rescue Dafan Wen – without a threat to you or to them, your sister would have no reason to insist on staying,” Nie Mingjue said, though it wouldn’t be him, exactly, that did the rescue – he’d need a firm alibi lest Wen Ruohan use it as an excuse to start something with his Nie sect. He might have prepared for war as much as he could, but the Wen sect was still stronger; if war broke out, he needed to make sure that he had the moral high ground.

Luckily, Wei Wuxian, that walking calamity of a head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, had of late developed the habit of wandering over to visit various other sects, including Qinghe (and Nie Mingjue in specific), at his leisure, and no one ever would think to blame him for such a strange thing as a subsidiary sect of distant Wen sect cousins disappearing.

After all, Wei Wuxian had no reason to know or care about the Dafan Wen, and everyone knew he abjured politics completely, violently and repetitively, so as to make no mistake about anyone who might otherwise see him as competition for the Jiang sect’s true heir, Jiang Cheng. The five-year gap between their ages kept them from being compared – you couldn’t expect a child, and at fifteen Jiang Cheng was still very much a child, to keep up with an adult just turned twenty like Wei Wuxian – but there had always been whispers given everything with Cangse Sanren, and Wei Wuxian had had to work very hard to put a stop to them.

Wei Wuxian’s wandering habit had started back when he’d been trying to find Jiang Yanli a new fiancée to replace the engagement he’d broken by fighting with Jin Zixuan, however shameful it was for him to fight with a boy two years his junior. It was for that that he had come to Qinghe to meet Nie Mingjue, leading to them hitting it off as friends despite Nie Mingjue expressing that he had absolutely no interest in getting married to Jiang Yanli, or indeed to any nice young lady at all; then, in turn, Nie Mingjue had brought him to the Lan sect to meet Lan Xichen. They’d gotten along as well, although the most notable outcome of that visit had been little Lan Wangji developing a crush on his elder brother’s new friend while Wei Wuxian remained blissfully oblivious. His wanderings had continued even after Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had found their way back to each other, affianced once again through their own choice rather than their parents’.

Said parents had not yet been informed of this new situation, as they were waiting for the right time to mention it. Or perhaps more accurately, the right situation to exploit with it…

Now, Nie Mingjue thought. Now was the time. It would work perfectly.

And not just as a distraction.

“Are you sure…?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said. “Whatever it is, Wen Ruohan must be kept from obtaining all of the pieces; he’s already too powerful, and more power will only make him more arrogant. I’ll speak with Lan Qiren. Once I take the Dafan Wen back to the Nie sect, your sister will be able to testify to whatever it is that she was asked to search for, which will give Lan Qiren the evidence he needs to get his sect’s approval for retaliatory measures. Moreover, using Wei Wuxian to help me will force Jiang Fengmian to support me as well; there’s no way he’d ever refuse to back him to the hilt.”

“The Jin sect –”

“Will join us,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan’s yet-to-be-announced engagement. Once Jin Guangshan realized that he would be pulled into the same boat as the rest of them whether he wanted to or not, any resistance he had would crumble like a structure made of sand being beaten down by the tide. “They won’t have a choice. Is there anything else I should know?”

“There’s a child,” Wen Ning said, biting his lips. “Around the same age as your brother or my sister, or maybe the Jiang sect heir, I don’t know, around that. He helps Sect Leader Wen with whatever he’s doing.”

“A child helps him?”

Nie Mingjue didn’t like the sound of that.

“I don’t know. Some secret his family knows, I think…his surname is Xue.”

Nie Mingjue frowned.

“I don’t know much about him,” Wen Ning added. “Only that he has some history with the Yueyang Chang clan. Bad history.”

“That’s a good start,” Nie Mingjue said. He realized that he hadn’t yet released Wen Ning’s shoulders, and gave them a small squeeze before doing so. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will do everything I can to help you.”

Wen Ning looked at him with admiration in his eyes, making Nie Mingjue feel a little hot under the collar.

“Thank you, Chifeng-zun,” he murmured, and Nie Mingjue shook his head.

“Call me by name,” he said, and tried to smile. “You’ll be here a lot in the future, if all goes well.”

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect, but he didn’t hate gentle and sad Wen Ning.

He didn’t hate him at all.

[silent-silver-slip]

Hello I am being a self indulgent brat and making the whole server deal with it

May I request the band finding Aurora as a living breathing dragon and trying to deal with looking after her, featuring Julie being like WE DO NOT HAVE A MANUAL FOR THIS

thank you for your time I will go away now 😂

It might've taken me a few days Angie, but I did it! You now have two stories featuring JATP and Aurora. Only one of them contains Julie, but you get Carlos as a trade off.

For those of you curious, Aurora is this fantastic dragon that Angie made, and you can see her in the picture below.

And this is Firefly, who gets a mention in the second fic.

The two fics I wrote for this are below the line. The first one is set in a somewhat canon compliant verse and the other is set in my urban fantasy JATP verse (which you can find on ao3).

I have a friend in you

If there’s one thing that’s remained constant—other than music, of course—it’s the beach. They’re on the boardwalk rather than the sand, as otherwise they’d be walking on the sand. Except they can’t just walk on the sand because it’s soft and makes walking hard and Reggie will complain after ten minutes or so. So it’d make more sense to walk in the firm sand by the sea, except then Alex would start talking about all the potential dangers of walking in the ocean.

Which is why they’re on the boardwalk despite being ghosts. Though, to be honest, Luke doesn’t mind it. It’s nice to walk in the waves when the weather’s hot, but it’s not really warm enough to do that today. Walking along the boardwalk lets them be around people, both those casually walking around and those busking.

Luke’s so caught up in the atmosphere and grinning at the people around him, knocking shoulders and hands with his boys, that he doesn’t see it at first. Reggie does.

“Is that…?” Reggie trails off, freezing beside Luke. Luke turns to look at him, frowning in confusion. “I’m gonna call her Maddy the Magnificent.”

Turning, Luke looks towards where Reggie’s looking—it’s a little bit of distance away and-

“Why are we giving her a title?” The words fall Luke’s mouth without his input. It’s only after he’s said it does he manage to actually recognise what he’s staring at. Sitting by the shore is what could only be a dragon.

The dragon isn’t asleep. The first thing Luke notices is how her head’s up and alert, eyes focussed in their direction. From the distance he’s at, her eyes only look black—dark things like shadows at their darkest. The next thing he notices is her size—she’s maybe just smaller than a truck, but with how she’s lying down, it’s hard to tell. Her head’s a light blue with fins—ears?—spread out wide on either side of her head. The blue grows darker, though, as it moves further down her body, a navy colour at her paws and at the tip of her tail, which is curled gracefully around her body.

The dragon yawns, showing off very sharp teeth, and stretching her wings—which shift from a dark blue at the top of the wing, to going purple then grey then white at the ends of her wing membranes. Luke has the strangest feeling that the dragon is watching them. He’s not sure how to feel about that.

“Have you seen her?” Reggie says, breaking Luke from his thoughts. “She looks magnificent! She deserves a title!”

At last, it seems like Alex has clocked onto what Luke’s staring at and what Reggie’s grinning at. “Nope,” he announces, seemingly to the world in general. “There is not a dragon there. I do not see it. I am Sir Not Seeing Shit. There is NO DRAGON! I cannot deal with there being GHOSTS and DRAGONS.” When Luke chances a glance at Alex, it seems he has decided to close his eyes. Luke wishes it was that simple.

“There’s a dragon there,” Luke says, just as Reggie takes off in the direction of the dragon, “and I need you to deal with that because we’re about to lose Reggie to the dragon.”

That has Alex snapping his eyes open. By then, though, Luke’s already pulled away by a stride. Thanks to his long legs, he catches up to Luke quickly. Together, they manage to reach Reggie before he gets within range of the dragon who has very sharp teeth and eyes that are staring at them.

“This is for your own good,” Luke tells Reggie from where he’s sitting on his bandmates back. Reggie makes a sound of muffled complaint.

Alex pets Luke’s back from where he sitting on Reggie’s legs to keep him from running.

“Let me pet the dragon,” Reggie whines. “You wouldn’t let me get a puppy! Surely, surely, a dragon is easier?”

Alex makes a horrified sound. “What if it’s a ghost dragon? Oh God, what if it’s angry? Searching for revenge?!”

“Hey, do you reckon Julie knows about the dragon?” Reggie asks, completely ignoring Alex’s questions.

However, Luke has a terrific realisation. “Let’s go home and ask,” he says, glancing at Alex and winking subtly.

“If she doesn’t know, I’m sure she’d love to learn about this dragon!” Alex adds, quickly catching on.

Reggie hums, slightly doubtful. But then he’s nodding into the sand. “Let’s go tell her,” he agrees.

One POOF later, they’re back in the studio.

And so, Luke is finds, is the dragon. Except, this time the dragon’s more the size of a large cat and is curled up on Julie’s piano in the sun, looking very content with life.

Luke looks away from the dragon breaking the rules—Julie’s told them no one’s allowed to stand on the piano unless she gives the go-ahead—to his bandmates. Alex looks like he’s going to cry and Reggie seems overjoyed. Neither of them seem to resemble the well of confusion that Luke’s got going on in his own mind.

“She’s a stray,” Reggie says, thankfully not taking towards the dragon—is it the same dragon? Can dragons shape-shift? Should Luke be worrying about the structural integrity of the piano and whether it can stand up to a dragon? Oh God, he’s beginning to take over Alex’s job of overthinking everything.

“She needs a home guys,” Reggie continues. “We have to look after her.”

“We don’t know how to look after a dragon,” Luke points out, reasonably, even if his tone is more hysterical than he’d like.

However, when he looks at Alex for back up, he’s met with the sight of Alex slowly but surely melting, and giving in. He can watch as the thoughts play across Alex’s mind. He fiddles with the hem of his sweatshirt, the zips on his fanny pack, which means he’s thinking at how stressful this is going to be and overthinking everything. Except then he glances at Reggie, at the dragon, and takes to tapping a beat against the fanny pack instead. Just like that, Luke knows he’s lost. Alex turns to him, and says, “What if she doesn’t have a home, Luke?”

And, well, Luke knows a thing or two about being homeless—leaving home, finding another one, and he just gives up, gives in, and throws himself in with his boys. “We don’t know how to look after a dragon!” He protests, but it’s weak, and he’s just watching the dragon. It’s official, the dragon is theirs. Or, well, as theirs as a dragon can be.

This is, of course, the moment Julie decides to enter. She crosses over to them, then pauses, realising what they’re staring at. “Is that a dragon on the piano?” Then, with a shake of her head, she adds, “And do we have a manual for this one?”

As one, the boys turn to her. “Please?” They whine, all puppy-dog eyes and pleading expressions. Beneath the weight of it all, any willpower Julie has crumbles.

Hands on hips, she turns to the dragon. “Well,” she says, ignoring how the boys grin beside her, clearly picking up on her decision, “I wonder how we’re going to look after you.”

That seems to wake the dragon up, she lifts her head, uncurling from where she’d been lying down. She stands, back arching like a cat, wings stretching upwards. “I can look after myself okay,” she says. “I’m Aurora.”

Julie screams. The boys scream. They all scream, clinging to each other.

Aurora preens at their praise. She’s very pleased to see how excited they are at getting to know her. She has clearly decided to find some great friends for herself.

Let our wings carry us

There are many things that the boys are equipped to deal with, and many things they are not equipped to deal with. As it turns out, dragons are not one of their talents.

“Luke, do something!” Alex says, from where he’s standing behind Bobby. Reggie stands behind him, so they’re in single file behind Bobby—except for Luke.

Which is, of course, because Luke’s a little bit stuck at the moment. “Help!” Luke yelps.

Alex glances around Bobby’s shoulder and, despite his fear of the dragon in front of them, he can’t help but laugh a little bit. Even Bobby is grinning, and when Reggie looks, he outright cackles.

“Stop staring and help me!” Luke complains, shoving ineffectively at the horse-sized dragon surrounds him, rubbing against him like a massive cat, purring. It would be cute, if she wasn’t as massive as she was. As a result, Luke’s kind of just drowning beneath her love as his traitorous bandmates gather around and laugh at him.

He shoves at the dragon, being careful to not catch on her wings or anything. As close as he is, it’s hard to really tell what colour she is, but her wings start purple then shift to grey and then to white. Her scales, on the other hand, are blue—moving from a light sky blue at her snout to a dark blue at her tail and paws. He’d probably think her beautiful, if not for the fact she’s trying to stop him from breathing!

“Get off,” he says, shoving at her neck again. Her scales are smooth but solid beneath his fingers.

The dragon pauses when his fingers catch beneath her ear fins, then decides to lean heavily into the movement. Caught unaware, Luke almost falls beneath her weight, then realises what she wants, and finds herself scratching at the scales. He’s not entirely sure she can feel it, but she presses into the feeling, tilting her head.

The sound of a shutter overhead has him frowning and looking up. That’s when he realises that his bandmates have been suspiciously quiet the last few minutes.

It turns out that’d been for a reason. “Hey Luke, keep smiling and scratching the dragon! It’s important.”

“Yeah,” Luke says, gazing up at Reggie who’s precariously leaning over, sitting on Alex’s shoulders, holding Bobby’s expensive camera. The only funny thing about this is that Reggie’s tongue is sticking out. “I’m sure it is.”

The shutter goes off again and Luke sighs. Beneath his hands, the dragon’s body begins to vibrate like she’s purring. “At least you love me,” Luke tells the dragon. She purrs louder, body rumbling with the sound. It’s almost like being in one of those messaging chairs—except there’s no chair and it’s not really comfortable and Luke doesn’t actually know how he’s going to escape the dragon’s hold. She might be perfectly happy about it, but Luke’s starting to get hungry.

“Do you guys have any idea how to get me out of here?” He calls up to Reggie.

“Julie’s on her way!” Bobby reports, and the boys cheer. This results in Reggie almost dropping the camera, over-balancing to get it, Alex almost tripping, and Bobby launches forward and manages to catch Reggie just before he hits the ground.

From where he can see the chaos between the gap between the dragon’s head and her backend, Luke sighs. Honestly, it’s mildly impressive none of them have gotten seriously injured considered the things they do.

Somewhere nearby, there’s the click of a car parking. “Ray’s home!” Reggie reports, gleeful and sounding completely recovered from his near-death from falling off Alex’s shoulders.

Luke is so, so hopeful that Ray can fix this problem for him. Ray might not be Julie, might not have her powers, but Ray seems to be capable in the face of anything that comes his way.

The dragon suddenly freezes, lifting her head and Luke thinks that maybe she’s going to finally move and he can escape! Except, the dragon sniffs the air, sticks out her tongue, chirps, and then vanishes in a burst of light.

“No,” Reggie breathes out. “That’s-”

“Not our problem anymore,” Bobby decides, marching over to Luke who is now free! He checks Luke over, before frowning, fierce in the way he gets only about his friends and music. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Okay, but what if someone steps on her?” Luke says, and he doesn’t really want to deal with this. But she’d kind of been cute. In a massive, dragon way. Bobby sighs, loud, but doesn’t stop Luke as he bends down, encouraging the little lizard—that had been a dragon only seconds ago—onto his finger.

The dragon—lizard?—chirps and climbs onto his hand. She’s not overly small, rests comfortably on his hand, and her eyes are dark. She’s got the same pattern as her dragon counterpart had—just without the wings. She seems to smile up at her.

“I don’t want to tell you how to live your life,” Alex says as the boys crowd around the dragon-lizard-thing in Luke’s hands. “But also, what the fuck are you doing?”

“She’s so small,” Luke says, cooing, and Reggie runs a gentle finger down the maybe-dragon-lizard’s back. “Look how cute she is!”

“She will ruin our floors,” Alex counters.

Reggie hums. “But look how cute she is, Allie!”

Groaning, Alex responds. “We can’t have a lizard, we have Pan! And two kind of cats! They might be skeletons, but I feel like we should not test whether or not they’d eat the…” He trails off, frowning down at the creature in Luke’s hand.

“The dragon,” Reggie says helpfully.

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, “that.”

Before they can continue discussing what to do with the maybe-a-dragon-maybe-a-lizard, Carlos appears. “Oh, a lizard, neat!” He squeezes his way into the group, holding out his hand to the shape-shifting dragon.

The creature-that-is-probably-a-dragon immediately scrambles onto Carlos’ hand, where she stands proudly. She lets out a hiccup of fire before chirping. Luke exchanges a frantic look with the others. “Neat!” Carlos says again, grinning down at the fire-breathing animal he’s holding in his hand. “I’ll let her join Firefly!” And just like that, he’s off heads towards the house and to where the open enclosure that Firefly lives in in Carlos’ bedroom.

“Should- Should we tell him?” Bobby says, as they all watch, not moving, as Carlos enters the house. “That she’s a dragon?”

Frowning, Luke considers that hiccup of fire he’d just seen. He feels like he’s seen that before… “Aha!” He remembers. Turning to the others, he points at them, “I told you I saw Firefly breathe fire that one time! I wasn’t lying!”

Reggie hums. “That seems pretty weird,” he says. “Lizards don’t breathe fire.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just have some bad hotdogs?” Bobby asks, all pitying. For that, he gets an elbow from both Reggie and Alex, since he’s trapped between them.

Luke turns his gaze to Alex, his last hope. Surely one of the others will believe him! Alex, however, just shrugs. “You must’ve been imagining things,” he says, like they didn’t all just see a dragon shape-shift into a lizard and breathe fire.

Luke doesn’t quite scream, but it’s close. “Julie’s my favourite,” he announces, turning on his heel and definitely-not-stomping towards the studio.

“We know!” Bobby shouts. Luke ignores the snickering coming from behind him, but he can’t stop the smile curling onto his face. That’s okay though, no one’s paying any attention.

[kiseki-no-scenarios]

Akashi Seijuro - If Only - Chapter One

Here is the first chapter of the multi-chapter Akashi fic I am working on!! I’ve outlined the plot so I will try to update in a timely manner, but I often struggle with writing multi-chapter fics because they take longer time to do. 

There will be heavy angst in this story, but rest assured that there will be a happy ending!! I hope you enjoy!

---

The sight of your majestic husband, now pale and with perspiration beading across his brow, laying in his bed brought you to your knees as you let out a sob, gripping onto his slackened hand with both of your own, unable to hide the tremor that rocked your body. Akashi’s body was trembling, his breathing stuttered and weak as he fought against the poison that was ravaging his body. You wanted to turn your eyes away from the living nightmare in front of you, but your eyes were committing each and every moment of his torture into your mind

Your knees ached as they hit the floor hard, the pain banished to the back of your mind as you took in the sight of Emperor Akashi, the crimson red of his robes a stark contrast against the deathly pallor of his skin. You had never seen your husband like this, and the fact that it was your fault drove your mind nearly to madness. It should have been you laying on the bed, fighting desperately, clinging to life.

You ignore the yelps of your ladies in waiting as they tried to move you up to your feet, ignoring their attempts at placing a cushion underneath you. The pain was barely a fraction of the guilt that you felt, and you wanted to cast your entire body across your husband, hiding him from all the torture and pain of the tangible world. Surely, this was just a dream, right?

Your fingers gripped his hand as you murmured his name, Seijuro, Seijuro dripping past your lips like a mantra as you pressed the back of your hand against your forehead. How you wished you could transfer to him your very own life energy, so that he his wounded flesh would stitch together again in front of your eyes, chasing the poison that gripped his body.

The chattering of the many doctors and government officials in your husband’s room all faded to the background as you looked into the eyes of the only man you had ever loved, would ever love in this lifetime and all the ones that would follow. His chest was still rising and falling, that he was still hanging on to life-but the thread was oh so fragile, apt to snap with even the smallest of pressures.

The flow of blood from puncture wound of the cursed arrow where it had pierced his back through his chest had finally been staunched, but the polluted miasma of the curse spilled out in waves, barely visible to the eye. The poison that was coursing through his veins was working slowly, but steadily and unrelenting.

At this rate, they said he only had a few days, if that.

The wounds that he had suffered from battle were relatively light, and Akashi was to recover quickly, they estimated. The war had been won easily, and you were excited to have your husband back home, for the two of you to continue with your lives together. It had been too long since Akashi had held you in his arms, too long since his lips had pressed against yours. Pacing in the entrance hall, you recalled the feeling of excitement and relief as you heard the triumphant sounds of the army returning home, lead by the crimson Emperor who had lead them all to victory.

It had been yearning that you could no longer hold back as you watched him cross the threshold back to your home, the palace. Without thought for your own safety or his, you had rushed to him, wanting to take him into your arms.

But Akashi was always alert, and his senses never failed. You’d never even heard the arrow coming, only being aware of its presence when it had burst through Akashi’s chest, in a brilliant blossoming of bloody red that quickly stained his armor.

