#transport in general. Though even then I knew enough that I would not be a good architect/city planner. so I guess my adoration for those

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.

[guiltysungho]

— boynextdoor when you need help to sleep

genre : tags. fluff, suggestive (18+), established relationship, comfort (?)

wordcount. 150 - 300

a/n. you might feel the quality degrade as you continue but i really just wanted to post something. its not too bad i hope, enjoy 😭

@onedoornet

sungho is used to your tossing and turning in bed whenever falling asleep becomes a task, and whether it’s a nap or full night’s rest he knows what to do to get your melatonin up.

he’ll keep you close, enough to feel body rise with each tired breath. gentle pats on your head as he sings a sweet melody to you, humming the instrumental part quietly for you to travel with the sound.

earlier in your relationship you had told him about this song, your childhood nights filled the same harmony he sung to you. he’d learnt the song just for you, for nights like this one when sleeping wasn’t so easy.

you remember the first night you heard the song from him, such a cherished memory. you dreamt of wonders that night, of you and him in a fairytale where that song played throughout the kingdom.

even when he was away from home where he couldn’t hold you, his voice would still be at your reach. after seeing how much you enjoyed his singing, he’d recorded the song for you, saving it on your phone so you could always sleep soundly even when you were miles apart.

when you can’t sleep neither can riwoo, he needs to see you sleeping soundly for the slumber to settle in. he doesn’t know exactly how to make you fall asleep but he tries to figure it out based on general opinions.

so when it’s time to sleep the whole mood in the room switches. rain ambiance noises added to a white noise in the background, cool toned led lights, air purifier, assuming at least one thing would work so got everything.

most of the time you end up laughing, watching him put on every appliance in the room to set the mood right just makes you smile. checking with you on the settings, asking if you want to change the rain sounds to fire place sounds since its winter.

while laughing doesn’t help you sleep, whenever you did fall asleep you were at ease. no matter what happened in the day, you could look forward to the sleeping sessions because of the joy they brought.

at times he would go the extra length and start counting sheep out loud for the both of you, giggling together at each number when you should be sleeping.

the truth was you knew exactly how to fall asleep, you’d fall asleep in the first couple minutes, just lying down on his chest, arm around his torso, but you liked the whole drama of it all so you would let it happen.

jaehyun is like a homemade podcast, you’ll lay there between his thighs while he tells you all about everything. sometimes he’d tell you about his day, depending on how interesting it was and other times he’d tell stories.

he knows you like listening to him so plays with that, telling you all sorts of things that grow more unbelievable as he goes on. at times you’re unsure if he is even saying coherent words or just making sounds that sound like words.

it never did bother you though, if anything you loved it the more incoherent, the easier the slumber came. you would let him play with your hair as he told a story you’d never heard of before, braiding it to the best of his abilities.

something about having his fingers tangled up in your hair and his voice so close to your ears made sleeping such an easy task, you wonder how it was ever hard for you.

you’d fall asleep to his sweet voice, bedtime stories from your one and only. even when he’s far from you he finds a way to make it work, late night calls were he'd just take you along with him, narrating his every movement.

he knows by your soft hums through the line that it works just as well so he continues till all he can hear is your quiet snoring.

slow relaxing tunes fill your room whenever it’s bedtime. you get so close together under the sheets, cuddling as you let the music transport you to a deep slumber.

most of the time that’s all you need to fall asleep, his arms around you and sweet melodies playing from the speaker. the only downside being that it wasn’t an immediate solution to your insomnia.

for taesan there’s only one way to help you sleep immediately and if the tiredness is too much for you he’s always willing to help with a little stimulation. he’ll help you relax completely and release all tension from your body.

he finds it cute the way you always fall asleep immediately after an orgasm, the way your small hands would wrap around his wrist when you felt it coming and stay wrapped there once you passed out. if you need an orgasm to fall asleep he'll give it you with the most pleasure.

whenever it came to it his main focus would be you, wanting you to feel the most pleasure so the slumber could settle as soon as you orgasm. he plays with your most sensitive parts, teasing and pleasing you, kissing you wherever you ask for it.

when you finally finish your eyes are already shut as you slowly regain your breath falling into a deep sleep. he gives you a kiss on the forehead to telling you did well before letting you sleep comfortably.

leehan is particularly gentle with you when you're sleepy, to be honest he enjoys listening to your little yawns and groans that come whenever you were tired so he's a little more unserious in his ways of helping.

when you're tired in bed with him he'll whisper to you while you're craddled in his arms but it's more of an asmr session that a soothing moment. while his gentle touches help you relax, the sound of his voice by your ear whispering the script to a cartoon movie keeps the sleepyness from reaching it summit.

occasionally he will add sound effects to the show, mimicking sounds of bubbles with his mouth and flicking his cheek with his finger to remake the sound of water drops, trying his best to not burst out into laughter.

so most nights instead of sleeping you're giggling in a dark room with your boyfriend whispering the script of nemo to you telling you to imagine the movie while he narrates. with all the laughing you do you always end up falling asleep in the middle of his story, imagining your self in the movies.

he never lets you miss out on his late night asmr, even when he isn't with you he send you voice memos whispering to you in the most erotic way while telling you to tuck yourself in bed tight. giving you some sort of guided meditation session so you can sleep soundly.

[wreckmetoji]

Close to Heaven 

A fic in which Vash finally gets what he’s been yearning for and then some.

↳ Vash the Stampede/Reader

↳ Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader

content warning. gender-neutral pronouns, afab reader, mild overstimulation, unprotected sex, profanity, alien anatomy, whatever the plant equivalent of a creampie is, shameless smut, fluff, slight angst, wolfwood tops vash and vash tops you, everyone is winning

I recommend reading Wanna Be Yours for context 7.2k words

Life was unforgiving, there was no such thing as being dealt a good hand. At least, not unless it was at the expense of another person. Vash knew this better than anyone, but long ago had he accepted he wasn't here to have a good life. He was here to fix what was broken, help the people that needed it, and while that didn't always go as planned, he always tried his best.

You just pick yourself and dust yourself off, that's what I admire about you the most, Vash. Even eight months later, Vash could still hear your voice in the back of his head when he went on with his daily life. He'd hear you chide him while he poorly patched himself up in alleyways, he'd hear you tell him to eat more when he denied himself of decent meals, or yell at him to get up and keep going when he fell. It wasn't easy, of course it wasn't, making that decision to leave. He wanted you to have the best life he couldn't give you, and if you managed to find that happiness, then he was more than willing to cut his losses and hope that one day he would run into you, see you flourishing and happy and alive. So, he continued, hopping from one town to the other, helping when and where he could. Vash heaved a sigh, pushing his way through the doors of the tavern he was staying in. Today had been a bust, nearly managing to get roped into an encounter with July Military Police, he was completely unable to secure himself a vehicle or mode of transportation out of the city. He was running low on money, he would really only feasibly be able to stay at this inn a couple more days before he would need to start running small jobs around the city. That would surely be risky in itself, knowing that if he were to be exposed to the general public for longer than a couple of hours, someone was bound to try and turn him in. He'd leave tomorrow, even if it was by foot.  Shuffling over to the bar, he plopped down in one of the tall stools, waving at the barkeeper he had come to enjoy chatting with over the last few days. She was friendly, older, definitely making more of her money off of regulars and locals than tips and travelers. She had mentioned it was refreshing to see a new face that wasn't sour. "Hey Nadina," Vash greeted as she sauntered over, glass and cloth in hand, "Things been busy today?"  This earned him a playful scoff, to which he chuckled at, knowing the two occupied tables covered in cards and bottle caps were enough of a tell. "If it was busy, I wouldn't have to work here every day," She quipped, pouring a pint for Vash without him even asking, "Did have an interesting fella come in today, though." Smiling, Vash accepted the drink from her, already pulling out a couple of bills from his pocket to place on the counter in front of her. He lifted the glass to his lips, humming inquisitively to her previous statement. "Yeah," She continued, giving him an unimpressed up and down, "Said he was looking for you." Ah. Maybe he would have to leave a bit earlier than expected, if the Military Police were already this hot on his tail he was bound to be cornered in his rented room. That would get messy, and he wouldn't want poor Nadina to fork up a bunch of nonexistent money for property damages he was inadvertently the cause of. "Did... They say why they were looking for me?" He dared question, giving her a sheepish smile.  "No, just mentioned you by name, described you. Didn't even introduce himself, but I'm sure you could spot him in a crowd," She mused, shining up some spare glasses behind the counter, "Had this massive cross he was carrying around. Must've thought himself a priest or something. Wouldn't be able to tell by lookin' at him though, sketchy lookin' bastard." Suddenly, his smile was gone. Vash swallowed, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at Nadina. She caught this, her hands pausing their ministrations as they exchanged stares.  Vash broke the silence first, his voice breathy and barely above a whisper. "Did he have anyone with him?" Nadina didn't answer, not at first, obviously too caught up in his immediate reaction. After he cleared his throat, taking another long sip of his beer, she pursed her lips and quirked a brow. "No, he didn't have anyone with him," She crossed her arms, leaning against the back counter, "You know him then?" With a nod, he threw back the rest of his beer, placing it back on the counter with a thunk. He decidedly left out all and every detail of who that stranger was or how he knew him, mind reeling as to what he was doing around here looking for Vash. His head spun, and it definitely wasn't from the less than seven percent beer Nadina had so graciously poured for him. "Thanks for the drink Nadina, think I'm gonna hit the sack early though." He didn't give her a chance to interject, taking out an extra bill from his pocket and slapping it down on the counter. A tip, but also hopefully buying her silence. She nodded, taking the pile of bills and pocketing them in her half apron as Vash gave another friendly wave, crossing the pub floor and heading up the old metal staircase.  Fuck. Wolfwood was here, and he was looking for him, but most importantly, he didn't have you. Did he leave you behind? Were you hurt? Did he lose you? It had been at least eight months, a lot can happen in that amount of time. Maybe the two of you split up, and he was worrying his head about nothing at all. Still, he couldn't shake the bad feeling he had. Part of him wanted to find Wolfwood, ask what happened, if you were safe, but the other part of him didn't know if he wanted that answer. Seeing him would only serve as a reminder of what he had to let go anyways.  Unlocking his room, bumping his metal arm into the heavy material to force it open– perks of renting one of the cheapest rooms in town– Vash entered the small space, leaving it opened a crack. He wasn't going to be staying long, and he didn't have much to gather up. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could avoid the police and secure a ticket for the last bus out of here. It wasn't too late, the sun now just peaking over the dunes in the distance.  Vash shoved his sleepwear in his bag, yanking the cords shut and swinging it over his shoulder. He'd cut his losses on paying for the room tonight, and besides, if things went sideways he could always sneak his way back in without the stress of trespassing.  He had managed to sneak past the bar without Nadina noticing him, or maybe she did and just decided not to say anything. She was a perceptive woman, nothing slipped past her, so maybe Vash was foolish for thinking he could. He pushed his way through the doors, setting a brisk pace that didn't look too suspicious as to garner unwanted attention, adjusting the straps of the bag on his shoulder as he stepped through the weighted double doors of the shoddy bus station. The clerk was in the middle of cashing out as Vash ran up to the till, putting down a little more money than necessary just to secure his ticket in case the gentleman was in a poor mood.  Being eyed up and down never got easier. It was always fifty fifty on whether he had to run if they recognized him, or if they just thought he was some weirdo. "A ticket– please! A ticket please. Are there any seats on the last bus?" He was sure the desperation was even more suspicious, but he couldn't care. Not right now, at least. "It doesn't matter where it's going." The man grunted in response, taking the money– all the money– that had been placed on the counter in front of him. He scribbled something down on his receipt paper, tearing it off and clipping it to the bus ticket he then handed over. Vash smiled gratefully, brows upturned, before turning on his heel and speed walking out the door. People were lined up in front of the doors, already boarding. At least he wasn't going to waste any time. He sucked in a deep breath, stepping forward when the line moved up, his eyes scanning the crowds in the streets to make sure he wasn't picked out. And then he saw an apparition. And apparition, or an angel. Off to the side, two or three buildings down, back facing him but he could recognize it anywhere. He could point it out with no doubts, the presence you radiated was something he still constantly saw in his dreams. He had spent so many nights laying next to you, how could he forget about all of that in a measly eight-or-so months? His breath was caught in his throat, lungs feeling tight and his eyes stung. Suddenly everything hurt, his heart, his eyes, his muscles, he couldn't move. You were talking to an older man, his brows furrowed as he looked up and around. He pointed his finger towards Vash, and everything moved so slow. You turned, eyes wide, and he could see the tears welling up from where he was standing. You were beautiful, so so beautiful, hair a bit longer than he had remembered, new clothes he hadn't ever seen before, but... You were the same. The same lips he had traced with his thumb, the same cheeks he had squished in his hands, the same eyes he could stare into for hours, just watching every sparkle and light flare every time you talked about nothing in particular. Then your mouth moved. He couldn't hear it, but he could see it plain as day. Vash? He watched you, watched as you took one slow step forward, then another, then another, steps slowly increasing in pace until you were running full sprint towards him. He was now stood in front of the open doors of the bus, ticket gripped so tightly in his still–flesh hand that it was barely legible. He didn't get a chance, didn't get a chance to step onto the bus, didn't get a chance to say anything to you, didn't get a chance to pull away or run like he thought he wanted to. Not before you were hurling yourself into him, arms wrapped so tightly around him he thought you were trying to crush every bone in his body. The impact made him huff through parted lips, cerulean eyes wide and glossy behind tinted glasses. You said something, something he couldn't hear with how hard you had shoved your face into the fabric of his jacket. The bus driver called out, catching his attention. He said something along the lines of are you getting on, and Vash didn't even register the fact he was shaking his head no. All he registered were the bus doors closing, and his shaky hands coming around and resting on your back. "You're so stupid!" You shouted, sobbing into his shirt. Your shoulders shook, your body trembled, and he could feel the wet of your tears seeping through the fabric. "You're so stupid and I'll never forgive you!" There were so many things he wanted to say in response.  I missed you so much. Every day without you felt too long. You're my everything. None of it came out, he tried. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic, choked out cry of your name. You looked up at him, and he watched as his own tears cascading down his face landed on your cheeks. His fingers fisted the back of your shirt, his arms starting to quiver, his glasses fogging up. Your hands reached up, pushing his glasses up into his hair, then sliding back down to rest on his cheeks. He leaned down, pressing his forehead up against yours as you whispered, "I never stopped looking for you." Vash kissed you, now for the second time, but instead of grief and distress and sorrow, there was relief. Comfort. Solace. He kissed you, and this time you kissed him back. You pushed your soft, beautiful lips up into his, finally letting go of all the heartache you had evidently been carrying with you for the eight months since he had left you. He pulled back, only for a second to look into your eyes, before he kissed you again, and again, and again. He kissed you breathless, his hands coming up to cup your face, mimicking how you were holding him, only pulling back far enough so he could see you. You still shared your breaths, shared the heat radiating off of each others' faces, shared wet tear stained cheeks. You were even more breathtaking than he remembered, the way your wet eyes shone in the setting sun, how your lashes clumped together, your sentimental smile enough to make him swoon.  "You two are making a scene," Vash heard from behind him, lips parting as he snapped away from you. Wolfwood stood with a stern look, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he stared at Vash over his glasses, "July police are in town right? Maybe not a good idea." To say he was confused would be an understatement, eyes flickering over to you when you muttered a meek apology, an embarrassed smile on your lips and red ears. Vash opened his mouth to speak, apologize, his heart threatening to break all over again until Wolfwood shrugged, adjusting the cross slung over his shoulder and rolling his eyes. "Just save it for later. Good to see you Spikey," He nodded, walking towards the tavern Vash was staying at, "You got a room, right? Let's go, I could use a drink. Walked through the entire town all damn day." Vash furrowed his brows, mouth opening to speak, before he felt you grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers between his. He looked down at you, expression somewhere between confusion and distress, but you smiled and shook your head, giving him a small tug as you pulled him along behind Wolfwood. "I'll explain. It's okay." He complied, following wordlessly until the three of you had entered through the tavern doors. Nadina looked in his direction, her eyes widening slightly before smiling. "Welcome back," She greeted, holding up three fingers inquisitively. The three of you nodded in unison. "Comin' up." The three of you sat, mostly in silence until Nadina came over with the drinks. Vash didn't miss the way she eyed up Wolfwood, and then yourself, especially with how tight you were holding Vash's still flesh hand. Once she had gone back to the bar, starting casual conversation with other patrons, did you begin talking.  "I don't want you to feel like I'm deceiving you," You began, eyes everywhere but on him, "I'm... We're still a thing." You gestured between yourself and Wolfwood with a finger, earning a curt nod from the priest as he slugged back his drink. He felt his heart ache again, something he hadn't felt in a while. He smiled, disingenuous and sad. He should have known better, Nadina had told him it was Wolfwood looking for him after all. The second he saw you, he should have known Wolfwood would have been in tow. He should have gotten on that bus, he shouldn't have froze the second he saw you. "But," You continued, "The night everything... The night you left, I told Nick about what happened. I told him you kissed me, I told him you left, and..." Your tiny voice tapered off, and he could see you fighting back tears. He wanted to reach up, wanted to cup your cheek and brush the cool metal of his lost-technology hand under your eye to catch the wet before it trailed down your cheek. He clenched his fist, forcing back the urge, glancing over at Wolfwood who really only seemed to be half interested in the conversation. You sighed, calling his attention back to you. "I told him that I care about you Vash. So much, and... He was okay with that." Vash furrowed his brows, lips parted in visible confusion. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat a bit. "I failed to realize that I had feelings for you too, but I felt bad already being committed to... this," Once again gesturing between Wolfwood and yourself, "We talked about it. Talked about having you join us, or at least try things out and see how they go." You held your palm out flat, pointing towards Wolfwood as he slowly nodded. "So– you– you aren't mad at me then?" Vash asked towards Wolfwood. The tanned man scoffed, leaning forwards on the table as he stared at Vash. "You aren't seeming to get it, so I'll spell it out for you Blondie," Wolfwood tapped his index finger on the table, "Us. All three of us. Relationship, or whatever the fuck you wanna consider it." It took a moment for Vash to register what you both were saying, brows furrowing again as he glanced back at you, then Wolfwood again, earning a nonchalant shrug as he grabbed at the glass sitting in front of you, tipping it back and drinking half the contents. You didn't seem to notice, or you did and simply didn't care, your thumb rubbing busy circles into the back of his partially gloved hand.  "So," Vash cleared his throat, scooting a bit closer to you in his seat, "You... Both of you... want...?" "You're both easy on the eyes, 'n I don't mind sharing," Wolfwood cut in unabashedly, both yours and Vash's cheeks heating in surprise at his boldness. "Both my type too, lucky me." He sparked up a cigarette, hanging his head over the back of his chair as he blew smoke up and away from the conversation being had. Vash was quiet, taking in all the information and emotion, the relief and the anxiety, as he looked back and forth between you and Wolfwood.  "It's okay if that's not something you want, Vash," You smiled, understanding and sweet, "I can reimburse you for the bus ticket, and you can leave first thing–" "No!" He took his hand from your grasp, holding them both up to stop you from speaking. "No, I– of course, of course I want this but, I mean... Are you two sure?" Wolfwood and you chuckled in unison, your hand coming down to settle on his bouncing knee. He remembered when you used to do that, when you would be in a pub or a diner and a bounty hunter would walk in, how you would place your hand over his restless knee or hold his arm, and suddenly any anxiety he had about the situation dissipated into thin air. He smiled, laughing a small bittersweet laugh, and finally picking up his drink. Vash would let himself be selfish, he would let himself have you, have Wolfwood, even if something could go horribly wrong tomorrow, or the next day, he would enjoy you now.  "Okay. Yeah, okay!" His agreeance called for a celebration, your hand going to reach for your now empty glass of beer, slapping Wolfwoods arm in faux outrage. You laughed, and Wolfwood waved your hand away, insisting that he would buy you another one. You argued, bickering with him in good fun about how you have no money, I'm the one paying, and Vash laughed. A hearty, genuine, full laugh that used his entire diaphragm. It turned heads, and the smile that reached his eyes made you melt. The argument in front of him dissipated, your quick hands grabbing the empty on the glasses and heading over to the bar. Vash watched you leave, the smile never leaving his eyes as his heart swelled inside his chest. It almost felt like too much, almost felt overwhelming, seeing you so easily chatter with Nadina as she prepared more drinks for the three of you. He turned his head, giving Wolfwood such a soft expression he swore he could see his sun–kissed neck and ears go red. The night carried on, more drinks and more laughs and more playful bickering, the occasional hand on your knee, or his thigh, or feeling Wolfwood bump his leg with his own. The three of you had managed to stay up until closing, getting ushered upstairs by Nadina to the room Vash had rented. All three of you had more than enough to drink, considering at some point every single person had tripped going up. Vash shoulder checked his door after inserting the key, chucking his bag down beside the door. The bed was small, probably much too small for three people comfortably since it could barely be considered a full. A heavy thunk gathered his attention long enough to see Wolfwood resting The Punisher up against the wall in front of the foot of the bed. You giggled, and he smiled, watching you lay back onto the bed. Vash closed the door, shucking his coat, glasses, and holster off and tossing them over the desk in the corner, before flopping down on his stomach next to you. His metal arm laid over your torso, mechanical thumb running gentle circles into your sides. It was sweet, it was how things should have gone before, maybe this is just setting things right– "Move over," Wolfwood complained, and when Vash looked up he could see the tanned man throwing his pants into a crumpled pile in the corner with the rest of his clothes. Really, Vash hadn't even noticed him strip, only to be left in his boxer briefs. His cheeks flushed red, quickly averting his eyes as he readjusted himself and you on the bed so you were now laying properly. Vash had wedged himself back against the wall, your back pressed to his front, as Wolfwood climbed in to join. "Tight fuckin' fit," Wolfwood grunted, and Vash would have been embarrassed at his phrasing if you hadn't laughed at him and playfully swatted his chest. Considering the limited space, the three of you had to shuffle around for a bit to get comfortable, one of you earning an elbow to somewhere sensitive, or a knee to the thigh, but finally everything settled into a comfortable position. Wolfwood laid on his back, arm outstretched for both you and Vash to rest your heads on, your back to his side, face to face with Vash. It didn't take long for Wolfwood to doze off, his light-sleep snoring filling the otherwise empty room. Vash tried to sleep, really he did, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He couldn't stop staring at the curve of your jaw, the halo of hair on the arm and pillow below you, and your beautiful dazzling eyes. This time, he didn't have to shy away when you met his gaze. This time, he could stare and stare until he went blind. And, as enamored with you as he was, he could see that same infatuation as you stared back.  "Hey," You whispered, closing your eyes as his metallic hand brushed a strand of hair behind your ears. "Hey." Those were the only words you exchanged, afraid you might wake up your sleeping companion. That didn't stop you grinning from ear to ear, though, and it didn't stop him from shuffling impossibly closer, or his cold mechanical hand running up and down your side, slowly skating up. He traced a trail with his fingertips, going from your side, to your back, up your arm, brushing over your collarbone, and up your neck. It was feather light, scared that if he pressed any harder you would disappear into a cloud of smoke. His fingers stopped at your chin, index finger gently hooked underneath, while his thumb traced the outline of your lips. Vash sucked in a deep breath, half lidded cyan eyes staying locked on the slight part of your mouth as you kissed the pad of his metal thumb. He exhaled in a puff, watching the hairs to the side of your face shift in place. "This doesn't feel real," He admitted in a whisper, barely audible had you not been mere inches away from him, "I feel like I don't deserve this." Frowning, you pressed another kiss to his hand, and he vaguely registered the warmth of your palm on the side of his neck. It was as gentle as a mayfly's wing, and had he not seen your arm move, he would have missed it. The same hand reached out, grasping his wrist and pulling it away from your face. Vash swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, his still tipsy mind hazy as you leaned in and placed your petal soft lips on the corner of his mouth. It wasn't enough, he could never get enough, he thought as he turned his head, greedily taking you in and kissing you so gently. His eyes fell closed, fingers threading between yours. Shifting slightly, his other hand came up from beneath him, cupping the back of your neck. It was slow, languid, gentle, like you both had all the time in the world to simply exist with each other. Vash wanted to make up for lost time, apologize for leaving you in that motel room, tell you how much he missed you, but instead he spoke with his actions. He kissed you tenderly, lovingly, over and over again, his hands holding you so close you might think it was his last night alive. "I never stopped thinking about you," He whispered between kisses, turning you over on your back. He propped himself up, torso hovering over you as he kissed your cheek, nose, jaw, the shell of your ear. The sigh you breathed had him closing his eyes, scrunching his brow and committing it to memory.  Untangling his fingers from yours, his metal hand reached down, firmly grasping your hip as his lips moved down. He wanted to do this for so long, shower you in love and affection, to be showered in love and affection back. He wanted to give and take and exist in a world that was entirely you. When his lips came back up, there was more intensity behind his kisses, welcoming the part of your mouth with his own. Your mouth was warm, welcoming, and he could taste the lingering booze left behind when he pressed his tongue into your own. There was a whine, and it took him longer than it should have to realize it came from him, pulling back quickly when he felt a shift in the bed beside the two of you. A thick strand of saliva kept your mouths connected as he glanced over, seeing Wolfwood tugging his arm back and tucking it behind his head. Vash stilled, waited, and when he heard the telltale snores again, he was back on your lips in an instant. "Vash," You breathed into him, your hands grabbing the back of his shirt and fisting the material in your palms, "It's okay, I'm not going anywhere."  You sounded amused, and his fingers gripped you just a little bit tighter as he kissed you just a little bit harder. "I know." But he didn't know. He didn't know when would be the last moments he spent with you, and he didn't want you to slip between his fingers again. He didn't want to dance around his feelings to keep you safe when neither of your futures were guaranteed tomorrow. So, instead of pulling back when you patted and rubbed his back, he slipped between your legs, his hands grabbing at your thighs and pulling you into him, adjusting your position. He hunched over you, forearms resting beside your head as he took more and more, stealing the breath from your lungs, soaking in your tiny whines and insincere protests. There was a fire in the pit of his stomach, and everything about you, everything you did, stoked the flame, made it burn brighter, hotter. Vash didn't know where this boldness came from, brushing your bangs back from your face and kissing you once more, the heat of his hand searing your skin as he dipped his fingers just below the band of your shorts, hiking your leg up around his waist. Immediately met with eager compliance, Vash smiled against you and rubbed an affectionate stroke on your outer thigh. His hand moved up, further and further until his fingers were tangled in the strands of your hair. He lowered himself, just a bit, but it was enough to have his pelvis rub up into you. The moan you let out was less quiet, but he couldn't care less when you were pulling him so much closer, arching your hips to press up into him. He shuddered, a small hiss making it past his teeth as you rubbed up into him. He was already getting so worked up and he didn't even know if you would be okay with something so different, something that could send you running. "I want you," He sighed into your temple, cheeks flushing, "Just... Promise you'll try to keep an open mind?" He was suddenly bashful, watching your brow quirk at his request. "Wha– why?"  "It's– my, ahem... It's a little different than, uhm–" Vash paused, a shiver wracking up his spine when you reached down and palmed the front of his pants. You kissed him, obviously not swayed by his lack of human anatomy– he didn't know why he expected anything less from the person that would patch him up and nurse his hard to reach wounds. He relaxed into your touch, cock pulsing in its confines as you flattened your palm and stroked up and down the front of his pants, arms shaking as he pulled back from you with a sheepish smile. "Sensitive," He explained, fingers pushing up the hem of your shirt until you lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the fabric off and toss it behind him and onto the floor. His eyes widened, before softening, hands clutching at your sides and moving up and down soothingly. "Beautiful." Both hands, metal and flesh, gripped your ribcage, thumbing over the perk of your nipples. You reaction was immediate, back arching, one hand flying to cover your mouth. Vash exhaled, breathing ragged as he repeated the action, this time watching your face contort, trying your best to keep quiet and not wake Wolfwood next to you. He pinched your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, gently rolling them in his grasp. Your airy moans urged his own whine, his lips replacing one of his hands, working you just a little faster. Hands moved, clothing was discarded, and by the time Vash had gotten his senses about him, you were in nothing but your underwear, urging him to tug his shirt over his head and throw it into the dark with the rest of your clothes. Vash knows he was supposed to savor this, commit it to memory, but your wandering hand stroking his cheeks, pulling his hair, pawing at the front of his pants, had all of his senses kicked into overdrive. You were beautiful, more so than he had ever imagined, and he didn't want to wait another second to have you. The warm pad of his thumb came up, pressing into your bottom lip, urging you to open up for him. He kissed you, more tongue than lips, while his metal hand caressed the innermost part of your thighs, the tips of his fingers teasing up against your clothed clit. When you moaned into his mouth, he moaned with you, the sound less quiet than desired and entirely debauched. Handling you with utmost care, his hand peeled your underwear to the side. Vash was surprised when you didn't flinch at the cold– but then again he was probably warmed by your body heat– as he dipped his fingers into just slightly, coming back up to circle your clit. Sounds he didn't think he would ever get to hear cascaded from your lips, and he greedily lapped them up like his last meal. Occasionally returning your noises with a choked out moan or breathy whine, his fingers trailed back down, one finger slowly dipping into your heat. When you gasped into him, he curled his finger up slowly, pulling back before pushing in a second. You were soaked, and your combined groan echoed off the walls of your small shared room. "Having all the fun without me," Broke the silence, hands on Vash's hips from behind making him startle out a high pitched eep! "Got room for another?" In all honesty, Vash hadn't even noticed Wolfwood move, and he wondered if it's because he was so wrapped up in you, or if Wolfwood was really that quiet. His cheeks flushed a deeper red, if that was even possible, when he glanced down, watching Wolfwood press his tented boxers up and into his ass. Cerulean eyes shot back up, like a deer in the headlights as Wolfwood ran a hand up his bare spine slowly. Vash turned to glance at you, only to see you biting your lip to suppress a shy grin, then back at Wolfwood. He nodded, barely finished the action of agreeing before he was being grabbed by the back of the neck and tugged up. Back to his chest, Wolfwood moved his hand around his neck to cup his jaw, pulling him into a mind-numbing kiss. His lips were rougher, chapped, and he could taste the leftover nicotine lingering on his breath when his mouth was pried open by his tongue. Vash moaned, eyes rolling back into his skull when Wolfwood reached around with his other hand, cupping the front of his pants and giving a gentle squeeze. Back arching, Vash bucked into his hand, pulling back to fix Wolfwood with a half lidded, embarrassed expression.  "It's... it's different," Vash explained again, earning a snicker in response. "You got a hole?" His expression fell, eyes wide in shock, nodding slowly. "We're all good then." He should've been embarrassed, really. Should've been embarrassed that Wolfwood speaking to him so directly made his cock twitch, or embarrassed by the fact when he glanced over you were touching yourself below him, but he couldn't. He locked eyes with you, his breath catching in his throat as you pushed yourself up on your forearms. You sat up on your knees, hands holding his waist as you kissed him again. Being pulled back and forth made his head spin, and he didn't know who was unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his hips, but every touch and sensation and movement had him absolutely delirious. A hand was on his face again, Wolfwood squishing his cheeks to open his mouth and pull him back for another debauched, sloppy kiss. He didn't have time to be bashful about his state of undress, but the way you gasped when his pants and boxers had been pulled to his knees had his body tensing. Wolfwood seemed intrigued, parting only far enough to glance down. Vash slapped his hands over his face, not daring to peek through the cracks of his fingers. "Vash," You breathed, a yelp leaving his lips when he felt your smaller hand grasp him, "You're so gorgeous." Finally, Vash had gathered the courage to look at you from behind his hands, seeing the intrigued, bewildered expression on your face. You were tracing the neon glyphs running up his length, which would look like a normal human appendage had it not emerged from opened, flourishing petals. He was twitching with every slight touch, panting behind his hands as your fingers moved down, hips jumping and cock bouncing with even the slightest graze. "C–Careful, sensitive." Slick ooze coated his entire length, your hand glistening after releasing him from your grasp. Vash tossed a glance over his shoulder, seeing Wolfwood's furrowed brows and focused expression. Oh God, he thought this was weird didn't he? His worries dissipated the second Wolfwood reached around, using two fingers to gather up the slick coating him. He smirked, using his thumb to smear it around on his fingers before pulling his hand back. Vash would have been confused if he didn't feel a slimy finger circling his asshole, making him gasp and jump. "Tell us if it's too much," You soothed, laying back on the bed and coaxing Vash to come with you. He complied, of course he did, forearms holding himself above you as you whispered sweet words, followed by a quick, "Touch me again." Skin–warmed metal prodded at your entrance again, moving up, then down, before two fingers slowly entered you. In unison, Wolfwood pressed a finger into Vash, pulling a surprised mewl from his throat. Still, he melted into the touch, fingers pausing only briefly as he caught his bearings, before curling his prosthetic digits and stroking inside of your dripping cunt. The sounds you made were heavenly, his legs shaking as Wolfwood slowly worked him open. A second finger was added, his back arching and pressing down into your chest as he choked out a cry. "You're so pretty," You murmered through the haze, a grunt coming from Wolfwood behind him, "Please, Vash... I want you." Three words he never thought he would hear, three words that almost had him cumming on the spot paired with the quick work Wolfwood was making of him. He nodded frantically, glancing over his shoulder at Wolfwood, seeing his boxers now gone, cock impossibly hard and heavy under its own weight. Vash audibly choked, eyes wide when he made eye contact. "B– aha, big," Vash stuttered intelligently, earning a smirk in return. "How–" "The man upstairs blessed me in that way. Dont worry your pretty little head about it." Wolfwood pulled back, shucking down Vash's pants the rest of the way and pulling them off, allowing him to look back at you and crowd you in his space. Metal fingers gripped himself by the base, swiping one, two, three stripes up the line of your pussy, making his body jolt every time. The head caught on your entrance, his arms shaking as he slowly, oh so slowly, pushed himself into your welcoming heat. The slide was easy between your combined slick, his slow inch-by-inch entrance more for him than you to adjust. Once he bottomed out, you breathed a sigh, and he whimpered into your neck. Vash wasn't given much, if any time to adjust, before Wolfwood was pressing his cockhead against his hole, only managing to get two or three weak thrusts into your clenching heat before he was being split open. He was loud, the moan ripped from his throat when Wolfwood pushed himself in, filling him so good and so much. His cock twitched, jumped, and throbbed inside your soaked cunt, earning a string of pleas and mewls from your lips. He couldn't think straight, couldn't see straight, and he didn't even register the fact he had started moving back and forth in your heat in time with Wolfwood's thrusts until a particularly spongy spot inside him had been prodded by the other man's cockhead. "Ah, s–so much!" Crying out in pure bliss, Vash quickened his speed, the slap of Wolfwoods hips against his ass barely audible over his moans and mewls and whines. It was almost too much, almost enough to push him over the cliff of overstimulation, just barely toeing the line. Tears pooled in his eyes, knocking his forehead against yours as he panted into your open mouth. "I love you, I love you I love you I–" Vash sputtered, only a fraction of his brain working well enough to know he was going to cum fast and hard if he didn't try to anchor himself. "'m gonna cum, please, please cum with me." He didn't know who exactly he was talking to, you, Wolfwood, or both, but he was desperate. Bringing down the pad of his thumb, he spun quick hard circles around your clit, revelling in your gasps and whines. His hips stuttered when Wolfwood slammed into him with a particularly hard thrust, knocking him forward into you deeper, harder. He couldn't stop himself even if he tried, his voice caught in his throat as he choked, wailed, tears falling from his eyes and drool slipping from the corner of his mouth. Moan after syrupy thick moan, he emptied himself into your welcoming heat. The shockwaves of Wolfwood pounding into him mercilessly pushing you over the edge with his restless fingers. He could never forget your please, please, please now that he was the cause of your pleasure, pumping you full of viscous fluids and bringing you to your own finish. In sync, Wolfwood growled behind him, grabbing a fistful of his hair from behind and tugging him so his back arched, feeling a warm wetness spill into him. In silence, the three of you quivered, bodies shaking from the intensity as you stilled. The hand in his hair loosened, his body falling slack on top of you, both of you grunting at the impact. His cheek was pressed against your chest, smearing the drool running down his chin against your smooth skin. "Fuck," Wolfwood broke the silence, pulling out and away from Vash, "That was..." "So good," Vash slurred, mind broken as he continued to quake on top of you. Both you and Wolfwood laughed, turning him on his side to the center of the bed. He groaned, eyes glancing down between your legs to see the sheer amount of liquids that had left a sizeable puddle on the sheets. He couldn't find it in himself to be shy about it, simply smiling at you and murmuring an insincere, "Sorry." Your hand came up, gently smacking his chest in jest as you curled up as close as you could, partially to avoid the quickly cooling liquid and partially to bask in the afterglow with him. Wolfwood sighed, content as he laid down on the other side of Vash, throwing his arm over both of your waists. "No cleanup?" You mumbled into Vash's chest, earning a scoff from Wolfwood in return. "You wanna get up?" "Nooo," You whined. "Then it can wait 'til mornin'." Vash exhaled a weak laugh, his heart feeling so full, so warm, turning his head back to look at Wolfwood and getting a surprisingly tender kiss in return. Turning his head back to you, his warm fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he placed a slow, gentle kiss on your swollen lips. Just as he began to doze off, Wolfwood steadily snoring once again, he heard your exhausted, crackled voice in the back of his mind. “I love both of you. So, so much.” And in that moment, Vash the Stampede knew he had so much more to look forward to in his following days.

