#whose idea was it at first? was it actually handmade? where did they get the time? all important questions

[bloodysparklez]

ep8 missing scene: .....where'd the gift for luffy come from

[feroluce]

smth smth yingfeng paralleling farcille

(magically inclined long lived partner tries to defy death by bringing their short lived partner back to life/have immortality but they come out Wrong(tm) instead)

just. the parallels <3

RIGHT? Like oh my god I love the idea of it: a mortal and immortal character falling in love, and the immortal one doing something horribly taboo for them to be together forever. But maybe they fuck something up, or maybe it's just their punishment for playing god, but their now-immortal lover Comes Back Wrong.

I'm actually not caught up on dunmeshi (I get the gist of farcille from socmed, though) but I really like an Inuyasha/Kikiyo flavor to it- Mortal lover is full of rage and hatred, immortal one can't not love them, and then they romantically and dramatically die together murder-suicide style and drag each other to hell. You know, the good shit. ☆

It is one of my ideal dynamics for a bad end pairing. And I do like necromancy shenanigans with a happier/good end, like farcille style too! Just...I don't like either situation for yingyue.

I don't think there's anything wrong with playing with them that way as long as you don't pass it off as canon, like I say all of this with no judgment. But I'm picky and I like to follow canon more closely so I can't really see them in that kind of scenario haha.

It's just! Yingxing's whole deal is that he's a haughty, spiteful, arrogant asshole of a man whose life mission is to be such a damn good craftsman that he can tell all the Xianzhou Natives who looked down on him to suck his short life species dick and flip them the bird. Him being made immortal takes all the fun out of it for me and kinda removes a central part of his character. I LOVE him being petty and full of himself. He should do it more!

And I am so so dearly enamored with the relationship between him and Baiheng. I can't write her out of the whole equation, especially considering she and Yingxing both Came Back Wrong from this incident, and she was the actual intended target.

Like. He loved her. Yingxing loved her. Baiheng was so, so important to him. She's referred to as "the beloved" in Blade's character stories. He called her his bosom friend. He handmade a jade flask just for her.

Not a weapon,

not something she needed,

not something he was doing to show off,

just a flask.

Something pretty, and just for her, something that she would like and use everyday. Not a need, but a want. He did it simply because he wanted to give her a present.

She was the first person to really encourage and believe in him. She helped him come out of his shell (so all that arrogance is her fault BSMZJMS). That animated short where they went up in her star skiff together and she called him cute fucking killed me. They make me chew concrete.

And she was really important to Dan Feng too! He wouldn't have tried to bring her back, otherwise! She died saving him. And he knew what he was doing when he chose to try to bring her back as a Vidyadhara. He had to have. There's no way he couldn't have known that his life was forfeit after this. They don't let you get away with purposely breaking one of the Ten Unpardonable Sins like that.

And he chose to do it anyway. He still chose her life over his own. Dan Feng loved her, too.

He and Yingxing both worked together to try to bring her back because she was someone neither of them could bear to lose.

So if anything, I feel like yingyue is more like larcille bringing back their beloved Falin haha

But no matter who is romantically involved with who, like. It's the love between all three of them that's important.

That's the secret ingredient that makes the triumph of Falin's rebirth and the horrific tragedy of the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae so emotional. Because these were things that could not have happened unless they all loved each other.

[hoardlikegoldenirises]

Just updated Naomi's costume post with these images as I came to a realization this morning, but thought I'd post them on their own—hey, gloves!

closeups and reasoning:

See, the thing is, the whooooole reason I wanted to give Naomi full-fingered gloves (and shoes) in the first place, for her advanced suit made of special materials, was very simply: to protect her fingers from the cold. Even in California, if she's climbing high enough, she's going to wind up in the cold, and having her fingers and toes out in the cold seems like a bad idea.

She climbs with van der Waals forces, aka the same thing a gecko uses, with setae (modified hairs) in her fingertips and toes (and also her soles/palms), so her handmade costume obv has those fingerless gloves and easily removable shoes with stirrup tights. So the whole thing with the exotic suits is that they use carbon nanotubes and/or comic book science mumbo jumbo to let her completely cover up her hands and feet and still stick. Side effect of this is that actually she would be able to use these gloves and shoes to climb even without powers lol.