The arrow that was meant for you had lodged itself within Akashi’s body, and you’d never forget that moment for as long as you lived, the images flashing behind your eyelids every single moment that you closed your eyes. It was as if that moment was tattooed, etched permanently into your flesh, a never-ending reminder of what your impatience had wrought. Perhaps if you had waited, perhaps if you had stood where you were…surely, your husband would have reacted soon enough to dispose of the archer, without flinging his body in front of yours like a shield.

Midorima cleared his throat behind you, and turning, you immediately began to sob at the look on his face. “No, no, no…”

Shaking his head, Midorima uttered the words that caused your heart to seize. “I’ve brought the True Loves End.”

“You…you lie, there HAS to be an antidote.” Your voice is shaky, but you know your words are futile. You were a healer, well versed in the art of medicine. One look at Akashi’s wound, and you knew that the antidote was not something you could easily compound in the limited time you had left.

The curse itself had been altered, a task that required the use of dark magic. As this particular poison and it’s resulting curse almost guaranteed death, it required an offering of the same cost.

Your assassin had murdered an innocent life to target your own.

“Your Highness, you and I both know that there is simply no way we can acquire the antidote. Even if we were to slaughter each and every one of those rebels, that would still not give us the solution we desire.”

“I don’t care!” You screamed, terror and rage breaking through your desperation, clawing up your throat. “Kill…Kill them all!” You turned to Aomine. “Why are you just standing there, Daiki?!”

The dark haired male gripped the handle of his sword hard, refusing to meet your eyes. “The Emperor is still my direct command, your Highness.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” You hissed, shooting to your feet as you lunged at the Commander, your magical energy gathering in your palms, responding to the pained call of your heart. “I demand that you raze them all to the ground. Not a single one is to be left standing, or I will strike you down right where you stand!” Going haywire, your magic was lashing out, burning Mibuchi’s hands as he held you back. Your magic, normally meant to calm and heal was reacting to your emotions, daring anyone to get close lest you strike them down where they stand.

“_____.”

Your head whips around, another sob breaking through at the sight of Akashi, his face turned towards you. His hand was lifted in your direction, his palm facing upwards. “My beloved Empress, please. It hurts me to see you so enraged and filled with hate.” A soft smile was on Akashi’s lips, looking at you with adoration although you knew just how much pain he was suffering through. Even at a time like this, his first instinct was the comfort you.

“What am I supposed to feel, Seijuro?” You lash out, losing all sense of composure as you cover your face with your hands. “Never have I felt so much rage…I would burn this world to the ground for you, Seijuro.” You felt utterly useless. Akashi had done so much for you throughout your life, yet you always felt that nothing you could do would be able to repay him for all the happiness he had brought to you. For your loved ones and your dear friends, you’d die for them…but for Akashi, you’d kill for him.

Your vision is blurry as you continue to sob. You vaguely feel Mibuchi shushing you quietly, leading you back to Akashi’s bedside as he holds your hand. You can feel the rough callouses of his palm and fingertips, from years of practice with the sword and bow. There was still strength to the way he gripped your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of your hand. The delicate affection of Akashi’s touch only made you want to cry harder.

“Remember who you are, _____.” Akashi says, his voice gaining strength as he watches you, adoration in his eyes. “You love this country, more than I do. Your hands, your magic, are meant to heal. Please, do not dirty your hands for me, my love.”

Your magic settles in response, too afraid to lash out in fear that you would worsen his wounds. “…You always said that you’d do anything for me, Seijuro.” You whisper, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his as he closes his eyes. “Why can’t you let me do that for you…?”

“I know you better than anyone. Even if you feel nothing but anger right now, I know you would soon regret your actions. And nothing would kill me to see you drowning in guilt.” Dry lips press to yours as you continue to seek out his kisses. “Besides…You’ll scare Seiji.”

The mention of your son brings the pieces of your mind back together slightly. Rubbing your eyes, you pull back from your husband as you look around the room, noticing that most of the crowd had dispersed, leaving only your closest confidants and guards behind. “Seiji…is he here?”

“He’s outside with Nebuya. I didn’t know if you wanted him to see you quite yet…” Kise bit his lip, the normally cheerful blonde frowning and his lips trembling as he held back the emotion that threatened to burst through.

Thank god your ten-year-old son didn’t see his father struck by the arrow. You couldn’t bear it if your son had to bear witness to the nightmare that you had seen, knowing how fragile his heart and mind was. He was as intelligent and strong as his father, often referred to as a perfect copy of the Emperor. But you knew that your son had a soft heart, like you.

“Please, keep watch over him for now.” You nod your head gratefully at Kise. You weren’t sure if you could keep your composure completely yet, and Seiji needed his mother to be there for him, without collapsing into hysterics.

The sound of Akashi coughing brings you back to the situation at hand, and you eye the bottle of medicine that Midorima has set down on the table side. You weren’t sure what was worse…in your eyes, it was just as much of a poison, if not more, than the current one that wracked Akashi’s body.

True Loves End…An antidote that could cure any poison, but at great cost. While the receiver’s memory would be spared, their emotions would not; all of their feelings of love and desire would be robbed from them.

Akashi would live, but you were not strong enough to imagine a world where your husband did not smile at you, did not embrace you, much less one where you wold be without his love.

To you, that felt like a death sentence more than any other.

“…Will you take it?” You whisper, closing your eyes out of fear. It was at times like this that you realized the full weight of what it meant to rule a country, to take upon the needs of the many before the needs of ones own.

“…You may think of me terribly selfish, but I do not want to.” Akashi states, his lips kissing your eyelids as he gently asks you to open them, gazing into his beautiful, crimson orbs. “I want to live my final moments, with all the love I have for you. I want you to be the very last thing I see in this world, my love. But…”

You knew what he was going to say. You knew, just by looking at him, and as much as you wanted to close your ears and hide from the world, you had to see it through.

“I want you to choose, _____. I have been selfish many, many times in my life. You have always been selfless, giving so much to me and to our people.” Akashi smiles at you. “I know this is a terrible burden upon you, but please…My Empress, please be selfish with what you want.”

“Don’t ask me, Seijuro…” Your voice is raspy, dry and hoarse from all the crying. “You know what I want to say, what my heart wants…”

You wanted the same thing. You wanted all of Akashi’s love, until his very last breath. But you were not just a woman, and Akashi was not just a man. He was an Emperor, and you were an Empress.

If Akashi were not to survive…your son was not ready to take the throne. The country would be thrust into a period of post-war instability, and try all you would, you knew that you alone did not have the power to guarantee peace. The answer was not simple, and it felt like claws were dragging themselves down your chest as you came to grips with what had to be done.

“You asked me to be selfish…but I can’t.” Your voice trembles as your mouth speaks the words that your heart did not want, but your mind was clear. “Not with the lives of millions in the balance. Not with the stability of our country on our shoulders…You know what my answer is, Seijuro. You’ve known from the beginning.”

Akashi smiles peacefully. “I did. That is why you are my Empress.”

If only I was just a woman, and you were only just a man.

You couldn’t be weak. Not when Akashi was suffering the most of them all.

Wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your robes, you lay the palm of your hand over Akashi’s forehead, allowing the soothing healing magic to lull him into a restful sleep. Right now…he needed to rest, to conserve the strength he still had left.

Akashi held your gaze until his eyes finally closed, the even rising and falling of his chest confirming that he was asleep. You gently tuck his arm underneath his blanket, kissing his forehead before finally pulling back and rising to your feet.

“Daiki…I’m sorry for threatening to strike you down.” You murmur. “It was said out of anger.”

“I understand, your Highness.”

“Reo, I’ll get you some cream for your burns later.” You walk over towards the door, hearing your bodyguard following after you.

“I don’t mind, having some scars may make me more attractive to the ladies.” You appreciated Reo’s attempts to lighten you mood, but you could only manage a weak smile in reply.

Opening the door, your gaze immediately falls upon your son, crouched in the hallway. “Seiji…”

“Mother!” Seiji immediately locks gazes with yours, and your heart clenches in pain at the way he looks so much like his father. “How is father…?”

“All will be fine. Seiji, what have I told you about your posture?” You gently chide him, taking his hand in yours. “Come, let us walk in the garden.”

Seiji follows you obediently as you lead the two of you to the Emperor’s private gardens. Normally, the sight would easily bring you peace and relaxation, but you felt far from that at the moment.

“Seiji…do you remember what I’ve told you about being a ruler?”

“Yes. We must sacrifice for our people, as that is who our powers are to be used for.” Seiji replies, his crimson orbs meeting yours.

“Your father is going to sacrifice something very, very dear.” Holding both of his hands in yours, you look down at your son. Soon, his height would overtake yours.

You observed Seiji’s face for any signs of his reaction. You tried to keep your tears together, but at the sight of your son, trying so hard to keep his gaze composed you reached forward, pulling him into your embrace.

Your arms tightened around him, and you cried, for your son, for your husband, and for you.

“Seiji…I promise, your mother will give you all the love in the world.” You sob. Your son’s shoulders were still small, and his small shoulders would soon have to carry the burden of the world upon them. “I will love you, enough for both your father and I.”

“Mother…”

Seiji’s voice is lost to the wind as you cry into your son’s shoulder, your heart preparing for the dark days to follow.

To be continued--

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[indigowallbreaker]

if you're still taking the kiss prompts: dorothea/annette and #12? i just want the sweet singing ladies to interact and be adorable together! thank you.

(this is the cutest thing. sorry it took so long, I wanted to make sure I did right by this prompt because it’s so -screaming-)  

12. Kiss on the nose

The dining hall was filled with the usual sounds of chatter, laughing, Raphael begging for an extra roll from the kitchen staff, forks against plates, the kitchen staff sighing in exasperation, and chairs being pushed back or pushed in.

But today, there was also singing. Singing followed by bouts of hysterical giggling.   

Dorothea and Annette sat at the end of one table, Dorothea with her head thrown back in mirth and Annette hitting the tabletop. “Y-You think the next line is ‘stuck in earth, a great heist’? How does that make sense?!” Dorothea was able to ask.

Annette wiped a tear from her face, gasping for breath. “I learned if from someone with a strong northern accent! T-That’s how it always sounded to me! ‘Struck from a great height’ makes so much more sense!”

“Oh, Net, you couldn’t have even gotten the amount of syllables right?”

“I’m sorry!”

Their laughter continued, both ignoring Felix rolling his eyes down the table. Dorothea had transferred to the Blue Lions house because she was curious about Professor Byleth-- but Annette, among other Lions, were making the switch so enjoyable. Who knew the little book worm had a voice?”

“Okay,” Dorothea said once they had calmed themselves, “do you know... Ah! Do you know “The Windy Weaver”?”

Annette’s cheeks turned pink. “Uh, kind of? I heard it once a long time ago.”

“You know that one, Annie!” Mercedes slid in beside them, smiling encouragingly at Annette. “You sang it all the time back in Fhirdiad!”

“I... well, I kind of know it?” Annette admitted. She didn’t look at either of them, favoring the sight of her cleared lunch plate.   

Dorothea nudged her. “Are you starting to think you misheard some of those lyrics?”

“Okay, okay! I made up the last verse!”

Mercedes and Dorothea stared at her.

Annette’s face was now completely red. “I heard it a long time ago and didn’t remember all of it but I liked the melody so I made up my own lyrics for the end. That’s what I always sang, Mercie. I don’t know the real song.” She looked exactly like a kicked puppy. Annette slumped in her seat as Dorothea and Mercedes shared a look over her head. With a soft smile, Mercedes nodded.

“Hey, Net?” Dorothea nudged her again. “Can you sing it for us?”

On her other side, Mercedes took Annette’s hand. “Please? I think I like the song even more now that I know I learned your version!”

The blush had not gone away but after a moment, Annette nodded. Down the table, Dorothea noted with some satisfaction, Felix was no longer scowling. In fact he had stilled as if concentrating.

Taking a breath, Annette began to sing. Dorothea joined in with the first part of the song but dropped away once Annette got going. She confidently sang the incorrect lyrics. But no-- they were the correct lyrics. To Mercedes and Annette, this was how to song went. Dorothea closed her eyes to listen. Annette’s version wasn’t even close but the notes were the same and, if she was honest, the intention of the lyrics matched the ones Dorothea knew. 

Annette finished just as the bell rang for class. Mercedes, Annette, Dorothea, and Felix did not move even as the dining hall as one began clearing their dishes. At last, Dorothea stood and kissed Annette right on her bright pink nose. “You have a gift for words, Net. I think I’ll start singing that from now on.”

With a wink at the flustered girl, Dorothea left the table to head to class. She pat Felix on the head as she passed, causing him to jump and glare at her, which she answered with another wink.

(Give me all the kiss prompts, i want them all)

[eryiss]

Event: LGBTQA+ Month hosted by @ft-wwtdp​

Ship: Fraxus (Freed Justine x Laxus Dreyar)

Prompts: Blame, Temporary, Queen, Air, Leaving

Verse: Victorian AU

Alternate Places To Read: Fanfiction, Archive of our Own. Event master list here.

Here’s my fifth group of one shots for the LGBTQA+ month. You can read rest in the master list linked above. This is set in the victorian era, and has some minor period typical values. Nothing graphic, but be wanred of suggestions of a less accepting time.

Day Twenty-One – Blame (And Thanks)

It was all that blasted Bickslows fault.

He had been the one who invited Laxus to his home for a night of drinking and cards. He had been the one who first left the house while alcohol burned in his blood. He was one the who had thought it would be hysterical if the two of them went to Magnolia's richer district to make a fuss while drunk. He had been the one to pick up the first stone and toss it down the street. Bickslow was to blame for all of that.

Unfortunately, Laxus had been the one to fall into someone's front garden. To crash into an ornamental plan pot and shatter the thing. To wake the resident.

The woman who owned the house was nothing short of ferocious, with startlingly pink hair and a broom brandished in her hand which she wielded as a weapon. She yelled into the night, threatening Laxus and claiming he was a vandal. It had been then when Laxus had recognised her, and she had recognised him. She was Porlyusica, Makarov's doctor, who knew him well. He couldn't just run from her like Bickslow had, meaning he had to deal with the consequences of his drunkenness.

That was why he was there at eight in the sodding morning, cleaning her pathway with a rag and a bucket of water.

It was humiliating. Laxus had always seen himself as a man among boys, both in stature and personality. He had worked from childhood to provide, earning his keep and making himself into a grandson to be proud of. And now he was on his knees, scrubbing a damn patio as some form of weird public revenge. Furthermore, he would be doing so for the foreseeable future. His supposed punishment was that he would do any chores the old witch wanted for the next month; something his own damn grandfather had suggested.

He was going to kill Bickslow when he next saw him. The bastard was probably without any form of punishment, despite being the instigator of it all. He'd get a black eye for his troubles when Laxus next saw him, he was without doubt of that.

But for now, he needed to grit his teeth and bare it.

As he scrubbed against the patio tiles, he grunted. He hadn't previously considered how difficult it would be to get dried bird droppings out of stone, but it was now becoming the only thing he could think of. He was too engrossed in his task to notice the sound of a carriage pulling to a stop behind him.

Only when a short cough could be heard from behind him was Laxus alerted to the presence of another man. He turned to see someone who was undoubtedly noble, if the creed of his clothing was telling. He stood tall and firm, with long green hair and an expression that was a mixture of amusement and elitism. The slight quirk in his eyebrow showed a small sense of superiority, and Laxus was conflicted.

This was both the type of man he wanted to punch, and to push against a wall and kiss.

Of course, he shook off the idea as soon as it came to him. His… urges were something that were nothing but trick of the mind. It was simply that he had never laid with a woman and the urges of being a man were getting too overwhelming, leading him to be rather desperate.

The lie wasn't convincing, not even to Laxus, but it was all he held onto. Because he couldn't desire men in the same way he was meant to desire women.

"Sorry, sir," He mumbled, standing up to move out of the man's way.

"I wasn't aware Miss Porlyusica hired a house boy," The man commented, voice smooth and calm.

"I ain't exactly a house boy, sir," Laxus corrected, wincing. Was the man high enough in nobility that he shouldn't have spoken.

"So you just enjoy cleaning old ladies' homes? Rather an off pastime, I'd insist on getting paid if I were you," The man chuckled, seemingly amused.

"Well, erm, y'see I caused a bit of damage to her property and doing jobs around the house for her is how she's making me pay her back. I ain't got enough actual money to fix what was broken so, this was what she wanted," Laxus explained.

He didn't know why he was speaking. This man, whomever he was, could easily have walked past him, tutted at him and looked at him like he was a piece of dirt. Porlyusica had many visitors already that had done the same, so perhaps it was the fact that this lord seemed willing to say anything that made Laxus suddenly willing to speak. Or perhaps it was the way his face took on a slightly arrogant, but not entirely unkind expression when he grinned.

But it wasn't that. It couldn't be that. Laxus had made a damn good effort to put thoughts of the sort to the back of his mind. Some lord with a slight slither of generosity wouldn't change that.

"And how long will this agreement take place, might I ask?"

"Till the end of the month, sir," Laxus continued.

"Then we'll be seeing rather a lot of each other, I suppose," The man mused aloud. "I pick up my fathers medicine each day, you see. Rather a pain, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry sir," Laxus looked down. "About your pa, I mean."

"Don't be, he could be dying today, and I doubt I'd grieve," The lord said bluntly, and Laxus furrowed his eyebrows. "He's a horrid old man, set in his ways. The only reason I'm here rather than a servant is because he's trying to prove a point of some kind. He wishes to scare me away from independence by making me do a singular errand each day. To keep me in his pocket, I assume."

Laxus didn't say anything at that. He had never been privy to men of a higher statue, other than walking past them in the street, and didn't know if such honest evaluations of one's father and his intentions were normal for rich men.

"It won't work, of course. I'll be out of his house the moment I can," The man continued. "But he seems insistent. You take a man to bed from time to time and suddenly your father acts as though you're his property. Its laughable."

Laxus averted his eyes at that, now truly speechless. Take a man to bed? There was no double meaning that was any more innocent than what it seemed, and the man had said it so carelessly. Some men would call the authorities immediately if they heard that, others would deem the lord a target for a beating. Was the man so confident of himself that he cared not about the repercussions. Maybe having enough money gave him such confidence.

Laxus wondered what it would be like to be so fearless about that. He wondered what it would be like living in privilege. He wondered why the man had let his preferences in partners known to Laxus of all people.

"I should get inside. The old woman can be testy when it comes to timekeeping," The man smiled. "Good day."

"G'day sir," Laxus nodded.

"Oh please, call me Freed," The man, Freed, requested. "I greatly look forward to seeing more of you, sir."

He tipped his hat, and walked into the building. Laxus looked on at him with wide eyes, surely he hadn't just been the recipient of flirting. Not so brazenly, and with a man below his station. That was impossible.