[badasgirlfriend]

hey, love your fics! can you write something about bada lee x fem idol readers relationship pls

Happy | Bada Lee Imagine

pairings: bada lee x idol!reader

a/n: i kinda hate this but i tried my best hope u like it (i swear this looked better in my head)

Being an idol is fcking hard, Y/N will tell you that. It's toxic, it's draining, and she could sit here all day and tell you about every shitty part of it. She. But she chose this, she knew exactly what she was signing up for.

"This is hilarious," Y/N stated, barely able to control her laughter as she read out the various comments "I'm so disappointed with her, she was such a great idol, but now she's a disgrace!"

The room was illuminated by candlelight as Y/N laid in bed with Bada. The warm glow from the candles cast long shadows on the walls and ceiling, adding an air of intimacy. She could hear the sound of the rain outside, and she felt content and safe as she leaned against Bada's warm body. After finishing her concert two hours ago, Y/N was scrolling through the comments left by everyone. It was obvious that her decision to raise a lesbian flag had caused quite a stir, and the amount of controversy it had generated far exceeded her expectations.

She continued reading the comments, letting out a laugh at one she found particularly amusing. "This one's my favorite: 'I can't believe she supports gay people, she'll never get my money, that's for sure.' Oh no, Bada, my bank account will be empty"

Y/N's phone was suddenly taken from her, prompting her to turn and face Bada. Just as she did so, her girlfriend brought her closer in a passionate kiss. In response, Y/N naturally wrapped her arms around Bada, pressing their bodies together.

The kiss between began with a sense of gentleness and sweetness. In each moment of their connection, Y/N felt her heart fluttering with the same intensity that she had experienced in their first kiss. It was as though the world around them came to a standstill and the rush of emotions overwhelmed her. No matter how many times they kissed, Y/N still savored the moment like it was brand new.

"I told you to stop reading the comments." Bada's words were somewhat overshadowed by the passionate kiss that they shared as she voiced her concerns for her girlfriend. Even though she could recognize the humor in the comments, she also felt the worry and stress that the negative feedback was causing Y/N. She was well aware of the struggles that Y/N endured for her career, and the threats to boycott Hybe until they fired ber didn't sit well with Bada.

"I find them funny though" Y/N replied, responding to Bada's earlier comment. In her relaxed state, she playfully pecked her lover's lips

"But-"

"Bada, I promise you I'm ok. I don't care what they're saying. I love you, and just being near you is enough. I knew the consequences of my actions, and still, I did it without any regret."

Yn was now settled in Bada's lap, playing with the hem of her girlfriend's tshirt "Even if my company fires me, which I doubt because I pay their bills, I wouldn't care. I'd find a new company. What I matters to me is us being happy"

The words from her girlfriend sent chills down Bada's spine. The revelation that Y/N would sacrifice her dreams and ambitions for their relationship was sending her over the moon. In that moment, her thoughts were transported back four years to the start of their relationship. They were a young couple back then, still navigating the world of fame and uncertainty that came with it. Despite all their fears, they had found a connection and a place within each other that made them feel safe and secure. With Y/N's words reminding her, Bada reflected on how much they'd grown together and how far they'd come. It filled her with a sense of pride in their relationship and the trust they'd developed along the way.

Bada had grown accustomed to the rumors around her girlfriend and the various male idols she was constantly linked to, but she never cared. For her, she knew that Y/n loved her and that was enough. Her fans saw Bada nothing more than her friend and choreographer. Bada had become YN's personal choreographer, following her wherever she went. It was true that Bada created all the dances for her, even stepping in to be a backup dancer at times. They even mirrored each other as they wore matching outfits on stage and shared intimate moments during their vlives. But everyone else seemed oblivious to their romantic connection, thinking they were just close friends.

This year, however, something new happened. YN's fans were shipping both of them and the couple found it sweet and endearing It was like a whole new world had opened up for them - where they could be themselves and express their love without fear of judgment or criticism. And that was all they could ask for.

"Earth to Bada" The sound of her girlfriend's laughter was enough to break through Bada's thoughts, bringing her gaze towards her once again. It was hard to ignore the beauty and love of Y/N, as her kind essence and everything she did brought happiness to Bada. As she lifted her hand to tuck a piece ofyn's hair behind her ear, Bada's focus remained on her face as she spoke. "I love you so much,"

Y/N was quick to return her girlfriend's statement with an exclamation of her own. "I love you more, baby," she expressed, her face buried in Bada's neck as she was overcome with shyness. She could feel her lover's laughter and was amused by it, her heartbeat accelerating at the sound of the woman she loved laughing at her.

"I have an idea" Yn was swift to action, grabbing her phone

"Uh oh that's not good," Bada chimed, but only one glare from Y/N was enough for her not to continue talking

Bada watched Y/n bring the phone closer, recording them kissing. "Hoes Mad" played softly in the background, as Y/N mouthed along to the lyrics, kissing Bada on the lips again and grinning at the camera. Bada chuckled at her silliness,

"Annnd posted!"

Bada's grin disappeared at Y/N's words, her expression shifting to one of shock as she realized what she had done. "What-? You actually posted it?" She was genuinely surprised by Y/N's bold move, her voice tinged with concern and disbelief. Before she could question her further, a notification popped up on her phone, with a familiar username. She tapped on the link and was met with something unexpected from the video Y/N shared online.

Bada groaned "no what did you do, you will get so much in trouble"

"Oh calm down, it's not a big problem," YN replied with a dismissive wave. She grabbed Bada's phone and turned it off then doing the same to her phone who wouldn't stop blowing from the notifications. Y/N then casually tossed them on the sofa near them

"Now, let's enjoy our night," YN said with a smug smirk. Her hand reached over and slowly traced the outline of Bada's shirt until she found her way inside.

Bada's lips curved into a sly grin, she was lucky indeed

[still-a-morosexual-help]

"Father of Demons"? Anyway my new theory is that Nightbringer is God. Why? Because it'll be really funny and it'd fuck Lucifer up

Is it a crack theory? Yes. Is Nightbringer probably Barbatos? Yeah. Does it make sense? Not really. Am I gonna drag canon into this to see if I can convince you? .........

ANYWAY;

He was the only one around so he created two factions of directly opposing power to fight each other for his entertainment. Like a giant chess game against himself

• Literally like a giant chess game. Which is why the angels all wear white and the demons wear black or darker colours and both are generally opposed to wearing each other's clothes

• Symbolism! Bringing it all back around! Because Diavolo beating angel! Lucifer, in a chess game, is what makes Lucifer listen to Diavolo and start considering his point of view - that the War needn't go on

• No one knows why the War started, only that it's been going on for as long as they can remember.... because there was no one else around to know!

• Lucifer says that God never tried to find a solution to the War and wonders why.......

• The angels and demons need to be as opposite to each other as possible, so that they don't realise there's no real difference between them. God stayed in the Celestial Realm and enforced extremely strict laws while the demons were left to their own devices with no "Father of Demons" to guide them, making them extremely free but also extremely chaotic. And this truly is the biggest difference between the angels and demons in OM! as the angels are not "holy" and the demons are not "evil"

• Why someone has taken great care to hide all evidence of Nightbringer, including ripping out pages in old books

• Why Nightbringer is apparently powerful enough to get MC to travel through time and space

• The opportunity to go back around to and address the fact that Lucifer's biggest fear is his father

• The fact that Nightbringer knows so much about everyone like he has constantly being watching even though he never interacted with the others before

• The fact that Nightbringer was able to stop Adam from entering the Celestial Realm

• The fact that Nightbringer knew what would happen in the future (MC helping Adam, MC going against Solomon)

• The fact that Nightbringer transported MC when things started settling down in their own universe - the realms may not have been on the best terms but by the end of S4 they were steadily heading there and MC had a valid reason to spend more time in the Devildom. God was okay with the Chess Game stopping because he still got a soap opera out of it but then things started settling down and everything was calm and he was bored again so he plucked MC out and put them into an alternate universe where things are somehow worse than they ever were in MC's original universe - and he then gets two new soaps out of it - 1.) MC trying to deal with this new BS while a war breaking out keeps getting teased 2.) The brothers in the original universe absolutely losing their shit and falling apart

Forget what you think Solmare will actually do (possibly make Barbatos Nightbringer) - was I convincing? Did you actually stop and think "hey, wait a minute...."

[posts made by a conspiracy theorist from the devildom]

[msaw]

realistically theres no way a sphere would have survived that explosion but this is fiction so i can do whatever i want baby!!!!!

this is the before and after of what a sphere looked like before the war and after the war. we all know how he was before <3 so i would like to talk about after. (massive canon divergence headcanon warning LOLZ)

basically he expected to die but then he woke up in his headquarters. idk maybe his building has radiation resistance or hes just built different or whatever. they have flying transport anything can happen in their world. so he wakes up on the floor of his office thinking hes dead but hes actually not. granted he can barely see anything because the light from the nuke nearly blinded him. it also left him with a scar

so he's like "shit" and refuses to leave his building until the radiation settled down, which he decided would be a couple months just for good measure. there was enough food in the break room and in storage to last him that long. he did have to share it with some other people who survived, though.

these 2 months consisted on him relearning the layout of the building + running into walls cause he was basically blind. he could really only see things up close. but he persisted and finally decided to leave the building. the whole city was a wreck. really the only thing he could do is just travel. travel and try to find a city that didnt get blown to smithereens. thankfully he knew the general direction he had to go to get to a place crowded with cities so he just picked that direction and went.

turns out they were suffering from the war too but they were much better off than a sphere's city. they took him in and tried to get him rehabilitated. time skip! the war lasted a few years and the time it took for them to rebuild the city was even longer. the messiah company was still going strong at its other locations, so the company was alive, but a sphere didnt want to go back until his eyesight was fixed. he got eye surgery and a pair of prescription glasses in the following year, and both helped tremendously, but his eyesight will still never be the same.

he eventually went back to his job (then resigned and went for something more relaxed and pertaining to his interests) and im thinking at a certain point he brought a square back into the third dimension again for whatever reason. maybe a square's taste for interdimensional living became too strong or whatever. then they live happily ever after AAWAWWWAWAWAW (jk still developing what happens after all this)

thats a sphere fixing a piece of his flying car (with a guest appearance by a square)

[wanderinginksplot-writes]

Refuge Chapter Eight

It's finally time for your first mission with Delta Squad.

Continued slow-burn Delta Squad x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,300

Warnings: Anxiety, feelings of alienation, social awkwardness, teasing, minor verbal bullying, brief physical bullying, and general references to weapons and warfare

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

You would never get used to traveling this way. 