But then when I was working on her costumes I couldn't help thinking that he powerset really made her kind of... well... not useless but not really a character who'd be capable of holding her own in, for example, a fight. Recon, stealth, yes, all that, but she had absolutely no offensive measures, no weapon, no super-strength—nothing.

So it was at that point of course that I decided to ask friends and acquaintances for ideas to get me rolling on how to make a 100 lb wall-crawler viable in a fight, and where that ended up was like, two or three different people saying, hey, what if poison? And that made me go, o-ho-ho what if poison indeed! So naturally, me being me, I proceeded to spend at LEAST an hour if not much longer reading about venoms, poisons, and eventually gila monsters and beaded lizards, whose venom is delightfully neither lethal (at least, not in the quantities a lizard bite delivers) AND apparently cause some of the most painful envenomations known to man lol so I thought that would be verrrry fun.

The only question then was like, me wondering how she would deliver the venom at all, you know? Biting requires such close quarters (but hey, mask is open; I am 100% tucking "venomous bite" into my back pocket), and most of the poisons from poisonous amphibians are like. extremely deadly (lol) and seem to also be diet-based, rather than made by the animal, which would not be workable here—and also her powerset is reptilian, not amphibious, so obviously I had scrapped the idea of poisons via absorption already by that point.

Anyway, I'm rambling. My solution, as you can see, was to use her already-existing modified hairs to my advantage and add a bonus, other kind of modified hair related to her setae, which is hollow needle that shoots out of the follicle to inject her painful non-lethal venom into the skin of a potential foe/victim/attacker.

Which... requires fingerless gloves. That was easy, I just drew some fingers on and called it good, not really thinking about the whole reason I went for full gloves in the first place.

Of course, this morning, I suddenly realized, oh fuck, her fingers would fall off in the cold 😂 Luckily I did literally draw the fingers in a separate folder above the gloves so I have both versions ready to go at all times (hm, good thinking, past me) so I decided to slap this image together and show the full gloves and fingerless gloves side-by-side, with the thinking that, much like helmets and masks and the initial magical girl-esque transformation that all of these characters use to suit up in the first place (just to make my life easier lol), she can probably just transform her gloves between fingered and fingerless whenever she wants. easy.

And it kind of fits with the reptile theme. You know, changing the appearance—like a chameleon. (camouflage also a possible power but not 100% for sure yet. it's on my list though)

[thealmightyemprex]

Top 10 Arnold Schwarzenegger movie

Ah ,Arnold .As a kid with an action loving dad ,I grew up on a steady diet of his flicks .Some are legit great ,some are not ,but they are at least memorable

Also sorry Commando is not on here,cause I dont remember if I have seen all of it

10.Batman and Robin

Hey this is favorite list ,not best .I know this film has been trashed to High Heaven over 25 years .....But damn its got fun moments and one of them is the hilarious miscasting of Arnold as the films villain Mr Freeze .While I do maintain he is miscasted.....Arnold seems to be having fun .It is one of the only times I can think of where you get to see Arnold as a scene chewy villain ,and him hamming it up and making ice puns is kind of a joy to watch

9.Conan the Destroyer

So I wanna save my opponion on Conan the Barbarian for later ,I'll just say I like it a lot and that this films big flaw is it doesnt live up to that first film.....That said I love that this film does its own thing .THis film is basically a D&D campagn with a ragtag group of heroes : big tough barbarian ,a weasly thief ,a kooky wizard ,a badass warrior woman , a princess ,and a token evil teamate who is working for the big bad ,all on a quest where they fight wizards and monsters and so forth . Cast is fun with returning players Arnold and Mako being a ton of fun ,SArah Douglas is a great villain ,but the scene stealer is Grace Jones . Its not perfect but if your in the mood for a quest based fantasy film,this is a fun watch

8.Kindergarten Cop

....OK I might get some shit for not putting this higher ,so I just wanna say its a really good movie. It uses Arnold comedy gifts well ,big tough movie cop being a kindergarten teacher is a hilarious premise , and I like the darker aspects that offset the comedy ....So why dont I have it higher?Honestly its just not a film I seek out .EVery time I have watched it it was because it was on TV or someone else was watching it .I'm also not a comedy person in general and If I do its something either dark or absurd . Will say it is a great movie ,just not one I watch a bunch