But, despite that, Laxus felt he should thank Bickslow, as well as blame him.

~~~

Day Twenty-Two – Temporary (For Now)

The situation wasn't meant to last this long.

Freed's house had been positioned awkwardly beside the Thames river, and because of that was occasionally at risk of flooding. It hadnt been a problem until the previous springtime, where the rain was seemingly endless. The river banks had been breached, the streets had been flooded, and Freed's house had been damaged to the point where it was no longer liveable. Until it was rehabilitated, Freed had needed to find somewhere temporary to live.

That was where Laxus had come into play. He had inherited a house of his grandfather that had two separate bedrooms, one that had been unoccupied. He had offered Freed the spare room to rent for a short while until his own home was back to a liveable standard.

At least that was the story people had been told.

It was almost entirely true. Freed's house had been damaged beyond the point of it being possible for him to live there. Laxus did have a spare room which he wanted to rent out. The lie came in the fact that Freed, rather than using the spare room he was paying for, he rather occupied Laxus' own bed, alongside the man. That was the part of the arrangement that neither man wanted people to know.

The two mee had met just under a year prior, at a bar that catered mainly to men of their preferences. They had drunk together, talked together, and advanced their relationship to something more physical. Therefore the decision to have Freed move into Laxus' home was the logical decision to take.

It made enough sense as a story, that two platonic men would move in with one another. Freed was a journalist and Laxus a private investigator, so a friendship wasn't impossible. To everyone else, it seemed like one friend was helping out another.

And they were. Just with the added benefits of something akin to matrimony.

But lately, Laxus had heard that Freed's house had been getting closer to a liveable state. He knew that this was meant to be temporary, and that he shouldn't have gotten used to waking up with his lover wrapped around him, but he had. He had gotten used to it almost immediately, and he wasn't anywhere near ready to give it up.

"Freed," Laxus said as they ate their supper. "I've a suggestion to make."

"Of course," Freed nodded. "Go on."

"Well, I mean, you living here had been… well, I never expected something like this to happen. And I'm not sure if I'm ready for it to end. I was wondering what you would think if we considered the possibility of us staying here, the both of us."

"You wish for me to live with you permanently?" Freed asked.

Laxus nodded, feeling a little nauseous now he had spoken. He had never been in a relationship – men were his only interest, and it wasn't likely for him to find someone who shared that – so he had never been in a situation like this. Making this more of a permanent arrangement was something he wanted, but was it appropriate for him to ask his lover the same. Did Freed even see this as a relationship, or was it just a convenient way for him to get to bed.

That thought left a further sick feeling in his stomach. He had been told that men couldn't have relationships with other men, and perhaps that was true. Maybe Freed just wanted a warm bed with a willing man inside of it, not anything emotional.

"It's interesting you've mentioned that," Freed continued. "I did think about the same thing myself, though I hadnt said anything as I didn't want to intrude on your home."

"Honestly?" Laxus asked, hope now fluttering inside of him. "You'd wanna live here."

"If you'd have me, of course," Freed said, smiling softly.

The look on his face was a small thing, but it made Laxus feel utterly stupid for thinking that Freed wanted something without emotions. Because the two of them weren't just bedmates, they were something closer. They shared interests, had talks about their lives, and cared for each other deeply. Thinking otherwise had been a moment of madness.

"Of course I'd have you," Laxus grinned, heart beating fast in his chest. "I mean, I don't know the logistics of it. People might start askin' questions-"

"We could just say that you needed the money of an occupant, and I couldn't continue to maintain a household by myself, and this seemed like the obvious thing to do," Freed smiled, before admitting sheepishly. "I may have been thinking about this for a few weeks."

Laxus grinned further, looking around. The curtains for their kitchen – it was their kitchen now, not just his – had been drawn tightly meaning nobody would have any chance of looking inside them. He reached across the table, took Freed by the cravat, and pressed their lips together.

The kiss was intense and passionate as a kiss can be when both men were reaching over a table, and Laxus smiled throughout all of it. After realising his preferences for men as a teenager, he had resigned himself for either a life alone or with a woman he couldn't truly love in the way he wanted. He had thought he would be a lonely man, without real connections, but that wasn't going to happen.

Because he had a man he loved, a man who loved him. And that man was going to live with him; this would be the house he shared with him. They were going to be as close to married as two man could get, and the feeling set fireworks inside of his stomach. As did the kiss. Freed's kisses always had such an effect on him.

"So," Freed chuckled. "If that's an indication of the future, I suppose living with you has its perks."

"Oh," Laxus grinned, heart thudding. "You have no damned idea."

~~~

Day Twenty-Three – Queen (And Her Staff)

For perhaps the first time in his career, Laxus was scared of his job.

Being head butler for the Justine Estate was a relatively simple job. His main duty was to make sure the rest of the staff were performing their jobs as well as they could, while also maintaining the luxury of a manor house as best he could. He awoke the family at their chosen times, delivered them their food, and did what was asked of him. It was a damn simple job, helped by the fact the family seemed lacking the complete arrogance and eccentricities of their ilk.

Other than the oldest son. But he was Laxus' lover, so the butler could look past that.

But today was different. Because, despite being a modest family in their actions, they were influential members of Fiore. They owned vast amounts of lands, and the father of the family was in line to be king. Admittedly, it was unlikely, given twenty-seven people needed to die for that to happen, but it did mean he was important.

And that level of importance had led to them getting a royal visit. The Queen was soon to visit for an afternoon, and that apparently required a large amount of planning. Today, the Queen's personal staff were coming to make sure the house was good enough for her majesty to visit, and that the staff were trained well enough. Given his position as the head butler of the household, if anything was seen as lacking, it was to be his fault.

He was less than pleased about that.

Despite his nerves, he went about his regular day. He woke the family up – ignoring the smirk that damned intolerable Freed gave him when Laxus discovered he had slept without his nightshirt; he was still blushing as he left the room – and then walked to the kitchen to specify the family's desires for breakfast that day. Overall, it was going well.

Until of course the royal representatives came. It was an overly exaggerated affair, with each member of the family and all of the staff required to greet them. Even the coach they arrived on seemed to pronounce how superior they felt.

After introductions, they were to be shown a tour of the house. Laxus had been forced to give it.

There was a lot of what Laxus considered to bit nit-picking. Anything so much as a slight crease in the sheets of a bed was exaggerated to the point where Laxus felt he was being accused of treason. The main perpetrator of the unneeded criticism was the castle's head butler: Rufus Lore. A pretentious and arrogant man with long blonde hair, a sneering expression, and a face that Laxus could only describe as incredibly punchable.

But all he could do was stand there and allow himself to be chastised, as he was representing the Justine household. He cared greatly for his employers, and knew that this visit needed to go well. So he would just take the criticism on board, and absently fantasise about drowning the smug bastard in the lake.

He had fully planned to keep himself calm, had the events of the kitchen not happened.

Part way through explaining what they could cook for her royal highness's visit, one of the kitchen staff had dropped an empty plate. It was Rufus' fault, given that he was standing right in front of the oven – which was being used – and the staff had to attempt to work around him as he out-right refused to move away.

"That level of incompetence wouldn't be allowed if you were part of our staff," Rufus had commented, and Laxus already gritted his teeth at that. "I expect that's the same here."

He wanted them to fire someone who had been working at the house for over twenty years, all because he felt himself too important to move out of the way and let them do their job. That was apparently the breaking point for Laxus.

"You ain't exactly making it easy for them to do anything, are ya?" He muttered, losing the charming tone he normally spoke to while working. The kitchen staff looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?" Rufus turned to Laxus with an expression that one might wear if someone had called their mother an unsuccessful trollop. "I don't know who you think you are, but I can assure you that any form of disrespect aimed towards any member of the royal party is seen as a great offence to everyone in the country. Now forgive me if I'm wrong, but as a representative of the royal family, I should be shown the same respect that you would show the Queen herself."

He continued to shout, and Laxus found himself clenching his fist by his side. This idiot had to have a damned high opinion of himself if he thought he deserved the same respect as actual royalty.

Unbeknownst to Laxus nor the man who chastised him, Freed Justine had walked into the kitchen. He had heard the yelling from outside the door – particularly the part where his staff had been insulted as laughably incompetent – and that had been enough to get his interest. Because he cared for his staff, and refused to allow them to be demeaned in such a way.

When he saw Laxus, it was clear his lover was losing patience. Freed knew he needed to get involved quickly, as Laxus could lose his job if he acted out against the royal visitor. Luckily, Freed had no such repercussions to contend with.

"Good sir," He said, his sharp authoritative tone cutting through Rufus' yelling. The room looked at him. "Please explain to me why you are yelling at my head butler."

"He claimed-"

"Don't use that tone with me," Freed demanded, voice poisonous. "And you are to refer to be as 'sir' at the very least."

"Well sir," Rufus continued, and Freed knew his irritation was making his manners slip even now. That was what Freed wanted. "Your supposed-"

"Did I say I was finished," Freed demanded walking towards Rufus with a glare. "I am a lord of this state and you will treat me thusly. Just as you may think my staff are a reflection of this household, you are a reflection of her royal highness and her family. And if this is the type of staff she keeps, then I greatly feel sorry for those close to her."

"How dare you speak of her highness in such a way-"

"And how dare you speak to my staff as you did. You are a guest in my home and as such you are expected to follow certain social rules. If you think you have the right to speak to my employees with such vitriol then you will find that you'll be out on your arse faster than you can blink."

Laxus, as well as everyone else in the kitchen, watched Freed with a slight amount of shock. The lord had often shown himself to be the most rebellious of the family, even if it wasn't obvious at first glance. But even still, lambasting a representative of the royal family was something big.

Rufus himself seemed shocked, and was apparently speechless at the fact that a man of Freed's position had said something as uncouth as arse. Laxus almost smiled at that, he'd heard Freed say worse.

"Now, you are going to continue your duties, good sir," Freed spat the title out like an insult. "And you'll be damn respectable to my staff. And if even a single one of them has anything bad to say of you, I will relay it to her majesty herself and see what her opinions of it are. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Rufus muttered, crestfallen and embarrassed. "Sir."

"Good," Freed nodded. "Mirajane, could you show Mr Lore to the dining room, please. I need to speak with Mr Dreyar."

Mirajane nodded and showed Rufus out of the door. Once he was gone, the room deflated and Freed walked to Laxus. He placed a hand softly on Laxus' cheek in a comforting and calming way, and Laxus smiled softly. Most of the staff knew of their relationship, so there was no need for subtlety.

"Take some time to calm down," Freed said softly. "If you wish to spend some time down here to recover, I'll explain to father. That goes for the rest of you, too."

"Thank you sir," Laxus nodded, and Freed removed his hand from his cheek. "And thanks, for sticking up for me."

"What good am I if I can't do that," Freed smiled. "I should go and tell father about what happened, so he's prepared. Good day to you all. And I'm sure I'll see you later, Mr Dreyar."

Laxus grinned as Freed left. It was nice to know that Freed was willing to fight his corner, and Laxus found himself smiling for the rest of the day.

~~~

Day Twenty-Four – Air (Of a Late Evening)

The coolness of the evening air hitting his face was a welcome release, and Laxus leant against the metal railing of the balcony. The room that he had just been in, despite its seemingly endless size, had felt stuffy and suffocating. It was a lot nicer out here in the garden, with a gentle wind hitting his face and no annoying women surrounding him.

To think that one of those women was to be his wife.

Of course nobody would say it, but that was what this whole party was for. Makarov had a large amount of land and, recently, it had been discovered that the land contains a large amount of copper. Nearly every mining company in the local area wanted to buy the land for the mining rights, and the party had been organised for the prospective buyers to meet the Dreyar's in a social situation. Essentially, every mining family had brought their daughters as some kind of bargaining chip, and one of them would be wed to Laxus to affirm the future relationship between their family and the Dreyar's.

Makarov had assured him that wasn't going to happen, but Laxus knew that Ivan had been the one to organise this party. And while Makarov wasn't going to marry off his grandson for business, Ivan would. Laxus just had to accept it. Even if the idea made him feel nauseous.

"Do you smoke?" A voice came from behind Laxus, making him turn around.

It was a man with long green hair, the representative of the Justine family; Freed Justine. He had escorted his sister – who might soon by Laxus' wife – and was the businessman for the family. He was a well put together man of a higher social status, and rather handsome too. He had a small cigar case outstretched, with one in his lips.

"Thanks," Laxus nodded, taking a cigar and a match.

"You looked rather miserable in there, I must say," The man chuckled, leaning against the railing alongside Laxus. "Not the typical reaction for a man with beautiful women fawning over him."

"They ain't exactly what I'm lookin' for in a partner," Laxus mumbled.

The blonde looked over the large land owned by his father, an expansive garden of beautiful grass and well-formed flower beds. He had been purposely vague about what he was looking for, as being honest about such things could often end up with one in trouble. No matter how beautiful a woman was, nor how thrilling their personality may be, that wouldn't be what Laxus was looking for. Certainly not the type of women that had come to this party.

Ironically, the only person who had piqued his interest was now standing beside him.

"I thought as much," The man smiled, and Laxus felt frozen under his gaze. "This must be rather horrid for you, then. If you don't have any interest in these women."

"I can deal with it," Laxus muttered.

"You probably can. It's a shame that you have to, though," Freed had a charming look on his face as he gazed over Laxus. "Rather a waste, you could say."

Laxus shot his eyes forward, reddening slightly and feeling almost pinned by the charming smile of the gentleman beside him. Freed really was a handsome man, and there was a slight air of contained mischief behind his smile. Laxus didn't know how he would have reacted if he maintained eye contact with a man who could make such an expression.

"If it eases your troubles, it wouldn't be a necessity for you to marry my sister, if you were to go into business with my family," Freed continued, smiling.

"Why'd she come, then?"

"Your father seemed to think it was a requirement, and my father wished to cover all bases," Freed explained. "But in all honesty, all we need is an assurance that our relationship will be," Laxus felt Freed's arm rest softy against his. "Close."

"Oh," Laxus said, reddening further.

He was almost definitely misunderstanding what was happening. The charming smile and the piercing eyes were just the eyes of someone who knew to get what he wanted, and the light presence of the man's strong body against his own wasn't anything but an accident. There was no way that the man was flirting with him. Even if the eldest Justine son was known for being a rather eccentric and non-conforming man.

But maybe he was flirting. It wasn't completely impossible. The richer the man, the less fear he held about being prosecuted. Perhaps Mr Justine was so confident in himself that he was open about his… persuasion. Laxus just needed to see further.

Maybe to indulge himself, too. He deserved it, after the night he was having.

"How would you say we make sure our family's bond is close?" Laxus asked, avoiding the man's eyes.

"Many different ways. Anything from a well-crafted contract to keep us both in line, to something more…" He thought for a moment, and Laxus could feel the man's eyes on him. "Liberal."

"Liberal?" Laxus echoed. "Sounds interesting."

"I thought you'd say that," Freed chuckled. "Perhaps you and I should thrash it out at some time. If you're willing to, of course."

Laxus' eyes widened, there was no chance of the phrasing being accidental. Nobody referred to a business meeting as 'thrashing it out' without the double meaning of it being intentional. Apparently Laxus' suggestion that he would be interested in something liberal had meant that Freed no longer seemed to be subtle. Laxus was glad for the bracing wind that would cool his heating skin.

If he hadn't needed some air before, he did now.

"I'll do what I can," Laxus said, stumbling over his words slightly.

"I'm glad to hear it. I should leave you now, give you some time to think. I understand that you don't want to go into something this large without thinking," Freed patted Laxus' shoulder, and it sent shivers down his spine. "I should make it known that I don't mix business with pleasure."

Ridiculously, it felt like a punch to the gut. Had he been taken for a fool?

"Luckily," Freed continued, amusement on his face when he saw Laxus' reaction. "I don't have much to do with my family's business. So I expect I can focus on the pleasure. Good day, sir."

Freed walked back inside, and Laxus was left with no doubt as to what Freed wanted. Nor with what he wanted with Freed, if he was honest.

Thank god he had come out for air.

~~~

Day Twenty-Five – Leaving (For something Better)

Makarov was probably more emotional than he should have been.

The news his grandson would be moving out hadn't shocked him, but it didn't make it any less a big deal. He'd always lived with his grandson since the boy's mother had passed, and now almost twenty years after that had happened, he was going to lose the man. He scolded himself for thinking like that; the young man was only going to live at the other side of the town, it was hardly another country.

Laxus was currently tying down the rest of his items to a cart, which would be pulled to his new house shortly. Helping him move his items to the cart was Freed, the man who was to be his new landlord.

Well, that was what they told people.

Makarov knew better, though. He had seen the looks that they shared when they thought nobody else was looking. He had noticed how Laxus seemed to both brighten up and relax when Freed walked into a room. He had seen the shared laughter between them when they drunk together in the sitting room. Most people would have thought they were friends, but Makarov knew his grandson better. He knew the effect that Freed had on him.

It had taken some time for Makarov to come to terms with his grandson's fondness for men. Or, just Freed, maybe. He hadn't spoken about it, hadn't gotten a clue on how he could bring it up to Laxus that he knew. But he was happy for his grandson, life was hard enough already; it was nice to share it with someone.

Freed was a good man, from what Makarov could tell. He worked hard for his money, but was caring and kind to Laxus when he could be. The type of man who would care for Laxus, but also challenge him. Perfect, so Makarov thought.

Even knowing that Laxus was going to be happy, it made Makarov a little sad.

"Could I have a talk with you Laxus," Makarov asked, getting the two men to look at him. "In the kitchen, just before you leave."

"Sure," Laxus nodded, before glancing to Freed. "Will it take a long time. You might wanna go on ahead if it does. Don't exactly wanna travel through town through the night with all of this in a cart."

"Oh it won't take long," Makarov waved the idea off. "Just a cup of tea."

Laxus nodded, and the two men walked into the kitchen. The house was small and cramped, smaller than the one Laxus would be moving to, and Makarov smiled a little at the idea. It was nice that his grandson was going to be moving up in the world, even if only by a slight amount.

The story that Laxus and Freed had told people was that Laxus had gotten a new job beside the docks, which was true. The docks were on the other side of town, and Freed's home was right next to it. Freed needed a lodger to make sure he could keep up his payments on the house, the two of them were friends, and Laxus needed to move out of his childhood home eventually. It all made sense, and most of it was true. But, Laxus wouldn't be paying for his own bed, but rather for more convenient access to Freed's.

Makarov couldn't fault that. If he could have moved in with the woman that became his wife before they wed, he would have done so.

"I just want to say," Makarov began, sitting at the kitchen table. "That I really am proud of you, brat. You've grown up to be a good man, and you'll be missed."

"Oh," Laxus mumbled. He always had been awkward around compliments. "Thank you."

"One day, you'll learn to accept a good word said about you," Makarov shook his head. "But what I mean is, I do truly care for you. More than you might think. And I know that you have to move on, but know that you'll always have a seat at the table and a bed upstairs, if you need it," Makarov thought for a moment, before continuing. "Nothing will change that."

"Thanks, Gramps."

Laxus probably hadnt picked up on the meaning, and why would he. For all he and Freed were concerned, nobody knew of the nature of their relationship. Why would he read into Makarov's words and see that he was being invited to come out with his relationship, were he ready.

"But I'm sure that you'll be fine, you're an adult after all," Makarov continued, smiling softly. "From what I've seen, you and Freed get on quite well. I'm sure being his lodger will be good for you both."

Laxus reddened ever so slightly. "I'm looking forward to it," He confessed, before realising he might have said something too obvious. "Won't have to hear you waking up and taking a piss every morning at three."

"I suppose not," Makarov laughed, and they both shared a grin.

Makarov looked at his grandson, and suddenly felt a rush of pride flow through him. He'd turned out damn well, considering everything that the world seemed to throw at him. And now he was moving to live with his lover, a man just as good as he was, and there was nothing, but pride Makarov could feel for that.

Before he could stop himself, the old man reached up and wrapped his arms around Laxus in a sharp hug. He blinked away the tears that came with the sudden rush of emotions, and patted his grandson on the back.

"You make sure he's good to you," He whispered. "You don't take any shit from him, and make sure he treats you well you understand?"

Laxus looked shocked at the man, before smiling softly. "Yeah, I understand."

"Good."

Makarov smiled, patted Laxus on the back and let him go. He'd raised a good man.

[secret-engima]

Random HCs for Some of My Verses

Future’s Blurry (the Past is a Trap) verse:

-Glaucus has no idea how he wound up with a pet mad scientist. He WENT there intending to kill Besithia, he DID. Instead he found himself with a mad scientist on his heels, complaining about not having a fancy lab anymore and needing it if he’s going to prove Glaucus wrong.

-Oh yeah, Glaucus thinks with a squint, somewhere in the whole “somehow not killing the scientist” (not that he COULD, Prompto had come from that man and if there was a chance ... well, he loved Prompto more than he hated Besithia, it would be worth the annoyance) Glaucus had said that Besithia wasn’t smart enough or skilled enough to be Really All That™. Besithia had immediately taken offense, forgetting all about his life being in danger in favor of his pride, and demanded HOW DARE. OF COURSE HE WAS.

-Glaucus had snorted something to the order of how if he was REALLY all that he would be able to make a cure/vaccine for the Scourge, not just piddle around infecting things with it and claiming to have done something NEW (the scourge infected everything by nature, essentially infecting machinery wasn’t new, it was just calculated stupidity).

-Glaucus thinks that might have been what led to his acquisition of a scientist actually. Besithia so insulted he’d been willing to defect from the empire that they both knew would never condone a vaccine for their precious Scourge just to prove Glaucus WRONG.

-At one point he has to stop and laugh hysterically over the fact that he just took out Niflheim’s R&D division at the kneecaps. By doing a slightly (SLIGHTLY) more adult version of Double Dog Daring their head scientist.

-There’s also the fact that, to get proper funding, housing, and equipment for his new pet scientist, Glaucus could no longer just subsist on bounties from Hunts and dragging Ardyn from hotel to hotel. No, he needed money, manpower, resources that couldn’t be tracked.

-Lucky for him, he was once Cor the Immortal, the guy in charge of busting illegal butts and then later in charge of the surviving population of humanity in the Long Night. He knew a thing or two about discreet resources and acquisition of funds.

-The Insomnia Underworld had no idea what hit it. It feels like one minute their going about their days, discreetly infighting between the families, laundering their illegal items, the next minute everything is being taken over like dominos by an icy-eyed TEENAGER that can’t seem to DIE no matter what is thrown at him.