You had watched as the ship left from the hangar bay, directed by a GAR tower as you slowly rose through masses of Coruscanti traffic. Fixer had asked you to step out of the cockpit during takeoff. Well, it had actually sounded far closer to an order, but you apparently made him nervous with the intense way you watched everything.

Still, you had found another transparisteel pane to watch from as the planet fell away beneath you. You were in the air. That had always been something for other people to experience, people on distant planets. Voubosians had nowhere to go and the concept of space flight was more theoretical than something that average people expected to experience someday. 

And if your palm rose to press against the inside of the windowpane as Fixer put the ship into hyperdrive, who could blame you? Not a single person. Especially since the rest of Delta Squad were all crowded into the cockpit. 

You were going to Isiring, a small planet in the Outer Rim and very close to Separatist space. The planet was considering joining the Republic, and that consideration had put them under occupation by the Separatist Army. The GAR had driven off most of the droid army, but the Isiring people were in desperate need of supplies. The Wolfpack had brought a shipment of supplies, but there had been more refugees than expected. 

Delta Squad had brought additional supplies, enough to last until another battalion could get through the Separatist remnants with a full resupply. Additionally, Delta would help build and reinforce the refugee camp that the 104th was building. 

And, somehow, you were considered capable enough to be part of Delta Squad’s mission. You had your own doubts about that, but you had agreed to take on this assignment and you were determined to see it through. 

That didn’t stop you from jolting when someone spoke behind you. 

“It’ll be a while before we get there, even using the hyperspace lanes along the way.”

When you had recovered - trying to play off your surprise as a temporary loss of balance, you turned to nod at Sev. “Thank you for letting me know. How long do you think the journey will take?”

Sev was frowning, though. "Did you just get scared?" 

"I thought everyone was still in the cockpit," you explained, chuckling at yourself. Sev didn't laugh at all. On Toporik, a harmless fright was considered humorous, good for a shared laugh among friends. Sev didn't seem even slightly amused and you conceded internally that it could be a cultural thing. 

"You didn't hear me?" 

"No," you admitted, feeling fully awkward by that point. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be listening for you.”

Sev shook his head and returned to the cockpit, leaving you waiting uncomfortably alone in the transport's small seating area.

And you stayed alone for far too long. You couldn't hear any conversation among Delta Squad in the cockpit, but there were closed comlink channels in their HUDs. In all likelihood, they were talking about you. 

It wasn’t necessarily bad. They could be discussing how to fit you into the mission without risking themselves or you due to your inexperience. Though you knew they had already considered that, and probably had been doing so since they were first assigned to assist on Isiring. In that case, the conversation might be bad. 

You decided to convince yourself that they were all crowded in the cockpit, surrounded by pure silence. 

When everyone other than Scorch filed out of the cockpit, you were staring out of the viewport and toying with the material of your body glove. The shine of the transparisteel’s interior meant that you could watch Delta’s faces as they came into the ship’s main cabin. 

Sev glanced at you for a moment before he continued on to the back of the ship. Boss didn’t even look at you. Fixer watched you stretch and release the fabric of the garment’s shoulder a few times before he shook his head. Surprisingly, he reached out to still your fingers with his own. For all that he hadn’t seemed very easy with touch, the movement seemed utterly natural for him. 

“Don’t you remember how hard we had to work to get that glove for you?” he asked. The question could have been stern or harsh, but his tone sounded softer, almost gentle. “Try not to tear it on your first mission out, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you echoed, releasing the fabric immediately. It snapped back into place with a sting that made you wince. You were still facing the window and thought your expressions were private, but when your gaze focused, you could see that Fixer was looking at the window as well. He was using the opposite vantage point to watch you in the reflection. When he saw that you had seen him, he offered a nod and pulled his hand away from yours. 

That touch - simple, but freely offered - sparked something in you. Suddenly, you realized how horribly, deeply lonely you were. Perhaps it was inevitable; this was the first time you’d had alone with your thoughts in some time. Without the stress of running for your life or the distraction of Jedi training, you could process it. 

Sitting still, staring out of the viewport at stars passing by too quickly to be anything other than streams of light, you were spiraling. You had no community, no place. Delta Squad had offered you a spot among them, but now that you were there, they seemed concerned about your presence. No, not concerned… inconvenienced. 

Had this all been a mistake? You were honor-bound to see things through, especially since this had been a choice, one you had made gladly. If you died, you couldn’t see that as a terrible tragedy, but what if one of the others ended up hurt or killed trying to protect you because you couldn’t protect yourself? 

“Hey.” 

You turned quickly at the greeting, desperately clinging to the interruption of your frantic thoughts. Sev was standing there with a box in his hands. 

When you didn’t say anything, he frowned. It seemed to be a common expression for him. Or maybe you just brought it out in him…

“You good?” Sev asked. “Your breathing has picked up.”

“Just… trying to meditate.”

It was an incredibly weak lie, one that hung in the air for an uncomfortably long time. Sev gave you a few seconds of incredulous silence to fess up, but you stayed quiet. 

“Yeah,” he said eventually, clearly still skeptical. He lifted the box slightly. “Brought you some food.” 

“You brought me dinner?” you asked, unreasonably touched by that. Your emotions were erratic - not a good sign before your first mission. 

Sev scowled. “I guess. You get some before Scorch gets his. We’ll be going lights-out in about an hour, so consider this your warning.” 

“Thank you,” you said, accepting the box from him. Then a thought struck you and you felt more than a little silly for not having considered it before. “Um… where am I sleeping? There are only four bunks and I don’t want to take anyone’s spot-” 

“Someone has to fly the ship,” Fixer pointed out. “We’ll rotate bunks - the new person takes the empty one. Everyone’s clean and in top health, so you don’t have to worry about hygiene.” 

“As long as Scorch remembers to wash the liquid tibanna off this time,” Sev muttered. 

“Hey!” Scorch objected from the cockpit. You jumped again. You hadn’t known he could hear the conversation outside. “That only happened once!” 

“Yeah, but I’m the one who ended up with gas burns on his-” Sev’s dark eyes slid toward you before he turned briskly away. “Anyway, I wouldn’t recommend sleeping in a bunk after Scorch has had it.” 

“At least my hair isn’t greasy!” Scorch called. 

That made you laugh despite yourself. Sev’s hair was shorn so close to his scalp that you didn’t know if you could grab one without the use of tweezers. The idea of grease being able to cling to his nearly bare head was so unlikely as to be truly entertaining. 

“Stow it, men,” Boss ordered, sitting across from you with his own box of rations. “Everyone other than Scorch needs to finish up and get some sleep.”

“I would love to, Boss, but dearest Oh-Seven hasn’t brought me my meal yet.”

Sev rolled his eyes toward the cockpit. “I don’t feel like helping you out today. Get your own food.”

Scorch said, “If you insist.” You could clearly hear the sound of a restraint being unbuckled, followed by a few footsteps. The ship gave an alarming dip, spilling some of your food and pulling an alarmed gasp from you. 

Boss was on his feet before the food had landed on the table. “Scorch, sit your shebs down before I figure out a way to keep them there permanently. Sev, get Six-Two’s food before he kills us all. Fixer, get a new ration pack for her.” 

“That’s not necessary-” you protested. 

Fixer was already speaking over you. “What should I do with this one?” 

“Give it to Scorch,” Boss ordered. “She can have the fresh one.” 

“Aw, Boss…” Scorch’s complaining tone was clear even from the cockpit. “You know flying makes me hungry.” 

You wanted to melt through the seat. The last thing you wanted to do was start off your first mission by getting one of your squadmates in trouble. “It’s fine, Sergeant, really. Only a little bit spilled.” 

“Okay,” Boss said with a nod. “Did you hear that, Scorch? Only a little bit spilled. Sounds like you’ll survive the rest of the flight without starving to death.”

As you continued to insist that everything was fine, Fixer whisked the ration pack away from you and delivered it to Scorch. You bit your lip, dread weighing heavy on your stomach. It spiked sharply when you heard a soft exclamation from Scorch. 

“Oya! You only spilled the greens, civvie. That’s the worst part. Think you did me a favor…”

Your murmured reply was unintelligible, even to you. 

The situation was uncomfortable. And it was made worse by knowing that everyone knew about it. Sev and Scorch had been there when you admitted that you may not know if you were manipulating them. Even if you didn’t mean to. 

And then you had told Boss about what had happened. He had seemed sympathetic, but he had probably mentioned it to Fixer, even if the other two hadn’t. That had to be the cause of the awkwardness among the group, you were certain of it. Conversations had been stilted and laughter was nonexistent in any of the men.

Sev slid a fresh ration pack in front of you, but you only managed a few bites before you pushed it away. “I think I’m going to get some sleep.”

“You’re not going to eat any more than that?” Sev asked, eyeing your barely-touched tray. 

“No, I just…” You trailed off, uncertain of what to say. Eventually, you decided to keep to simple sentences. “No, I’m done.” 

“You should probably get a little more down,” Fixer said skeptically. “You never know when you’re going to eat on a mission. Skipping meals before you get there means you’re going to be distracted, weak-”

“Go to bed,” Boss ordered. Dimly, you recognized that he had been watching you closely throughout the short conversation, his gaze searching. Whatever he found there seemed to make him take pity on you. He nodded at the other Deltas before he returned to cleaning and reassembling his blaster. “Get some sleep.”

You were too grateful to do anything more than nod back before you scurried toward the small bunk section at the back of the ship. If the conversation shifted after you had left, you didn’t hear it. You made a point of not hearing it. 

But, to your eternal frustration, sleep wouldn’t come.

One by one, Delta followed you to the bunks - with the obvious exception of Scorch. Each one seemed to settle easily into slumber, but it eluded you. 

Eventually, you opted to slip out of the bunk entirely. Instead of lying there helplessly, you wanted to sit in the main cabin of the ship and reread the field manual the GAR had scrounged up for you. 

It seemed like a safe bet - Scorch was flying the ship while the other three were asleep, but you had barely started reading before Boss appeared. 

His sudden and silent approach made you jump, pressing a hand to your chest in an effort to calm your racing heart. When you could breathe without feeling like you were going to vomit, you asked, "What are you doing?" 

"Funny," he said, leaning against the doorway between the bunks and the main cabin. "Pretty sure I'm supposed to ask that."

"I'm reading," you offered, lifting the datapad as if to prove it.

"What you're doing is disobeying an order," Boss countered. "I told you to get some rest."

You froze, staring at him with wide eyes. He had said that, of course, but you had assumed it wasn't a real order. He had also said that a single disobeyed order would result in him kicking you out of Delta Squad…

"Relax," he told you, pushing away from the doorway to settle in a nearby seat instead. "That was a test. For future reference, I only issue official orders in war zones. Everything else is just a… strongly worded suggestion."

You nodded, gaze dropping to your twisting fingers as you tried to calm your pulse. 

Boss gave you a few minutes to settle before he spoke again. “So, knowing that it isn’t an order… wanna tell me what’s going on?” 

“Can’t sleep,” you admitted with a slight shrug. “I think I just have too many questions.”

“Questions,” Boss repeated tonelessly. 

“Yes, but I feel like I should already know the answers, so I haven’t asked them.” You gave a mirthless laugh. “I don’t enjoy wasting your time, you know.” 

When you finally snuck a look at Boss’s face, he was frowning slightly. “Why should you know the answers to questions you haven’t asked? And think of it this way: I would rather answer your questions now and know that you have all the information you need than worry about you if things get bloody.”

“I thought blood was guaranteed?” 

“This is a relief mission,” he clarified. “We might see some action, so we need to be ready for it, but it’s not like we’re dropping into an active war zone. Not this mission, anyway. So what questions do you have?”

“Can you-?” You cleared your throat and started over, wanting to sound more like a specialist gathering information and less like a lost child. “Can you give me some idea of a timeline? For our arrival, at least?” 

“Sure,” Boss said, nodding. He didn’t seem irritated by the questions, which helped ease your nerves enough to actually listen to him. “We make sure everyone is awake and fully dressed at least two hours before arrival. An hour out, we do final weapons and equipment checks. By the time we hit atmosphere, everyone needs to be prepped for landing.” 

“Do we expect it to be a bad landing?” You hadn’t experienced too many landings - just the one, actually - but you had seen enough HoloNews footage to know that you didn’t want to experience a crash. 

A new voice made you jump again, and you turned to see Sev leaning against the doorway to the bunks. His voice was even gruffer with sleep, almost hard to understand, but you tried to listen anyway. “Landings can be rough, depending on how much fire we take. Fixer will get us through the worst of it. Even if we land hard, everyone needs to be clear within fifteen seconds.”

“And the time between breaching atmosphere and landing?” you asked, struggling to gather all of the vocabulary you had learned in the past few weeks. “Do we… wear parachutes or something? What’s the protocol?” 

“Parachutes?” Boss repeated. 

“Why would you jump out of a ship in a war zone?” Sev asked, nearly scowling by that point. 

You frowned a little yourself, but more out of confusion than irritation. “Well, you know… if it’s crash-landing or something-”

“Don’t jump out of the ship,” Boss advised. 

A groan drifted from the doorway behind Sev, followed by Fixer’s voice. “Who is jumping out of a ship?” 

“The civvie,” Sev tossed back, moving over slightly so Fixer could stand bleary-eyed in the doorway beside him. “The jetii must have taught her some strange tactics.”

“Shut it, Sev,” Boss ordered, tacking on a glare for good measure. His gaze evened out when he turned back to you. “You’re always gonna be safer inside the ship, even if it’s going down. There’s too much chance of taking a blaster bolt while you’re floating above an active battlefield.”

“Are we having a meeting?” Scorch called from the cockpit. 

“No,” Fixer told him. “Civvie’s just asking some questions. Wanted to know if we were going to wear chutes when we break atmosphere.” 

“Chutes?” Scorch echoed, bewildered. “Why would we jump out of ship in the middle of a combat zone?” 

“Okay, I’ve got it,” you hurried to say, getting to your feet. “Understood. Awake and dressed two hours out, checking weapons one hour out. Ready to go when we break atmosphere. When we land, get out of the ship within fifteen seconds. If we’re not dead from being shot down.” 

“We won’t be dead,” Fixer assured you. The confident tilt to his chin made you believe him. “I’ve landed bigger ships than this in worse areas.” 

“But everything else is right,” Boss confirmed. 

Sev shrugged. “Pretty much. Though if landing is quiet, you can miss the fifteen second mark by a few seconds without as much risk.”

“Seriously, I can come back there,” Scorch offered. 

“That’s okay; we’re done,” you told him. “Thank you all. I’m going to sleep now.” 

—

To your great relief, the landing part of the mission had been simple. 

You had been ready and armored far too early, but Scorch had been too tired to do much more than laugh. Fixer had guided the ship into a smooth landing on Isiring, and the Republic’s forces had secured the area around the relief camp. Boss had advised everyone to wear helmets anyway, and you gladly followed that advice. You were always a fan of overpreparedness, and you found yourself a little shy around the unknown troopers. 

The peace didn’t last long, though. Your first task was to operate the droid lifts, shuttling fully-loaded lifts to deposit their supply crates in the correct areas while dispatching the newly empty ones back to the ship for Delta Squad to restock. It was easy work, and you were grateful for the chance to decompress and brace yourself for anything else you might be assigned to do next. 

But what you hadn’t realized was that your position as the only one outside of the ship left you surrounded by unfamiliar troopers. 

One such trooper laughed far too loudly behind you, knuckles rapping sharply against the top of your helmet in a way that made the HUD give an irritated beep. “What is going on here? I think you could have used a little more time in that growth jar, eh, vod?”

None of that made any sense to you, so you stayed silent, shoulders hunching up toward your ears as you focused on the datapad you were using to direct the droids. 

“Hey, knock it off,” another voice said, and you relaxed slightly at the intervention. “Obviously, he hasn’t learned to talk yet!” 

Uproarious laughter, then you were jostled as someone knocked your arm. It was probably a playful gesture, you knew that. But the interaction had drawn attention, and being surrounded by strangers who were all tall and broad enough to make you feel trapped… Well, it wasn’t doing wonderful things for your peace of mind. 

The sound of your name in a crackling call made you startle. “What’s wrong? Why is your heart rate so high?”

Your HUD identified the voice as belonging to Fixer. “I’m-”

The explanation, whatever it was going to be, cut off as you were jostled again. This time, it was a hard enough hit to push you forward, and you staggered slightly as you tried to keep hold of the datapad without stepping into the path of droids whirring back and forth. 

“Back off!” a harsh voice commanded and you noted with more than a little relief that Sev was closer than any of the other Deltas. Clearly, he had left the ship. 

“Or what?” one trooper called challengingly. “We’re just having some fun.”

“Fun’s over.” You couldn’t see Sev’s face, but you knew exactly how it would look - darkness simmering behind a tightly controlled expression. 

Another trooper scoffed. “You commandos think you’re so much better than us. This one won’t even talk to us.” 

That made you freeze, overcome by a strange mixture of shame and fear. A gauntleted hand entered your frame of vision, wrapping around your wrist and giving a tug. You recognized the jagged lines of red paint and let Sev pull you toward him, stepping free of the group of troopers at the same time. 

“C’mon, vod,” a trooper jeered. With your new perspective, you could see that none of them were wearing helmets, and there was a look of derision on this man’s face. “You’d be better off letting us standard troopers into the commando force. That one’s clearly defective.”

“If you men don’t have anything more important to do than harass my people, I’ll speak to your CO and see what we can figure out,” Boss said firmly, such durasteel in his tone that the troopers straightened, looking uncertain. They didn’t walk away, however, and the reason why was apparent only a moment later when an imposing figure approached you. 

“Commander Wolffe,” Boss greeted with a salute. 

“Sergeant,” the commander returned. Like his men, he wasn’t wearing a helmet. His bare face was stern, the harshness of it accentuated by the wicked-looking scar over one eye. The helmet tucked beneath one arm was painted to look like some kind of animal and his posture was precise. 

Commander Wolffe looked like a man who had little patience, and that impression was only solidified when he asked, “Why are you giving orders to my men?” 

“Permission to speak freely, sir,” Boss requested. With a glance at the men still standing nearby, he added, “And privately.”

Wolffe gave a slow nod, eyes traveling to the men behind you. They watched him eagerly and his voice was sharp as he said, “Dis-missed.”

You had never seen a group disperse so quickly.

“Your men were harassing a member of my squad,” Boss reported, removing his helmet so the other man could see the disapproval on his face. “We can all deal with jokes, but I can’t stand by and let my people be physically pushed around.” 

The commander’s gaze moved to you, critically assessing you in a way that made you want to shift uncomfortably. “Take your helmet off.” 

With your eyes hidden behind plastoid and transparisteel, you had no idea how Boss knew that you had looked at him for confirmation, but you were grateful for his subtle nod anyway. As soon as you had your sergeant’s approval, you broke the seal on your helmet and lifted it free. 

The air on Isiring was cool at best, far from cold, but it felt frigid on your face after being confined in the helmet for so long. You took a deep breath, straightened your spine, and made eye contact with Commander Wolffe. 

“This must be your first mission,” he said cryptically. You had a moment of panic, wondering what you had done so wrong that he knew you were - as Scorch said - a shiny, but a corner of Wolffe’s mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Otherwise, I would have heard about this already.”

You looked helplessly at Boss, searching for a hint about what to do next, but he looked as amused as the commander. Without any further leads, you let your manners take over. You held a hand out toward Commander Wolffe, introducing yourself as he shook it with a firm grip. “I’m a specialist assigned to work with Delta Squad.” 

“Commander Wolffe, leader of the 104th battalion,” he offered in return. “We don’t get many females out here, especially not attached to commando squads. If the men get stupid, come find me.” 

“I- will,” you stammered. “Thank you, sir.” 

Wolffe released your hand and nodded at Boss. “Sergeant.” 

“Commander.” 

And then the commander walked away. Your embarrassment, having faded during the semi-normal conversation, flared back to life as you caught sight of the dozen wide-eyed troopers watching you from the edges of the camp. You jammed the helmet back on your head and looked down at the datapad, frantically moving to catch up with the droid workers who were waiting for additional commands. 

“Hey.” 

You glanced up, attention caught by the urgency in Boss’s tone. “Yes?” 

“We have more work to do on the ship, but we’re on the same HUD loop,” he reminded. “If you have any more problems, shout ‘em out. We’ll come take care of it.” 

“Thank you, Sergeant,” you told him, but you felt yourself slump as he walked away. Half an hour on the ground and you’d already needed a rescue and caused a tense interaction between your commanding officer and the leader of the relief camp. It wasn’t an auspicious start.

---

Author's Note - I am so sorry, guys. I knew it had been a while since I last updated, but I missed that it's been EIGHT MONTHS. I post a chapter of a fic every week across my accounts (or, at least, I try), but I don't have a firm schedule about which fics get updated when.

Thank you all for your patience, assuming that anyone is still interested in this story. I can't promise that I'll start posting it super often, but I'm sure I can do better than once a year!

[shrenvents]

Miracle Aligner

Alex Turner Series

Series Masterlist

Summary: Who knew Alex Turner, frontman to one of the greatest bands of this generation had the worst luck in love. As a romantic who's quite familiar with heartbreak, Turner's grown sick of looking for a spark that will eventually burn him. So, while visiting a local pub, how was he supposed to know that a drunken Tuesday night, would change his sombre tune forever?

Inspired by the album Everything You've Come To Expect. Mature content (sexual acts, language) Original character.

Chapter one:

Aviation

Toronto, November 15, 2015

5:57 pm

Alex's POV

"That's enough Turner!" Zach yells over the various clamouring instruments. "You've been working on these songs for weeks and this was the best you got mate?" Jaime continues with a snort. "Yeah?" I huff, rolling my eyes.

Jaime and Zach exchange a knowing look before Zach pipes up again. "You know what Al? Why don't you call it a night, maybe go out, meet a few girls, have fun." He then glances to my right. "Miles you stay and finish your set."

"What's this?" I jest, bewildered by my bandmates.

"Sorry Al, the songs you've been writing these days just aren't the Shadow Puppets brand," Jaime trails off, looking more empathetic than his counterpart. My brows crease further into my eyelids and I dully unclasp the guitar strap from my shoulder. "My songs don't fit the 'brand' of my band?" I glare at them in disbelief as the two share another look.

"Sorry Al, but your material has been all doom and gloom these days." Miles now exclaims while avoiding my troubled expression. He pauses before continuing. "Your greatest hits are love songs, passionate shite." Miles's eyes then connect with my own, and I finally understand what he's implying. "It's been a while mate." His last statement was the final blow.

That's right, I haven't been with anyone for months, romantically, physically, and everybody knows it. These days I just find romance to be tiresome. Even a shag doesn't seem to excite me much anymore. I've simply gone mad, that's what it is.

Though they seem to have me all figured out, I refuse to give in to their remarks. "You lot have lost it. I'll come back when you've come to your senses!" I bark out while snatching up my guitar and jacket. The boy's faint snickers fill the room as I take off towards the door. "Aw c'mon, Al!" Jaime carries out, stifling his laughter. I slam the door behind me with unnecessary force, utterly infuriated.

Instantly after leaving the studio, I feel the blistering Canadian winter encase my narrow frame. "Bugger," I snit before whipping out my phone, in hopes an Uber would usher me away from this frost. To my dismay, because of the excessive snowfall, transport was either delayed or unavailable, and I had no interest in sticking around roadside. So, I switched to searching for a local pub, racing out of the cold.

...

After a numbing 10-minute journey, I reached a pub called Les Cactus and ripped open its wooden entrance, embracing its heat. Whilst I take a seat on the nearest bar stool, a flash of red catches the corner of my eyes. A waitress with her back turned serves drinks to a group of men who gawk at her with an unreserved fancy. Momentarily, I admire her long, fiery hair that flows down her fit backside. Fortunately, the incoming bartender removes me from my fairly pervy thoughts. "What can I get for ya buddy?" The bartender ranks down my features, odd excitement filling his own. "You got any Bulleit?" He smirks.