7.Last Action Hero

Now this is a movie with a great premise that I wish it did more with ,a kid being sucked into a action movie .It sets up some idea that I wish it went all the way with .That said there are hilarious moment s (ARNOLD AS HAMLET ),a weirdly great cast (Anthony Quinn is in this thats amazing ) ,Arnolds great ,and I actually love the main villain played by Charles Dance ,who is set up as a henchmen before hijacking the main villain role

6.Jingle All The Way

OK let me explain -THis is a nostalgic Christmas movie for me ,and this is my fave Arnold comedy....Kind of BECAUSE it is so weird . You have ARNOLD ,this musclebound action man ,playing a put upon every man ,whose trying to get a toy for his kid and dealing with rageaholic reindeer ,battling a warehouse of con men Santas led by Jim Belushi ,while a lustful Phil Hartman is trying to seduce his wife and it climaxes with him becoming a superhero fighting a psychotic Mailman played by Sinbad .....This film is fucking INSANE .......I LOVE IT .I love the skeevy performance of the late great Phil Hartman and its such a weird mix of ingredients ,I dont know if its GOOD ,but I resally love this insane movie

5.Terminator

I do think this film has aged a bit,i ......But its still really good ,in fact I think that makes it unique. The film has a dingy handmade quality , like you can tell this is an unpolished not high budget film and that makes is so cool .It is also VERY 80's ..Linda Hammilton and Michael Biehn are great but the scene stealer is Arnold as the villain .ONE.OF .THe COOLEST .BAD GUYS .EVER .Arnold is weirdly perfect as a unstoppable killer robot ,and he is aided by the effects work of Stan Winston (I will bring him up a few times )

4,Total Recall

Now we get to the great movies in my oppinion . This film is both really interesting with its sci fi concept and questioning of what is real and what is a simulation .....But its also a fun action romp with one liners and Arnold kicking but galore .Also cant go wrong with Michael Ironside and Ronny Cox as your villains

3.Predator

OK these top 3 are so good I could make them a tie ,but I do have a preference.It starts off as a military action movie with big burly tough guys like Arnold,Bill Duke,Carl Weathers and Jesse Ventura doing macho tough guy things.....And then you realize this is a HORROR film ,and that these big tough action heroes are being hunted as prey by a very terrifying monster . I wish more movies did genre switches like this .It s also a rare Arnold isnt the focus,the real star is monster .I swear it people,The Predator is one of the most intimidating and terrifying villains in Sci Fi and I will give all credit to not only the effects work of Stan Winston but the amazing performance of the late Keven Peter Hall ,who makes possibly the best opponent Arnold has ever faced

2.Terminator 2 Judgement Day

So if I was going by best this might be number one cause.....I cant deny it,this is an action masterpiece .It does what a sequel should and it BUILDS on the first while also being its own film .I think it might be Arn9olds best performance ,the effects both practical and CG are groundbreaking ,the action is heartpounding ,Lind Hamilton is AMAZING and while the Predator is the best villain Arnold has faced ,the T100 is number 2 for me ,theis terrifying shapshifter is just relentless

1.Conan the Barbarian

That said this is my fave . If its sequel is a D&D campagn ......This is an epic poem .The action is grand ,the set design is grand , the MUSIC is one of the best film scores ever ,and the supporting cast includes legends like James Earl Jones,Mako and Max Von Sydow ,and it does all this while telling a timeless tale of revenge .I think ,while he has better performances down the line,this is the best use of Arnold and being one of my favorite fantasy films, I had to give it the top spot

What are your fave Arnold movies

@ariel-seagull-wings @goodanswerfoxmonster @angelixgutz @amalthea9 @the-blue-fairie @princesssarisa @filmcityworld1 @themousefromfantasyland

[thefanficmonster]

Matured

Corpse Husband & Little Sister Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Sibling Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse’s search for a roommate ends shortly after his little sister calls him, telling him she’s moving out of her high school dorm in the suburbs following her graduation to attend college in San Francisco.

Requested by @bugger2002  Hi darling! Thank you so much for this adorable request, I had such a fun time turning it into a fic! Sorry it has taken me so long to complete it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Alright, it’s been a month since Y/N announced she’d be moving in with me - no, she didn’t ask if she could nor if I’d want her to, she straight up casually informed me she’d be moving in with me since she’s starting college. I’m lucky she even thought to tell me, knowing her it wouldn’t have been so strange for her to just show up on my doorstep with a grin like “Alright, I live here now.” Having a six years younger sister who can act both younger and older than me - sometimes both at the same time - is a bit complex. Obviously, my protective and nurturing brotherly instinct kicks in whenever she complains to me about something, but seconds later she tells me she’s taken care of it already and I feel like a fool for overreacting even if it was only internal. She’s calm and rational when she needs to be and a reckless airhead whose only goal is to have fun when she wants to be.