-By the end of the year post getting his scientist, Glaucus had (unwillingly) re-taken his title of The Immortal and was the shadow king of the entire freaking Underworld of Insomnia and a good chunk of Lucis. Anyone who didn’t like his new rules of conduct were killed or kicked out and those who were smart enough to swear loyalty found themselves magically bound by their word (Glaucus had no idea how he pulled off that trick, he blamed the KoL and their shenanigans during the time travel). Glaucus then put some of the less scummy and more intelligent ones in charge and calmly swanned off to go back to running around the wilds taking on Hunts and blowing up Nif bases.

-The new Lieutenants in charge of the underworld on behalf of their new Underworld King all just ... kinda blinked at each other and silently asked “What Just Happened?”

-And that is how Cor/Glaucus ended up the reigning king of the Lucian underworld and Besithia got to play mad scientist in a hidden laboratory all Right Under King Mors’ Nose thank you and good night.

...

Risk the Fall (We Have Felt It All) verse:

-The others in the main cast of the first game get reborn too, don’t @ me.

-As we all know, Lightning is the new Crown Princess of Lucis and Hope is the new Crown Prince of Tenebrae, the others are also their own characters so to speak except for Snow and Serah but we’ll get back to them in a sec.

-Sazh is an Armaugh. He’s Weskham’s nephew and his new name is Sors. He’s three years older than Lightning this time around, but he STILL gets teased as the “Old Man” of the group, which he bears with good humor. He ends up being her Hand, just like Ignis is for Noctis.

-Fang and Vanille are reborn as half-sisters who look nothing alike. Fang is the elder of the two and just as Throw Hands as ever. She’s like- three-ish years younger than Lightning. Vanille is five years younger than Lightning. They don’t have the same mom, and only stumbled on each other by happenstance. They started by recognizing each other from their past life and then started comparing their current one and talking about it was funny that they both came from a fling rather than a marriage. Then they start talking about their respective moms (At least Vanille’s is dead I think? Who knows, but this way Fang gets to adopt Vanille and drag her home) and from there they talked about what little they know of their respective dads.

-And find out their descriptions of appearance and temperament described by their mothers match.

-Eerily so.

-“We’re sisters!” Vanille (who needs a new latin name btw) squeals in joy, throwing her arms around Fang, who just snorts dryly and says,

-“I swore that if I ever met ‘im, I’d stab him where the sun don’t shine. But since he gave me you ... I guess I’ll just give him a black eye. Maybe break an arm.”

-Far, far away in Insomnia, Cor pauses and reaches for his sword on instinct, sure for a moment that someone was plotting bodily harm against him. There is no one in the study but him, Regis, and Clarus however, so he shrugs it off a moment later. Probably just the nifs cursing him out for his latest mission or something.

-Snow and Serah come back as canon characters. Because I Said So.

-Luna is 8 years old when she tentatively creeps up to Zagreus/Hope, tears in her eyes, and softly asks “Hope” if she can see her sister.

-Zagreus stares at her in shock, then slowly kneels down to be eye level and whispers, “Serah?”

-She nods, blue eyes so much older than they were just yesterday before something caused her to remember, and Hope kisses her forehead before hurrying off to find his computer. Over Skype, Lightning and Serah cry for joy and sadness.

-“We’re not sisters this time,” pouts Lightning just a little.

-Serah smiles, sugar sweet and innocent, “I guess you’ll just have to hurry up and marry Hope so we can be sisters-in-law.” Both of the elder reincarnates choke on their spit while Luna laughs.

-Meanwhile, somewhere deep in the jungles of Galahd, Libertus tiredly puts ointment on Nyx’s cuts and scrapes while the grinning Ulric holds an ice pack to his black eye, “Just had to pick a fight, didn’t you,” mutters Lib, “always gotta be the Hero.”

-Nyx smiles, and Lib notices it’s that strange, far-off sad one he gets sometimes, the one that makes him look way too old and weary for his years, “I promised,” he says simply, an apology and unknowable explanation all in one. Libertus doesn’t ask WHO he promised, he knows Nyx won’t tell him. “I promised” has been his excuse since they could barely walk. Libertus isn’t sure he wants an answer at this point. Some things just aren’t for mortal men to know.

[caffeinated-yearning]

Oh perhaps I got a wee bit carried away. Here’s some follow-up to the one that byte posted a bit ago, following Oliver’s side of things since he’s the Me One. Featuring a little of Byte and a little of the byte-verse Doctor Octavius. Tagging @werewolfpine because it’s a continuation of his fit and features a little of his S/I at the end (and also because I did do a little reformatting since the doc oop)

Word Count: ~2.2 k Warnings: violence, angsty narrative tone, probably difficult to read because it’s very stream of consciousness

- but he swung a metal bar at Byte’s head- “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”-

Doc Ock’s tentacles, in constant motion, seemed to slow behind him at this new information. Rippled and writhed with the horror of it. “...Nate?”

Oliver glared at this person that wore the costume of New York’s beloved vigilante; glowered at this person that wore Nathan’s face in the New York night; felt downright malevolent at having guessed this twist a hundred times prior and every time having filed it away as ludicrous because there was simply no way that fate would have woven Oliver into Nathan’s foe. He was furious, because he should have known it even if it had all seemed just a little too poetic for the universe to do. He didn’t want it to be possible, which was exactly why he had discredited each piece of evidence and chosen to believe the thin and frail excuses he’d been handed.

“Listen,” Spider-Byte raised his hands to his chest- pressing them to his heart only leaves an opening, “I can explain. I… I know what you’re thinking.” Writhing, agony-stricken, claws and tentacles that lashed with unspent energy away from him. “Or, I guess I don’t, I never do, but… Just-.”

A hideous rattling crunching ripping and tearing as Doc Ock pulled scaffold apart. Bitter and bitter and bitterer still. “Nathan..?” And how dare the vigilante be wearing the face of his best friend and how dare he tell Oliver that he was in the wrong and how dare he be right when Oliver had always had to be the right one before?!

How the HELL DARE HE?

“wAIT! Just-just listen to me!” And Nathan ran at Doc Ock; if Ock had his glasses still, perhaps he would see the desperation in that so-human face. A metal bar swung at Nathan’s head- get him away, get us away, get me away,- and Nathan caught it and and Nathan has had this sort of strength for who knows how long at this point. “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”

Oliver hated that perhaps worst of all; that Nate was Nathan was Spider-Byte, that he wanted to talk, that he called him by that stupid diminutive nick-name that Oliver loved because Ollie was a softer version of himself, a version that he didn’t let himself be, because he’d been taught for so long that softness was weakness. That Oliver was going to be better than most, and so he didn’t have time to be soft. Hated that Nathan had kept being Oliver’s friend despite every effort of Doc Ock to destroy Spider-Byte. He hated every blasted domino in the whole tower of his life that now came crashing down around him, and every little bread-crumb that now made perfect sense.

Oliver swiped at his eyes to clear the salt and water/dropped the metal beam still clasped in Byte’s arms/lashed out to knock Nathan off his feet in the span of three seconds. Turned tail and ran, down the streets, searching for the start of where his internal map made sense and where he could start to make his way back to his dungeon-like domain.

And tomorrow, Byte-who-is-Nathan will still be in class like he has been every other time that someone was causing a problem and the Spider had to step in, and Nathan has known who I am for months, and he still tries to save me.

-

“I think I’ve made a grave mistake.”

Doctor Octavius looked up after a moment’s pause. “Well, do you care to elaborate?”

“I… I think I’ve lost one of my dwindling few friends.”

“Well, that does sound grave.” Uncle Otto pushed his computer aside, turning to his student and nephew with one part easygoing authority figure and two parts sincerity. “From what little I’ve heard from you, you really don’t have many friends to spare, even at the best of times.”

“No.” He grit his teeth, held his breath, pressed his nails into his palms with the faint hope that they might break the skin and let him focus on something else. They didn’t, of course, because he had too strong an instinct against pain. Seconds that always seemed to pass too quickly while he struggled to say anything; “I just found out… That one of the people I considered a friend… Probably hasn’t thought of me as anything more than an enemy.” He shook his head; that wasn’t quite right. Nathan wasn’t… He wasn’t like that. “Or maybe I just… Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I made an enemy of my friend. I really am insufferable.”

“Have you spoken to this friend about this yet?”

“Not… As such.” He tried to forget that Oliver/Doc Ock/both of them/all of him had reacted so violently when the Spider had taken off its mask and revealed that the enemy of Doc Ock was the closest friend of Oliver, that both halves were the same thing, that in a world of horrible coincidences this was the worst of them all.

“Listen,” Nathan raised his hands to his chest, “I can explain. I…I know what you’re thinking. Or, I guess I don’t, I never do, but…Just–”

Tried to forget that he had tried to blot it out that he had tried to get rid of it that he had tried to make it go away.

Shook like a leaf in a tempest against the emotions that he had been crushing away for years and years that burst forth at the memory- but [Oliver/Doc Ock/he/they/all] swung a metal bar at [Spider-Byte/Nathan/his sworn enemy/his closest friend]’s head- “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”-

Otto nodded, eyes closed behind his tinted glasses. “Perhaps you ought to start with that, then.” He stopped, then added; “or rather, perhaps you should give it a little more time to settle before you do that. You don’t seem to have recovered altogether from the shock.”

Oliver gave a subtle tilt of his head. A half-nod that was all he could muster with his voice threatening to crack like glass in his throat and his body barely responding to any input from the central processor/brain. His mouth struck against incoherent shapes of half-words and syllables and desperate prayers to gods he did not believe in, and was entirely silent.

“Pull that chair over and set your backpack down. There’s no reason for you to stay standing this whole time. You don’t look like you’re in any state to leave, in any event.” It was only by a very slim recollection of sensibilities that Oliver remembered not to let his backpack fall from his shoulders with a heavy thud that even textbooks would not explain. To take it off, set it down. To turn to the chair and pull it over and set it up right and sit in it and make sure the desk was clear and set his glasses aside and then to set about the difficult task of crying in front of someone that was his superior, according to the law of school, according to the law of familial structure. Ugly, a little voice that sounded like a spider or a seraph whispered in the dark of his murky mind. How ugly it is, to cry. You are… weak and ugly, to cry. And it was, in part, calculated, like all things are- this to make him cry harder so that everything would be done with as soon as possible. It was, in part, that he didn’t have any more control over the voice that seemed to be him and not-him than he had over the actions of the people of New York, who thought that he was purely evil, who thought the world of his friend who he thought the world of and had tried to harm. “Wh-what if my-- s-sins are a-already too-o much to bear-?” he asked, in as low a voice as he could, despite the tears and the snot that were going to demand his jacket be washed tonight to prevent anyone seeing that and extrapolating anything with respect to the possibility of Oliver the iron-hearted having cried. “What if I- a-am conde-emned before I ever s-speak?”

“Then the worst case scenario is that you’ve lost a friend. And think how many more people there are; you’ll find other friends. They won’t be the same, but sometimes it can’t be helped. Sometimes you just have to accept that it’ll hurt for a long time, and that there was nothing you could do to change what already happened.” Otto put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, despite the flinch that he felt even in the midst of that much of what was certainly a humiliating experience already. “But then, that’s the worst case scenario. The best case; want to guess what that will be?”

“I want to be-e a miserable herm-mit who lives in a grotto and n-ever sees the sun.”

“Then I’ll just tell you, since you’re being a miserable little hermit right now.  The best case scenario is that it was all a misunderstanding-.”

“Due to circumstance-es that I won’t g-o into, that’s not a po-osibility.”

“-Or else it will be worked out, like a couple of adults and friends ought to do. After the dust has settled, and you can talk about it without fits of hysterics.” The weight of Otto’s palm, the heat of it, the fact that Otto didn’t try to move or change the sensation at all, so that Oliver could focus on that, keep his attention on that; pull himself out of the bog by that little lifeline that had been extended. “The best case scenario is that everything goes back to normal, or as close as it can get, and your friendship doesn’t change.”

“You’re going to tell me that the most probable thing is… Something in between.” 

“That your friendship is significantly changed, and that you’ll have to both work on fixing it, or else let it fall apart.”

“Mm.” Oliver rolled his head to one side, his whole face salt-stained and puffy with the awful fact of having cried so much in so short a time. “Are you sure I can’t just change my name and live in a cave?”

“You could, but I’d hate to see my nephew go.” Otto lifted his hand, pulled it back toward himself. “So what did happen between you and Nathan?”

Oliver flinched.

“Really, you two sit side-by-side every day and you expect me to not notice when you choose to sit on the opposite side of the classroom?” Doctor Octavius tsk-ed twice. “You ought to realize that I do have eyes by now, even if I happen to wear these glasses often.”

-

| One text message from Ollie Ollie Oxen Free |

Nathan looked at the phone blankly. A week and a half of this... of avoiding each other in every conceivable way. He had just gotten to his apartment not ten minutes ago. A week and a half of seeing, occasionally, that bubble (Ollie is typing…) and watching it vanish without anything to show for it. A week and a half of Nathan being that bubble (Nathan is typing…) with nothing to show for it, until the time between Oliver’s little attempts at speaking became days apart, and Nathan’s also slowed, and he assumed that was the end of it.

And now there was an entire text message (!) from Oliver.

What the hell did he want?

‘Have you heard of the man who spent his whole life mining through a mountain range to make sure medical care would be accessible for his village? The trip around the mountains to get a doctor from the next town over took too long and as a result his wife died. In his grief, he cut a path through, so that no one else would have to die due to the length of the path that he had had to travel. I can’t remember his name, but I think that was pretty noble of him. How strange it must be, to have death be the motive for such a drastic change in the physical world? He literally moved mountains.’

Nathan read, and re-read, and tried to figure out just what the fuck this was supposed to mean, because he was tired after a long day of classes, and he still had homework, and there was a constant threat that someone, somewhere, would decide that breaking half the city was a fine way to spend a Wednesday afternoon.

But what the fuck was that supposed to mean? Obviously it meant something, because Oliver always hid his stupid feelings under layers of allegory and associative story-telling instead of being open and honest (or perhaps that was him being as open and honest as he knew how, and if that was the case he needed to learn that sometimes saying what you mean is better than metaphors).

‘I hadn’t heard of that.’ Nathan really tried to say something more, but found that no words came. Well. At least this was almost a dialogue.

‘Do you think Doc Ock will show up in the near future? He’s been quiet for a while I think.’

And if Nathan had never heard a warning before he’d still have understood that this was one.

Spider-Byte stepped out of the window, swinging through the city without a clue as to where he had to go, but knowing he had to go somewhere soon.

[artigas]

hey i recently got into peaky blinders and have subsequently plummetted down the rabbithole that is tommy/alfie... but anyway i was browsing yr posts and you claim to have headcanons and opinions on bi!Tommy, and #1 u r completely correct and #2 SHARE YR FINDINGS W/THE CLASS!!! (plz plz plz)

Aw bomb! I’d love to! Make sure to check out my fic recommendations if you haven’t already. The list could do with some expanding ( @ultraballantine has a gorgeous boxer!alfie AU in the works and @bakedapplesauce has expanded upon her ‘verse only to somehow manage to make it even more perfect). As far as bi!Tommy goes, here are a few headcanons! (homophobia cw under the break)

Tommy’s bisexuality probably made itself known early, back when he was just a kid- I like to imagine that he was raised with Freddie, that he loved him in that ambiguous, unnamed way which teetered between something too difficult to define and the love of a best friend. Freddie was almost like a brother to Tommy except in the best ways he was not- their friendship was just as important, just as natural as the devotion Tommy felt for his brothers, but carried with it none of the anxiety, responsibility, or hang ups that Tommy’s relationship with Arthur and John sometimes entailed. Both of them traversed adolescence and hormones and the development of desire at the same time. They’d laugh until their voices grew hoarse, go swimming together, sleep outside in the grass all through the summer. Sometimes Tommy’s eyes and hands would linger. Freddie’s never did. When Tommy realized Freddie was in love with Ada and that love was never, ever going to wane, something … happened to Tommy he never wanted to investigate or dissect. Even through the war and after, when Freddie’s devotion to Ada never wavered, Tommy once suspected that if he could ever dig his way out of the bottomless apathy the war beat into him, he’d find an uncomfortable aching that’d hurt- hurt in real, tangible, terrible way Tommy had no right feeling in the first place. 

When they were too young to know better, Tommy and Freddie joked about not wasting their time marrying girls when they liked each other so much better instead and John found the conversation hysterical the way really small children who are eavesdropping on something they’re too young to hear often do. He’d end up repeating it, letting it slip in front of their father that Tommy said something about boys that was really, really funny-sounding and things …. didn’t go well. Arthur warned John not to repeat it, but it didn’t do much good. None of them ever talk about the look on their father’s face when he caught onto what John was yammering on about. None of them ever talk about what happened after Arthur Sr. steam-lined to where the boys where, yanking Tommy by the arm, away from Freddie and out behind the stables. When John realized Tommy and Freddie stopped talking for the two weeks their father inexplicably spent at home- the longest he’d ever stay with his sons for the rest of their lives- he didn’t know how to apologize. He didn’t know what to do. Arthur tried to ease the tension and talk to Tommy about it, but Tommy explained he didn’t know what Arthur were talking about. Why the fuck was John acting so weird? That was the end of that.

That said, none of the Shelbys who matter have any real issue with Tommy liking other men. It catches them by surprise, maybe, when they learn that Tommy’s been seeing that strange gin-maker out of Camden Town but it makes sense, doesn’t it? It explains a lot. Romani culture can have some serious hang ups about shit like that, but they’ve never been ones to burden themselves too much with the more oppressive parts of their heritage- England fucks them over enough, the liberties of being Romani should be a balm, not a burden. Tommy’s still Tommy at the end of the day as far as Aunt Pol or any of the family are concerned.

That said, Ada is…supportive. Tommy would say too supporting, probably, by virtue of the fact that Ada actually, y’know, talks to him about things. (Secretly, Tommy feels some relief in knowing Ada’s made space for them to talk about his relationship with Alfie or other men in general. He won’t say it outright. The conversations they have are … well, pretty stunted and vague. But it’s more than he has with anyone else because Ada has always, always been his favorite)

Tommy has always been aware of his attraction to other men, but has always felt (for obvious reasons) more security expressing and exploring his interest in women. I love all interpretations, whether Tommy has indeed had experiences with men by the time he’s an adult or his attraction only ever stayed in the vague, unspoken hypothetical and never made itself manifest in experiences with other men, he’d have a wealth of experiences with women but would feel be a bit more lost at sea with other men. There’d be a lot more second-guessing, a lot more calculation versus the natural intuition he has with women. 

That said, I think being with men would allow Tommy to explore different aspects of his sexual and romantic needs- I think the idea that he wouldn’t have to be as careful with another man as he would be with a woman or that he could be on the receiving end of someone who has a bit more force backing their ability to call the shots in bed would really strike a chord with him 

(because, mind you, whether Tommy is with a woman or not, he’s never really topping anyone as far as sexual dynamics go lmao Grace was deffo calling the shots way back then and I think his sexual experiences with women he cares for are very bent towards giving versus taking, god bless) 

so ….when Tommy finally hooks up with Alfie, he gets to explore his sub/bottom-ish ways to new lengths and whew boy, after the initial panic and drama and dancing around what they both want from each other? the relief! the thrill! the gift of being able to surrender in one goddamn are of his life! 

When he’s with men, he sometimes misses women. He enjoys women. He genuinely loves their bodies, their features, the dynamic he falls into uniquely with women. It doesn’t mean his interest in men is any lesser or lacking- it’s just as good, but different. And when he’s broken through a lot of his internalized homophobia and compulsory heterosexuality, I think Tommy would like that, would feel like his capacity for men and women and his experiences with both isn’t the source of shame he was somehow fooled into thinking it was. It’s … a good thing. And his life isn’t exactly teeming over with good things so he’d like to keep this, thank you very much, and make the best of it however he can. god gave him two hands for a reason lmao catch me outside with my queer ot3 tommy headcanons

[btsqualityy]

BTS Toddler Series #15: Map of The Soul: Persona

Kim Seokjin

You got out of the car, shutting the door behind you and making sure to lock the doors before you made your way up to the front door of your house. Once you were standing in front of the door and grabbed your house key to unlock the door, you paused because you heard music coming from the other side of the door. 

“Why is he playing music when Kade is supposed to be sleeping?” You muttered as you unlocked the door before opening it and stepping inside. You set your keys, purse, and bags down on the table that was next to the door before walking towards the living room. Once you turned the corner and looked inside, you couldn’t help but to laugh at what you saw.

Jin and Kaiden were standing on top of the couch, the both of them jumping up and down as Dinoysus blasted throughout the room from Jin’s Bluetooth speaker that sat on the coffee table.

“Mommy!” Kaiden shouted as he noticed you standing in the entryway of the living room. He slid down off the couch and bounded over to you, hugging your legs tightly. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too Kade,” you smiled, setting your head on top of his head and moving his hair out of his eyes. “I see you’ve been having fun with daddy, huh?” You asked as you looked up at Jin with an arched brow.