"Sure thing." He spins away from me, before quickly rotating back and whispering for my ears only, "Big fan by the way." I smile politely with a nod as he disappears into the bar to prepare my drink. My gaze returns to the space where the redhead once stood, which is now vacant. "Here ya go. Let me know if you need anything else!" The bartender ponders shortly before speaking, "My name's Mickey by the way." He places my bourbon down with an oddly suggestive wink.

8:24 pm

"Maybe consider spacing out your next drink Alex. I get you're a millionaire and money ain't a thing," Mickey bobs his head, taking note of appearance, "but you're kinda overdoing it buddy," he finishes. I scoff at his smirk and slap a bill on the countertop. "Another." My face and tone drop in an attempt to be taken seriously, but my drunken command doesn't detour Mickey's delight.

"You're the boss."

"Uh-uh, that's at least his sixth drink this hour M." An unfamiliar feminine voice pitches in. It's husky and demanding, and so, I intend to listen. Curiously turning to look, my vision is consumed by that recognizable carrot-like head. If I was captivated before seeing her face, I was surely a goner now.

Mickey ceases his actions while she stares between us with scrutiny. I'm gobsmacked and she clearly takes my silence as a sort of confirmation. "Right, no more for him. Okay M?" Mickey nods sternly, face falling moderately as her tone leaves no room for opposition. "Alexander!" I practically cry out before Red gets the chance to leave. Smooth Turner.

"Excuse me?"

"I-uh, name's Alex..." Yeah, very smooth.

"Jennie." She states curtly, evidently bemused. She then moves swiftly on her heel towards the kitchen. Straight away I grimace, pulling a hand to my forehead, rubbing its lines harshly. "Not a word." Mickey chuckles quietly and goes back to his work.

9:41 pm

"Still here, Alexander?" My head shoots up, startled by Red. When did I even fall asleep-

"Yes?" She snorts at my jumbled reply.

"Want me to call you a cab? A shrink perhaps?"

"M' sorry?" I question clumsily.

"Oh? I just thought you may need one, after hearing what you told to Mickey." Her sultry voice echoes out her rather devious grin. "God." My eyes widen in horror which aids her impending elation. "What have I said?"

"Nothing really, just that..." She starts counting her digits absentmindedly. "You've got no luck writing your music, no love life. Oh, and you have no sex life!" She proclaims the last part with glee. Jesus, please end this nightmare.

"I did not."

"Did too."

"I've had too much drink."

"Drunken words are sober thoughts." Jennie carries on smiling at my trepidation. Maybe I'd find her charming if her jokes weren't at my expense. "That's it, I'm not tipping." I declare pathetically. Her devilish smirk doesn't falter. "Seriously? Things can't be that bad! Mickey tells me you're actually a successful musician."

"That you've obviously never heard of." I roll my eyes at the absurdity of our conversation. She laughs aloud at my response, which I admit, brought a genuine smile to my face. It really has been a while. Her face then goes blank. "Alexander."

"Alex."

"Alex. You're young." She pauses, her gaze sweeps my shaggy appearance. "Ish"

"Ouch." I flinch jokingly, earning myself another gorgeous laugh and playful swat.

"Hey! And you're good-looking."

"Ish." I interrupt again with a chuckle and her smile grows.

"No!" She more or less shouts, "You have a lot to work with, trust me." Her hands gesture nimbly. "The only thing standing in the way of you getting laid is yourself." A surprise roar of laughter leaves my lips shortly and I shake my head in disbelief.

"You're selling yourself short here Alexander," Red concludes. "Alex-"

"You're wasting your youth-ish," she interrupts me once again and a sliver of silence washes over us. It's as if we're the only ones in this packed pub, eyes locked on one another, communicating beyond words. Her deep hazel orbs focus on my brown ones. "What do you suggest I do then, Jennie?" Lightly raising a brow, my words dare her while her lovely name rolls off my tongue. I can't help but revel in how it sounds. Then something flashes in her fixated stare.

"Let's get out of here."

Chapter two

[endlessnightlock]

The Weight of Attraction

aka The Thicc Katniss Story

An In-Panem Everlark a/u

Imagine a world where a canon Katniss Everdeen is not a tiny, underfed girl. Picture her as more...substantial. Big ol' butt. A rounded belly. Broad shoulders. Tatas for days. A girl who is much like the author of this story (lol). Transport yourselves to this world, and enjoy your stay.

"I'm sorry, that's all I've got today," Katniss apologized. "Caught some tracks today--- a lynx or something is hanging around my spot. Scared most the game away." 

She didn't add that cold months weren't ideal for hunting. Sae already knew that; she'd spent enough years cooking her "winter special" entrail and tree bark stew to think otherwise. No matter what was in the pot, folks still had to eat. They were, for the most part, grateful to have it. 

Still, the two women frowned at the scrawny hares laid out on the back counter. Realists, both of them, but even they hoped for a proverbial bone to be thrown their way occasionally. Sae sighed. It was a soft little noise that held no trace of censure. "Ah, tis alright. With the roots you brought yesterday, I can make it stretch in the pot. Boil the bones till there's nothing left of them. Still got salt. Salt goes a long way to making anything palatable."

Sae's stand was tucked in a back corner of the Hob. Due to location, it should have afforded some privacy for their trades and conversation. But privacy was difficult to find, and soon enough, a voice that made Katniss cringe piped up from the counter where folks came for a bowl of Sae's stew. 

"What's the matter, not enough meat on their bones? Didn't leave enough in the woods for anyone else to eat?" the man asked.

Katniss had thought she and Sae were alone but of course. Shit. No such luck. Darius invariably showed up at the Hob when she did, like he was equipped with a sturdy girls radar. It wouldn't break her heart if that one bit of luck failed him. It was her turn to sigh. 

Darius was, while not threatening, very much a shithead. Sae insisted he had a yen for Katniss, "pay him no mind. He teases ya like a little boy would in school. Too tongue-tied to make an intelligent remark. Looks like a sick sheep, that one."

If Darius hankered for Katniss's company, bringing up her plump figure wasn't getting him anywhere. Or just commenting on anything to do with her looks in general. 

Not that she found Darius handsome. Blech.

"Keep that up, and you'll be getting nothing in your bowl today," Sae chided the redheaded Peacekeeper mildly. She stayed neutral regarding customer spats, at least in front of them.

"Nar, don't do that. I was only having some fun with her," Darius said. 

On a practical level, because Katniss was nothing, if not that, she knew she was fortunate to have a little meat on her bones living in a place like Twelve, where food was difficult to come by. 

Extra padding in the winter probably kept her from freezing out in the woods, but why anyone thought she wanted to hear their opinion about her body was beyond her. Just because there was a little more of her didn't mean she was open to any and all comments. It made her feel like she and her body were separate beings. There was Katniss, who lived inside her head, and then there was Katniss, who was stuck inside her legs, her ass, her chest. 

"You're a fucking idiot. No wonder you're sitting alone in the barracks every weekend. I wouldn't talk to you either if I were a woman," another Peacekeeper, whose voice Katniss didn't recognize, chided Darius, piquing her interest.

"Ha! I get plenty far with them, thank you very much."

"Sure you do," the other man said condescendingly. "Lots of dates with Sally-five-fingers is more like it."

Katniss had to choke back her laughter; she wouldn't openly encourage whoever was digging at Darius because that wasn't her. That didn't mean she didn't enjoy hearing disparaging remarks slung his way, though. Having her thoughts echoed in solidarity was good for a mood boost. 

After schooling her features into something neutral, Katniss glanced over her shoulder, immediately catching the eye of the unfamiliar Peacekeeper accompanying Darius. 

Despite not knowing him, the new Peacekeeper shot her a boyish grin, and she wanted to laugh at his cheekiness. A charmer, that one. 

Katniss suddenly knew with absolute certainty, call it intuition or the sight or what have you, the Peacekeeper had been looking her over. But not like Darius, who she was sure thought of her like a nice bit of pork at the butcher shop. Katniss was an anomaly in Twelve, where most women were near-skeletal in mid-winter from lack of nutrition. The new Peacekeeper gazed at her more as if she was impossible not to look at. 

It was a silly impression to hold of a man she'd not been formally introduced to. But hold onto it, she did, because she found him more than worth looking at.

Katniss tore her glance from his smiling eyes but scolded herself for her cowardice. It was alright for her to return the favor of looking each other over. Even if scrutinizing the new Peacekeeper left her itchy inside her skin like pins were pricking at every nerve. 

Darius might be tall, Katniss decided, but the new Peacekeeper was much taller. He practically dwarfed her, a near-impossible feat among most men she'd met. 

The man effortlessly bestowed a feeling of not sticking out like a sore thumb on her. Because he wasn't just tall but very broad-shouldered, the sleeves of his white uniform straining over an obviously thick chest and arms. 

A little jolt ran down Katniss's spine at the completely new and unexpected reaction to another person. She even wondered what he might look like underneath his clothes. She'd never contemplated what a man might look like naked. 

Her fingers twitched at her sides, and she clenched them into fists, telling her hands to behave themselves. They couldn't reach out to a stranger.

The Peacekeeper was fair-skinned. His eyes were blue, and his hair was ash blond, like the merchant class who ran the shops in town. His skin was ruddy from the January air and perhaps some embarrassment at nearly getting caught staring at her ass. He didn't realize��she knew exactly what he'd been up to. He thought he was in the clear, staring at her ass like he'd been. But no. Katniss was sure of it. He'd been staring at her ass.

"And who might you be?" Sae asked the handsome ass-looker, assessing him casually. She turned back to Katniss and raised her eyebrows in approval. Katniss pointedly ignored her. As if she couldn't see with her own eyes.

"Peeta Mellark," the Peacekeeper said, sliding onto one of the tall stools on the customer side of Sae's front counter. 

"A Mellark. Now that you say it, you look a bit like the baker Mellarks. Surely you're related."

"In town? Yeah, I think so. My dad said we had some far-reaching relations here. I come from Seven," Peeta supplied, unconcerned by the questions Sae most certainly did not pump your everyday 'Keeper for at their first meeting. 

Sae sucked air in through her teeth. "Heard they grew 'em big out in Seven. And they were right. And a Mellark to boot! How interesting. Katniss, don't you think that's interesting?" she added, dragging Katniss's attention away from the width of Peeta's shoulders where her eyes kept invariably drifting. 

Katniss didn't mean to stare. She just couldn't look away from him.

Peeta Mellark met her eye. "Katniss?" 

Katniss nodded her assent, hating the heat in her throat and face. Her voice would have trembled if she'd tried to speak or come out high and thin.

"That's an unusual name," Peeta said as if waiting for more of an answer from her. Like he had to know more about her.

"Our Katniss is a bit of an unusual person," Sae said when she sensed Katniss floundering under his attention. "Takes good care of her family."

"Family. Are you married? Do you have children?"

Sae's smile stretched wide enough to expose those gaps in the back of her mouth where teeth hadn't resided for years at his question. "Our Katniss has no husband or children, just one sister and mother. Tis a pity no one's offered for her yet."

"Sae," Katniss said.

"I have a hard time believing no one's offered for her," Peeta said. 

Sae turned away to ladle stew into bowls and slide them in front of Peeta and Darius, the latter of whom might as well have disappeared with so little attention he was being paid. 

"Maybe she's picky. Those who can care for themselves have room to be so. Perhaps she has no use for men."

"None so far, but I'm thinking that'll change. You got to admit, she's a good-looking girl, right?" Sae prodded.

"Stop," Katniss begged, pressing her back against the wall and crossing her arms over her stomach, wishing she could melt into the sooty walls. She'd developed this stance after puberty hit her right between the eyes---self-defensive and emerging whenever she was nervous or anxious. The goal was to disappear into her father's worn leather jacket, where she wasn't scrutinized as much. 

But she'd left his coat on Sae's back counter. With the thin shirt, she'd thrown on in the wee hours of the morning and promptly forgotten about, crossing her arms over her stomach only accentuated her breasts, pushing them farther up and out until she realized too late there was cleavage peeking out the neckline of her shirt.

Darius made a strangled noise that had Katniss instantly furious. "Wow, you ought to wear that shirt more often. Really brings out...your eyes," he said, definitely not looking at her eyes.

Ass.

Well, that was enough time at the Hob for one day, Katniss decided suddenly. She wouldn't be trotted out like a prize breeding swine on the auction block and then poked fun at on top of it. "You're a twit," Katniss hissed at Darius. She turned away from the three, grabbing her coat and game bag. "Sae, we can settle up later," she said. 

Katniss never settled up later, not when they all existed on the margins, but she was that anxious to go.

"Sure we can," Sae told her. Sounded amused, even.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Katniss ran into Peeta a few days later at Sae's counter, where he sat working his way through a bowl of stew. Minus Darius, fortunately. 

Katniss had thought about Peeta a lot, but she'd also spent a fair amount of time considering how she would make Darius pay for his comment about her breasts. Maybe ask Sae to slip a pinch of foxglove in his bowl next time he shows up. Giving Darius the shits would do plenty to soothe her mind. 

Dismissing pleasant thoughts of revenge she most likely wouldn't act on, Katniss walked past Peeta to trade with Sae. This time he kept his eyes off her ass as she rounded the counter to the back table. She was a little disappointed. "That's a nice-looking bird," he remarked as she unloaded a pheasant from her bag.

Katniss cocked an eyebrow at him. Yes, Peeta was handsome as they come, but was he asking her to talk to him, a Peacekeeper, about her hunting, which the Capitol most certainly regarded as poaching? 

"Don't worry," Peeta pushed his now-empty bowl across the counter and wiped his mouth. "I wouldn't shoot myself in the foot that way, so to speak. Enjoying the fruits of your labor too much. That's just. Really impressive."

She tipped her chin up, meeting his eye. Any pretense of flirting pushed back. "Alright then," she said. "Just see that you don't, Peeta Mellark." 

He smiled when his name crossed her lips.

After collecting her bowl of the day's stew, Katniss took the stool beside him. They didn't speak much, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable.

KPKPKPKPKP

On a warmer afternoon a week or so later, Katniss was stepping through the scraggly brush leading up to the back entrance of the Hob when Peeta, after glancing around, stepped out one of the rear doors, shoving his face shield up before reaching her side. 

His expression made her frown in confusion. "What's going on?" she asked, tugging on the strap of her bag protectively.

"You can't be here today," he murmurred, tugging on her arm, giving her no chance to broker an argument. He touched her lower back when she resisted and herded her toward the Seam road.

Katniss stared at him in disbelief as they moved, the thoughts inside her head clacking like a sack of coal instead of connecting into coherent thoughts.

"New Head' Keeper," Peeta explained. "This one is bad news. He doesn't let things go like Cray did." He stopped once they were effectively camouflaged behind an oak tree and dropped his hand from her side, stepping back to put a respectful distance between them.

She appreciated his manners but missed his touch immediately. She wouldn't mind a little handsiness from him. Then again, he wouldn't be the respectful man she knew. He'd never even glanced at her ass after the first time.

"Thank you, I guess. Now I owe you one," Katniss told him, hastily shrugging off her jacket and snugging her game bag against her side before sliding the coat back on while Peeta glanced around, making sure they were still alone. 

She should be able to get home unnoticed with her bag hidden that way. But that was just the start of her problems. 

She sighed. She'd have to think of another way to trade until the heat was off. If the heat ever would be off. She'd only known one Head' Keeper her whole life. She didn't imagine it was a position in the corps that opened up often.

Peeta quietly laughed at her disgruntled attitude. "No, nothing owed," he insisted when she scowled at him. "I just wouldn't want to see anything happen to you, that's all."

Katniss caught his eye before looking away and nodding. "Just the kindness of your heart, then," she said softly, heart fluttering in her throat.

"Something like that," he murmurred.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKP

"This way," Katniss hissed, tugging Peeta's hand to get him going as Peacekeepers raced past his inert form to escape the blaze gnawing its way across the rooftops. Hundreds were flooding out the gates away from the fire. The district was on fire. 

Katniss couldn't leave Peeta behind even if she couldn't budge his big dumb ass, not after risking her life just to get to the barracks and warn him. At least her mother and Prim were going to the lake with Gale; she trusted her friend to get them safely in the woods.

Peeta had gone mute in horror and shock at the sight of the destruction, frozen to his spot like that thick layer of ice that sealed in the lake in deep winter, locked in place until spring thaw. Theoretically, Katniss thought, because he was a horse of a man and she couldn't do it herself, he could be forcibly moved, but it would require much more strength than even she had.

Twelve blazed, the hungry fire sweeping through the district, devouring every structure in the Seam and Town. The fire had started in the Hob, flames engulfing the coal-soaked warehouse like dry leaves in a burn barrel, and a stiff wind coming down from the mountainside kept the fire in perpetual motion, allowing it to consume everything in sight.

In desperation, because the heat of the flames was growing stronger at her back, Katniss stood on her toes and grasped Peeta's face, forcing him down to her. She kissed him; it was hard and insistent and inexperienced. His lips were soft, cold, and unresponsive.

Kissing him had probably been a stupid move, but it roused him from his stupor. When Katniss opened her eyes, Peeta stared at her, wide-eyed in stupefaction. He was breathing heavily. She was breathing heavily, too, her heart skipping a panicked rhythm for all sorts of reasons she had no time to separate into neat, labeled boxes. "Peeta, we have to go. You need to come with me. It's not safe here."

"Huh? Yeah. Yeah, okay," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Everything is just gone."

Katniss squeezed his hands and then gave them a light tug. "Don't be sorry. Just move. We don't have much time."

Part 1 of 2

What's this? Katniss and Peeta are thrust together by a joint need for survival? Whatever shall they do? ;)

[longitudinalwaveme]

Fictober 2024--Aurora Borealis

Day 14: “Let’s Try This.” 

It's the Len Snart as a Green Lantern AU!

Len Snart was sitting in his rundown motel room, flipping through a newspaper, when a particular article caught his eye. It was about the Flash, the superpowered crimefighter who had recently popped up two years ago in his hometown of Central City—and who was sure to be a real pain in the neck. Evading the cops was one thing. All that took was caution and timing (although having glasses that could intercept radio bands from squad cars definitely helped). Evading a man who could run fast enough to break the sound barrier? Len was no scientific expert, but even he knew that that was probably impossible. 

Impossible unless there was a way to slow him down…and this article said that some scientist types were publishing an article on the Flash’s speed. If Len could get his hands on that article, maybe it would give him some ideas of how to evade even the city’s new so-called superhero. 

Len snorted. Superhero indeed. Superpowered cop was more like it…and where had the cops been when his old man took a beer bottle to his shoulder? Or when he’d gone after his little sister with a lit cigarette?

Lookin’ the other way, that’s where. Because his old man had been a cop too, and even though he’d been kicked off the force, he still had enough connections to get them to turn a blind eye. And like as not, the Flash would be the same way. Which meant Len was going to do everything he could to stay out of his way—especially since the Flash had been the reason he’d spent the last couple of years in the state pen. 

He’d look into getting his hands on that scientific article tomorrow. But for tonight, he was going to suffer through tonight’s Cubs game. Len reached for the remote and was about to turn on the TV when he was suddenly enveloped in a bright green light. His motel room disappeared, and suddenly found himself standing in a large empty field. Central City’s skyline was still visible in the distance, so he hadn’t been transported too far away, but that didn’t explain how he had been in his motel room one second and outside of the city the next. 

And it definitely didn’t explain the wrecked spaceship, which looked like something out of the science fiction comics that his grandfather had given him when he was a kid. So either aliens were real, or some weirdo had blown a ridiculous amount of time and money on pranking him. The only way to find out which was to go into the spaceship. 

“I must be losin’ my mind,” Len muttered as he made his way toward the crashed spaceship. For all he knew, this might be some sort of alien trap—but while he’d always been cautious, he’d never been one to avoid a situation just because it might be dangerous. If he had, he’d still be under the thumb of his old man. 

“Come in, Earthman,” a voice suddenly said. Len followed the voice to see a pink-skinned, yellow-eyed guy, dressed in some sort of green and black uniform. He was basically human in shape, but something about him told Len that this wasn’t some guy in makeup. This was a real alien—and he didn’t look so hot. 

“Who are you? What’s goin’ on here?” Len asked. 

“My name is Abin Sur. I am not of Earth, but of a far distant planet. And I am dying,” the alien said weakly.

“Uh, if you were tryin’ to call a doctor, you got the wrong guy. I don’t know the first thing about medicine. If you need help, you should probably use whatever fancy tech you used to teleport me here to teleport us to Central City General Hospital,” Len said. The hospital might not know how to treat an alien, either, but they would be a lot more likely to be able to help than some borderline-illiterate ex-con. 

“No. It is too late to help me. Besides, I must speak to you on a matter of great importance,” the alien replied. 

“You’ve gotta tell someone about somethin’ more important than your life—and you grabbed me?” Len asked. He was starting to think that this alien guy must have gotten brain damage in the crash. 

“Yes. Look at this battery, Earthman,” the alien said. He pointed to his right, where Len saw something that looked like the old-timey lantern his grandfather had owned—only glowing green. 

“Looks like some kinda…. green lantern.”  

“Yes….in your words, a green lantern. But actually it is a battery of power, given only to selected space patrolmen in the super-galactic system, to be used as a weapon against the forces of evil and injustice.” 

“So you’re some sorta space cop?” Len asked. 

“Indeed. We call ourselves the Green Lantern Corps, and it is our duty, when disaster strikes, to pass on the battery of power to another who is fearless—and honest. The battery has already selected you as one who has been made immune to fear. Come closer to me, Earthman, so that I may use my ring to scan you and measure your honesty,” the alien replied. Len actually laughed. Was this alien really trying to recruit him as a space cop? 

“Much as I hate to disappoint you, pal, I think you got the wrong guy. Maybe your battery got damaged when your spaceship crashed or somethin’, I don’t know, but I’m an ex-con. Been in and out of jail since I was eighteen. I don’t think I’m somebody the other space cops would wanna take on as a rookie,” Len said. The alien didn’t seem to care, though, as he pointed his hand at Len, and a beam shot out from the ring on his finger—a ring that was shaped to look like a lantern. Apparently the space cops liked to stay on brand. 

“Hey! If you really are dyin’, quit wastin’ your time on me and teleport the Flash here. He’s all noble and upstandin’ and crap, and he’s even got powers. He’s the guy you wanna make a space cop.” 

“By the green beam of my ring, I see that you do not put up pretenses. You are exactly as you appear to be. So you pass both tests.” Len’s theory that the alien was brain damaged was becoming more and more likely by the second. 

“Sure, I don’t make no bones about what I am—but what I am is an ex-con! A cheap crook! And you’re tryin’ to recruit a new space cop! For all you know, I’ll use the badge as a cover to rob people blind without gettin’ caught!” 

“No. You won’t,” the alien replied.

“What’s gonna stop me? You’re about to kick the bucket, ain’t you?” 

“What’s going to stop you, Leonard Snart, is you. Though you have been a criminal and an evildoer, and thus have no love lost for the law enforcement of this planet, you still despise those who cover their acts of wickedness and evil with the badge of righteousness. You would not join their number—for if you did, you would be exactly like your father.” 

“How do you—”

“When the ring scanned you to measure your honesty, it also allowed me to probe your mind and learn of your history.”

“It did what?” 

“There is still much to tell you, and only moments left! My ship was battered…in the deadly radiation bands surrounding your planet. A terrible yellow light, similar to your aurora borealis, blinded me at the controls. Then I crashed.”

“And how does any of this make me a good candidate for bein’ a space cop?” 

“Only seconds left to tell you…once you have the battery, you will have power over everything—except that which is yellow!” 

“Yellow? Like, the color? 

“The unique metal which charges the battery with its wondrous power has a yellow impurity in it. Strangely enough, if that yellow impurity is removed, the battery instantly loses its power. It is this impurity in the battery which will make you powerless over anything yellow!” 

  “So the ring will let me read minds like a creepy weirdo and teleport terrible choices for new space cops anywhere I want, but I’ll be up a creek without a paddle if someone comes at me with a banana?” 