And judging by her and her friends’ main methods of obtaining said fun I can see how much alike we are: playing drunk video games, drunk darts, drunk pool. You see, there’s a lot of drinking involved and that’s something I’m greatly unhappy with and have scolded her on countless times just to get a fake promise, probably with fingers crossed behind her back - that she’ll cut down the alcohol. Not to mention she’s not even old enough to drink so I’ve been very insistent on her cutting her bad habit. She’s tried calling me hypocritical at times but she can’t do so rightfully since I’m, you know, of drinking age. So she’s basically bound by law to follow my advice and orders.

At least now that she’ll be staying with me I’ll be able to keep a better eye on her. A rascal high school student will either mature-up in college or go even more downhill. I aim to make her fall in the first category, but I’m making no promises - she’s very unruly, just like me. Damn, never did I think my own traits would come hitting me in the back of the head like a boomerang but here we are.

Regardless of all the crap I’ve just spewed about her, she’s a wonderful girl. She’s always been my pillar of support and never gets tired of it. She never misses a call of mine and has never not replied to a message of mine, no matter how drunk she’s been. She’s never skipped a Saturday night Skype call, no matter how busy she’s been. She’s never let herself forget she has a brother who often times needs her by his side.

Once she even talked one of her friends who has a car and a driver’s license drive her all the way to my apartment complex when I was having a really bad anxiety attack and legit couldn’t talk on the phone. She went door to door to find which apartment I live in and stayed with me the whole weekend she was supposed to spend at a music festival or something. It’s not wonder she’ll be a med student - she’s always wanted to be a nurse and has practically been my personal nurse since she was twelve. She maybe wasn’t always physically present to help me, but she’s a great instruction giver for when I need her and she’s unable to come to my aid.

Well now, we’ll both be there to aid one another.

“BEEP BEEP FUCKER!“

I nearly flip off my chair at the distinct yelling coming from directly below my window. I’d recognize that voice anywhere, and it’d always bring a smile to my face without fail.

I rush to get up from my desk chair and open the window but when I do so, she’s no longer on the sidewalk. There’s only a car I recognize to be the one of the friend that drove her here during that nightmarish episode I explained earlier.

Before I can ever back away from the window, I hear my front door swing open and a yell echo from down the hall, “Corpse! How many times do I need to tell you to lock your door, damn it!”

“The same amount of times I’ve had to tell you to cut down on the al- WHOA!“ She doesn’t let me finish the sentence and jumps me the second I step out in the hallway.

“Missed you, stupid!“ She says, her legs wrapped around my waist as she ruffles my hair, “I’ll trim your hair later. Why have you let it get so long?“ She questions, furrowing her brows at me while running both her hands through my mess of a hair - she has a point, I’ve let it get out of control. While doing so, she seems to get an idea all of a sudden so she quickly climbs down, reminding me of the huge height difference we have now that her feet are on the floor. “I know you two have met before, but I think you need to re-meet...“ she says, turning to look at her friend who’s smiling timidly at her. She sends the flustered girl a wink before turning back to look at me, “Corpse, I’d like you to meet Abbey, my girlfriend“ she says proudly, skipping over to the blue haired girl and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Y/N pushes up on her tiptoes and places a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. It’s adorable to see her shorter than yet another person she clearly adores to annoy.

I smile at the two girls, holding back a chuckle as to not embarrass Abbey more, “Well then, nice to meet you Abbey. You should know you are one strong soul to be putting up with all that.“ I purposely don’t look at Y/N as I motion towards her, earning me a pissed off “Hey!“ as a response to my remark, “Stick around for dinner, don’t worry neither of us will be cooking.“ I point at myself and then at Y/N as if to reassure her she won’t be a victim of food poisoning.

“Actually...“ Abbey says, tilting her head to look my shortie sister in the eyes as if taunting her to say something.

She finally caves, raising her left hand as though she’s volunteering, “Ugh fine, I may or may not have taken a cooking course and may or may not know how to cook a decent meal. It’s whatever, really.”