“Lots of fun Mommy,” Kaiden nodded and Jin chuckled awkwardly as he got down off of the couch and turned the music down.

“I know that I was supposed to get him down for a nap but he asked to listen to the album and the time slipped away from me,” Jin explained.

“It’s fine,” you sighed. “Somebody still has to have a nap though,” you added as you looked down at Kaiden, who started to whine.

“No nap mommy,” he pleaded.

“Hey, no arguing,” you said firmly. “Now come on, up the stairs.” Kaiden reluctantly let go of your leg and Jin watched as the both of you trudged up to Kaiden’s room.

Min Yoongi

You typed in the code to Yoongi’s studio and waited to hear the beeping to pull the door handle, stepping inside and slipping off your shoes.

“Hey you,” Yoongi smiled as you walked over to him.

“Hey,” you replied as you leaned down and left a soft kiss on his lips. You then looked over to the small couch and saw Kinsley coloring in one of her coloring books. “Hi Kins,” you said and she looked up at you, a wide grin appearing on her face at seeing you.

“Hi mommy,” she chirped and you walked over to the couch and sat down, Kinsley promptly crawling into your lap afterwards to give you a hug.

“How was work Y/N-ah?” Yoongi asked as he typed a few things on the computer.

“Eh, work,” you chuckled. “How about you? How much were you able to get done with Kins here?”

“You know she’s no bother,” Yoongi snorted as he turned around in his chair to face you. “And I got a lot done, actually finished a song.”

“For the new album?” You wondered and Yoongi nodded in confirmation. “Can I hear it?” 

“Sure,” he nodded before turning back to his computer. He pressed a few buttons before a beat started to fill the room. “It’s called Make It Right,” he revealed and you nodded as you listened closely to the song. Once it ended, you looked up to see Yoongi already looking at you as he chewed his lip.

“What do you think?” He questioned and you smiled.

“I think it’s amazing,” you confirmed and Yoongi let out a sigh of relief. “What do you think Kins?” You asked her.

“Daddy and uncles good,” she squealed, making you and Yoongi laugh.

Kim Namjoon

You and Namjoon were in the kitchen, the both of you working on getting dinner ready while Mason sat at the kitchen counter looking at one of his picture books. 

“Joon, how many times have I told you that that’s not the way to cut a tomato?” You giggled as you took the knife out of his hands and bumped his hip with yours to get him to move over. “You’re gonna cut your fingers off one of these days, you know?” You said as you cut the tomato correctly.

“A man tries to help his wife with dinner and this is how you repay me?” He pouts falsely, making you laugh. “How about I play the DJ then?” He suggested, pulling out his phone and going to his playlist.

“Good idea,” you nodded. “Play to your strengths baby.” Namjoon smacked your ass playfully, making you gasp and glare at him. You then turned back to cutting the tomato in front of you when you heard the familiar intro music to Persona.

“Daddy’s song!” Mason shrieked and you giggled at his reaction.

“Yeah, this is Daddy’s song Mase,” Namjoon nodded as he set his phone down, moving to the fridge to grab more ingredients. You silently bobbed your head to the beat as the Namjoon on the song rapped the first verse and when the chorus came, you started to sing along but you were shocked when Mason did the same.

“The hell am I?” Mason rapped along and you froze, looking at Mason with a stern look.

“Mason, that’s a bad word and you can’t say that,” you explained to him.

“But Daddy said I could,” Mason whispered and you turned to look at Namjoon, who was smiling awkwardly.

“He’s only 2 and it’s just freedom of expression,” Namjoon shrugged.

“Exactly, he’s only 2 and when he yells that out at daycare which we both know is a very strong possibility, are you gonna pause your schedule to go get him?” You wondered and Namjoon sighed heavily.

“Ok Mase, Daddy was wrong. You can’t say that word until you’re big,” Namjoon acquiesced. 

“Okay,” Mason pouted.

Jung Hoseok

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!” Lennox yelled from the backseat of the car as Hobi drove down the highway. You then turned around in your seat and raised your eyebrow at him.

“No need to yell Len, daddy is right here,” you said and Lennox nodded.

“What is it buddy?” Hobi wondered.

“Listen to slow song please?” Lennox asked and Hobi’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Which one?” 

“With daddy, Uncle Jin, and Uncle Kookie,” Berkeley interjected and Lennox nodded.

“Oh, that slow song,” Hobi chuckled. He reached down and grabbed his phone before handing it to you. “Can you turn it on for them?” You nodded and unlocked his phone, going to his music playlists and quickly finding Jamais Vu before pressing play.

“Of all of the songs on the album, I never thought that this would be their favorite,” Hobi mentioned.

“It’s probably because they know that you made it,” you pointed out. “You know that they love any and everything that you do.”

“These are facts,” Hobi smirked and you reached over to hit his shoulder before sitting back in your seat and listening to the song. Once it was over, you picked up Hobi’s phone to try and find another song. “Any requests kiddos?” You asked and when you didn’t receive a response, you turned around to see both Lennox and Berkeley knocked out in their car seats.

“If I knew that’s all it would take to get them to sleep, I would’ve written that a long time ago,” Hobi scoffed, making you giggle.

Park Jimin

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked again as you, Jimin, and Noah walked into the members’ rehearsal room. Since the album had been released, the members had rehearsals to get ready for tour.

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” Jimin wondered as he set Noah down on the ground next to him while you set Jimin’s bag up against the wall.

“You all don’t get much done when one of the kids are here,” you pointed out and Jimin scoffed.

“Jagi, we are professionals. Sure, we love when the kids come to visit rehearsals but that doesn’t stop us from getting things done,” Jimin explained and you nodded in response as the door opened, and you looked over to see the rest of the members walking inside.

“Hey, you didn’t tell us that you were bringing Noey today,” Taehyung smiled as he picked Noah up.

“It was a spur of the moment thing Tae,” you explained and Tae nodded.

“Wanna dance with your daddy and uncles?” Hobi asked Noah and Noah nodded excitedly. You sat down and watched as Jin pressed play on the stereo system in the room, the beginning of Boy With Luv filling the room. Taehyung set Noah back down on the ground and moved him so that he was standing next to him.

You watched in silent amusement as the members attempted to run through the choreography but they kept messing up because they were too busy watching and laughing at Noah, who was trying his hardest to do the choreography like his daddy and uncles. Once the song ended and the members were laying on the floor laughing hysterically, Jimin led Noah back over to where you were sitting.

“What was that about you all being professionals Jimin-ssi?” You giggled and Jimin glared at you.

“Hush,” he said as he mushed your face with his hand, making you swat at him.

Kim Taehyung

“Tilt your head back for me Spence,” you mumbled as she let you guide her head to where you needed it to be. You had just finished giving Spencer her bath and now you were doing her hair.

“Hey, I’m home!” You heard Taehyung shout as the front door closed behind him.

“Here daddy!” Spencer shouted back and you heard Tae’s footsteps walk up the stairs until he appeared in your bedroom.

“There’s my favorite girls,” he smiled as he walked over to the bed. He pressed a kiss to Spencer’s forehead before pressing one to your lips. 

“How was your day?” You asked him as he got up and walked into the bathroom to change clothes, leaving the door slightly cracked open.

“Long,” he huffed and you smiled to yourself as you continued to comb through Spencer’s hair. After about a minute, he walked out of the bathroom fully dressed in his pajamas and then climbed back into the bed. This time, he settled on his stomach in front of Spencer, setting his hands on her little legs.

“Daddy?” Spencer called and he looked up at her, giving her his full attention.

“Yeah Munchkin?”

“Sing Kosmos?” she asked, asking for him to sing Mikrokosmos and Taehyung smiled before nodding at her and starting to sing. Spencer was so caught up in Tae singing to her, you managed to finish the rest of her hair in the time that it took him to sing the song. 

“Hey Spence,” you whispered, noticing how droopy her head was getting. “Why don’t you let daddy put you to bed?”

“Kay,” she mumbled and you gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head before Tae picked her up and carried her out of the room.

Jeon Jungkook

“Here, which one do you want to wear Angel?” Jungkook asked Ava as he held up two hangers, one with a yellow dress on it and the other with a purple dress on it.

“That,” Ava said as she pointed to the yellow dress. Jungkook sighed and hung purple dress back up in Ava’s closet. 

“Of course you’d pick the dress that can get dirty the easiest,” Jungkook muttered as he sunk down onto his knees in front of Ava, who was standing up. “Step into it,” he instructed her as he held the dress open for her. Ava set her hands on Jungkook’s shoulders and she slowly stepped inside of the dress. Jungkook then pulled it up onto her body and buttoned it up, making sure that it was on her correctly.

“Alright, hair time,” he announced with a clap of his hands and Ava whined loudly.

“No hair,” she pouted and Jungkook sighed as he stood up to grab her comb and brush.

“Hey, I’ll sing to you while I do it. Is that ok?” He asked her and she immediately nodded. He sat down on the floor again and she crawled onto his lap, looking up at him.

“House song,” she said and Jungkook laughed at her.

“You mean Home Angel?” He said and she nodded. He started to sing while simultaneously combing through her hair.

“With you, Ima feel richer,” he sung effortlessly as he quickly brushed through her hair before splitting it in half and making two ponytails in her hair. 

“Your love, your love, your love, I want that. Your touch, your touch, your touch, I need that. La lala lalala lalala, I love it,” Jungkook said as he finsihed her hair. “All done Angel.” Ava stood up and turned around, giving Jungkook a kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks daddy,” she beamed before running out of her room. 

“God, where is the time going?” Jungkook muttered to himself.

[themoonthestarstheplanet]

Bring Me the Horizon

(Two ANBU OCs get thrown into the FF7 verse, basically. Enjoy!

@secret-engima @vice-virtue @wolfsrainrules)

WARNINGS; Death, murder, Canablisim. 

Hound has never been particularly interesting in any aspect, at least that was what she would tell you if anyone had ever thought to ask her but as it was what it is it was rare for one to ask her. Of course, that might have something to do with her barely ever speaking unless it was life-or-death.

 Selectively mute, the medics had whispered. Annoyance and Disgrace, her uncles and aunts had muttered amongst themselves when they thought she couldn’t hear. Even when a few of them had even known her hearing was sharper than normal, even when she was just a few feet away from them and could hear them clear as day. 

It had never bothered her. Their options and thoughts were their own and her’s were hers. But her body, of course, could not follow the same thought process as her mind. It was instincts and brain chemistry, she knew, that made her flinch away and freeze in the face of raised voices and quick movements. She hated it, hated the satisfaction it gave them when they saw. 

She hated a lot of things actually. She hated her relatives for their disgust and disregard they had when they had contact with her as if she was diseased and filthy. She hated that they had shunned her father—her wonderful, soft-spoken and so so very gentle father—so much that he took his own life right in front of her. She hated the feeling that would stir in her stomach at her thoughts, that swelled and swelled so much that her body couldn’t take it and burst from her in violent, angry gold-red sparks—almost crystals really. 

She had never actually remembered a time where she hadn’t had that small flame of anger underneath her skin, maybe it was when her father had been alive and had held her close and whispered tales of history and story mixed into one, maybe it was never. The point was that she had never felt anything but anger. (even if underneath all that anger is a lake full of self-hatred and loathing so deep she could drown in it without ever touching the bottom.)

In the end, she enters the Shinobi Academy at six, graduates at seven and after two years in the general shinobi ranks was quickly snatched up and shunted into the ANBU corps. She is one of the youngest to ever enter the ANBU corps and although they don’t like it, they can’t deny she’s good at what she does, nor that she was practically shanghaied into it.

She is given the name Hound and all but throws away her birth name. She all but drowns in her orders and hidden behind her mask no one knows her—no one knows her of the bastard Uchiha, the disgraced Uchiha. What they know of her, is that she is a great tracking, almost second to none bar Sakumo Hatake (Until the man’s suicide that is,) and a stealth specialist that has near enough no equal. Underneath her mask, hidden from sight and no one knowing her clan and sins—her sin of being born—she is a new person. Reborn into something new, something great. Almost like one of the legends that spoke of a bird capable of rebirth. It makes her feel alive, makes her feel something other than anger.

She meets Hyena, Her lifelong partner (Not that she knew it then,) in the middle of a mission gone wrong that he inserts himself into without any care of her thoughts of feelings, (then again, she had never vocalised her feelings before, if ever, and even in ANBU she wasn’t about to start then.)

She hates him at first like she does everything else at that point in her life. He is swift, smooth and charming but for all that she lacks social experience and skills, she has never been blind nor stupid. The man—for he is a man, for all his lanky frame and awkward limbs, he is a man for a shinobi is no child when they are first weapons and people second—is charming and smooth, like a politician there is no doubt. The man is no wallflower, nor a buttercup waiting to be picked at the slightest movement. No—the man is a wolf through and through. His mask—Hyena—fit him perfectly in more than one way. His movements are too smooth and his actions are collared behind a leash of barely concealed violence and glee, bloodthirsty in almost every single move he makes and hidden in his tone when he speaks.

If Hyena was a fool, then Hound loved her clan more than anything.

The mission finishes and they both go their separate ways and Hound hopes they don’t meet again. (Even if a small—very small—part of her cries out for even just a small bit of his joy and happiness. Just the smallest bit.)

It doesn’t work, unfortunately. They end up put in a team with three others, Spider, Goat and Bat. She hates it at first, even if Spider is sarcastic and makes her laugh silently. Even if Goat is careful of his strength around them and so so very gentle(—Father why did you leave—) with them. Even if Bat is a silent presence at her back when she needs it most. Even if Hyena is almost glued to her side that she’d have needed a crowbar to pry him free if he was any closer. They grow on her, of course, they do. They grow on her like a fungus that can’t—won’t—be scraped away.

It is, of course, the moment that she gets comfortable with them, the moment she wavers between speaking to them—speaking for the first time in years—that it all goes to hell. 

A mission gone straight to hell almost as soon as they passed Mist’s borders. It happens near enough instantly, Spider goes down with a knife to the nape and it cleaved in half vertically. Goat is next despite his attempts to dodge and back away. They get his fingers first then his hands, they chop him up bits by bits as he tries to get away from them and Hound can only look in horror and sick kind of fascination as the man dies and they don’t stop. Hyena is pressed against her back, clutching at her shoulders and his fingers are trembling and his breath hitching at every CHOP that fills the clearing. Hound can’t stop, she can’t seem to look away and the picture is BURNED into her brain and she knows if she survives this it will haunt her dreams and waking moments forever.  

Its a scramble, not even a battle, to get away from the monsters—and they are monsters, she thinks, watching numbly, frozen down to her core when one of them begins to EAT her teammate’s corpse and the others with them don’t seem to notice or care.

Bat goes mad, hysterically screaming as he throws himself at them and begins to just wail in grief at the one eating Spiders flesh. The grief is so chilling that it sends a shiver down her spine and it’s as Hyena is grabbing her by the back of her harness and hauling her away that she sees Bat’s mask go flying off and sees his red sharingan eyes that her breath catches in her throat and her heart seems to squeeze painfully tight in her chest. 

Even if she wanted to think about it. Think about the fact that one of her relative—one of the people who hated her—was one of the few people she cared for. She can’t. Hyena is practically screaming in her face to wise the fuck up and get her shit together or else they’re gonna end up dead. And she can’t, she can’t lose anyone else to those monsters, to this terrible war and to anybody. She won’t survive it, that she knows. She’ll break and shatter into a million pieces and fly away like dust on the wind.

 So she gathers her sanity, gathers all she has left and puts her back together as much as she can and it’s on. Its a race again both time and stamina. Bat’s—Uchiha—screams of grief quickly turning into ones of pain and agony. She thinks they get ganged on by some bandits somewhere along the way, she thinks they get ambushed as well at someone only she can’t remember. It’s a blur of motion and fire and ice in her veins and her heart in her throat then—

Hyena is in front of her—protecting her from something—she doesn’t know what from or why only that he’s gonna get hurt and she can’t—there’s screaming and it takes it a few minutes for it sink in that it’s her screaming herself hoarse for the first time in so long.

Something happens, something great and powerful, something terrible and sinister as something bursts from her in sparks—crystal-like—and swallow them both whole and then suddenly they aren’t in the same forest anymore but she doesn’t care about that. She throws herself at Hyena and grabs at his clothes and chokes and sobs into his shitty kevlar ANBU vest and clings to him. 

“Don’t leave me alone!” She sobs in a voice that hasn’t been used in years, but she can’t sign this—she can’t just look him in the eyes and hopes she is understood. He needs to understand, needs to know that if he leaves she will die in every way but actual death. “You can’t—!! Don’t go and leave me here by myself! Don’t go where I can’t follow you!”

She can’t remember much after that, only that there’s a lot of sobbing and hushing from Hyena and all the stress—all the emotional uphill and grief crashes over her and knocks her out.

      Hyena stills, his arms full of the bastard Uchiha in his arms. Her mask is gone, knocked off in one of their fights while running and he doesn’t think she’s noticed yet but what does trip him up is that she spoke. He also doesn’t think she’s noticed that they’ve somehow been aged down to tinies. 

She’s cute, not his type sure, but cute enough. Her hair, free of the hairnet and mask that held it in, is fire red and short, almost bob-like in that it ends at her chin and puffs out a bit. Her jaw is sharp and angular and her skin is pale. She would have looked like a classic Uchiha if it weren’t for her wild Uzumaki hair. 

He also can’t get over the fact that she spoke. After so long in silence if what her hoarse and cracking voice told him and to him. Right enough, they both just watched their teammates being horribly killed and then eaten right in front of them so he guessed she was right with the tears and the speaking and almost-breakdown. Almost like the breakdown Hyena is starving off by not thinking about it. 

They’re in foreign lands (even when it’s not necessarily land they actually landed on—more like a small pond of green water that stings and burns), somewhere that isn’t safe when he doesn’t know the surrounding and Hyena doesn’t know how they got there or how Hound did it but he really doesn’t have the mental strength to look the gift horse in the face right now, he’s exhausted and injured from the fighting and the running. 

Hyena hasn’t always been very smart. He’s not a genius, like his clan heir nor their elders with their experience. 

He’s the example of a union born of a Nara and Inuzuka, more instincts and impulse even when he can play it smart with the best of them and with how tired he is he doubts he has the mental capabilities to seduce someone into giving them shelter—never mind the fact that he’s ten instead of eighteen. 

It takes less than half a day for Hound to wake up and even less than that for him to realise that they’re not in their world anymore. The first sign, there is no Konoha, nor Land of Fire. it gets him strange looks right enough when he asks and no one has seen his forehead protector before. They coo at his looks and express his concern over his ‘friend’ that easily makes him both annoyed and irritated in equal measure. He also finds out that the small marble-like balls he picked up are called Materia and seem to be able to do what Jutsu’s normally do. He guesses he’s lucky he picked them up, even if he only did it to see if he could make some quick money with it as he quickly learns that 1) Chakra doesn’t exist wherever they are and 2) neither of them have Chakra anymore.

Which is great, absolutely fantastic.

There’s not much to do when they get into reading everything they get their hands-on about this new world of theirs. They practice both their ANBU training in their new and younger bodies and study and practice with Materia just as much—if not more with. 

They also learn about ShinRa which well not really the worse thing they’ve seen it isn’t really on their radar much but as a place that they could go and get a job when they’ve finally gotten this whole New-world New-Body thing figured out. 

Its also around this time that they meet the Turks and well—sign them up. It’s like being ANBU but much more open and without the masks. Which does admittedly confuse them for a while because What? If they're the Shadows everyone's scared off, why do they show their faces?? Right enough, it's not their world so—whatever goes, goes they both guess. 

They meet Veld after being introduced into the Turks. It’s normal of course, introduce the newbies to the boss and intimidate and awe them. At least that’s what Hyena thinks is gonna happen when they first step into the office in newly given suits that Hyena already hates, he misses his old ANBU uniform and the kevlar vest that Hound both hated and loved.

 The bossman looks them over and then without thinking, double-takes at Hound and just stares. It makes something in him bristle and his instincts fire off all at the same time and its only his ANBU control that allows him to keep his cool and not go ballistic at the man. 

It’s subtle and if he was any less experienced and not actually a green rookie they all think he is he might have missed it. Velds eyes shift from Hound’s face, taking in her features carefully and then slowly, almost as if he’s dreading what he’s gonna find, he looks at the small picture frame on his desk. 

 Its a picture of Veld, younger of course and another man besides him. He’s tall and lanky, dressed in the common Turk suit and silky black hair and red eyes. He has a sharp jawline and almond eyes that if Hyena didn’t know better he’d have thought they were Hounds but no—for one, Hound is a female not a male and two, she has red hair not black but—

 It’s there. The features in the unknown man’s face and the way he seems to stand, graceful and tall that seems to mirror his partner. 