“Now, take my ring. Let me put it on you. With this ring you will drain power from the battery, effective every twenty four hours,” the alien said as he grabbed Len’s hand. If he hadn’t obviously been on his deathbed, Len would’ve socked him in the nose, but even he wasn’t quite low enough to punch a dying guy in the face. He took the ring from his finger and slipped it onto the ring finger of Len’s right hand. 

“Seriously, you should really go find the Flash for this. Or an Earth cop. Or anybody who, you know, isn’t a criminal,” Len said. 

“The battery has chosen you, Leonard Snart. I do not pretend to understand why, or how, but it has—which means there must be some good in you.” Len snorted. 

“Sure there is. Which is why I knock over liquor stores.” The alien fixed him with a really intense stare. 

“Your grandfather was a good man, Leonard Snart. For his sake, and as my dying request, I charge you: swear to use this ring to fight for justice, and to atone for the life of crime you have led.” 

Len had always known on some level that his grandfather wouldn’t be real happy if he had been alive to learn about the line of work he had taken up, but he’d never had anyone directly confront him with it before. The guilt that stirred up, combined with the force of someone’s last request, swamped his better judgment. 

“Okay, okay. I swear.” 

“In order to charge your ring, you must touch the ring to the battery and recite the oath of the Green Lantern Corps,” the alien said. Len walked over to the battery and touched the ring to it. 

“Now, repeat after me. In brightest day—” 

“In brightest day.” 

“In darkest night—” 

“In darkest night.” 

“No evil shall escape my sight.”

“No evil shall escape my sight.”  Len wanted to ask if that “evil” included him, but decided against it. The alien was about to kick the bucket, after all.

“Let those who worship evil’s might…” 

“Let those who worship evil’s might.” 

“Beware my power—Green Lantern’s light!” 

“Beware my power—Green Lantern’s light!” The ring and the battery both glowed a bright green, and Len suddenly found himself dressed in a black-and-green costume identical to the one the alien was wearing. The appearance of the costume was followed a few seconds later by a rush of energy that wasn’t like anything Len had ever felt before. If this was the power of a Green Lantern, no wonder the oath warned people to beware of it. 

The alien slumped, as though he had used up the last of his strength. 

“Now, I have told you all. Do not fail me.” The alien’s eyes closed and his body fell still, and Len didn’t need a super-powered ring to know that he was dead. Len wondered if the guy had an alien family. Since Len had apparently been chosen to be his replacement, was he supposed to track them down and tell them about his death if he did? How was any of this supposed to work? 

“Abin Sur leaves behind a son, Amon Sur, a sister, Arin Sur, and a niece, Soranik Natu,” a robotic voice said. After a few seconds of panic, Len realized that the voice was coming from the ring—which meant that the ring could answer at least some questions. 

“Am I supposed to—” 

“No. The news of Abin Sur’s death has already reached the Guardians of the Universe, to whom all Green Lanterns report. They will send a messenger to inform his loved one of his passing.” Len sighed in relief. The last thing he wanted was to have to tell a total stranger—a total stranger from another planet, no less—-that his old man had died. 

“They gonna pick up the body, too?” 

“No. Abin Sur considered all the planets in Sector 2814 as his own, and requested that he should be buried on the planet where he died,” the ring replied. Len swore. He didn’t particularly like the idea of having to dig somebody’s grave, but even he didn’t feel right leaving the guy’s corpse to rot. Which meant he was gonna have to bury Abin Sur. 

Two hours later, Abin Sur was buried, and Len used the ring to mark his grave with a glowing green tombstone. It wasn’t much, but he wasn’t an undertaker. Hopefully his efforts would keep the space cop from rolling over in his grave, at least.

“Rest in peace, I guess,” he muttered. Then he looked down at his ring. 

“You mind takin’ me back home? Standin’ around a dead guy’s grave is startin’ to give me the creeps.”. The ring enveloped him in the green light, and after a few seconds he found himself back in his motel room. The battery had apparently come along for the ride, since it was resting next to the bed. 

“And can I have my regular clothes back? You might’ve chosen me to be a space cop, but I ain’t exactly on the clock right now.” There was another flash of green light, and Len was relieved to look down and see that his clothes were back to normal. It would’ve been kind of hard to explain to the motel owner why he was wandering around in a green-and-black leotard. 

Len yawned, and decided that he could plan out his next move in the morning. He walked over to his bed, laid down on it without even bothering to take off his clothes, and was soon fast asleep.

****************************************************************************** When Len woke up, he rolled over on his bed—only to see the power battery. He swore. So much for his hope that his encounter with the alien space cop had been a dream brought on from eating week-old takeout. 

Which meant that life as he had known it had come to a very sudden end. Len sighed wearily and looked down at the lantern-shaped ring on his finger. 

“You have some sort of space cop manual or something? ‘Cause I ain’t got the foggiest idea of what I’m supposed to do now,” Len asked. 

“As a newly recruited member of the Green Lantern Corps, your first task is to report to the Guardians of the Universe on the planet Oa,” the ring replied. 

“Wait. I have to go to another planet?” Len didn’t even like leaving Central City!

“The journey will not be arduous. I am programmed to be able to transport you to Oa instantaneously.” Len’s first instinct was to say that there was no way he was leaving Earth, but then he realized something. If he allowed the ring to take him to these Guardians of the Universe, they would realize that the ring—or maybe Abin Sur—had been damaged in the crash and chose the wrong guy. Then they would give the ring to someone who would actually make sense as a space cop—someone like the Flash—and Len could go back to his normal life.

“Then take me there.” There was a flash of green light, and Len suddenly found himself standing in front of a massive building, one that wasn’t like anything he had ever seen on Earth. He was also back in the green-and-black leotard, but he didn’t really mind wearing it for the sake of the trip that would allow him to get rid of it. 

After a few seconds of wondering if he should go inside the building or wait for the Guardians of the Universe to invite him in, he was approached by a huge creature with a face that kind of looked like a cross between a pig and a bulldog. He had to be at least eight feet tall, and Len was tensing himself for a fight when he noticed that the creature was wearing the same uniform that he was. The bulldog pig was a Green Lantern, just like Abin Sur had been. 

“Are you the new Green Lantern from Sector 2814? Abin Sur’s successor?” he asked. 

“I guess so, yeah. I…wasn’t exactly expecting to be chosen for the job,” Len replied.

“I’m Kilowog, the Green Lantern of Sector 674. I’m from the planet Bolovax Vik, and I’m here to take you to meet the Guardians of the Universe.” 

“Len. Len Snart. I’m from the planet Earth.” Kilowog’s face seemed to scrunch up.

“Your planet’s named ‘Dirt’?” Len shrugged. 

“I didn’t name the planet.” Kilowog laughed. 

“Well, it’s good to meet you—even if I am going to really miss Abin Sur. He was one of the best of us,” he said. 

“He seemed like a decent guy. Even if I’m not sure that he made the right choice for a successor,” Len replied. Kilowog nodded. 

“Every Lantern feels that way when they’re first chosen by the ring. I know I did. I thought, I’m a genetic scientist. What do I know about fighting criminals? It took me a while to get the hang of the job, but I managed—-with the help of my fellow Green Lanterns, of course. And now I’m an instructor for the rookies.” 

“Which is why you’re takin’ me to the Guardians?” 

“Exactly. So, what did you do on Earth before the ring chose you as a Green Lantern?”

“I knocked over liquor stores.” Kilowog’s mouth dropped open. 

“You’re a criminal?” 

“Look, I don’t understand it any more than you do. The best I can figure is that either Abin Sur got brain damage from the spaceship crash that did him in and didn’t realize what he was doing, or the ring itself got busted and chose the wrong guy,” Len replied. 

“Come on. The Guardians have to be informed of this right away,” Kilowog said. His cheerful demeanor from earlier was gone, and he practically dragged Len inside the building where the Guardians of the Universe were, presumably, hanging out. 

“Guardians, I think something went wrong in the selection of the new Lantern for Sector 2814,” Kilowog said as he and Len entered a large, circular room. 

“Explain yourself, Kilowog.” It took Len a few seconds to figure out where the voice was coming from, but once he did, he had to stop himself from laughing. Whatever he had expected the Guardians of the Universe to look like, it definitely hadn’t been a bunch of short blue men in robes. 

“Tell them who you are,” Kilowog snapped at Len. 

“My name’s Len Snart. I’m from the planet Earth, where Abin Sur crashed, and I think that the crash that killed him must’ve also damaged his tech or given him brain damage or something, because he chose me to be the next Green Lantern of Sector 2814.” The Guardians of the Universe looked confused. 

“And why do you and Kilowog believe that this means that a mistake was made?” 

“Because I’m an ex-con—a criminal. I’m not exactly space cop material. So either the ring is busted, and it made a mistake, or whatever injuries did in Abin Sur also caused him to misunderstand what the ring was tellin’ him,” Len replied. 

“The ring does not have the power to teleport you to Oa against your will. If you are a criminal as you say, then why did you come here with it? Why did you not simply use its power to enrich yourself?” It was a good question. Why hadn’t he just done that? 

Except for the fact that it would make him exactly like his father, of course. 

“Because my old man was a crooked cop, and I’d rather die than be anything like him. I’m not gonna stand here and pretend I’m anything other than a thug, but there’s stuff even I won’t stoop to,” Len replied. The little blue guys muttered to each other, and then one of them stepped forward, pulled out some kind of ray, and shot a beam of light at Len.

“The ring is undamaged,” he said. 

“Okay, so Abin Sur hurt his head durin’ the crash or somethin’. I don’t belong here. Send me back to Earth, and let the ring choose whoever was actually supposed to be Sector 2814’s new space cop,” Len replied. 

“You don’t seem to understand, Mr. Snart. There was no mistake. As improbable as it may seem, the ring has chosen you to be our newest Green Lantern.” 

“But–” Len and Kilowog said in unison. 

“Leonard Snart, you have served your time for your previous offenses, and you are not currently wanted for any new crimes. As such, you are in effect an ordinary citizen of your planet—and eligible to be deputized as a Green Lantern.” 

“But I’m not—” 

“If you are caught using your power illicitly, we will confiscate the ring and punish you accordingly, as we would with any other Green Lantern. But as the situation currently stands, you are the Green Lantern of Sector 2814,” the little blue alien said. 

“And I can’t, like, give the job to someone who deserves it? Someone who’d actually want to do it?” 

“Leonard Snart, when I scanned the ring, it informed me that you promised Abin Sur on his deathbed that you would take up the position of Green Lantern in order to atone for your past crimes. Are you going to renege on that promise now?” Len swore. He had promised to do the job—not just to Abin Sur, but basically to his grandfather as well. 

“I’ll always keep you safe, Lisa. I promise.” 

He had broken that promise by leaving Lisa alone with their father. 

He couldn’t break this one. 

Which meant that he, Leonard Snart, a lowdown thug who distrusted cops on the best of days, was going to become a space cop. 

How did he get himself into these situations?

“I did promise. So— I guess if you’re really sure you want me, I’ll take the job. I’ll be the Green Lantern of Sector 2814.” 

“Excellent. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps, Leonard Snart.” 

“Don’t tell me you expect me to baby-sit an ex-convict,” Kilowog protested.

“We don’t expect you to baby-sit anyone—but we do expect you to help train our newest corpsmember,” the little blue guy replied. Kilowog groaned.

“Fine. But I’m going to be watching him like a hawk.” Then he turned to Len. 

“Follow me, poozer. It’s time for you to learn what being a Green Lantern is really all about,” he said. 

“Come again?” Len asked. 

“Kilowog is our drill sergeant, and will be responsible for teaching you how to utilize your ring,” the little blue guy explained. 

“Wait. Nobody said anything about any kind of boot camp. I can’t just up and disappear from Earth for six months or whatever! I got bills to pay,” Len protested. 

“Then you’d better learn fast. You promised Abin Sur that you were gonna become a Green Lantern, and if you wanna keep that promise, you gotta go through boot camp just like the rest of us,” Kilowog replied. He turned on his heels and started walking towards the door, and, after a few seconds, Len reluctantly trailed after him. 

“Okay, fine. I’m coming.” As much as he hated the idea of being away from Central City for any length of time, he had promised Abin Sur that he would do this space cop thing, so he was going to do the space cop thing. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d never had to put his life back together from scratch before. 

“Your first lesson is this: there’s no room for rogues in the Corps. You’re obviously not much for authority. That’s gonna change right now, or you’ll never get out of boot camp,” Kilowog said as the two of them walked out of the room and down a hallway. Len swore. This was gonna be a rough couple of weeks. 

“Oh, and if I catch you breaking a rule—any rule—I’ll bust you down to basics again. Even if you’re about to graduate.” 

“Gotcha. So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking—when do I get paid?” Kilowog laughed.

“Lanterns don’t get paid, poozer. Especially not during basic training.” Len didn’t think that that was very fair. Did the Green Lantern Corps really expect their space police to work for free? 

“How’m I supposed to support myself back on Earth if I ain’t getting paid?” Kilowog just laughed. 

“I give it a week before you wash out,” he said.

Len was going to make Kilowog eat those words. 

******************************************************************************

Len graduated from space cop boot camp in five and a half months. It wasn’t a record or anything like that—not least because Kilowog had meant it when he had told Len that he would bust him down to basics if he broke a rule—-but he hadn’t washed out, and he had actually completed his training well ahead of schedule. 

“I’ll give you this, poozer. You’ve gotta be the most persistent cadet I’ve ever trained,” Kilowog said as he handed Len what Len could only describe as a holographic diploma—which, now that he thought about it, was the first diploma he’d ever earned. 

“And you’re the biggest pain in the neck I’ve ever met—-but you’re a good teacher. Anybody who could steer me to a diploma’d have to be,” Len replied. As much as he hated to admit it, Kilowog had really grown on him over the past few months. 

It had helped that, unlike a lot of the other Lanterns, he’d been upfront about the fact that he didn’t trust Len one bit. Since Len knew that most of them didn’t really trust the ex-con in their ranks, he’d appreciated that Kilowog had the guts to be honest about it. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you just might have what it takes to make Abin Sur proud,” Kilowog said as the two of them shook hands. 

“Careful. You’ll make him roll over in his grave,” Len snarked. Even if he had promised to make up for his past crimes—even though he was going to do it—-he knew that he was a thug at heart. He would never be good enough to be a real hero.

Kilowog laughed. 

“Good luck out there. The first week of patrol is always a doozy,” he said.

“Thanks. See you around, Kilowog,” Len said. One of the Guardians of the Universe floated up to them. 

“Are you prepared to return to Earth, Leonard Snart?” Len had tried to convince the little blue men to just call him “Len”, but had gotten nowhere. 

“Are you kidding? I can’t wait to get back to Central City!” Len exclaimed. Lisa was probably worried sick about him by now….

“In that case, you are free to begin your first patrol, Green Lantern of Sector 2814—and may good fortune go with you.” 

There was a flash of green light, and Len was back in Central City. 

“Home, sweet home.” 

******************************************************************************

The first thing Len did after arriving on Earth, besides using his ring to change back into civilian clothes, was call his little sister on the phone. 

“Lenny?” Lisa asked. 

“Yeah, sis. It’s me,” Len replied. 

“Where have you been? No one’s heard anything from you in six months!” Lisa exclaimed. Len wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

“Sorry for not calling for so long. I was…uh…out of town on a job,” he said. Saying “I was in space cop boot camp on another planet” wasn’t something you could casually drop into a conversation. 

“Out of town? What do you mean, out of town? You never leave Central City! I thought you were dead!” 

“I’m really sorry, sis. It’s just…things came up and—-well—I had to get out of dodge for awhile.” There was a snort—the Snart snort—on the other end of the line. 

“If you’re on the run from the cops, you can just say so, Lenny. It’s not like I don’t know you’re a criminal.”

“Actually, I’m not anymore,” Len said. 

“I gathered as much, seeing as you’re calling me. I guess the heat died down?”

“No, I mean I’m not a criminal anymore.” 

“Wait. When you said you had a job, you meant that you got an actual job?”

“Yeah.” 

“What kind of job is it?” Another question Len wasn’t sure how to answer. Saying “I got hired by a bunch of little blue aliens to be a space cop” sounded crazy, and there was no way she would believe that he had been hired to be a regular cop.

On the other hand, he was going to need a second job. One that actually paid a salary. So maybe he could just make up a job and then go get hired in that position before Lisa could find out he’d lied to her. 

As an ex-con. With a felony on his record. That was never going to happen. 

Telling the truth it was, then. 

“Okay, first of all, you have to believe me when I tell you I’m not crazy.”

“Because that’s exactly what people say when they aren’t crazy,” Lisa replied. It was at this point that Len realized that he actually had a way to prove his sanity. 

“Sis, where are you?”

“I’m in my apartment. The one I stay in when I’m not on tour. Why?” There was a flash of green light, and Len materialized in his sister’s apartment. 

“Hey, sis,” he said. 

“Lenny? How—-how did you—”

“It’s kind of a long story, but the gist of it is that an alien space cop called a Green Lantern crash landed on Earth. He was fatally wounded in the crash, so he did a sweep of the surrounding area, lookin’ for people who don’t scare easy, and came up with me. Then he teleported me to him, passed on his power battery and ring to me, and told me that the ring—-it’s some sort of super-advanced tech the Green Lanterns use—had chosen me to be the next space cop of Sector 2814, which is where Earth is. It seemed totally crazy, but he was dying and really really insistent that I had to replace him, so I…kind of promised him that I would do the whole space cop thing. And then he died. I thought for sure that he’d made a mistake, so I had the ring take me to the Guardians of the Universe, these little blue guys who run the Green Lantern Corps, to tell them that they needed to find a new space cop, and I was transported to a planet called Oa.” 

“You went to another planet?” Lisa asked. 

“Yeah. It’s the one where the Guardians of the Universe live.” 

“And you’re sure you’re not crazy?” 

“Could I teleport before?” 

“Okay, fair point. So what happened after you got there?” 

“I told the Guardians that the ring had made a mistake, and they said that it hadn’t. I’ve technically served my time for all the crimes I’ve committed, and I guess that made me eligible to be chosen. But before I could be a full-fledged Green Lantern, I had to go through space cop boot camp—and that’s basically where I’ve been for the past six months. But I passed. I’ve got a diploma and everything. I’m a deputized space cop now,” Len said. He pulled out his holographic diploma, and was surprised at how proud he felt to be able to show it to his sister. 

“That’s actually really cool. I’m so proud of you, Lenny!” Lisa exclaimed.

“Thanks.” 

“Do you have a uniform? What does it look like? Can I see it?” 

“Sure, sis.” The ring glowed, and his civvies were replaced by the Green Lantern uniform.

“Wow! You look great!” Lisa exclaimed. 

“I dunno. I’m not crazy about the skintight spandex…”

“Trust me, you pull it off.” 

“If you say so.” 

“So, how much money do you make as a space cop?” Lisa asked. 

“Well, that’s the one problem with the gig. Green Lanterns get fed and sheltered on Oa, but they don’t get paid. Which means that, since I ain’t about to live full-time on another planet, I’m gonna need a second job,” Len said. Lisa grinned. 

“I know the guy who owns Central City’s ice skating rink. He’s been talking about how they need someone to run the Zamboni for months. If I recommended you, I bet he’d take you on,” she said. Len smiled.

“Well, I’ve always liked the cold. If you really think he’d hire me…that’d be great.”

And two days later, the Green Lantern of Sector 2814 was hired to be the official Zamboni driver for Central City’s biggest ice skating rink. 

*****************************************************************************

“In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil’s might beware my power—Green Lantern’s light!” The ring glowed brightly, and, now that it was fully charged, Len took off on his first official patrol. Since he had been out of the underworld loop for six months, he couldn’t exactly go chasing down specific crooks, so he was going to be limited to just sort of flying around and stopping whatever he came across, but he was definitely still  jumpy. This was his first day on the job, and he really didn’t want to make a total idiot out of himself.

And he really didn’t want to stumble across any of his former colleagues before he had some experience under his belt. Because running into them while he was still a rookie would be very awkward and might also result in him ending up very dead. 

“Guess nobody ever said this space cop thing would be easy,” he muttered to himself. 

The first hour or so of the patrol passed more or less uneventfully. Aside from some jaywalking, which wasn’t exactly the sort of evil that the power of a Green Lantern was intended to fight against, there’d been no sign of any trouble or anyone who was planning to commit a crime—and as an ex-con, Len was pretty good at spotting criminals who were trying to look casual before starting a job. 

He had been about to leave and head for a new city block when he suddenly heard a piercing scream coming from one of the apartment buildings. After using the ring to determine that the scream had come from an apartment on the third floor, he flew over to the window to see a man knock his wife to the ground. A little boy, no more than five years old, was standing nearby and sobbing. 

“Where were you today? Where were you?” the man screamed. 

“I was only at the grocery store, Ronald! I have the receipts—I can show you!” the woman pleaded. 

“Don’t lie to me! I know you were with another man! Who was it?” The little boy ran between his parents. 

“Daddy, please! Leave mommy alone!” he exclaimed. The man raised his hand, but before he could hit him, Len used the ring to open the window, and then to create an energy wall between the man and his son. 

“What the–?” the man asked. Len flew through the window and landed next to the man. 

“If you want a fight, why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” he asked. 

“Who are you?” 

“Name’s Len. Len Snart. But to you, I’m the Green Lantern,” Len replied. 

“I don’t care if you’re the Flash. You ain’t got no right to interfere with my personal life.”

“Maybe not—but I ain’t gonna just stand by and let you knock your wife around and beat up your kid,” Len replied. 

“What I do in my own house in my own business.” 

“The man who slammed a beer bottle into my shoulder when I was twelve said the same thing. And I think you’re both full of crap,” Len said. He walked through his energy wall and extended a hand to the woman. 

“You okay?” The woman took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. 

“I…I’m fine. You should go, really. Ronald isn’t normally…isn't normally like this. He’s just had a rough few days.” Len knew it was a lie. He remembered saying exactly the same thing to social workers as a kid.

 And he also knew that there probably wasn’t anything he could say or do to convince this woman to tell a stranger the truth. 

“All the same, I’m not gonna leave until I’m sure that you and the kid’ll be okay when I go,” he said. 

“If you don’t get outta my house, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” the man spat. Len laughed. 

“Go on, then. Call the cops. I’m sure they’ll be real interested to know why your wife’s got a black eye—and why you’ve got a bunch of dope and a sawed-off shotgun hidden under your couch.” Len knew from his own time as a crook that no small-timer in this situation would call the cops unless they were absolutely convinced that they were going to die. The chance of getting arrested alongside whoever was causing you the problem was way too high. 

Sure enough, Ronald didn’t call the cops. Instead, he pulled the shotgun out from underneath the couch and fired it over the energy wall—only for the bullet to be stopped by a red blur. A red blur that solidified into the Flash. 

“Somehow I doubt that you have a license for that gun,” he said. Len dropped the energy wall, and the Flash zipped over to Ronald and grabbed the shotgun out of his hands. Len took the opportunity to pin the guy to the wall with a glowing green clamp. 

“Nice work. I didn’t know there was another superhero in Central City,” the Flash said.

“I’m…uh…kinda new to the job. I only became the Green Lantern of Sector 2814 a couplea months ago, and I basically just got out of boot camp.” 

“The… Green Lantern?” the Flash echoed. 

“Yeah, a Green Lantern. A space cop. There’s one for every sector of space, and they’re run by these little blue guys who call themselves the Guardians of the Universe. Abin Sur was the last Green Lantern of this sector of the universe—2814—and since he died on Earth, he passed the ring on to me, ‘cause I ain’t afraid of much and I don’t pretend to be anything other’n what I am. Or somethin’ like that. I’m still half-convinced the stupid thing was busted when it chose me, but hey, what’re ya gonna do? Somebody has to do the job, and I did promise the guy I’d do it,” Len replied. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. What brought you to this apartment? I came running because I heard the shotgun blast, but you were obviously here before he pulled that out,” Flash asked. 

“I heard a scream comin’ from the buildin’, so I flew up to the window to see what was goin’ on. When I looked inside, I saw our pal over there knockin’ his wife around in front of his kid. The kid ran over to try an’ protect his mom, and I stopped the creep with an energy wall just before he could slap his son around too. He started givin’ me all the usual crap about how I should get out and mind my own business, and when I told him I wasn’t gonna just fly off and let him go back to beatin’ up women and little kids, he pulled the shotgun on me. Thanks for the save, by the way,” Len replied. The Flash looked horrified. 