To say I’m impressed would be an understatement. I’m impressed, shocked, surprised and flooded with joy that my sister has finally decided to start maturing. “Cooking course, huh? When did you decide living off of takeout isn’t a nice way to live?”

She rolls her eyes at me, “Oh no I still go full weeks with only takeout and cereal, I just needed a distraction because...well...” she trails off, her gaze dropping awkwardly as she fishes for words or perhaps already has them found but doesn’t want to spit them out.

Abbey huffs, taking Y/N’s hand and lifting it to show off her wrist where I catch sight of a batch of colorful handmade bracelets, “Because these aren’t gonna earn themselves.”

I raise an eyebrow, puzzled as to what exactly she’s referring to.

Y/N sighs, taking one of the bracelets, playing with it nervously, “I have one for every month I’ve spent without getting drunk - Abbey made them for me. I need a distraction to stay sober so...I took up cooking.“

I can’t remember a moment I haven’t felt proud of my sister. Y/N’s always been on top of her shit, drunk or sober she knows what she’s doing. She’s mindful even when she’s reckless, thinks soberly even when she’s been drinking heavily. She’s always proved herself to me and to the people who think of her as a lowlife without even trying. She lets the world breeze by her without thinking too much of it and yet she still mesmerizes me and many of the people she meets - Abbey has now officially joined the club.

But, all things said and considered, I think I’ve never felt as proud of her as I do right now, seeing those six bracelets on her wrist - half a year without getting drunk. I know she wouldn’t lie to Abbey, she rarely lies to me too, so those bracelets have been earned and well-deserved and that makes me feel like the Y/N I remember is not the one standing in front of me right now. That silly girl is still in the suburbs, making a shitty-ass choice of messing up her liver. A grown woman, a responsible adult has taken her place though, and I couldn’t be more glad.

“Y/N...“ I finally manage to utter her name, making her gaze meet mine, “I’m so fucking proud of you.“

A smile slowly stretches the corners of her mouth upwards, her eyes shning in a way that has nothing to do with the lighting in this hallway. She’s not a crier though, I know those tears are gonna stay right there, stubbornly refusing to escape her eyes, “Thanks, Corpse. I’m proud of you too....” she says, nodding her head slowly, “I can overlook the untrimmed hair.”

Sigh

Y/N will always be Y/N no matter what I guess. That’s a good thing - I love her just the way she is.

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[couldyouimagine-that]

Honestly dude, idek. This just came to me. Not really any warnings, but there are mentions of alcohol and it takes place in a club/bar. A Boba x Reader songfic using Shape of You by Ed Sheeran.

Masterlist

-

You began tapping your fingertips against the table yourself and your companions were occupying when the live band started playing Shape of You. You were lowkey keeping an eye on a tall, dark haired man across the dancefloor from where you were sitting. He was the latest target you were after, one Boba pointed out to you and in fact a bounty Din had been told about by Karga a few days ago. Your heel started tapping to the uplifting beat without your permission, something Boba raised a silent eyebrow at from his place next to you. You gave a half shrug before jumping up just as the lyrics started up.

“The club isn’t the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I go,” you sang, voice drowned out by the music blaring through the speakers around you. Your words were directed at Boba, though you glanced at the bar just off to the side to play along with the song. He rolled his eyes in response. “Me and my friends at the table doing shots, drinking fast and then we talk slow.” You offered a wide grin to Din and Cara at this point, the Mandalorian’s helmet moving in such a way that you suspected it was hiding a knowing smirk and Cara just displaying hers openly. Fett’s own helmet was resting on the table in front of him, visor facing out to the room and making his broad figure all the more imposing.

“Come over and start up a conversation with just me and trust me, I’ll give it a chance.” Your gaze was back on Boba now, who was having absolutely none of it. Your feelings for bounty hunter were by no means secret among anyone, but he was playing hard to get. That was fine; you were more than capable of doing the same.

“Take my hand, stop, put Van the Man on the jukebox and then we start to dance.” You started swaying your hips to the beat just slightly, a hand you knew would be ignored outstretched towards Fett. If the music were any quieter, you might have heard Din scoff behind his visor, gaze very firmly fixed on his two close friends. Him and Cara had been working (scheming) for ages to get you two together, but it turned out to be Boba who wouldn’t make the move. They came to the same conclusion you had; this was a game for him and he was dragging it out as long as possible.