Hmm, he thinks, staring at the frame then looking over at Hound. How interesting.

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Fifty-Three

That vile man stood hunched over, then laughed up a storm before once again standing up straight.

“What a bold declaration, but from you, it rings hollow. You don’t truly believe anyone is innocent, do you, Etna?”

“What?! You really are Miss CEO?! I thought you were Versailles!”

I turned my head to the side. “I would rather die than become a CEO. There are some evils that I won’t stoop to.”

“Indeed, miss Juniper. Your friend here died to become the entity known as Dr. Etna. So did you.” He laughed again. “And now that the two of you are here once more, Dr. Etna can be born anew! Hopefully this time, she’ll be more obedient.”

“Funny. This is my first time seeing you,” I ignored his own threatening declarations.

“Even if you didn’t count the multiple versions of you that I’ve crossed paths with, that simply isn’t true.”

“I’m sorry, you don’t ring any bells.”

“Not surprising,” he chuckled. “Your lapses in memory, after all. Not to mention that you only ever encountered me once throughout each incarnation. I was never a part of the ETNA project; I was only an observer. I belonged to the Militia Department, a group which oversaw each war throughout history. Rather rotten work, though, wouldn’t you agree? The Militia Department was pretty much the Department of War, but then we also have a Peace Department. This whole company is a floating contradiction!”

“Ah, but the thing I love most about here is the fact that you can see entire lifetimes pass with little time at all passing here. I observed the ETNA project in its very beginning. Quite a fascinating thing, but just as you must have heard, an utter failure. None of the children could handle the power of the angel. As for your father,” his lips spread to a wider smile, his voice grew more raspy. “When he was ordered to include his own daughter into the project, he did not refuse. But rather than dispose of you in the end like all the other failed experiments, he took you and ran off. He tried to change his identity.”

I shook. He must have been trying to rile me up, in order for me to lower my guard. I had to look past his words, not let them stick to me.

“Look at you!” He spread his arms out. “How much you’ve grown! He created his own device to travel through time under the guise that it was the first. He failed to realize that he never did send in his resignation letter! He was Flashbulb property, just like the device he created was, and just like you are!”

“Enough!” I shouted. “None of that matters to me anymore!”

He shrugged. “Oh, I know. I was just reminiscing. As for when we met proper, you were young, but just a few years into adulthood. We had captured you, but you managed to escape once again. It must have been over a dozen times that we enacted our fleeting encounter, but it never gets old to me. Rather, it’s like rehearsing for a play. Each time, I get to deliver my line with just a little more passion. I, Dr. Lamington, and you, the girl who would forsake every identity if it meant getting to live another day.”

He walked over to me, slow strides. I stood froze, even in my more loathsome state, I was the one horrified. The memory resurfaced.

“Ah, those eyes. Is it time to repeat my timeless line?”

He extended his arm to his side and the metal rod flew back to him.

“Electromagnetism?!” Juniper was in awe.

“Magnets, or magic? Miracles, really. I admit, I don’t know how it works, myself.”

“I remember,” I found myself speak up.

“Tell me, how many identities will you cast aside in order to keep this up?”

“I’ll forsake every part of me if I have to if it means I can stay alive,” I followed up, the words passionless. As if recited from a script.

“Bravo!”

“Verse! Watch out!” Her voice came into my head.

I saw the swing of the metal rod and caught it in my left hand. Steam seeped out from my palm and bent the rod; it snapped in his hand, and once again, I yanked it away. Then, I swiped at his cheek with my other hand. Blood trickled down from the claw marks on his cheek, and he held his hand over the wound, but rather than cry out in pain, he laughed.

“Look at you! How much you’ve grown! You really did cast everything aside, even yourself!”

“Yes,” I gave a short nod. “I threw so much away in order to protect myself. Now, I no longer care about keeping myself alive, so long as I can protect another.”

“Again! Another bold declaration! How wonderful! How noble of you!”

“You can’t be serious, can you? You need to live!” Juniper cried out from behind you.

I shook my head. “No. You need to live. I may wither here, but I will not allow you to be harmed. Go now. Leave this room.”

I saw her get up and run out the door from the corner of my eye. He did not prevent her escape. He remained fixated on me.

“Whether it’s her, both of you, or just you, it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right: it doesn’t matter. Because you won’t get the chance to take either of us.”

“How can you hold yourself to that when you’re withering away?”

It was true: my body was growing weaker even as the part of me which held the entity persisted. I wasn’t like Blanc; I wasn’t meant to hold this all in.

“I’ll tear you limb from limb before I disappear completely,” I assured him. He laughed at that remark.

“Yes, you’ve become quite bloodthirsty in your transformed state.”

“You have no idea,” my lips spread to form a smile, the fangs of my teeth stuck out and blood dripped down from my mouth. I wiped my mouth, then I pounced on him. He had little time to react; he tried to grab the metal rod, but I tore his hand right off. “Aah!” He yelped, but his reaction was rather short, and he went right back to hysterics. “That’s right! I heard how you made quick of our top mercenaries! I see now! But even with them gone, we could just hire more and more! Even in the state you’re in, you would always be pursued!”

I sliced his other hand clean off. I let out a sigh of pleasure.

“That’s why I came here,” I crooned. “So I could be the pursuer instead.”

I began to laugh. “Didn’t I make good on my word?”

Rather than show any hint of being in pain, he continued to smile as well. “That you did. But you still made a mistake.”

“Oh?”

“I never needed my hands. I just needed to keep you still.”

I got up off of him, fear rose in me as I backed away. He too got up.

He bumped into the generator, and to the side, I noticed a button. Above me, a machine with a needle-like funnel with a laser attached descended and was aimed right at me.

“All I need to do is give the order and your life will vanish! To think, you came right to me, and once again, fell to the same fate! It’s so wonderful! Don’t worry, though! Your life will start anew, as Dr. Etna once more, and this time I will make sure –”

“You talk too much,” I heard the voice of someone behind him say.

He fell over.

I watched as the one who stood behind him was none other than Juniper.

“I thought I told you to leave!” I cried out.

“Yeah, I did. But I could still hear everything from outside. It wasn’t like I could just leave you with that guy.”

“You shouldn’t be here!” I shouted. “You should be somewhere safe!”

“Oh, sure. That’s the thanks I get for saving your life.”

“Why?” I looked away. I didn’t want to face her looking the way I did.

“I told you already, didn’t I? People care about you. You shouldn’t do something so stupid like throw yourself away. I don’t care what you look like, you’re still the same person,” then I heard her whisper. “In fact, that monster form is kind of hot…”

Birds of a feather.

“Thank you,” I muttered.

“No problem! Anyway, I’m gonna go. This room isn’t all that interesting to me.”

I looked at her as she left. “Stay safe, okay?”

“I get it,” she said before we parted ways. “You’ve got some weird crush on me, but look, you’re a married woman, and you gotta respect that.”

What?!

I looked down and smiled. Even as the way I was, I couldn’t help but nod along. “Yeah. You’re right.”

As she left, I looked over to the unconscious Dr. Lamington. I had little strength in me, but I already found myself reverting to a more human appearance. I dragged his body against the wall and conjured up some rope, then tied him up.

I sat in the corner of the room and waited for him to wake up. He loved a good show, so I would allow him to remain alive, as an audience.

“I’m sorry, Velvet,” I shook my head and smiled. “I’m going to do just what I intended to. Even after meeting up with you and the others, I’m still going to go through with it.” I shook my head again. “I really wanted to protect you all, but I’m going to have to lower that shield now that I am alone once again.”

Maybe I too loved to run my mouth. Or maybe it was just the state I was in. The delirium. The anxiety of what I would soon carry out.

Dr. Lamington woke up not a moment later. His affable and cordial act was replaced by a panic at his situation.

“You’re still here?”

“Ah, you’re finally awake.”

“Untie me! You’re better than this!”

“I have nothing but contempt for you all. For years, I wished for nothing more but to kill every last person who wronged me. But I never quite did that. So you’re right. Even as for the ones I did kill, it was either in an altered state, or accidental.”

“Do you think that absolves you of your actions?” He cried out. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to psych me out.

“On the contrary,” I got up. “You wanted to see Etna, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

I pulled out a USB drive. “I must warn you: I’m not very good with computers.”

“Whatever you’re about to do, please reconsider!”

“Hmm...no.”

“I can tell you what happened to your father!” He grew desperate.

“You can, can you?”

“Yes!”

“That’s too bad. I’m no longer interested in such a thing.”

He begged and pleaded, but the words were drowned out. It took a few tries, but I got it in. Then, I turned on the computer. In an instant, the monitor lit up. I dragged the cursor over to the program on the drive, then clicked.

What a pitiful state I was in. To think it was no illusion, but instead an insult added to injury. We were in my laboratory, far into the labyrinth underneath the city. All of which was in ruin, as was I.

It would take a good deal of time for me to recover. In the meantime, she sat on the floor, while I, connected to wires, waiting to be fully recharged.

“What did you mean when you said ‘let’s work together’?” I asked.

“You of all people shouldn’t be wondering such a thing.”

How wonderful. Her voice was so devoid of emotion. I wanted to weep tears of joy upon seeing her driven so low by despair, but I could do no such thing in my weakened state.

“You believe you can make a deal with me.” Make no mistake; that wasn’t a question. That was a statement.

“Neither of us are satisfied with our current situations,” she replied. The whole time, she never looked my way. Not that I could blame her. She already told me she despised me, as she should.

“To make a deal with me is to make a deal with the devil.”

“I know. But as I said, there may be no place of comfort for me. I’m finding that I am the same devil as you.”

The last time I saw her, she was in denial of such a thing. I think I preferred it that way. Any other time, I would revel in her despair, but at the moment, I was dealing with my own hopelessness. To think that mad half-Beige could drive me to such a state, besting me at my own game, with half the wit. It disgusted me.

“Since when did you wear your hair braided?”

She didn’t turn to me. “It was something I thought would make me happy. But not even an angel’s blood can bring me joy.”

“I see. It looks ridiculous.”

“I didn’t ask.”

Even if I couldn’t fully enjoy it, I wanted to crush that faint bit of hope that I sensed she still possessed.

“I want to meet up with someone. I think you already knew who.”

“Yes. The brat who made you who you are.”

“If you never meddled with this world, they never would have been the way they are.”

“That’s only true for a previous incarnation of me. The one of this world died not long ago.”

“Pity. I would have liked to have met them.”

“They died in Area 51, in fact, trying to save a friend. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. Saving someone you care about often results in the death of another.”

Unfazed. I couldn’t believe it.

“Would you like to know what became of the Juniper and Trent of this world?”

“Only so much as to know whether or not they ever met a version of me.”

“They didn’t. The ‘you’ of this world grew to be old, with a normal life, and died in her 60s.”

“Good for her.”

“As for those two, they also died. Trent worked himself to death attending to too many patients, and Juniper was crushed under her many inventions. Both related to the pandemic, in some way or another.” That was a lie. They were still alive, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Maybe it’s better that way. This world is dying. I think it would be less painful for them to die sooner rather than later.

“She was a deadbeat and he lacked ambition.”

“That doesn’t matter to me. I still cared about them and they cared about me. I just didn’t deserve it.”

“Indeed, you didn’t.”

She scoffed. “You sound like my mother.”

“If anything, you would be my mother, since I was made in your image.”

She made gagging noises. “That’s the most disturbing thing you said.”

Out of all the things. Such a simple joke.

“The reason it won’t work is because I’ve already brought myself into despair. You’re just upset because you didn’t get to take credit,” she added.

That struck me. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

“Tell me what your proposal is already.”

“I want to be rid of this. To be human again.”

I laughed my robotic laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha.

“Do you believe that I can do that for you?”

“I figured you were the only one I could turn to.”

“You are correct. I can remove it from you. In turn, it would be absorbed into me.”

“So you would become more powerful. Win-win.”

“Yes. But there is something else I would like you to do.”

“What?”

“I want you to take this,” I reached my arm out. She walked over and took it.

“A flash drive?”

“Call it what you want. It stores a copy of me within it.”

“What do you want me to do with this?”

“The Flashbulb has excluded me from returning to their headquarters. I want you to go there and upload the copy of me to one of their terminals. Once this planet is no more, I too will disappear, but I do not wish to die here.”

“I want nothing more to do with that place.”

“I understand that, which is why I think you will be pleased to know that once I am present there, I will kill every last inhabitant and reduce The Flashbulb to ashes. Of course, you will be spared, and free to leave.”

“Do what you want. My hatred for that organization runs deep.”

“Yes, and I always wanted to experience firsthand what vengeance feels like.”

“I’ll do it. I don’t care for anything else anymore expect being human again.”

She began to walk away. I would leave her to her own devices, but first, I had to warn her.

“If you try anything, I will know.” I didn’t even know if my threat reached her, but I couldn’t allow myself to not have power over someone.

She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I would try.”

I watched as she disappeared. All the best, my strength was returning to me. I too, had to be off, to attend to my other toy back in Nevada. Her struggle would be quite the delight.

I backed away from the computer terminal. Soon, she appeared in front of me, as if I was looking into a mirror.

“What have you done?!” He shouted. “She’s a monster with no respect for humanity! I wanted to create a new version who was more obedient! This one enjoys the suffering of others! She could never be good for humanity!”

Dr. Etna looked to her side where Dr. Lamington was.

“You talk too much,” her hollow and mechanical voice carried more menace than I thought she was capable.

That’s the same thing Juniper said to him. To think that this being’s personality could be a combination of both of us when she’s much more cruel than either of us. I know I made a mistake, but maybe I could at least persuade her to not kill Velvet and the others.

Shadowed limbs, much like thorny vines or tentacles, shot from out of her palm and tore through Dr. Lamington. I tried to look away, but even doing so, his screams rang through my ears and pierced through my mind. In an instant, he had become no more, and in his place was a mangled mess with blood and chunks of flesh stuck to the floor and walls.

His sick laughter paled in comparison to hers. Low and husky, she turned to me and crooned.

“It seems he caused you some trouble,” it sounded like she was toying with me. “Funny. It was no trouble at all for me.”

“Doctor,” was all I could manage to say. Where had my confidence gone?

“Professor,” she corrected. “I always preferred that title, myself.”

She moved about the room and I watched as she took note of her surroundings.

“I would have preferred if I had returned to my laboratory, but this will suffice,” it seemed like she had forgotten I was still in the room, until she made her way back to me. “Not to worry, dear, I have not forgotten our deal.”

I shuddered, but I regained composure. What did I have to fear? She was me, and I, her.

“I just have one more request before you strip me of my power.”

“’Strip you’? My, I didn’t think you brought me here just for that,” she teased.

“Shut it,” I growled. “I came here with a group of people. All I ask is that you bring no harm to them.”

“Oh my. Don’t get greedy, now.”

I took a step back. Even though I had made such a mistake, I didn’t want Velvet or the others to suffer for it. Especially not Juniper…

“Relax. I am nothing if not merciful. Let me see…” She held up her hand and began counting on her fingers. “That second-rate hacker, two living mistakes, and your distant bride. Four in total. Five, if counting you, but counting you feels a little redundant.”

“How do you know who I came with?” Could she read my thoughts? No. I didn’t see how. I may have sunk so low as to work with her, but she did not possess me.

“I watched you back on Earth before you left. Funny that you would still choose to fulfill our deal even considering who you chose to bring along. You must really be that desperate that you don’t care who dies if it means you can be rid of your ‘gift’.”

“It’s not like that! I just thought –”

“That I would obey your every whim? That I could play the role of your maid servant? Should I call you Madame?” She gave a short and false sounding laugh. “The way your mind works sure is something.”

“Just hurry up and take this from me. I’m afraid of myself and everything around me. I understand now that no matter what I try, I will never experience true happiness.”

She pushed her glasses up, then closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Dearie me, I may find myself a little sympathetic toward you. Your naivete is astounding. Try to think of the implications of your request. Do you really wish to proceed with this?”

I couldn’t tell whether she was being sincere or not. It all sounded like a great, big tease, which was all too typical of her. Why would she want to warn me of anything?

“Of course! More than anything! I wish to end this life as a demon!”

She scowled. “I think I preferred when you acted more devilish. You may find yourself eating such words.”

“I don’t care what you say! Just let me end this life so I can feel human again!”

“Very well,” she sighed. I closed my eyes and waited. I expected to feel something different, a change, but instead, I felt nothing.

I opened my eyes.

“Nothing happened,” I told her. Then it hit me.

My insides felt like they were twisting up, my head felt as if it had grown ten times heavier, and my legs gave out. I fell to the floor. The whole room around me turned to an oppressive feeling and while I clutched my stomach, it was as if gravity had increased and weighed exclusively on me.

“What...did you do to me?” I gasped out the words.

“I did exactly as you requested. You have no one but yourself to blame for this.”

Tears began to form from underneath my eyelids as I felt as if my face itself contorted. But no, that couldn’t be it. Something stirred in me. It was as if I was being cut open in every direction, an invisible force stabbing into me, causing ceaseless pain. I cried out, but I couldn’t even tell if I had made a sound. The weight continued to pull me down.

“What is happening to me?” I shouted, the tears pushed their way out and I couldn’t stop them. It was much more than a trickle, it was like an endless barrage of hail. “I never wanted to feel this way!”

“I know,” I heard her speak. I couldn’t even see very well anymore. My glasses fell off my face, having gotten fogged up anyway. My face was against the floor, and in my mind, I begged and pleaded for it all to end. It was all. Too. Much. “I even tried to warn you against it. Albeit, last minute, but still. I gave you the option to back out.”

“Am I dying?” I struggled to get the words out. Spoken through sobs, my voice drowned out.

“No. You only feel like you are.”

“WHY?!” I shouted through the tears, my voice grown hoarse. Weak. Like a child. I didn’t even know who I was anymore, or who I was becoming.

“You’re experiencing for the first time what it would have been like had you not been born with Euphoria in you. She really is a guardian angel, you know.” It sounded like she was so far away, and musing to herself only, but I could tell she was still next to me. “You weren’t a failed experiment. Rather, it was because of her influence that you were able to get as far as you were.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Your anger and passion when you were younger. You felt that way because it made you happy to feel so strong and defend yourself. When you were being pursued, you were always able to evade or escape capture, not because of your inherent abilities, but because being free would have made you happier. Living to fight, that brought you considerable joy. Though you may have thought yourself aloof, you were elated to be free.”

“But my father! The way my mother treated me! The fact that I was pursued in the first place! Losing my childhood girlfriend! Knowing that I would be doomed to become you! Losing my wife! Feeling like I could never be at peace! How can you say that I’ve always lived my life with this thing being a part of me when so much has gone wrong in my life?”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? You got more of what you wanted than you realize: you must have thought at some point ‘I wish he would disappear’. That angel couldn’t dictate how your parents would treat you, but you were able to break free of your mother not long after your father disappeared. You wanted something to fight for, and thus, an enemy appeared. You broke free from Anais because you felt you would have a higher chance of survival if you were alone.”

“The only reason I exist is because at one point you were manipulated into believing the pros of my existence would outweigh the cons. You don’t remember this because it never happened to you that way, but it only took once for me to be born. After that, all your pursuers had to do was tell you that your fate to become me was inevitable.”

She went on, as if obligated to answer my every question.

“The fact that you found someone in the first place is because you desired security. You even said so, yourself. But that doesn’t mean you never loved her. Rather, you always desired a calming presence, a place to call home. Many people do. You are not unique in that regard. If by ‘losing her’ you’re referring to both of you dying to become me, again, you were manipulated and it only took once for the cycle to fall into place. I admit, my existence is a perversion. You shouldn’t consider me either of you two, nor a combination. I am the way I am because of the intentions in which I was created, after which, I developed into who I am now. You could say I am closer to that of that man I disposed of, or the overseers of the ETNA project.”

“In truth, I despise those who are like me. I prefer to drive people to the brink of despair, then have them reach the conclusion to live out their lives because there is no other option. Watching as they fall into a routine and accept their miserable existences because they’ve reached such a low point. That is delicious. But to see someone like me, that disgusts me. I admit, it was amusing to watch you think you were anything like me, but it grew tiresome.”

I shook. Fear? Dread? No. Something greater.

“Or, if by ‘losing her’, you mean only recently, after receiving the power that you thought you so desired, that was your choice. Knowing her, she would have stayed by your side, had you let her. To your last point, you could have always been at peace, had you known what would have truly made you happy.”

The tears continued to escape from within me. They wouldn’t stop. It was all so heavy, and brought with it so much pain.

“But I hurt her! I hurt so many people! I’ve done cruel things! I also manipulated others! I…” I huffed, my breaths felt like they were leaving from me as well. I didn’t deserve to breathe. I knew it already. “I took the form of a demon! I never felt like I could be happy!”