“He was going to hit his own child?” Len nodded. 

“Hate to say it, but it happens all the time. My old man broke my arm when I was about that kid’s age,” he said. The Flash’s mouth dropped open. 

“My parents never hit me. I…I couldn’t even imagine.” Funny. Len could barely imagine what it was like to have parents who didn’t hit you.

“Not even when you acted up?” 

“No. Never.” 

“You’re lucky, then.” 

“Do you mind if I run this criminal to CCPD Headquarters? I can get him there faster than you probably can, but I can understand if you want to get the credit for stopping him. You did most of the work, after all,” the Flash asked. 

“I don’t mind. I figure if I keep up this space cop gig long enough, I’ll end up with more credit than I know what to do with. So go ahead and take him,” Len replied. The Flash disappeared, and then reappeared about a minute later. 

“Sorry it took so long. I had to tell the police what I’d arrested him for,” he explained. Then he turned to the woman. 

“Are you all right, miss? Is there anything I can do for you?” The woman responded by bursting into tears. 

“You’ve done enough! What are Andy and I supposed to do without Robert? He was the only one bringing in any money!” she cried. From the look on Flash’s face, it was clear that he hadn’t been expecting that reaction.

“Before you ask, that ain’t uncommon either. It’s part of why women like my mom don’t call the cops on the guys who beat ‘em up—-they ain’t got the education or the money to make ends meet as single moms,” Len said quietly. Instead, he pulled out his wallet, fished out some fifty dollar bills, and handed them to the woman. 

“Will this be enough to hold you over for awhile?” he asked. As much as he would miss his baseball tickets—and his beer—he’d be alright without the cash. And if he was going to do this whole hero thing, he might as well do it all the way. 

The woman looked up at him suspiciously. 

“What’s the catch? What do you want? I…I won’t testify against Robert. I…I can’t,” she said.

“No catch, lady. Just take care of yourself—and your kid.” The woman gave him a weak smile.

“Where do you work?” the woman asked. 

“At the big downtown ice rink. I keep the place in shape—and run the Zamboni,” he replied. 

“Then I’ll swing by once a week and bring you some of my fried chicken. Everyone says it’s the best in the neighborhood.”  Len grinned.

 “That’d be great. See you soon.” Len looked over to the Flash, who looked like he was going through his own pockets, and put his hand on his shoulder. 

“I know what you’re thinkin’, but don’t. If you give her money, it’ll embarrass her.” The Flash gave him a bit of a strange look. 

“You gave her money.” 

“I can get away with it. I’m a poor high school dropout too. She can repay me, one way or the other. But from you it’d be charity,” Len explained. The Flash nodded and stopped going through his pockets. 

“Miss, is there anything else you need?” he asked. 

“No. We’ll be fine. And—I’m sorry about yelling at you earlier. It’s just…I married Robert when I was seventeen, right after we both dropped out. He told me that he would take care of me, and that I didn’t need to work, and—and—I was just so scared of the thought of not having his support for Andy,” the woman said.

“I understand. You were worried about your son, and I definitely forgive you.” Then the Flash turned to Len. 

“If you’re okay with it, I can get the two of us back on the streets in a flash.” 

“Sure. Why not?” There was a rush of light not too different from the one Len saw when the ring teleported him, and then he and the Flash were standing outside of the apartment building. 

“You know, Green Lantern, while I don’t think that woman is any threat, I’m not sure if you should go around telling people where you work as a civilian. If that information starts circulating, criminals might get a hold of it and use it to go after you when you’re off the clock—or worse, to go after your loved ones.” Len shrugged. 

“I appreciate the concern, but seein as I ain’t married, I don’t got kids, my sister’s an ice skater who spends most of her time touring the country under a stage name, my mom’s been AWOL for years, and my old man’s on the Candy Man’s payroll, I don’t figure I’ve got too much to worry about. I can take care of myself pretty well, even without the fancy ring,” he said.  

“If Green Lantern rings are awarded on the basis of fearlessness, I can see how you earned one,” the Flash replied. 

“Don’t give me too much credit. Anybody’d be fearless after a childhood of bein’ smacked around by their father and a couple of years fightin’ off wannabe cell block kings in state prison. You survive that and there’s not much that’ll scare you anymore.” 

“Wait. You’ve been to prison?” the Flash asked. 

“Uh-huh. Did two years for robbin’ a drug store on Fifth and Main, thanks to a certain red blur,” Len replied. The Flash’s eyes widened. 

“That gang—the one with the glasses that let them intercept police radio bands! I thought those green glasses you’re wearing looked familiar!” he exclaimed. 

“You got a good memory.”

“Who are you?” Len snorted. 

“Weren’t you just goin’ on about how I shouldn’t be tellin’ people about myself?” 

“That was before I knew you were a criminal!” 

“I was a criminal—but I ain’t one now. I wasn’t lying when I said I worked at the ice rink. Or about the space cop thing, for that matter.” 

“You’ll forgive me if I’m a bit wary to trust someone I know I put behind bars, and who therefore has a good reason to hold a grudge against me.” Len sighed. Well, it wasn’t like he actually cared if anyone knew who the Green Lantern really was. 

“Name’s Len. Len Snart,” he said. 

“Leonard Snart, then. You’re twenty-five years old. Arrested six times, convicted four times. You spent three months in jail for getting caught with burglar’s tools when you were eighteen, eight months in jail for stealing a fairly cheap necklace, starting when you were nineteen, another eight months in jail for stealing a couple hundred dollars from a liquor store, starting when you were twenty-one, and then two years in prison for robbing a drug store, starting at twenty-two.” 

“And you’re either a cop, a lawyer, or a warden, because nobody else knows that much about the criminal record of some cheap thug,” Len replied. 

“How in the world did you get deputized as a police officer, in space or otherwise?” Len shrugged. 

“I have no idea. I told ‘em I was an ex-con—repeatedly, because I wasn’t originally too keen on the whole space cop idea—-but they said that since I’d served my time for the old crimes, and hadn’t committed any new ones, I could be a Green Lantern. And since I’d promised the dying Green Lantern who passed me the ring that I’d go straight and take up the job, well—I decided I had to do it. I have all the paperwork and everything if you wanna see it.” 

“So you aren’t going to try to put me six feet under for sending you to prison?” 

“Even if I was still a criminal,  I wouldn’t be tryin’ to put you six feet under for sending me to prison. No crook needs the kinda heat killin’ a cape brings down on you. It’d be like killin’ a cop—maybe even worse.” 

“A… cape?” 

“Yeah. That’s what crooks—-at least the low-level ones—call costumed heroes. Capes,” Len replied. 

“And you’re serious about turning over a new leaf?” 

“If you’d asked me if I’d ever say this a year ago, I’d have laughed in your face—but yeah. I’m turnin’ over a new leaf,” Len replied. The Flash grinned. 

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. It’s a nice change of pace to know a person I arrested is changing for the better instead of plotting ways to kill me.” 

“And you’re sure you don’t mind havin’ an ex-con runnin’ around playin’ super-hero in your city?” 

“It’s not my city. You live here, too. In my mind, that makes it our city—and if you really do want to help people, I’m certainly not about to stop you. Even a man as fast as I am can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Guess that makes us allies, then.” The Flash nodded. 

“It does—and, although I really hate to run off on you, I think I’d better get going. I have a date at 8:00 PM sharp, and my girlfriend will be furious if I’m late again.” 

“Then I hope you’ve got the money to buy her a nice gift, ‘cause it’s 8:25.” 

“It is?” 

“Almost 8:26. Do you not own a watch?” 

“Several, actually, but somehow it doesn’t seem to help.” Len shook his head. 

“Good luck with your girlfriend—-and hey, I guess I’ll be seein’ you around.” 

“Good-bye, Green Lantern, and stay safe. With any luck, I’ll be seeing you in the newspapers before too long,” the Flash said. Then he disappeared in, well, a flash. Len smiled. 

“Who woulda thought I’d ever work with the Flash?”

****************************************************************************

The Flash turned out to be right about the newspaper thing. Less than a week into his career as Green Lantern, Len stopped a crowded bus from crashing into a restaurant when its brakes went out, and suddenly his face was all over the newspapers—-and the TV channels, too. 

“Lenny, you’re famous!” Lisa exclaimed over the phone. She was in New York City with her ice skating company and had seen the reports about the rescue on the news. 

“I…uh…kinda noticed,” Len replied. 

“Everyone’s talking about Central City’s new superhero, even here in New York. And I swear, half of the people who skate for Futura want to know if I can get them your autograph,” Lisa said. 

“They ain’t the only ones. It’s getting a little overwhelming to go out in costume during the day, what with all the fans and all.” Lisa gave the Snart snort. 

“Welcome to the limelight.” 

“You got any tips for dealing with this sorta stuff?” 

“Of course. You’ve come to the right place, big brother.” 

****************************************************************************

After a year and a half of being the Green Lantern, Len fought one of the Flash’s supervillains for the first time. While Len fought crime in Central City whenever he was on Earth, since he was the Green Lantern of all of Sector 2814, he had to be off in space a lot to fight off alien invasions and to help stop crime and natural disasters on the other planets in his sector. Because of this, the costumed criminals—who had started showing up within a few months of his debut as Green Lantern—spent most of their time fighting the Flash. 

He was patrolling Morrow Street, waiting for the weekly drug-related shootout to start, when the window of a nearby grocery store suddenly warped and twisted, and a man carrying a pretty good-sized bag of loot, and wearing an orange-and-green costume, stepped out of it. As he looked at the guy—the Mirror Master, if he was remembering right—Len found himself revising his opinion of his Green Lantern uniform. He still thought the spandex looked stupid, but at least it wasn’t orange and green.

Len used his ring to create a giant green claw, and used it to grab the bag of loot from the Mirror Master, who let out a cry of surprise. 

“Green Lantern?” 

“That’s right. And from what the Flash has told me, you must be the Mirror Master.” The Mirror Master smirked. 

“The one and only.” Len tried to remember the supervillain’s civilian name, but couldn’t come up with anything. Whoever he was, though, he was very cocky—cockier than Len had ever been as a crook. 

“How long you been out of prison?” 

“A few weeks. State prison’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. So I arranged an early parole for myself. How long have you been back in Central City? Last I heard, you were in space,” the Mirror Master replied. 

“I got homesick, so after I stopped a flood on Agraria 7, I made my way back to Earth. I’ve been here for a couple days now,” Len said. 

“And you’re wasting your vacation on stopping me?” Mirror Master asked. 

“You surrender quietly, and that’ll open up a lot of free time for both of us,” Len replied. The Mirror Master laughed. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I don’t want the kind of free time I’ll end up with if I surrender,” he said. He pulled out a strange-looking prism, and, when Len fired a beam at it in the hopes of knocking it out of his hands, the prism didn’t just reflect the beam back—it split the beam into a rainbow of seven differently-colored light beams, all of which shot in Len’s direction. Len automatically threw up a shield, and realized a second too late that the yellow beam wouldn’t be blocked by the shield. This beam hit him square in the chest and sent him hurtling towards the ground. He managed to save himself from colliding with the ground by quickly creating a giant pile of green blankets, but the impact was still enough to knock the wind out of him—and to send the Mirror Master’s bag of loot flying out of his hands.

“My prism shield works even better against your Green Lantern beam than I predicted it would!” the Mirror Master exclaimed. As Len struggled to regain his breath and get back on his feet, Mirror Master pulled out another device, and suddenly there were dozens of Mirror Masters.

“As much as I’d love to stick around and engage you in a battle of light manipulation, I have places to go and jewelry to fence. So…catch me if you can!” All of the Mirror Masters started moving at once. Len blasted several to pieces, then realized that he was being stupid. If he wanted to catch the Mirror Master, all he had to do was command the ring to find the real one. 

“Mind findin’ the actual human in all those reflections?” he asked. A few seconds later, a green light appeared over one of the Mirror Masters. He was one of many who seemed to be carrying the bag of loot. He didn’t want to take any more chances with the prism shield, so instead, he grabbed the Mirror Master from behind with a giant green hand. The Mirror Master reached for what was probably another weapon he had hidden on his costume, but before he could get to it, Len ordered the ring to create a pair of green handcuffs around his wrists. Then, just to be on the safe side, he also ordered the ring to remove any hidden weapons from the costume. A few seconds later, an improbable number of mirrors, prisms, and ray guns were floating in the air, suspended in green bubbles. How in the world did the Mirror Master manage to fit that much stuff in such a skintight costume? 

Len then used the ring to lower the Mirror Master, his loot, and all of the confiscated weapons back to the ground. As soon as his feet touched the ground, the giant hand vanished, but the handcuffs remained, and the weapons continued to float in their green bubbles. 

“How’s that for light manipulation?” he asked as he started floating the weapons down to the ground. 

“Don’t break any of the mirrors! Don’t you know that’ll bring seven years’ bad luck?” the Mirror Master shrieked as one of the mirrors hit the ground. Len snorted. 

“It must really suck for somebody who fights using mirrors to be superstitious about breakin’ ‘em,” he said. The Mirror Master continued to struggle against the cuffs—and then, all of a sudden, his costume gave off such a bright light that even Len, with his goggles that were designed to filter out excess light, was nearly blinded. 

The costume was gimmicked—which meant that he needed to get it off of the Mirror Master before he got away. There was a flare of green light, and then Len could see again. Although since the first thing he saw was the Mirror Master wearing nothing but a gray undershirt, blue socks, and yellow polka-dotted underwear (seriously?), he wasn’t totally sure that was actually a good thing. 

“What did you do? Where’s my costume?” the Mirror Master screamed. 

“You were blinding me with it, so I told the ring to get it off of you. Believe me, I’m regretting it as much as you are. Who wears polka-dotted underwear?” 

“It was on sale!” As the initial shock of seeing the Mirror Master in nothing but his underclothes wore off, Len started to focus on the younger man’s features, which he could now see a lot more clearly. Perfectly styled brown hair, big brown eyes, ski-jump nose—-wait. He’d seen this face before, and not just on wanted posters. 

“And give me my costume back! You can’t drag me to CCPD Headquarters in my underclothes at two in the afternoon. I’d never be able to live that down.” 

“Sam? Sam Scudder?”

“Of course I’m Sam Scudder! It’s not like my identity’s a secret. Now give me my costume back!” 

The Mirror Master’s identity might not have been a secret, but it was news to Len. Apparently, while he’d been off in space, the pretty boy he’d had to save from getting shivved when they were in prison together had become a supervillain. 

“Do you remember a guy named Len Snart, by any chance?” he asked. Sam looked at him with obvious confusion. 

“Yeah, I remember him. He was in prison with me while I was serving my sentence for robbery, and he saved my life while he was there. If he ever shows up again, I owe him a favor—but why do you care about that?” 

  Len let the glasses vanish from his face. He was sure the Flash would probably blow a blood vessel in his brain if he saw him doing this, but hey—it wasn’t like his identity was a secret, either. 

“Because you’ve found him. It’s been a long time, Sam,” he said awkwardly. After a full thirty seconds of staring in open-mouthed shock, Sam finally found his voice. 

“The Green Lantern is an ex-con? An ex-con that I know?” 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“How did a convicted felon end up as part of the space police?” Sam asked. 

“I get asked that a lot. And I still have no idea,” Len replied. There was an awkward pause. 

“So, what’s it like working on the other side of the fence?”

“A lot more rewarding than I thought it’d be.” It was true. Even though he had promised to become a good guy, Len had initially assumed that it wouldn’t be very much fun. He had been wrong. Sure, there were still days—a lot of days, really—where he missed the rush of living by his wits, outwitting the cops, and taking whatever he felt like, but that rush paled in comparison to how good it felt to know that what he was doing was saving lives. To know that his sister could finally be proud of her big brother, and that his grandfather would be happy to see how he had turned out. 

“Rewarding?” Sam echoed. 

“Yeah. You probably won’t listen to me, because I wouldn’t have before I got a wake-up call in the form of a literal crashing spaceship, but—turnin’ over a new leaf and goin’ straight’s the best thing you can do for yourself—not to mention for everyone around you,” Len replied. A dark look spread across Sam’s face. 

“You want me to do what you did? Give up crime and become some sort of superhero?” he asked. 

“Why not? If I can do it, somebody with a brain like yours would have no problem.” Sam shook his head. 

“Because I know what being a superhero gets you in the end. It gets you killed.” 

“Is that a threat?” Len asked. 

“From me? No. Never. I owe you my life—and I’m not one for killing anyhow. It would take the glamor out of being the Mirror Master.” 

“Then why’d you say it?”

“As a warning.” 

“You got a funny way of warning people, Sam.”  The Mirror Master cocked his head and seemed to ponder something. 

“This isn’t working. So let’s try this. Since you’re determined to hear what I said as a threat, take it as a threat from the rest of the underworld. There are plenty of them who don’t have the standards that I have. If you keep interfering with them, eventually one of them will kill you. Growing up under the Candy Man’s thumb taught me that.” 

“I ain’t afraid of the Candy Man,” Len replied. 

“I know. You aren’t afraid of anything, if what I understand about the Green Lantern ring is true. But you should be. I don’t want to watch anyone else I know get killed playing hero.” 

“I’ll be careful. I always am. Now, let’s get you to CCPD before—” 

“Green Lantern! Green Lantern! How did you capture the Mirror Master?” 

“Before the paparazzi shows up,” Len muttered. As the cameras flashed, Sam’s cheeks went bright red, and he darted behind Len. The Mirror Master was still going to be on the front page of the newspaper in his underclothes tomorrow, but Len couldn’t really blame him for wanting to hide. 

“So, you know how I said I wasn’t going to kill you?” Sam hissed. 

“Yeah,” Len replied. 

“I meant it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make things very difficult for you if we ever fight again.” 

“Hey, don’t blame me for this. If you had surrendered quietly when I asked, this wouldn’t have happened.” Sam gave out a sad little whine. 

“I’m going to be the laughingstock of the underworld…” 

*****************************************************************************

Len had thought he had done a good job at keeping in touch with Lisa. Over the seven years he had been the Green Lantern, he’d visited her every time they were both in Central City, attended at least four of her shows every year, and talked to her on the phone at least once a month. 

“I don’t care if he’s your partner, Lenny! I want the Flash to suffer—the way I suffered when he killed my boyfriend!” 

Len was starting to get the feeling that he hadn’t done quite as good a job of keeping in touch as he had thought. 

“You have a boyfriend? You never mentioned him before.” 

“I couldn’t tell you, because I knew you wouldn’t approve.” Len sighed. 

“Lisa, I’m an ex-con. Who exactly were you dating that I would have had a leg to stand on in terms of disapprovin’ of him?” 

“Roscoe Dillon—but you probably know him better as the Top,” Lisa said. Len’s mouth dropped open. 

“As in the supervillain who died of a brain aneurysm a few weeks ago? That Top?” Lisa nodded. Well, that explained why Lisa had thought he would disapprove. Even aside from being a supervillain, the Top had been a stuck-up snob—one who was freakishly obsessed with tops. Of all the Flash’s supervillains, he was one of the last ones Len would have wanted his sister to date. 

“Yes. Flash’s vibrations induced Roscoe’s aneurysm the last time they fought. He killed my boyfriend—and I’m going to make him pay!” Lisa shrieked. 

“Lisa, it was an accident. You know it was an accident. Nobody could’ve ever guessed that—” 

“What I know is that my Roscoe is dead because of him!” 

“It was an accident! If I had killed somebody accidentally, would you want their girlfriend to kill me?” Len asked. Lisa’s eyes narrowed. 

“Lenny, I didn’t come here for you to talk me out of this. I’m here to warn you to stay out of my way,” she said. 

“I can’t do that, Lisa.” 

“What do you mean, you can’t do that?”

“The Flash is my friend, and he’s a good man. I understand you’re upset about your boyfriend, but—I can’t let you kill him because he accidentally caused a supervillain to die.” Lisa burst into tears.

“Lenny, you don’t understand! I need this! I need to make him pay! Revenge is all I have left, now that Roscoe’s dead and you’re gone all the time!” Len swallowed hard. 

“Lisa, please. If you attack the Flash, I’ll have to arrest you. I don’t want to have to do that. I don’t wanna send my little sister to prison,” Lisa’s eyes went wide with shock.

“You’d side with the Flash over your own sister?”

“If it means keepin’ my friend alive? And keepin’ you from becomin’ a murderer? I have to,” he replied. 

“You promised you would always protect me! Are you going to break that promise again?” The words twisted like a knife in Len’s gut. 

“I promised I would protect you, and I will. I’ll never leave you alone again. But that don’t mean I’ll stand by and let you kill an innocent man!” 

“So that’s how it is, is it? You’re going to choose your cop friend over me?” Lisa demanded. 

“No, Lisa. But I’m not gonna choose you over him either.” The look of icy hatred in Lisa’s eyes sent a shiver down Len’s spine. 

“You’re just like our father. So I’ll tell you what I told him the last time I saw him. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.” 

As Lisa turned on her heel and walked away, Sam’s voice echoed in Len’s mind. 

“Since you’re determined to hear what I said as a threat, take it as a threat from the rest of the underworld. There are plenty of them who don’t have the standards that I have. If you keep interfering with them, eventually one of them will kill you.” 

Len hadn’t been afraid of that prospect at the time. But back then, he had never thought that his sister would be one of the crooks trying to kill him.

He was more than scared now. He was terrified. 

******************************************************************************

Lisa was a Snart. When she attacked the Flash, Len had shown up to stop her—and she had kept her word. She tried to kill him, and, even though she hadn’t succeeded, she’d killed a part of him all the same when she’d forced him to fight against the little sister he’d only ever wanted to protect. 

It wasn’t quite enough to make him wish he’d never taken up the superhero gig, not with all the good he’d done, but it was still awful. His little sister was in prison, and she wanted him dead. How was he supposed to move on from that? 

Suddenly, one of the mirrors in his apartment warped and twisted, and the Mirror Master stepped out. 

“If you’ve changed your mind about killing me, go ahead. You’ll never have a better chance than now,” Len said weakly.

“I’m not going to kill you. You’re a pain in the neck, and your constant attempts to get me to reform and put myself in the line of fire are really getting old—but I still owe you my life. And for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry about what happened with your sister. You didn’t deserve that,” Sam said. 

“Why’re you here, Sam?” 

“I’m here to tell you that I’m going to try to keep an eye on your sister and make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble–either while she’s in prison or when she escapes. Because you know she’s going to. She’s a Snart, just like you.” 

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. She tried to kill me when I got in her way, and I’m her brother. I don’t think she’d even pause before killin’ you.”

  “Who said anything about getting in her way? I’m no hero, and I’m not about to try to stop her. I’m just going to tip you off if she needs help—or, more likely, if she’s coming after you and you need to be on guard,” Sam replied. 

“Well—thanks, then. But this don’t mean I’m gonna just let you go the next time I catch you stealin’ somethin’,” Len said. Sam laughed.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Without you and the Flash, life would be far too easy—which is why I’m not actually here.” Sam suddenly shattered into a million pieces on Len’s floor. Len swore. 

Another mirror duplicate. 

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and Len went over and opened it. The Flash was standing on the other side, holding a gallon of Len’s favorite chocolate crunch ice cream. 

“I…I understand if you don’t want company right now, but I wanted to check in on you just in case you did. And bring you that ice cream you like,” he said. 

“Come on in. I could probably use the company—and I could definitely use your speed to help me clean up the mess my last guest left me with,” Len replied. The Flash glanced over to the pile of glass that had been the Mirror Master duplicate. 

“I take it the Mirror Master dropped by?” he asked.

“The guy can make holographic images that vanish without leavin’ a trace. Why does he always insist on sendin’ mirror duplicates that break into pieces when he wants to talk to me without gettin’ caught?” Len replied. The Flash promptly zipped over to the pile of glass, and after only a few seconds, all the glass was stored in some plastic bags and the bags were in Len’s trash can. 