She sighed. “I never said the things you wanted were things that were right for you. Your appearance altered the way you did, because you already felt that about yourself. Your physical state was just reflecting how you thought you should be. Not just because you thought worse of yourself than you truly were, but because you desired to express yourself more freely. For years, you thought it was best for yourself to repress your emotions, to subdue them. Because you thought that doing so would be best for your overall happiness. I could tell that when we spoke upon your initial transformation that you would become more unstable. Why, you may ask? Because you were beginning to experience a wider range of emotions than just anger and it confused you.”

“I wish I could have known! I wish I didn’t have to learn this way! I didn’t want to go through all that!”

“I know. But it is too late to make wishes and expect them to be granted. The angel is gone from you now and what you are feeling is all the pain you kept down. Years and years of emotions you would have felt had you allowed yourself. Not to say I blame you, given everything you had to endure, the conclusion you came to was only natural. So many people have felt the same under less circumstances. ‘If I could only turn my emotions off’. Well, aren’t you a lucky girl? Now that that filter is gone, it’s all coming out at once.”

I slammed my fists against the floor, but I felt like my hands would fall off. It was too much, I was falling apart. I was normal, I was human, but I never got to experience these things before and it fucking hurt. The worst part of all of it was, as cruel as she was, as much of a propensity she had to lie, this time, I knew she was telling the truth.

It’s always been so wrong. Everything. My very existence. I should have never wanted any of those things. I was afraid. Much of my life. Afraid of my parents, afraid of my peers, afraid of society. So I tried to fight back. I lashed out at others. I was so afraid of becoming powerless, of being enslaved to something beyond my control. So I propped myself up. Tried to stand as tall as I was. But I was always stumbling, often hunched down. It was often too much to bear, and I held it in anyway.

All that grief. I held it in all so I could continue on. Did I deserve to continue on? Did I deserve to live in a world where I felt like I had to hurt others to protect myself? Or to protect them? Did they deserve any of that?

For so long I thought that the reason I held my emotions back was because deep down, I was someone who got off on the pain of others. But that wasn’t it. I myself was in pain, and in turn, I thought the world should have been as well. That wasn’t right, either. Because in truth, I only wanted my life to be full of peace. A life full of love. Instead, I thought I could settle on security. But I was always insecure, even then.

Even now. I cannot stop myself from letting it out anymore. I don’t want to. But I deserve to, don’t I? To feel the full force of the pain throughout my life. I deserve to die along with my emotions.

“Please…” My voice hoarse, a near croak. “Kill me.”

“Normally, I would oblige, but I prefer it this way.”

Right. That was how she was. To watch me suffer. That was what brought her joy.

“How can I live with all that I’ve done? I brought you with me! It all hurts! I don’t deserve to live!”

“That’s not for me to say. Stay here and die, if that’s what you want. But the two of us are no longer one.”

“I feel so weak,” my words couldn’t even register as a whisper. They were so hoarse and broken.

“Yes. That’s how you have always been: Not a killer, not a demon, not someone so cruel. Just a weak, scared, little girl.”

“...Please…” I reached beside me. I reached out. “Let me feel you one last time.”

“Very well. After, I leave you so I may slaughter every living soul in this headquarters. You made a mistake bringing me here. I hope you know that.”

Even still, she extended her hand. I was so blinded, so weakened. But just to experience her in her physical form. I took her hand, picked myself up, then sent her my goodbye.

By driving the metal rod through her chest.

“You...made a mistake...by taking on a physical form.”

I could see a little more clear. Red. Blood running down her lab coat. I wondered if that too, was artificial. Rather than be in any kind of shock, she spoke with her same monotone.

“Right through the heart. I didn’t even know I had such a thing.”

My balance was off. I took a couple steps away, then fell back once more. I knew it. I was too weak to even stand.

“I’m proud of you. You finally managed to face your demon.”

I looked up. It was so unclear, but I knew nothing would have fixed that. I was in far too broken a state. If I were to shatter into pieces, it would come as no surprise to me.

But what I saw was not a corpse fall. Make no mistake; she had died. That copy, anyway. But she was always artificial. So it only made sense that she would simply disappear, rather than leave behind a body.

Her death was no illusion, either. There was no one else in her place. The drive that had been in the computer had also disappeared. Not because it was an illusion, but because it seemed to only exist as a part of her.

How I knew this? I didn’t. But it was the most comfort I could take. Because I didn’t want to think that I had truly unleashed her upon others. Because in this room, I was alone. Lonely. But I didn’t think I should have felt any other way. Everything hurt. To simply exist was a painful experience. I didn’t know what to expect, because it was the first time in my life that I was fully human.

If I didn’t get up and move, there was the risk of being found and killed or captured. But I couldn’t find the will. All I could do was lay there and sob.

I was free. I was unhappy.

[theaterkid821]

Gather ‘round peeps. It’s story time. (Spoilers for changes so don’t read if you’re seeing it soon in the future)

Pre-show

So the first thing I feel like I need to say is that if you are a purist for what they call BMC 1.0, you may not like this. There were a lot of changes to lyrics and lines. It was the same show we all love, but it was different. I loved most of the changes but I can see why some people wouldn’t. 

In Will Roland’s bio, he says “actor/singer/human.” That’s not important to the show, but it was important to me that you know that. 

Also something for my fellow plus size people, the seats are not the most accommodating. Hopefully that isn’t a deterrent, but it is something you should probably know. 

They have a thing called squiptheline.com where you can preorder your merch and pick them up. I got poster, sticker pack, and lip balm (they are mountain dew and mountain dew red)

And then it begins...

They had the SQUIP do the intro and it was beautifully hysterical. 

They lit up the dot on the “i” (which was a little pill) on the curtain-thing 

The shelves behind Jeremy’s bed were full of nerd shit and it was beautiful. 

Jeremy has glasses. Nerd level even higher

Jeremy’s dad comes on with unwashed bowls of cereal, old pizza boxes, and cartoons on. Really adds to his depressed aesthetic. 

When he’s leaving, you see the mailbox full of mail.

He comes back on as the bus driver so quickly.... how?

During the dance bit, he runs into everyone and shouts “girls!” and then shouts “boys!”

Instead of “so Jenna Roland... I mean slutty” dialogue, they change it to “What are you staring at.... I’ve never even noticed him.”

Signup comes from up above. It’s awesome. 

Christine comes on to catch her Eos chapstick (as someone who uses Eos chapstick, I can tell you this is 100% accurate) and then dramatic application

After second verse, before Michael’s entrance, they have Chloe talk dodge a question about her and Jake’s breakup and then Jenna says she saw him with someone. To which Chloe responded, “tell me everything” and then exited. 

George Salazar is amazing and I love him. 

Even from the beginning, with Michael you weren’t sure on the LGBTQ+ spectrum he was, but he DEFINITELY wasn’t straight. 

(Headcannon #1 they used; Michael’s has 2 moms); when seeing the infamous “boyf” “riends,” he took out his phone to take a selfie and said “my mothers would be thrilled!”

Play thing came down from the sky again and Christine lay on the floor for a little bit so you could see her face underneath until it covered her

She did the chorus line dance!

The awkwardness of the scene before I Love Play Rehearsal. 10/10. 

The popular kids knocked Christine and Jeremy off the chairs (my poor babies!)

Slightly after Jake impressing Christine: “Why are you guys doing the play anyways” “Brooke’s doing it because of Chloe, Chloe’s doing it because of me, and Rich is doing it because he’s my boy” “and why are you doing it” “well i’m doing it because of you”

Bathroom scene even had the florescent lights come down.

Rich flushes Jeremy’s head down the urinal (poor child I wanted to hug him)

They whispered “so its like... drugs?” “it’s better than drugs Jeremy”

ITS FROM JAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN. ‘Nough said

The projection behind the backup was TERRIFYING. They projected people all in white behind them doing the movements.

The rolled the bed on stage for 2 Player Game

Screaming “The cafetorium!” and then having the quieter music as they sit and play the game, emotionless was beautiful. 

“You’re like this bottle of Crystal Pepsi that expired in 1996″ “Is that safe for human consumption?” “Gets better with age”

They had a projection of the game in the background at the end.

They had fog in the shoebox as well as a blue light

“to activate take with mountain dew... not sure why.... and this is important, to deactivate-we’re sold out!”

And then never ended that thought...

“how do you feel?” “like...” singing to add to the dramatic moment and then... “a chump.”

“this guy is hooking me up with a case of ecto-something (i forget). It’s the ghostbusters drink they discontinued in the 90s!” “What does it taste like?” *whispered* “Ghosts!”

(Headcannon #2 they used; Jeremy being a furry); “my default mode you can also set me for... sexy anime female in cat suit with tail.”

They added an intro to Be More Chill

They cut out “i’m a super computer Jeremy, I’m made of math”

The SQUIP was sitting on the clothing rack for the clothing store part

Chloe broke a hanger after hearing he went with Madeline

For Do You Want a Ride, it started with Brooke began by slowly dragging the straw in and out of her soda can ;)

For the Reprise of Be More Chill, they had both the old lady in the track suit, and a lady in the scooter

her license plate said “bingo queen”

SQUIP comes back on in this weird jacket

New song here! Synched Up!

The SQUIP fixes his vision and he doesn’t need the glasses

It’s hard to describe the song, but it’s about friends being “synched” and how everyone is hiding something underneath.

You hear Michael a couple times, but you don’t see him

Talking about Mr. Reyes “his dreams are dead. That’s why he eats so many hot pockets” (hot pockets is sing-song)

When Jeremy says he was doing performance art, Christine has her own idea for a performance art piece. You don’t hear anything about the idea until then end when she’s squatting and shouts “and then I give birth to the bowling ball!”

You don’t hear it because the SQUIP is talking to Jeremy saying she’s unusual because she doesn’t seem to care what anyone else thinks. 

During play rehearsal: “bring me patient zero!” “cough!” (she says cough). Then Brooke says her line in stressed iambic pentameter.

They had little hearts for Guy I’d Kinda Be Into

The SQUIP was all ready to point to Jeremy at the end and then was like “wtf” when she said Jake

They had bleachers for the football field for the scene before and during Upgrade

“She wants to make out with you” “Ive never made out with anyone in my life”

End of Brooke’s solo in the beginning, they changed. “So kiiiiiiiiiiiiss meeeeeeee.” *giant pause and then repeated melody* “like noooooooooooooooow” 

They added dialogue after Jake and Christine which lead to this layering thing of them all singing “I’m tired of being the person that everyone thinks that I am”

Loser Geek Whatever is so much more emotional than even when i saw it off broadway.

The SQUIP came back out in a very elaborate dress/jacket thing. It was cool

They played a jazzy version of the Pants Song during intermission

Christine dressed as a sexy princess 

They added more harmonies to Halloween

Chloe was wasted for Do You Wanna Hang

The SQUIP fell onto the bed after going into factory setting

They took out the 

Michael In the Bathroom... if you have a chance to see George Salazar perform this live, I highly recommend

Christine and Jeremy communicating through sounds is beautiful and just... a mood. 

There was a sparkly red bra behind them

Rich takes a pumpkin and sets the house on fire. 

For Smartphone hour, the changed the first verse of the chorus to “Rich set a fire and he burned down Jake’s house” which helps me immensely (fun fact, someone once thought I was crazy because my friend once texted me “did Rich set his own house on fire, or Jake’s house?” and they saw it and thought my friends were arsonists. I mean, I am somewhat insane, but... not for that reason)

Michael and the dad’s female characters came down from the ceiling.

Michael had shark slippers, Rich had unicorn slippers, and Jeremy’s dad was in a onesie that said “naughty”

I have said this before and I will say this again, it takes real courage to be on stage in front of a few hundred people and sing whilst in your boxers

Michael was wearing weed socks and was smoking of course

Jeremy’s dad thought he was burning incense lol

Christine: “Everyone is hurting and I don’t know how to help. So I guess I’ll just do theatre.” got such a laugh

They basically rewrote all the lyrics for Pitiful Children

Robotic kick-line

Christine knows what a SQUIP is because someone in her theatre camp took one and is now in a mental hospital... coincidence?

The SQUIP comes down from the sky and his chest lights up

Michael breaks through the paper scenery for “MICHAEL MAKES AN ENTRANCE!”

Everyone in zombie costumes for the fight scene makes the parallels to the game so much better

Rich has the lisp!

(Headcannon #3 they use; Rich and Michael); “anti-social headphones kid... is he single?” *sees him* “oh hiiiiii.” “Hi Rich,” *very awkwardly* “Bye Rich!” If you don’t want it, you don’t have to see it. But if you do ship it... oh my god.

He puts on his glasses again!

(Headcannon #4 they use; calling the group the squad); they rewrote the verse for Chloe, Jake, Brooke, and Jenna. they say to Jeremy “we’re your squad” not exactly the SQUIP squad, but still

When asked what her SQUIP looked like, Christine said RBG

For the date, Jeremy suggests the performance art she said she wanted to do.

At the end, there’s a projection of the SQUIP in the background

I’m tagging people who liked the previous post or commented so... Tag list: @molly-wonder-queer @72748-blog @simranthefangirl

[curiousdamage]

Cara & Kreese 46

Fluff/Angst Drabble 17

#46: “Dance With Me.”

Fandom: Karate Kid- Becca Verse

Pairing: John and Cara Kreese

Cara looked over her shoulder and smiled.  She had felt that Green Beret watching her from the moment she had joined some of the other women for a drink. She hadn't seen him in a few weeks, not since Racine and Silver had been moved to the recovery ward. 

She looked over her shoulder again, this time catching his eye and smiling. She got up from her seat and crossed the floor to the jukebox. Dropping a few coins in the slot, she pushed the button, selecting her favorite song.

She walked over to the table where he was sitting and held out her hand.

“Dance with me, Soldier.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant, I don’t dance,” he replied, looking her over. She was wearing a white t-shirt, red lipstick, and jeans so short they were barely able to be called pants. Honestly, he wouldn't mind her being pressed up against him for a few minutes, but he could hardly back down now.

"Well, that's where you're wrong, Captain," she replied, putting a hand on her hip. "You see, I want to dance and Silver, there, looks like he wouldn't make it to the dance floor. By the way, if he gets sick from this little outing and ends up back on my ward, I’m gonna blame you. Racine already has a dance partner, twins in fact," she motioned to his crutches, then to the pilot talking to Silver, "And Sullivan is my brother, if you couldn't tell from the matching name tags, that just leaves you and since this is still technically a hospital, I'm in charge. So, hoist your butt up out of that chair and come dance with me." She took his hand and pulled him toward her.

"Well, I don't think I can refuse such a direct order, ma’am," he grinned, letting her lead him to the small dance floor. She turned to face him, putting her arms around his neck.

"So, are you going to be stepping on my feet? Should I have changed into my boots before asking you to dance?" she smirked.

“First of all, I didn't say I can't dance, I said I don't dance," he replied. “And you didn't ask. You commanded. You commanded me to dance with you."

"Sorry," she laughed.

"I didn't say I minded," he smirked.

"Oh, really?" She tightened her hold on him. "I’ll have to remember that. So, if I command you to kiss me?"

"If it’s at a hospital, I guess I'll have to comply," he shot back.

"Good to know," she teased. She pressed up on her toes and kissed his cheek, then laid her head on his shoulder.

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

Cara stood in the doorway, watching John as he sat by their daughter's bed, just staring at her as if mesmerized.

“You know, she'll still be here in the morning, Johnny," she smiled. "At least she hasn't left me yet."

He looked up at her and smiled, then looked back at Becca. "Cara, she is just so…, I can't believe she's really ours."

"Well, with those gray eyes, she's yours at least." She walked over to him, putting her arms around his shoulders, resting her cheek against his hair.

"When she was born, I think I held her for, like, eight hours straight and cried when they made me send her back to the nursery. The nurses kept telling me her eyes were going to turn blue. I hated that. I know they all dismissed me as a hysterical new mother, but I so hoped they wouldn't turn." She ran her fingers through his hair. “Come on. Let her sleep. She'll be awake way too early."

She led him out of the room.

"Don't turn off the light," she said, catching his hand. "She's scared of the dark."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I…," he shrugged and motioned around. He had no idea what he was doing. He vaguely remembered Cara mentioning that in a letter. Weren't fathers supposed to remember these things?

“Hey," She put her hand on his cheek. "It’s okay. You'll learn. I'm still learning and as soon as we learn, she'll change and everything we know will be old news and we will have to learn it all over again."

"Yeah, okay," he nodded with a sigh. It just seemed like he'd missed so much already.

Then they were alone. They hadn't been alone since Cara had left Viet Nam. Letters and phone calls were nice but being face to face again was different. The easy relationship they'd had in the past, was replaced with awkward silence. It had been more than three years after all.

“So…,"

"I…,"

They both started to speak at the same time.

"You go," They said in unison again. Both laughed nervously.

“This never used to be so hard," John said, drumming his fingers on the kitchen countertop. "You know, I don't mind going…," 

"No, John," Cara interrupted. As awkward as it was, she didn't want him leaving, even for a night. "This family has been apart too long already. I mean unless you want…,"

"No, no, you're right."

Cue another awkward silence. She looked around and smiled. Flicking on the small radio she kept on the counter, she held out her hand, "Dance with me?"

"Is that an order?" He smiled.

“A request," she admitted then grinned. "But I can make it an order if that’s what it takes.”

He took her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I missed you."

“I missed you, too," she replied, pressing up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Welcome home, John."

Home.  He was home.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Somebody to love pt.2 ; Queen x reader x oc male

*Author’s note*

Okay people we have unfortunately reached the last update for the day. Now again I hope to have the next chapter up by my bday hopefully but I can’t make any promises cause I’ve got papers due in all my classes in the upcoming weeks all this month.

Now after the emotional roller coaster that I put you all through the last chapter, I bring you a FLUFFY fic. But I want you all to do something for me. I have linked in the fic the Queen concert from Montreal 1981 the full length version of the song Somebody to love, I want you ALL TO watch and listen to it if you can cause it will help with what I had in mind, especially towards the end of the fic. TRUST ME YOU’LL THANK ME LATER. Thank you all for that and I hope you all have enjoyed the binge reading that I have given you guys my lovely readers, followers and tagged people. Hope it lighten ups your day like Queen themselves.

Taglist (as usual open)

@onebigfangirlworld

@mr-badguymercury

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

@dj-lowkey

@5sos-wdw

________________________________________________

*February 14th, 1984*

I woke up in my hotel room to feel arms wrapped around my waist. ��I moaned tiredly until I felt those arms wrap around me tighter bringing me closer to the person’s chest before I felt a series of delicate and gentle kisses go up my neck.  I smiled which in turned woke me up as I turned to see Jack.

The sun peeking through the white curtains made him look like an angel sent from heaven.

“G’morning.” He said with a smile.

“Morning,” he kissed my temple and I moaned out. “Ohh I can’t believe I still get to wake up next to you.”

“I hope you mean that as a compliment otherwise I’m offended.”

“Of course it’s a compliment you rotter! In fact that’s the highest compliment you will ever get from me.” I teased as I turned around and faced him.

God I can’t believe its been six months since we started dating each other and nine months since we first met at that bar.  I can’t believe that I managed to snag me a really great guy who has made me feel so much love in just one look than Adam ever did in the first three months.

“How did I ever get so lucky to get you as mine?” I said as I cupped his face in my hand.

“Just right place right time, I’m really glad I went into that bar that day. Literally the best night of my life.” I awed at him as our foreheads touched then just before we were about to kiss, the door knocked loudly and I heard Freddie’s voice say.

“You two better not be fucking in there!”

“Fuck off Fred!” I yelled at him.

“Naughty, naughty language darling, whatever happened to my sweet little Rock angel?” I rolled my eyes and got up.  I was wearing Jack’s Led Zeppelin shirt and nothing else, I went ahead and unlocked the door and opened it just a crack as I said.

“What do you want Fred? It’s 9am and not even you are up this early?”

“Remember darling we have an early sound check to get to because apparently new management for Madison Square Garden fucked up the last show and I don’t want a repeat of the Rainbow 74 concert regarding power failure, less we get a temperamental Roger on our hands.”

“Alright let us get ready and we’ll meet you boys down in the lobby.” I shut the door and I turned back towards Jack and said. “You heard the hysterical queen, so I shower first then you?”

“Why not shower together? We’d save water that way.” Jack said with a suggestive smirk.  I playfully tossed my pillow at him.

“You’re even dirtier than Roger.” I laughed as I headed into the bathroom and proceeded to get myself cleaned up before the concert tonight.

Later that day we arrived at Madison Square Garden and the minute I walked on stage, it felt like I was transported back in time to just 3 years ago when Freddie brought me up on stage to perform my first song.  God I can’t believe it was just 3 years, it felt longer than that but I am so grateful to once again grace this stage once more as a popular Rockstar instead of a new star.

“Brings back memories doesn’t it?” I turned around to see Freddie standing behind me.

“I still can’t believe it’s only been three years, it feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You’ve come such a long way since then darling, and the boys and I couldn’t be prouder of you.” I smiled as I felt Fred’s arms wrap around me and he gave me a quick kiss at the top of my head as he swayed me gently from side to side.

Later on in the day, Fred and I were doing some vocal warmups together while the rest of the boys were finishing up getting dressed and ready for the concert.  Jack was sitting on the couch right beside Deacy as he was giving him another tutoring tip on the bass guitar.

Soon one of the stage handlers told us that we had five minutes left till the show began.  Deacy and Jack cut the tutoring short and the boys and I left our dressing room and as we hung out backstage I got myself pumped up and ready for the show, holding my gifted red special that Brian gave me in Japan ready to go on first.

As the lights went off and the crowd cheered loudly, I began playing my first song “Who I am” and the concert officially began.

The concert went on successfully and now I had come up along with the boys as well as Jack to do a combine duet of singing “Somebody to love”.

“Thank you everyone, this next song is our Rock Angel’s favorite and we’re so proud to welcome a new bassist. He’s been a couple of the shows already and he’s very special to our little angel, please give it up for Mr. Jack Kline!” Jack soon came out onto the stage and waved to the crowd. I smiled at him and we both hugged each other as Freddie sat down at the piano and began to start the song.

Play concert *REQUIRED*

*Freddie*

Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Each morning I get up I die a little Can barely stand on my feet

Take a look in the mirror and cry

Lord, what you're doing to me I have spent all my years in believing you I just can't get no relief, Lord! Somebody (somebody) ooh somebody (somebody) Can anybody find me somebody to love?

        I then came up to the microphone and I began singing while my boys backed me up.

*Me*

I work hard (she works hard) every day of my life I work 'til I ache in my bones At the end (at the end of the day) I take home my hard earned pay all on my own I get down (down) on my knees (knees) And I start to pray 'Til the tears run down from my eyes Lord, somebody (somebody), ooh somebody Can anybody find me somebody to love?

        I held the note and gave it a nice vibrato as Roger pounded the drums and at the next verse I gave it a little more soul as I put my body more into the song as I strutted across the stage.  At the ‘yeah, yeah’ part I pounded my fist in the air and could see from the lights people following my lead.

*Me*

(She works hard every day) Every day

I try and I try and I try But everybody wants to put me down They say I'm going crazy They say I got a lot of water in my brain Ah, got no common sense I got nobody left to believe in Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Brian then began the guitar solo coming up front of the stage.  I smiled and joined along side him, the two of us keeping eye contact with each other occasionally smiling at each other as Fred soon came up and sang the next part while we backed him up.

*Freddie*

Oh, Lord Ooh somebody, ooh somebody Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Got no feel, I got no rhythm I just keep losing my beat (you just keep losing and losing) I'm OK, I'm alright (he's alright, he's alright) I ain't gonna face no defeat I just gotta get out of this prison cell One day (someday) I'm gonna be free, Lord!

        Roger pounded the drums in a steady beat as I raised my hands in the air and began clapping to the rhythm of Rog’s drumbeats.  The crowd echoed me back and Fred soon said in the mic.

        “Alright New York we want to see all those hands. Every single person clapping along. Three. Four!” At the bridge we all sang along and I could hear the crowd singing back to us.

        I would look towards Jack and he’d wink at me and I’d do the same by blowing him a quick kiss as I went back to singing getting ready for my solo.

Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love love love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Somebody somebody

Somebody somebody Somebody find me Somebody find me somebody to love

Can anybody find me

*Me*

Somebody to

I felt Jack’s hand then take mine and when I turned to face him, I noticed that he now had the bass guitar behind him and he was down on one knee.  Deacy then quickly gave him his microphone and Jack said into the microphone as the song suddenly stopped.

“(Y/n), words cannot describe what being with you these past several months have been like. But the one thing I knew that mattered was that you have made me happier than I ever thought I could be. And—and if you let me, I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way,” it was then Jack pulled out from his pocket a small black box.

The crowd all gasped and cheered as Jack opened the box and inside of it was a beautiful sterling silver engagement ring. I held my hands to my mouth as he finally finished.

“(Y/n) (l/n) my Rock Angel, will you marry me?”

*Jack’s POV*

I finally did it, I finally worked up the courage to finally propose to (y/n).  I can still remember back to when I first asked each member of Queen for their blessing before I did this, wanting to do this properly.  And thanks to the guys, this wouldn’t even be happening.

~Flashback to 2 weeks ago in Seattle, Washington~

We had just gotten done with the Seattle concert.  God I was so nervous but I knew I had to tell them, it’d be wrong not to ask them, they’re practically her family since she’s told me her parents are gone and her aunt and uncle disowned her for pursuing a music career in college.

I found Deacy cleaning up his bass guitar when I approached him.

“Hey Deacy,” he looked up and said.

“Ahh Jack come in, come in I was just cleaning up my bass before I packed her up. Hey great job out there on your first performance, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, hey John can I—can I ask you something?”

“Sure what is it?” My heart pounded and I was just about to race out of that room faster than a cheetah but I couldn’t back out of this, otherwise I may not get another ounce of courage to ask them again.

“Actually it’s something the rest of the guys need to hear, but not (y/n).”

“Of course, come on let’s head into the dressing room, they’re all probably still in there.” He set his bass guitar into its case and he lead me down the hallways towards the Queen dressing room.  Once we got there, Freddie and Roger were in their bathrobes and Brian was wiping his head with a towel of the sweat from the show.

“Ahh there he is. Jackie darling you and (y/n) were amazing up there!” Freddie proclaimed.

“Thanks Freddie.” I said with a smile.

“So you got the adrenaline rush yet kid?” asked Roger.

“A bit, is that what it’s like after you play for thousands of people?” I asked.

“Every night, your lovely lady can tell it better after her first performance.” Said Brian.

“Lads, Jack has something he’d like to tell us.” With that the boys of Queen gave me their full attention as they all sat down and looked right at me.

“Okay well……umm ehehe, well I know it hasn’t been a long time since we’ve been dating and hell it’s barely been a year since we’ve known each other but. I really, really care about (y/n) and….with each of your blessings. I would…..I want to ask (y/n) to marry me.”  They each looked at me intensely.

Ahh shit, I guess I should’ve waited.

The boys were silent as they each looked at me with either stoic faces, or wide eyes.  Brian who was one of the stoic ones said as he inhaled a breath of air.

“Could you give us a moment, please Jack?” I looked at him and he did his usual quick eyebrow quirk as a way to emphasize his point. Without saying another word, I got up from my seat and left their dressing room shutting the door behind me and waited.

*3rd Person POV*

The second Jack shut the door, Deacy turned to Brian and said.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I just wanted to see if he’d do it.” Brian joked. Roger scoffed out a chuckle. “So…..what do you guys think?”

“I honestly hoped this day wouldn’t come.” Said Roger.

“But it was inevitable Roger dear, we knew this day had to come.” Stated Freddie.

“But why did it have to come so soon?” Roger whined out. The boys then looked at each other in silent deliberation.

*Jack’s POV*

It felt like an eternity had passed by but when I looked down at my watch it was just ten minutes.  I sat beside the dressing room along the wall when I heard the door open. I quickly stood up and straightened myself out and Deacy soon came out, his hands in the pocket of his jacket.

“Will the defendant please reenter the court room? We the jury have reached our final decision.” I swallowed heavily but followed him back inside.  Deacy set me back down at the chair that now stood in front of the couch where Brian and Deacy took his seat beside him, Roger sat at my right while Freddie was to my left.

“We’ve decided…..” Roger started. I turned towards him anticipating what would happen, “What did we decide?” he questioned as he turned to Deacy.

“Jack; you know that (y/n) has no other family member living or accepting of her choices. We the band members of Queen came to look at her as either a daughter, niece or sister the first day she came to us as an intern. And out of any boy in the world she could’ve chosen, any guy who would come to us to ask her for her hand in marriage…..we’re glad that it’s you.” Deacy said.  I looked at my mentor to see a smile spread across his face as he said, “It’s a yes from me.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“You’ve made her happier than we’ve ever seen her Jack. You both clearly belong together. You have my approval.” Brian stated with a gentle smile as well.  A smile soon came across my face and I felt a hand at my shoulder.  I turned to see Freddie standing over me and he said.

“It’s obvious our little Rock Angel loves you, and you clearly love her. Just make sure you give her the ring she deserves when you tell her.” I nodded and that’s when all of our attention turned to Roger.

Out of the four members of Queen, it was Roger’s approval I was seeking for the most.  He’s acted like a father to (y/n), and I knew that if I didn’t win his approval, then this proposal wouldn’t happen until he said he accepted me. Because I could never make her choose between the guys and me.

“Oh it’s my turn now?”

“Come of it Roger and just say it! You’re leaving the poor boy in suspense!” Freddie groaned out.  Roger sighed heavily and he said.

“(Y/n) has been my partner in crime, my sidekick, my best girl. I’ve seen her as my daughter and yet I share no blood ties with her whatsoever. I’ve looked after her for what feels like her entire life even though it’s only been 4 years. And I almost can’t bear to let her go so soon.” He stopped right there leaving me in anticipation.

Silence rang throughout the dressing room except for the light hums of the AC.  That’s when Roger looked me dead in the eye and said.

“But I think it’s time for me to finally step down, and let a new man take my place.”

At that moment, I knew what he meant.

Roger may not be the sentimental type, except towards (y/n) but hearing him call me a man instead of kid like he’s had since the beginning, I knew I had his acceptance.

I breathed out so much air, I thought I was going to pass out. I couldn’t believe it.  I had gotten Queen’s approval, (y/n)’s brother, uncles and father figures approval to marry her.

“Welcome to the family Jack!” Freddie cheered as he picked me up and immediately embraced me.  I let out a soft laugh as I hugged him back and that’s when Brian came up to me and the two of us hugged it out.  He patted my back and I did the same to him when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to come face to face with Deacy.

Brian stepped back and Deacy shook my shoulder before bringing me into a hug as he said in my ear.

“I told you, bass players always get the girl.” As we separated he gave me a quick wink and a grin telling me that he somehow knew this would all happen.  It was then Roger and I now stood face to face with each other.

Roger extended his hand out to me and I accepted what he wanted. I took his hand and the two of us shook on it, but suddenly I felt his arm wrap around me and was actually being hugged my Roger Taylor.

“Look after her for the both of us, promise me you’ll do that.” I heard his whisper to me.

“I promise.” I vowed.

It was after that they helped me with the best way to propose and that would be at the very first show (y/n) performed at, Madison Square Garden and since they were performing on Valentines day, it would be twice as romantic just like in a fairytale according to Freddie.  

They also helped me pick out the perfect ring by going in disguise to the jewelers with me to pick out the perfect ring and I managed to get me a sterling silver engagement ring with a big sized diamond ring at the center and engraved at the sides were mini diamonds with an intertwined band.

~End of Flashback 1st POV~

I couldn’t believe it.  Jack was proposing to me right here, right now.  Tears spilled down my face as smiled widely and I nodded not trusting my voice.

At my answer, the entire stadium went wild as Jack took the ring out and placed it on my left ring finger.  Once it was on, he stood up and I wrapped my arms around him kissing him with as much passion as I could before embracing him as the two of us swayed and the boys went straight to the last verse of the song.

Both Roger and Freddie alternating between the lead vocals.  Freddie would scatter some parts of the lyrics while Roger kept on beat with the amazing background vocals.

*Roger (Fred)*

Find me (find me)

Somebody to love (somebody to love) Find me

Somebody to love (To love, to love, to love)

Find me somebody to love (Ooh)

Find me somebody to love

(Can you find me, find me, find me, find me)

Find me somebody to love

Somebody to love (Ooh, somebody to love) *Fred (Roger)*

Somebody to love (Yeah) Find me, find me, (Yeah, yeah)

Find me somebody to love *Roger*

Yeah, yeah

By the end of the song, the boys rocked out hard. Roger played a long ending solo, Brian had his guitar carry the rift of the last part of the song for what felt like forever, Freddie banged on the piano with his forearm before leaving it and going towards Roger and doing their little stage acts they always do toward each other as Roger kept hitting the cymbals rapidly.

Once the song ended, people were roaring with applause, cameras were flashing and Freddie soon gestured towards Jack and me.

“Ladies and gentlemen give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Kline!”

After the concert was over, there was a small celebration for the engagement, Freddie giving out a small toast to Jack and I at a nearby bar.  And after the celebration, Jack had a mixtape playing on the stereo and for the rest of the night we swayed in a gentle dancing holding onto each other before ending it cuddling together in the bed.

[the-everqueen]

asw meme: 48? any pairing/'verse is cool, but i first thought of ghosts?

48. life would be easier if i were easier (fact)

He comes to her after he dies.

It is not a tearful reunion or bittersweet goodbye. There is screaming, fumbling in the dark, coldness so severe and steep it makes Eliza’s heart seize in her chest. Alexander cries out, his voice wavering between banshee wail and please, Betsey, it’s me. It has been a week since the funeral, the first night Eliza managed to fall asleep in their bed rather than with one of the children, rocking them through their furious, uncomprehending grief. She could never stop being a mother, not even to mourn the loss of being a wife. But loss is lost as Alexander floats above her, his face rendered familiar through pain, as he tries and fails to grasp at her wrists.

Eliza thinks, I cannot go mad. The children can’t lose us both so soon.

She pulls the covers over her head, squeezes her eyes shut tight tight tight, like a child hiding from monsters. He wails, sad or enraged or desperate, plunging the room into a frost that makes her tremble beneath the blankets. Or maybe it’s terror. She grits her teeth and presses palms against her ears. There is no rest for the widowed.

Alexander isn’t the first.

She remembers when he got the letter, the one that informed them John Laurens had been killed in action. A waste, everyone said, as though he were a bank note foolishly spent and not a man half-mad with fever. Alexander was inconsolable. He threw himself into the Annapolis Convention, and then the Philadelphia Convention, and then the Federalist essays — must there be another one this week, what happened to twenty-five, I thought this was a collaborative project, you have to sleep, Alexander. And his eyes bright with exhaustion and fervor as he insisted, I just need to write something down, one more thing. Back then, when she left him in his office, making the careful trek upstairs to bed alone, she saw the figure in the corner of her eyes, hovering by her husband’s side. She never met John Laurens, but she recognized the leonine eyes and wild curls from the miniature Alexander had shown her — and even if she hadn’t, the uniform would have been a clue.

He appeared at intervals until the Constitution was ratified. That night, as Alexander collapsed on the bed like a puppet cut from its strings, Laurens came to his side with an expression of both fondness and disappointment. His ghostly fingers brushed at a stray piece of hair over Alexander’s slack mouth, the gesture familiar even if it had no material effect. Eliza watched him, motionless as a doe that’s heard a twig snap. For the first time, he met her gaze. He mouthed something she did not understand.

“What was that?” she whispered.

He repeated it.

Eliza swallowed hard. She felt a sudden, shameful gratitude that there was the ultimate barrier of Death between her and John Laurens. “I’ll tell him,” she said. She hoped that would be enough, but Laurens watched her for another moment, as though weighing the worth of her soul. Then he faded, leaving a breath of cool air in his wake.

When Alexander comes back to her, she realizes she never told him Laurens’s last words.

“I’m sorry,” Alexander tells her the second time. “I should have realized it might be a shock. But you have to understand, I had to make sure you were okay and assure you that I was okay —”

“Alexander, please.”

“Right.” He drops his gaze contritely. His long, dark lashes fan over his cheekbones but cast no shadows. There is a general translucent quality to him that’s hard to ignore in the afternoon light; Eliza can see the parlor settee through his shoulder. She concentrates on that, instead of the familiar twist of his mouth as he bites his lower lip.

Her husband is dead. Her husband is dead.

Her husband is standing in the parlor, wearing the same black suit she peeled from his body as Doctor Hosack worked to staunch the bleeding. Eliza recalls the iron sour smell of blood and feels as though she might faint.

Of course, Alexander cannot be silent for long. “You got the letter?”

She lets out a hysterical laugh. “Yes, Alexander, I got your letter. I suppose I should thank you for sparing me the wait to see you in a better world.”

He winces. “I just meant —”

“Oh, I know what you meant. You only ever mean anything.” Her voice is pitching higher and sharper with the anxiety splitting her carefully constructed seams. “When has your so-called honor changed my opinion of you? How dare you justify yourself to me after the fact! When you know I couldn’t possibly hate you for it because you’re dead, you’re gone, you left me and the children for your stupid honor…” She bursts into tears, hands coming up to cover her face.

“Shh, shh, oh Bets.” Flutter touches of cold raise goosebumps on her arms, shoulders, the back of her neck. Without looking, she knows that Alexander is hovering around her, eyebrows knit together in desperate resolve to Fix Things. “Hey, you’re all right, it’ll be all right. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I don’t want to be strong,” she sobs, but her tears are ebbing. She cried for so many nights, alone in their bed, face muffled in the pillows, that now she can only weep in short cloudbursts, as sudden as a summer storm and just as quick to evaporate. She lowers her hands, and Alexander gives her a tentative smile. “There we go.”

“This is your fault,” she says. His smile slips away.

“In my defense, I didn’t think Burr would shoot me. I thought he’d dither over it like everything else in his life.”

“This isn’t a courtroom, you don’t have a defense.”

“Darling, if I’d known —”

“Don’t pretend. Don’t pretend that would have changed things. You’ve always prized your reputation, as though that’s ever mattered to me. I married you when you had nothing but your brilliance and ambition.” She swipes angrily at the wetness on her cheeks. “I fell in love with you. And I knew you’d go far, because how could you not, but all I ever wanted was to be your peace of mind.”

He reaches for her. She jerks back. “No, it’s — you died. You’re not here.”

He looks more hurt at that simple statement of fact than her previous accusation. His face falls, his shoulders droop. He becomes so transparent he seems little more than an outline, a preliminary sketch over the carpet and wallpaper.

There’s a knock on the parlor door. “Ma’am?” the maid’s voice calls, quiet and trembling. “Are you — is everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” Eliza says. Isn’t she always? She turns back to Alexander, but he’s gone, the slight shiver in the closed parlor the only sign he was here. She feels a burst of nonsensical panic — what if those were her last words to her husband? What if he thinks she doesn’t miss him so terribly sometimes it’s hard to breathe? But those questions fade, replaced with a calm certainty.

Alexander will return.

“Have you seen them? The others who have…passed?”

Eliza does not say Philip’s name, but she relies on Alexander to know what she means. Over the years their conversations have taken on the faintly surreal air of a guessing game, or riddles, both of them circling around the topics that weigh on them the most. Alexander’s visits have become shorter and less frequent — she can’t be sure whether he’s losing his tether to this side of eternity, or whether he’s reaching some limit on crossing over. Eliza has been Dutch Reformed from childhood, but encountering her dead husband makes her wonder whether her theology might need revision. Maybe his soul is passing into Heaven, out of some Purgatorial state. Maybe his visits are just a more painful and protracted goodbye, as he watches her and the children keep on living without him.

Alexander frowns. He watches as she tallies numbers in the Society’s paybook, her pen scratching neat figures in their proper columns. She feels a shiver of frisson at their reversed positions: how many times did they have conversations while he labored over their finances or scribbled down another idea? But she doesn’t give it words, not even in teasing.

She pauses. “Alexander.”

“Mm? Oh. I — I can’t say.”

It is Eliza’s turn to frown. Alexander is never at a loss for words; even on his deathbed, he managed to keep speaking, until the sight of the children all lined up at the door overwhelmed him. She wants to ask whether he’s all right — but what can she do if he isn’t? A chill washes over her arms.

A moment later, she realizes it’s Alexander, embracing her from behind. His mouth gives a puff of cold air when he murmurs in her ear, “It’s not what I imagined. There are rules about what — but I didn’t expect this, getting to see — You’ve done so much. I’m so proud of you, Bets.”

Cool lips brush a kiss against her cheek, turning her tears to brittle tracks of frost.

She’s never understood Alexander’s sense of running out of time. There is so much to do, yet the years stretch on, no fin in sight. If Alexander’s personal Hell is to be cut short, obscured, forgotten, hers might be to outlive everyone she’s loved, unable to cross over to the Other Side.

“I’m so tired,” she says. “I want to see Hamilton.”

He comes to her before the end.

She doesn’t know what woke her until she sees him at her bedside. He smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. The moonlight brings out the greyish streaks in his hair. “Hi, darling,” he murmurs. He looks, impossibly, both like the dashing young Colonel she fell in love with and the older, more subdued figure she kissed on the night he wrote his last letter to her. “It’s time.”

She takes his hand. It’s warm and solid in hers.