“Thanks.” 

“It was nothing. Where should I put the ice cream?”

“The mini fridge is—” There was a red blur, and Len just barely saw the fridge door open and close. 

“You ever thought about hirin’ yourself out as a pizza delivery guy? You’d make a mint.” 

“If I ever lose my job as a police scientist, I’ll keep that in mind,” the Flash replied. Then he actually pulled off his mask, to reveal a blonde man with bright blue eyes. He was a lot better-looking than Len had ever been, and if he hadn’t known how desperate the Flash was to keep his identity a secret, he would’ve wondered why the guy even bothered to wear the mask. 

“My name’s Barry Allen, and I work for the CCPD’s forensics lab.” 

“You’re giving up your secret identity? Why now?” Len asked.

“Because you just risked your life to protect me from your own sister. If that wasn’t enough to earn my complete trust, I don’t know what else would be.” Len was suddenly struck by a horrible revelation. 

“Wait a minute. If you’re Barry Allen, then when Lisa was goin’ after Iris West-Allen, she was goin’ after your wife,” Len said. Barry nodded. 

“I’m afraid so. Len—I’m so sorry.” 

“You’re sorry? What are you sorry for? I’m the one who should be apologizin’! My sister was tryin’ to murder you and your missus!” 

“She tried to kill you, too. I know how much you love your sister—-and I can’t even imagine what it would be like to have my own sister try to kill me,” Barry replied. 

And suddenly the dam broke, and Len found himself crying for the first time in decades. 

When the tears finally ran out, he looked up at Barry wearily. 

“The funny thing is, the worst part wasn’t her tryin’ to kill me. It was when she looked me in the eye and told me that I was just like our old man. You…you know what he was like. That’s how much my sister hates me,” he said.

“You know, Len, if you wanted to stop operating as a superhero in Central City, I wouldn’t blame you. I can’t ask you to risk getting killed by your own sister.” For a second, Len seriously considered it. 

But then he thought about the people he’d saved, and the friends he’d made, and decided against it. As much as he loved his sister, and as much as he hated the idea of having to fight her again, he couldn’t leave Central City in the lurch. 

“You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easily. Central City’s my home as much as it is yours, and I ain’t gonna abandon it just ‘cause things got tough for me.” 

**************************************************************************

Len had been Green Lantern for ten years when the Flash—Barry Allen— died saving the universe. 

The mantle didn’t sit vacant long. Barry Allen’s sidekick, Wally West, took up the job. He was still just a kid—barely twenty—and, though he’d had a good amount of experience as Kid Flash, that wasn’t quite the same thing as being the Flash in his own right. 

Which was why Len had to spend a lot of time giving the kid pointers—pointers which he more often than not ignored, and then fell flat on his face. 

If a thuggish ex-con like him had managed to become the Green Lantern, he had no doubt that the kid would be able to make his mentor proud one day—but sometimes that day seemed really far off. 

After an exhausting few hours of trying to referee a fight that had broken out between the kid and his current girlfriend, a police officer named Julie Jackam, Len was sitting at home and eating his chocolate crunch ice cream when there was a knock on his door. He took the ice cream with him as he opened the door–and nearly dropped it when he saw his sister on the other side. 

“Hi, Lenny. It’s been a long time,” she said. She looked older and wearier than he remembered her looking, but since she had spent the last three years in and out of prison and on increasingly-crazy revenge attempts, that probably wasn’t too surprising. He knew from personal experience—-a decade ago or not, some memories stuck with you—how exhausting being a crook could be. 

“Lisa?” he asked.

“I think this is the part where you close the door in my face. I tried to kill you, Lenny.” 

“Why are you here, sis?” Len asked. Lisa sighed. 

“I’ve spent the past three years trying to make the Flash suffer for hurting me. And now he’s dead, and I’ve got nothing to show for it. I’ve thrown away my skating career and my clean record, and I’ve burned every bridge I ever had—-and Roscoe’s still dead. I…I don’t know where to go from here, and, well—you’re the only person I know who might be able to tell me what to do next. Not that I expect you to after I tried to kill you,” she said. Len gave her a small smile. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to trust Lisa the way that he once had—it was really hard to go back to baseline after someone tried to kill you—but Lisa was still his little sister, and he was very glad to have her back. 

“Lisa, I promised I’d always look after you. And I’m gonna keep that promise.” 

“You shouldn’t. Lenny—I was horrible to you.” 

“Can’t argue with that. But I ain’t got a lot of room to throw stones when it comes to bein’ a criminal,” Len replied. 

“You never did anything like what I did.” 

“I never had someone I love die like you did, either. If you’d died while I was still a crook, I hate to think what I might’ve done.”

“This was a bad idea. I should go.” Lisa turned to leave, and Len used his ring to make a green stop sign appear in front of her.

“We’ve already lost each other twice, sis. Once because I made a bad call, and once because you did. I don’t want us to lose each other again,” he said. Lisa spun back around. 

“You can’t save everybody, Lenny.”

“I know. But I’d be a pretty lousy superhero if I didn’t try to save my own sister. Want some ice cream?” Lisa gave him a small smile. 

“Is it chocolate chunk?” 

“It’s always chocolate chunk.” 

The two of them were sitting together on Len’s couch, eating the last of the ice cream, when Wally suddenly came flying into the room through the door Len had forgotten to close. And for some reason, he was in nothing but his boxers. 

“How did Uncle Barry do this?” he asked. 

“Is that the new Flash? He’s kind of cute,” Lisa said.  Wally’s face went as red as his hair. 

“Who’s she?” he asked. 

“I’m Green Lantern’s crazy sister. My name’s Lisa Snart, but you probably know me as the Golden Glider,” Lisa said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Wow. You’re even more gorgeous up close,” Wally said. Len groaned. The last thing he needed was for Wally to decide to strike up a romance with his sister. That would only end horribly for both of them—not to mention Julie Jackam. 

“Kid, focus! Why the heck are you runnin’ around in your boxers and nothin’ else?” Wally sighed. 

“It’s Dr. Alchemy! He’s back!” “Which one? Dr. Albert Desmond and Mr. Element, or the creepy gremlin?” 

“The gremlin. He transmuted my costume into oxygen in front of everybody, and now  the whole city thinks I’m a total idiot!” 

“In that case, kid, maybe you should—” 

And Wally was gone. 

“This must be some sort of cosmic payback for the headaches I used to give Kilowog,” Len muttered. 

Still, he wasn’t surprised when Wally found a way to triumph over Dr. Alchemy a few hours later. 

“Kid’s got the makings of a great hero in him. He just needs to slow down and learn how to control that temper of his.” Lisa smiled. 

“Well, if anyone would know what it takes to make a great hero, it would be you, Lenny.”

[hooked-on-elvis]

Want to read yet another story of Elvis being generous?

How Elvis' friendship with Tom Jones gathered the King with The VOICE

[1] Elvis wearing the 1973 Arabian jumpsuit. Hilton Hotel, Las Vegas. August, 1973. [2] Donny Sumner, letf, Shaun "Sherrill" Nielsen* and Tim Beaty of the Voice, a pop-rock-gospel trio, warm up before their performance at The Villa at 1711 Hayes St. in Nashville on March 1, 1975. They are still recovering from injuries causes by when their van veered off the highway and rolled down an embankment a month before.

LATE JULY - EARLY AUGUST, 1973 Elvis was in Vegas to rehearse for his second 1973 Las Vegas engagement (Las Vegas, Season 9 - From August 6th to September 3rd 1973) While in Las Vegas Elvis had the opportunity to help out his friend Tom Jones, who was facing the possibility of having to replace his vocal group the Blossoms on his current show. When Elvis heard about his predicament, he thought he might do Jones a favor by presenting him with a substitute group. One of the members of his entourage, Kenny Hicks, knew that former Statesmen Sherrill Nielsen and Tim Baty and J. D. Summer’s nephew Donnie had formed a new Nashville vocal group called Voice. Elvis knew all of them well; he had worked with Sherrill in 1966 on How Great Thou Art, and once introduced him to an indifferent Las Vegas audience as “the greatest tenor in gospel music.” Why not fly their new group out to Las Vegas to help Jones out?

#FYI

On the picture above, Elvis is leaving the Anaheim Royal Inn to perform his evening concert on April 24 1973 at the Convention Center in Anaheim, CA (8.30 pm). EP is with his entourage, some of them known Memphis Mafia guys, and his father, Vernon Presley. Kenny Hicks is the one guy on the left, next to Red West. There's not many pictures of them together. Kenny worked as a valet/aide to Elvis, between 1973-1975. In 2010, Hicks published the memoir book, "Elvis, As I Knew Him" (photo 2, book front cover). Kenny is told to be the one letting Elvis know about the Voice group has been formed.

Transported by private jet, the nervous trio arrived at Elvis’s suite, only to be put on the spot to sing for Elvis, Tom Jones, and country singer Bobbie Gentry. Jones was impressed with the group, and he was touched by the offer — but as it turned out, he told Elvis, he had an unbreakable contract with the Blossoms. It may have been the opening Elvis was looking for all along: After giving the group the bad news, with a flourish he produced a piece of paper for them to sign — a year-long contract, he explained, guaranteeing them $100,000 to serve as his backup group and sing with him in private whenever he felt like hearing them, while signing them to his new publishing company. They couldn’t help being shocked, but they gratefully accepted. Before the group left the suite Elvis called his father to announce the news; Vernon, though, was less than enthusiastic to learn of his son’s latest whim, which only supported his constant fear that his son’s indulgences would someday leave them all bankrupt. Excerpt: "Elvis Presley: A Life in Music" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

Cool, isn't it? EP didn't need to do this, he was in no need for another gospel group (he already had signed The Stamps Quartet to back him in concert for a while now - since 1971), but he signed the Voice, aside from admiring their talent, clearly just to make up for something that went not quite as expected — something he was actually doing to help another one of his friends.

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

FURTHER INFO

"Sherrill" is Shaun Nielsen's birth name, and it is the name all Elvis fans best know him with, but he changed it to "Shaun" at some point. He said that after enough instances of hearing himself paged 'Phone call for Miss Sherrill Nielsen', he thought changing his name would be a good idea. (Source: elvisoncd.com). Sherrill is a gender-neutral name but, since is not very common for a male, people currently take it as a female name right away.

[milesquaritchlover]

The hunt PT: 1

So this is actually my first ever story so I’m not sure how good it is and I am unsure of it tbh. Hope you like it and sorry if I’ve disappointed you.

Warnings: fluff, suggestive tones, cliff hanger (sorry not sorry)

Summary: You and Miles have been in a relationship for about a year now, you’ve both grown rather comfortable with each other and don’t worry if what your going to ask or say might be a little crude ( Miles certainly didn’t have much of a filter after the first few months of dating ). But recently you’ve both been too busy and haven’t spent much time together, but that’s going to change.

Miles and Y/N have both been called to General Ardmore’s office, they haven’t got a clue what for, they can’t help but worry that it might be about their relationship.

“Take a seat you two” Ardmores tone of voice gave nothing away. “Why have you called us here General?” Your voice slightly trembled as you spoke. “As you know I intended to send a group of people out to the base located just outside of the eastern sea line, you two where apart of that group”. Her voice remained as it was and caused a deep unsettling feeling in your stomach. “Unfortunately that’s not going to be possible, we don’t have the resources to feed all of you whilst your their and most of our convoy’s have either been attacked and raided or didn’t make the trek, but there is enough to keep four people fed with that being said I have decided to send you two alone”. Ardmore told them keeping her eyes trained on them both.

Wait what? Did she actually just say that? Are you and Miles actually about to be in a RDA base all on your own with no one to interrupt you or keep you away from each other! You couldn’t wait but you also questioned why you two where the ones going. “Why are ya sending us general?” Miles decided to ask curious as to why he and his partner are going alone. “Didn’t cha say we had enough food there for four people?” He added. “Yes I did say that, but I fear that you wouldn’t get along with the guy I intended to send with you so I cut him out of the picture” she said causing you to be confused. “I chose you two because I know you get along (well no shit) and Y/N is the best in the science field and works best alone, and you were always going to be going because your the best line of security they would have there.” Ardmore said with a slight smile that disappeared soon after.

“With that being said, I want you both on your best behaviour. I know what you two being alone will cause. And I will be checking up on you and randomly calling to make sure your behaving so keep that in mind” She looked at them with a knowing smirk but her voice was stern. You blushed at the thought that Ardmore knew what you two would be up to. “How long will we be there for?” Miles asks brushing off what Ardmore said. “You’ll be gone for 6-7 months the time might be extended though” Ardmore was back to be usual stern face. “When are we leaving?” You finally decided to speak. “Tomorrow”, Ardmore looked back down to her paperwork “you best get packing, your dismissed”.

You and Miles left Ardmore’s office and walked back to your room to pack. “So an entire 7 months alone together, far away from everyone, that’s gunna be fun”. You smirk. Miles chuckled, “don’t cha get any ideas love, we do have to behave if ya remember”. “ I know, I know, but….. we do have free time and with no one to bother us we could always do something together, we haven’t even had a proper meal together in months now Miles and I just wanna spend more time with you”. You pout up at him making Miles chuckle and pull you into his waist, “I’m sure we can make that happen love”. He smiles down at you. “Now keep packing we’ve got to be up and ready early tomorrow and I am not waiting for you.” He shoves you playfully making you giggle and continue packing.

The next day you and Miles are transported to the base, after unpacking and getting the electrical side of things sorted you both decide to head to bed early.

The next morning you wake up to find that Miles had already left. You got dresses and headed to the kitchen when you smelled cooked eggs and bacon. Walking in you saw Miles cooking breakfast, “morning Miles”. Miles turned to you and smiled “Mornin’ love, how’d you sleep?” You sat down at the table after getting a cup of coffee “like a baby”. “Good” Miles put some eggs and bacon onto a plate and handed it to you “thank you baby, you can be so cute sometimes” you said with a teasing smirk.

Miles laughs “me? I’m many things, but cute ain’t one of em. I prefer to be considered charming and charming only. never cute!” He said jokingly.

“Well I’m considering you cute and nothing you say or do will change my mind” Miles laughed at this but surrendered.

“Fine, fine…just for you cutie.” He chuckles “but if that’s the way you want to play then don’t be surprised if I start treating you like an actual cutie, and that means calling out your cute habits in public.”

You gasp “you wouldn’t dare!.”

“Oh but you better be nice to me, honey, or else I will. A deals a deal.” He gives you a gentle kiss on the forehead “do you want me to put you in a baby bonnet?”

“Hay! I know I’m small but I can’t help that im a human and your a freaking recom navi!” You started to blush with embarrassment.

“But your a cute and tiny human and I’m the recom that makes you smile right? I just want to keep that gorgeous smile on your face, the best way to do that is to treat you the way you deserve to be treated, my princess.” He smiles at you.

“Hmm. Cute, but don’t think your getting any cuddles tonight.” You turn away from him trying to make it seem like your mad at him.

Miles raises and eyebrow at that. “Oh, but I can make you change your mind, you know.” Miles leans forward his breath tickles. Your cheek as his voice drops to a growl “I know what all the buttons are on this little princess now, and I’m not afraid to push them” you feel his large arms wrap around you, like it or not.

“We’ll I will not reciprocate your cuddles, you will not break me!” You state playfully with a small smirk.

Miles smiles and presses you closer to him “oh, so you want to make this a challenge then? It would be much easier if you’d just give in, love, don’t you think?”

“Nuh! Uh!” You say stubbornly sounding like a child. Miles laughs and moves a little closer “oh come on. Can’t you be just a little cute? I know you want it, you know you want it, but your just so stubborn to admit it. He stops, leaning even closer now, his voice low and teasing. “can’t you be a good girl and let me give you some lovin”

“No! Don’t like you anymore” you say jokingly but Miles misses that.

“What?” He suddenly stops holding you and leans back, looking at you. “Excuse me, what did you say?”you look back at him confused “uh? What?”

He chuckles “ ‘don’t like you anymore’ did you say that? Oh, you must be joking right?”

“Yeah I was joking, please don’t tell me you thought I was being truthful!? I would never say that Miles! I’m sorry!” You look to the ground feeling like you’ve just disappointed Miles and yourself.

Miles leans forward and puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Of course I knew you were joking, I just wanted to hear it from your own lips. Don’t be so worried I love it when you try to tease me, you’re just terrible at it.” He chuckled a little and gave you a peck on the cheek. “That’s my girl, now why don’t we go back to bed a cuddle for a while, no one here’s gunna miss us.” He smiles cheekily.

You take him by the hand leading him back to your room, over to the large recom sized bed, make him lay down and climb on top of him to cuddle. Your whole body was on top of his torso with your legs by his hips and your head tucked under his chin.

Miles chuckles at the position but cuddles back into you, hugging your waist with one hand and the other stroking your hair. “ you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” You can’t help but smile against his skin.

He kisses you on the forehead and smiles. When he sees you snuggle into him he lets out a satisfied sigh and slowly falls asleep with a small smile on his face. You fall asleep a while later. When you wake up you feel something warm on your face.

*oh looks like Miles is drooling on me again, how did we even get into this position?*

“Miles love wake up” you shake him slightly “your drooling all over me” you giggle. One of his eyes opens and he looks at you. “Mornin’ sweetie.” He notices the drool and chuckles. “Sorry didn’t know I was like that.” He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, then reaches his arm over you and pulls you in, hugging you.

“As much as I’m loving this I really need to take a shower your drool is extremely sticky” you mumble into his chest. “Oh really ya don’t say?” His voice sarcastic and his face full of amusement.

“Thought you’d be used to the sticky feeling of it by now though.” He looked up at the ceiling a smirk on his lips. That made you gasp and hit him on the chest. “Miles I can’t believe you just said that.”

You get up and go to shower, listening to Miles walking about cleaning up the bed. After you finish in the shower having washed your hair and body thoroughly you get out and get dressed heading to the kitchen to make some lunch. Miles walks into the shower after you

“Miles don’t be too long in the shower I’m making lunch.” While your talking to him you’re reaching up to get the ingredients for the sandwiches and knock over a bowl of soup, spilling it all over you from head to toe. You screamed slightly loud enough for Miles to hear but not enough for him to think your in danger.

“You ok?” You hear his muffled voice through the door. “Yeah, but uhh your gunna need to save me some hot water too please and I mean it I know what your like Miles!” This made him chuckle but he also wanted to know what you had done.

“You do? Then tell me what am I like love?” He chuckles “and don’t worry, as soon as I’m out you’ll get all the hot water you want”.

“You know what I mean!” You shout back.

His voice echoes through the door “oh? You mean you were thinking of my shower activities, were you?” His tone teasing and playful.

“Oh! My! God! Miles! Fine no more kisses for you!” You shout back.

You hear the shower shut off and Miles walks out with a towel around his waist, water dripping out of his hair and down to his chest. “no more kisses? Your being too cruel sweet’art, I’ll have to punish you now” he smirks.

“W-what do you mean by that?” You ask suspiciously, slowly trying to back away.

He moves towards you “oh I don’t know… maybe I could start with this!” He Grabs you and pulls you towards him, kissing you passionately.

You pull away from the kiss breathing heavily “miles I’m covered in soup, I need to shower.” Miles chuckles and walks you towards the sofa, he pins you down and starts kissing you again, caressing your body. “Will that help, or will we need to take it a step further?” His breath is warm and his lips are soft, but his eyes are dark and burning with desire. While he had you underneath him, his large frame devouring your smaller one.

You hum and smile “miles, you seem to have forgotten something”

[dandelion-wings]

A very, very brief snippet this evening, spawning from @theabysscomeshome and I taking a couple fun screenshots:

and immediately spinning an AU off it, as we do.

---

"Why did you leave your post to bring her here? A yokai with a Vision is useful, but not that useful. Not on her own."

"I'm sorry, Moth- Father," Lyudochka says. She's of the previous generation, the agents whom Mother actually graduated and sent out, before she conceived of her battle royale. "Once I realized that Guuji Yae had seen through my cover, I knew I couldn't stay in place and risk being interrogated. Since I would already have to flee, it seemed wise to secure a resource for the House in the process, so that my assignment wasn't entirely in vain."

She looks terrified. It's the sort of fear that Arlecchino doesn't have the warmth or kindness to soothe with comforting gestures or words. All of the older generation are like this, except the ones ruthless enough to become teachers as they aged. The only way Arlecchino can correct their thinking is to demonstrate her own priorities--that preserving an agent's life for future use is better than dying uselessly at their post, when their death would serve no good purpose--through her actions and commands.

"The House of the Hearth will never turn away a child," she says, and waves a hand to dismiss Lyudochka. The girl flees. All the children who grew up under Mother are fearful, but Efim's students especially so; she'll have to look more closely into his methods.

Right now, though, she has other priorities. The girl was still unconscious from her wounds when Lyudochka smuggled her out of Inazuma, and Lyudochka had drugged her for the duration of her transport here, as is protocol for potentially combative foreign recruits. According to the doctors' report, she woke up lucid for the first time this morning. They've already told her that it was the House that rescued her from where she lie wounded, and found that her memories immediately after the fall were incoherent enough that she seems willing to believe that claim.

A child who feels abandoned by fate will take any home offered to them, whether or not it's truly a kind one. Arlecchino heads to the infirmary.

The child is, indeed, awake when she arrives, clear-eyed and appropriately tense. Arlecchino has replaced Dottore's minions with children who are most suited to this work, and their own faith in the House helps them keep new children like this one from panicking. Healthy caution, though, is an excellent trait, and Arlecchino is glad that this one wasn't so easily lulled out of it.

"Welcome to the House of the Hearth," she tells the child, looking her over. The wings would be useful on their own; pair them with a Vision, and she already has significant potential, though it will take time to discover all her strengths. "What should we call you?"

The girl raises her chin high, boldly meeting Arlecchino's eyes. "My name is Sara. What is yours?"

"I am The Knave, Arlecchino, Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers. But I do hope that you will come to call me 'Father.'"

[prydainroyals]

Dear Alice: Part 3

(Continued from here.)

---

"There's also Commander Murray, who likes it when we call him 'James' while not on duty. I'm almost certain the man is as tall as a tree. He's a brilliant fitness coach. Bit of a hardass, but he still manages to make it fun. He just won't let you be miserable unless you really need to take a break."

"And he's basically the base's Mum? He fusses over us and I'd wager he volunteers to be a sort of Morale Officer when he's stationed here. He loves organising group activities, which drives me bonkers sometimes, but at the end of the day, I'm really grateful. We have a spare storage room in the bunker part of the base he turned into a makeshift cinema, with a big sheet, a projector, fairy lights and everything."

"He's given me advice on things too. Not just about the Navy, but about life in general. I worry about being out of touch with actual, real people... but he's about as real as they come. Kind as he is, the Commander won't sugarcoat things. He'll tell you off if you need telling off, and he actually listens to you. As in, YOU, not... your position or titles or whatever, though he takes stock of those too. I dunno how he does it. I wonder who he talks to when he needs someone to listen? Maybe he gets something out of talking to all of us. It's not my business, I know, but I can't help but marvel at what sort of person has the strength to keep on giving like that. He and Harry are a lot alike in that regard."

"I imagine they're the sort of people who lean on each other. I'd hate to think they do so much for everyone while they go it alone."

"...and aaaaall across the field, speckled like diamonds, Harry... Oh, you would never believe it, lad..."

"What? What was it? You have me in suspense!"

"Toilets. Toilets everywhere."

Harry snorted and laughed in that good-mannered but knowing way of his. That way that said he knew someone was full of it, but he wasn't actually offended.

"Oh come off it!" he smiled. "There's no possible way you could have unbolted fifty toilets, transported them to the pitch, and strewn them all over without being caught," he pointed out.

"Certainly not without flooding the school in the process," Harry added.

"Of course not! We were keen enough to pay off the custodial staff with the money we'd pooled together. You have to remember: Mother Superior Florence was a terrible woman. It was a group effort. The younger Sisters stood by us, even."

Harry snorted again at such a fantastical story, and James sat back, his expression glowing with pride at a well-spun yarn.

"Alright, fine, enough with my silly stories," James relented, eyes still twinkling. "Tell me how you're getting on with Henry. How's he been?"

Harry's look of amused incredulity softened, his smile grew until it crinkled at the corners of his deep, dark eyes. He adored and missed his fiance, but wasn't always sure when it was the right time to talk about him.

"O-oh! He's well, thank you for asking," Harry bashfully answered. "We're well, actually. It can be difficult, having a relationship long-distance like this, but... we're managing, I think," he explained.

"I won't be up here forever, and much as I love assisting with the research and medical needs of this outpost... I do want to go home."

James gave a serious nod in response. "I know how hard it can be, trying to maintain a relationship across a tundra and at least one ocean. If you ever need to talk about anything, Harry, you can come to me about it. Alright?"

Harry's eyes looked so tired, but so grateful.

"Of course. And... and you can talk to me, James. I know you must miss Ethan terribly."

James blinked in surprise at the mention of his late husband, having honestly forgotten he'd confided in Harry about the anniversary of Ethan's death over a year ago. His posture slumped a little in resigned defeat, but his own smile softened, his bravado melting away to express gratitude of his own.

"... yeah. Yeah, every day. I'll be keeping that in mind. Thank you, Harry."

---

—

Interlude continued.

Happy Pride Month. <3

Fun fact: Commander Murray is a distant cousin of Arthur's, through Arthur's mother's family.

- - -

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[the-masked-reviewer]

Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief Comparison

Book v. Show

What Changed

There are jokes in the book that are completely left out and never even alluded too. The episode named “We take a Zebra to Vegas”, shows you multiple animals that the smugglers are transporting, none of them being a Zebra. They kept the book’s corresponding chapter name but not the actual Zebra.

The show’s focus is more on Percy and Annabeth and their relationship, but in order to accomplish that, they pushed Grover into a more side character position making it far harder to see Percy and Grover’s relationship as the platonic soulmates they are.

The books show Gabe’s behavior in fairly subtle ways, mostly through Percy’s internal dialogue and not through direct scenes with Gabe. I think the show actually did a pretty good job at showing just how bad of a person Gabe is, though they did leave out a few scenes that would’ve helped. I don’t think changing the way Gabe turns to stone really does anything other than take away Sally’s revenge and make a dumbass die by cause of being a dumbass.

Celestial Bronze is explained early on in the book at the same time most of the basic general knowledge of demigod life is explained to Percy and the reader. However in the show, they don’t even tell you this is a material that exists until the fifth out of eight episodes, taking away both Percy’s growing knowledge of his new world and the importance of the material.

In the books, Percy describes when he meets Hades like, “He was the third god I’d met, but he was the first that really struck me as godlike” (pg. 309) but the show introduces him as a weird fruity twink. It just takes away all the power the man is supposed to hold. He is literally the King of The Underworld and he is shown as a guy I don’t think anyone could ever reasonably be afraid of Even when Percy describes Dionysus, the first god he meets, “He turned to look at me straight on, and I saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man was only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turned to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I knew that if I pushed him Mr. D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a straitjacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life” (pg. 70-71). It’s clear that these beings have an aura and could never not have a large powerful presence. But here Hades, the King of The Underworld, is just a guy. Comparing the two descriptions from the book makes it so clear how powerful Hades is supposed to be if compared to the visions of death and people turning into dolphins doesn’t register as godlike.

The show never once tells the audience what Tartarus is, not even after Percy and Grover are nearly dragged into it by Luke’s flying shoes. There was never any real foreshadowing for Luke or parallel to him a Percy until later in the season where you get flashbacks to Luke and Percy training. At that point it feels more like an afterthought to add in the evidence that it’s been Luke the whole time.

The show lets the audience witness scenes we’ve never gotten the chance to see before, and I can’t understate enough how much I love that. Getting to see Grover and Ares both attempt psychological warfare on each other in a dinner is peak Percy Jackson. However, the way the show is written takes away the audiences ability to truly see just how smart Percy is.

One of the changes I actually ended up liking far more than I thought I would initially was the change in the number of pearls the gang is given. By being given four pearls it shows that Poseidon not only cares for Percy and is watching him as he goes through life, but that he also truly cares for Sally.

The flashbacks are some of my favorite scenes. They’re written so well, and are great at taking advantage of the visual story telling techniques you have when you make a television show.

Not wanting your show to have a very exposition heavy introduction is understandable, but the show’s way of working around this problem is to put information right before or during the thing that’s being explained is happening results in a very exposition heavy, slow show where your characters, in this case Percy, are completely clueless at worst. For example, the gang not only knows but has a plan for facing Procrustes. The audience does not get to see the gang making this plan, just them executing it, having Percy explain to Procrustes (and the invisible audience) who he is and why he’s bad. This isn’t the only example of explaining things for the audience, like when they go over the entirety of Hephaestus’ story and his relationship with Aphrodite when clearly both characters in the scene know the story. The information these 12 year olds (Grover is technically 24 yes, but in human years he is also 12) is just inconsistent. They know who Medusa, the fates, Hephaestus all are, and yeah I’d honestly kind of hope they would. But they also know Crusty’s whole story, and details about how monsters hunt and generally act? Echidna literally spelled out who she was before the gang was able to figure it out (they then seem to understand perfectly how the Chimera hunts while simultaneously not knowing what kind of monster it is). Yet they seem to not only know but be intimately familiar with Crusty’s entire mythos.

When the gang is traveling with the animal smugglers, the book audience learns these guy are not good people from the description Percy gives of the inside of the truck and how the animals are treated, whereas the show has Grover tell Annabeth and Percy “the men driving this truck are not nice people” (Episode 5, 4:35). This would’ve been such an easy moment to take advantage of the media they are using and tell us this visually in the same way the book did.

The fact that the gang knows what kind of situation they are walking into practically every time does more than just take away the surprise. It takes away the viewers ability to try and predict what’s happening because it has already been explained. And what’s worse is it takes the tension away from the story. Without impending unknown doom, and always having a plan may paint your characters, primarily Annabeth because she is the one who always knows and makes plans, as smart and prepared but it also takes away most of the stakes and point of the story.

A lot of the story stayed mostly the same, and details and deliveries changed the most. But two of the changes that bothered me the most were the lack of explaining what Riptide even is and its importance, which for a show that likes to explain everything is awfully surprising, and how they decided to turn Gabe to stone.

Why Change it/Care

Dialogue is an important thing in storytelling, obviously. But there are some things that work better when shown. You don’t need to explain out loud all of the “you’re ___”s and “This is how your story goes.” In order to tell an interesting story you have to get a balance of dialogue and showing the story in order for it to be interesting. You have to trust the audience to figure out what isn’t explained.

The Thrill Ride O’ Love scene is one of the best examples of being to reliant on dialogue. Instead of letting the beautiful animation play out and leave the viewers using their brains to figure out what’s happening (which isn’t very hard, the animation is done wonderfully and tells the story of Hephaestus brilliantly) they have Percy telling the story over the animation (and “what is love” which is a crime of its own) and narrate the story. This is especially annoying because the only other person witnessing this (aside from invisible audience) is Annabeth, who’s been the one in the gang who knows and explains everything. I already don’t like how they’ve been using the “Athena’s kid” and “six steps ahead” things as Practically all of Annabeth’s character traits, but in this instance it’s only the two of them and Percy is telling the story. Who is he supposed to be explaining this too other than the viewer, Annabeth clearly knows the story too.

The flashbacks are so well written that while rewatching they kept tricking me into thinking the show wasn’t over explaining what was going on and was instead letting the story do all the heavy lifting. Then of course it would cut back to the current story and I’d be reminded that the flashbacks were in fact the exceptions and not the rule in this shows case.

The heavy exposition, read just straight up telling the viewer what’s going on, was used mostly in the side adventures and for world building things to do what feels like an attempt at saving time. While exposition is usually used for basic world building things, it wouldn’t have taken any more time to have so many of those things be shown visually. There are places where it may have added time but the show’s episode lengths are inconsistent and range from having content in anywhere from roughly 27-40 minutes depending on the episode, so even if there was a time increase from doing things visually there’s space to shuffle things around and make consistent episode full of visual story telling.

In the notes I took for this project I only used the word “explains” nine times to cover the entirety of the book. In the first three episodes of notes alone I used “explains” 14 times. Meaning, in less than half of the show something is explained 1.5 times more than the complete book.

Sometimes you just have to trust the audience to understand what is happening in the story. I understand media literacy is going down (which is an insane fact given how much media people have access to now) but if you continue to talk down to them, they obviously aren’t going to learn how to figure it out themselves. I know “kids show” and all that, but if the kids who read the book were able to understand, and love, the story without it being almost all exposition, why would they not get it when it’s in the form of media they do know and consume now?

When adapting a story, it’s expected that things get cut and altered to fit the new media and really take all the advantages of that media to show pieces of the story that wouldn’t have worked in the original source. But in the case of Gabe turning to stone, it’s only talked about and isn’t actually in the book. Where in the show you show Gabe turning to stone but make it something he brought upon himself. It would not have taken more time or been any harder to have Sally take care of Gabe like we know she does. They could’ve shown her doing it, or followed the books way and only show the outcome. It is astounding how hard they worked to not have the story play out visually in visual media. This feels like the show version of the “highlight everything, if it wasn’t important it wouldn’t be included” mindset.

I understand the source material is a first person book, so everything is in the form of dialogue or internal monologue but you’re working with visual media, everyone doesn’t need to always state what is happening.

Needing to condense and simplify the story to work for the form of media you’re in is the whole point of adapting. It’s supposed to take advantage of the different things you can do that you couldn’t do in the original form of media. Having people explain what things are and what’s happening is definitely something that could happen in a book, but it didn’t happen in The Lightning Thief  because it doesn’t make for a good story. So why would doing that in visual media make for any better of a story?

Is it Good

The build-up to the show was full of Rick promising it would be far more faithful then the [REDACTED] movie. All that press really helped get everyone excited because the fandom, much like Rick himself, hate the movies and how much they changed the story. Then the show comes along and repeats the mistake of the movies in different ways, a fact made all the more worse with everything Rick had promised. The show is more faithful to the books then the movies, but that isn’t a very high bar.

I’ve seen a few people mention that they should’ve made the show animated, with the main reason of character congruency since real life people obviously grow up. A thing made more obvious with the timeline most streaming shows end up taking. And while that probably would’ve been a better show, I think if they had just treated this like a real television show and made it on a classic (read mostly outdated, unfortunately) timeline it would’ve ended up a much better, more consistent show. There were also the points of special effects and the gods all looking better animated, which again they would have, but if done right, would look especially good in live action. I mean imagine watching a real Percy Jackson come face to face with a well-designed, perfectly intimidating Hades, and it all looks as real as they can get with CGI.

A friend of mine, who had to put up with my ramblings about this the whole time, said “As someone who isn’t a dedicated fan of the books and just read the first book for 6th grade English… I can’t say anything about the show as an adaptation but as its own thing, I’d honestly say it was between ‘ok’ and ‘great’ and I think the fanbase deserves better than halfway between ok and good”.

The flashback with Sally and Poseidon talking about Percy and Poseidon just being there to support her does so much. It’s easily the best scene in the entire show, and my favorite, hands down. The final episode of the season let the story work. It’s probably my favorite episode, even if I don’t like how they ended up handling Gabe. Since it’s a post-credit scene I’ve decided to not let it affect this.

The behind the scenes documentary was a chance for me to step back and look at the whole show not just all those tiny details that drive me crazy. Solidifying that the only real complaint is the writing, which is important, because the acting, set design, casting, direction, just everything except parts of the dialogue are so good. It isn’t even all the writing, just the over explaining. It’s one of those things where everything was set up to be perfect but one tiny thing didn’t hold it’s weight and tainted everything else.

The frustrating thing is I don’t think it’s the show (or even Disney) that’s at fault for why it wasn’t great. I think this is just the direction tv media (and all visual media) has been heading towards. If they had more time for the story, they would’ve been able to show us the in between moments and more interactions between our characters. The documentary really shows how much everyone working on it, both in the cast and crew, deeply care about the project. The way everyone talks about their work in the documentary make it so clear how much love and care went into to show. I’m more mad at the industry and streaming corruption making the show into what it was then the show as a whole.

It feels like the show version of not planning out where to write you letters on a poster. You start out all big and bold and slowly everything just gets more and more squished.

It’s a good show, and I did enjoy it. But it didn’t stand up to the expectations that were built up for it. Those expectations were so high, primarily because of Rick continuing to say it’ll be close to the book, and the knowledge that he was involved and hates the movies as much as the fans, gave me, and all of us, hope for the story. Then we got the story and while it wasn’t hugely changed, it was still fundamentally different. The moment I found out how long the show’s season was going to be, I knew it wasn’t going to be quite what I wanted or what it deserves to be because so much would have to be cut and/or altered to fit.

read all here <prev 2 next>

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Hellu,

your recent post about Obi quittting the Order and becoming a senator on coruscant made feel some type of way and now I’d like to request a one-shot of Obi leaving the Order, becoming a successfull senator on coruscant and being in love with fem!reader. I dont care how you put her into the mix but I kinda imagine her as a senator as well and maybe they fell in love after he left the order and they met at a convention or something like this.

Oh and I adore your writings and am a huge fan of “conquered”-it’s awesome.

I received another request for Senator Obiwan haha and so I had to do it justice.

Hope you like it!

Word count: 2600

---

The Coruscant Spectacle

“Does he know?”, The reporter asked. You grew silent, it was easier to answer the other questions in this interrogation and make peace with the irony because of how it had all begun.

You wanted to make chief editor of the Coruscant times but you needed a story that would shatter the masses. As a woman, being caged with the daily columns of keeping the public enlightened about fashion trends made all this feel like an unattainable dream. It was, until you heard the news of his resignation. A Jedi abandoning the order and making it known to the public was, well the most scandalous thing to occur. Only that no one knew why? And as the rain engulfed you in it’s cold wrath, you knew you had found the perfect pawn for your game.

“That I love him?”, you asked softly.

“That you did not leak the article to the press.”, he corrected you. This metal room felt lonely and the hurt in your heart only caused more pain as you sat there, dejected. You had hurt the most innocent man, the man you loved, all for nothing.

“Oh that.”, you sniffed, tears where almost brimming.

“No.”, you said, suddenly having enough of all this.

“Is that all? I have a transport to catch.”, you furrowed your brows and it would seem that even the reporter pitied you. He had once been your colleague but now you were just another coruscant spectacle.

“That is all.”, he let you go and you left grabbing your things. This planet had burned you through.

---

It begun when you had disguised yourself as a lowly administrator looking to affiliate yourself with a senator, more precisely to become a part of his office. And so you did, working up the ranks, collecting pieces of information, living a dual life and it was all going well until Obiwan asked you to accompany him to a dinner with the press. He was going to make his debut at the Senate so the press wanted to know his thoughts and why he would be able to make a change.

“Why me?”, you had asked him as you matched his steps. A question out of your own curiosity when he stopped to look at you, a smile on his lips.

He took a moment to regard you. “I like your eyes, they never lie. You speak the truth and today I need it.”, he explained. His words, that moment, soon became the chink in your armour.

You stood by the sidelines, when he took to the podium to answer questions that had long been in the public’s mind, questions that had often plagued you having come to know how he truly was like. Kind and generous and compassionate. He didn’t deserve the backlash and yet he was standing here.

The Journalists began to plague him with questions that he answered patiently.

Why did you leave the order?

"I am a man who takes purpose from being of service and in many occasions I was not allowed to aid those that needed help when I was a part of the council. But I also did it for love and I will not elaborate on that."

Do you still keep to your Jedi ways, even though you live opulently as a senator?

"I do. Although now I have given myself the permission to enjoy certain comforts without the guilt. Most of what I earn is given back to the people or to fund my policies, so opulent wouldn’t be the term I would use."

How are you feeling for tonight?

He looked at the crowd when slowly he said.

"I would like my public relations manager to answer that. Most of what you see me as is all her work of art and she is the person I trust most."

The pang in your gut was too real, so real that you could feel your mind blank as you walked up to him amidst the flashing camera lights.

His smile, his hand on the small of your back ever so slightly caressing your exposed skin, his eyes looking into yours with utmost belief while you …

You cleared your throat and smiled to the expectant crowd. But as you were collecting your thoughts, he leaned in close, almost as if he was about to hug you, his lips touched the edge of your ear, “Tell me you believe in me.”, he whispered and you knew this day was all that you were going to remember your whole life because the months spent working beside him and with him had caused you to fall in love with him. You had abandoned the article, you had begun to live this life, all because of him.

“I haven’t crafted an image for him. He doesn’t live a dual life. What you see is exactly who he is. His love for the people and for justice is so pure you cannot help but choose his side. I believe in him and that tonight will sediment his victory in the Senate. I only used this position to get you all to see him, like I do.”, somewhere in between that you had turned to him as you spoke those words. His eyes beamed and with his golden hair he looked radiant.

Could he too feel the depth of your feelings?

The truth that sunk in was that the fraud in all this was you. So the moment you spoke the truth, you stepped away from him and left.

Months had passed and it grew exceedingly difficult to continue in this position, to work closely with him because that meant you had to see him and talk to him and notice his longing eyes and soft touches or his gentle voice asking you time and time again to join him for dinner. But you just couldn’t. You could not break his heart or take his story and run it to the ground. His fame and acclaim only grew, making it clear that you were not the woman for him. He deserved so much more.

But the day you had finished the article was also the day his bill for the clone troopers to have their only health cover and the ability to work after their service as soldiers was passed causing for a celebration. Just when you were about to escape he had somehow found you, taking your hand in his, he slipped away from his own party to his opulent suite.

“Obiwan, you should with our there, celebrating.”, you told him as he closed the door behind him. He looked rather frustrated as he walked away further. His blue shirt matched the colour of his eyes as it stretched and moved in alignment with his muscles on his back. He popped the top few buttons and rolled back his sleeves.

“Something’s wrong and you will not tell me.”, he cut straight to it. He was a negotiator, there was nothing that escaped his grasp.

His hair was set in place but as he ran his finger through it in an urgency, he looked even more distraught.

“Your campaign is a success.”, you put forth the truth to which he shook his head.

“No. Not the campaign. Us.”, he looked you in the eye as he said and the realization that there was no more room to hide became apparent.

“I didn’t know we were an item.”, you looked away.

“Don’t change the subject. That day, the press event. Why did you run?”, he drew closer but you moved away to the large living room that had an incredibly long sofa set and a warm fire.

“I had other things to attend to.”, you lied as you took a seat.

He sat next to you with enough space between you both for your pinky fingers to touch and the moment it did, it felt electric.

“I still know the ways of the Force.”, he turned to you.

“I know when you lie to me.”, he said softly.

“Obiwan.”, you whisper as a way to think of an escape but all you felt was his hand covering yours, not letting you go.

“Tell me the truth.”, he said with a noble authority.

“Everything I said then was true.”, you gave in, your heart hammering within your chest.

“Then why did you run?”, he asked again, leaning closer.

“Because I was scared.”, you said quietly and he stilled.

“Of my love for you.”, you admitted when his lips parted in the softest gasp.

“But you deserve someone better.”, you got up and he groaned.

“You deserve so much more.”, you took a step back and he glared at you.

“Don’t you think about it.”, he warned.

You picked up your pace.

“Stop running away.”, he demanded as you ran down the hallway, you didn’t have to look back to know he was chasing after you. To your surprise his droid blocked the door and so your eyes searched for any other possible exits. Having found nothing else, you  ran into the colonnade that led to his garden.

“How is it that after everything, you cannot seem to understand that I have fallen for you?”, he asked catching his breath, searching for you.

You couldn’t believe it, that all this you were feeling was mutual.

“You cannot lie to me.”, he voice grew closer.

“I can hear it in the change of your heartbeat. The soft warmth of your admiration or the truth in your words. I know you feel the same. So why do you put me through this agony?”, he demanded and you couldn’t tell him the reason. It would only hurt him.

“I do not want to hurt you, Obiwan. Can you not understand?”, you ask, growing anxious that he was going to spot you and just when you moved to run further, his hand looped around your waist pinning you to his chest. You could feel his solid form behind you as he breathed in deeply with his nose resting on the length of your neck, finally at peace that he had found you and you too had given up being out of breath.

“I lost my past love because my order failed to save her. I chose to be a senator only because I could not cage my heart again. I wanted to appreciate the relationships I had in my life. I wanted to be a brother to Anakin and not his master. I couldn’t let the council accuse Ahsoka falsely. I wanted a life where I would not be condemned for those actions. And by doing so I had fallen in love again. With you. Now you deny me of it.”, his breath was hot against your skin as he embraced you.

“I do not wish to deny you of it.”, you turned to him, your face construed in pain. Because you loved him, oh how wrong he had been to believe that you were keeping it away from him.

He looked down at you, in the moonlight, his skin glimmered and he looked magnificent, like he was actually a ruler of the glistening night. You gave into the beauty of the moment and thoughts that were resounding loudly in your mind. You touched his cheek first, your thumb grazed the top of his lip and you were certain he had held his breath.

“Trust me with the keys to your heart.”, he whispered and that was all it took for you to throw open the doors of your heart to him. His hands pulled you closer as his lips found yours and for a moment that felt like a lifetime everything in the universe was right. Your back touched the column as his hand slipped under your jaw to tilt your face up to him, to kiss you till he was breathless, till you forgot about the article.

You were going to delete it, right after this, it was going to be erased. But his comms pinged and he stepped away from you. His hair a mess, his cheeks flushed and his eyes alive like the sea. His face was glowing from all the happiness and you felt the same way too.

He looked at the message and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Is something the matter?”, you asked to which he turned his soft gaze back to you.

“Nothing. My presence has been requested to look at a possible leak.”, he responded.

“Do you want me to accompany you?”, you asked to which he smiled.

“No. Stay the night.”, he grinned as he kissed your forehead as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Come back soon.”, you mumbled into his chest.

He grumbled as though he didn’t want to leave so instead he placed a quick peck on your lips.

“It won’t take long.”, he said as he ran down the hallway, while you chuckled watching his retreating form. But you didn’t know that was the moment your whole world was about to be shattered.

Because when he returned, he wasn’t smiling and instead armed guards had come to take you away. Someone had leaked your article and the last thing you saw was him, seated alone on the couch, heartbroken as you were being taken away.

---

Now you were here, in the long line for a transport ship to the outer rim and a few other neutral planets. With only a small bag in your hand, you were ready to say goodbye to this wretched planet and it’s politics. The only longing in your heart was to tell him you were truly sorry and that all your love was in fact very real.

“You were his secretary weren’t you?”, some droid asked that stood behind you.

“The one that wrote this article.”, it continued but you didn’t pay it any heed.

“Leave the lady alone.”, said another voice and you were grateful for it.

“But why are you running away?”, the droid pressed further to ask and it had annoyed you. You turn to confront it.

“I am not running away. I love him too much to linger and see the pain I had caused.”, you jab your finger on its chest only to see it was a man wearing a robe, his head under a hood. But the shape of his lips and the small grin was enough to know who he was.

“What are you doing here, Obiwan?”, you whispered.

“Stopping you from leaving.”, he took your bag from your hands.

“Why?”, you stood in shock.

“I read it. The article. If it was a love letter that you wanted to publish all do was to just tell me.”, he chuckled.

“I don’t understand. You were heartbroken that night. I had caused pain once again in your life.”, you argued to which he shook his head softly and cupped your cheek.

“No I was sad that this system too did not let me protect the woman I loved.”, he drew you closer and stepped out of the line, you followed him.

“The senate wanted an investigation and I had to put you through it. I was there for all your briefings. I heard all your answers and never once did you say you did it to hurt me.”, he explained and your eyes grew wide taking in all this information.

“I believe you.”, he said finally and all you could do was hug him and let the tears fall.

“Now.”, he wrapped his arms around you.

“Don’t run off.”, he tilted your chin so he could see your face. The tear stains where fresh down your cheek, so he wiped them away.

“Never.”, you responded.

The headlines could say whatever it wanted to say. But the truth was right here, in the moment, as he held you close and took you home.