“And now I’m singing like-” You cut yourself off, retracting your hand only to gesture at the bounty hunter, clearly signalling for him to pick up the lyrics. He refused point blank, watching your movements with a neutral expression. ���You’re no fun!” You yelled over the music, a teasing grin over your lips. In the absence of a response, you continued singing. “Say, boy, let’s not talk too much, grab on my waist and put that body on me.” That was accompanied with a calculated swivel of your hips. “Come on now, follow my lead,” you started walking backwards, hips jutting out to each side like you were on a catwalk, then you spun sharply and continued stalking towards the centre of the dancefloor. There were a few people already on there, but that didn’t bother you. “Come, come on now, follow my lead.” You continued singing, commanding the attention of the room, confidence practically rolling off of you in waves. You stopped right in the middle, eyes surveying the crowd now waiting to see what you did next. One very specific set of eyes were boring into your back.

“I’m in love with the shape of you,” you were exaggerating all of your movements now, your whole body seeming to become part of the lyrics flowing around you. “We push and pull like a magnet do.” You threw your hands forwards and backwards to emphasize that. “Although my heart is falling too, I’m in love with your body.” You had gained a fair few people’s attention now, making you pretty confident that your plan would work. “And last night you were in my room,” you spun around, gesturing randomly into the group of onlookers, “and now my bedsheets smell like you. Every day, discovering something brand new, well I’m in love with your body.” You punctuated the following ‘oh’s’ in the song with precise flicks of your wrist, hips moving to match. You moved back towards the other side of the floor with a bit of fancy footwork, eyes locking on one particular person.

“One week in, we let the story begin, we’re going out on our first date.” You reached out to the man whose attention you had been trying to get (quite successfully done if you did so yourself), eyebrows lifting to suggest the lyrics were about him. He gave a wide smile in return, between surprised and pleased. “But you and me are thrifty, so go all you can eat. Fill up your bag and I fill up a plate.” He started walking towards you, his own hand starting to reach out. You took it and pulled him onto the dancefloor, close to you but not quite touching.

“We talk for hours and hours about the sweet and the sour, and how your family’s doing okay.” Your whole body was swaying, and you kept eye contact with your apparently willing target. “Leave and get in a taxi, we kiss in the backseat,” you blew him a chaste kiss, “tell the driver make the radio play. And I’m singing like-”

“Girl you know I want your love, your love was handmade for somebody like me.” Your face lifted in joy as he sang the lyrics, voice a deep baritone that was barely audible beneath the pounding music. “Come on now, follow my lead, I may be crazy, don’t mind me.” He glanced off to the side in faux disappointment, the warm grin ruined the effect entirely.

“Say, boy, let’s not talk too much,” you lightly tapped his chest, then grabbed his wrists. “Grab on my waist and put that body on me.” You put his hands on your waist then yours on his shoulders, now dancing as a couple like you had known each other for years. You offered the onlookers a bright wink and a raised eyebrow in your current partner’s direction as if asking if he was the one. The cheers you got in response certainly sufficed as an answer. “Come on now, follow my lead. Come, come on now, follow my lead.” You moved close to his chest then, arms around his middle and dancing over his spine, trailing to just above the back of his belt.

You sang the chorus together, you easily matching the footwork he came up with. You had to admit it; he was an excellent dancer. During the first set of ‘oh’s’, you faced each other, hip movements matching and exaggerated once more. On the second, you spun sharply to repeat the movement with the man at your back, then you both spun so you were behind him on the third repetition. He turned a third time to face you once more as you continued matching each other’s footwork, some of it fairly complicated and receiving some appreciative cheers from your accumulated crowd. “Come on, be my baby, come on.” His fingertips trailed over your jaw as he pretended to ask you genuinely, you making a show of considering it in return. You carried this on until you reached the last chorus.

“I’m in love with your body.” You twirled a few times, his hand well above your head with how tall he was. “Every day, discovering something brand new.” You came to face him one final time, arching your back and leaning back, him leaning over you to give a dramatic end to your routine. “I’m in love with the shape of you!”

You grinned as you looped your arms around your partner’s neck and let him pull you upright once more, offering your adoring crowd kisses from your fingertips. You walked off of the dancefloor together, still standing close when you stopped. Your chest was heaving but you kept up your grinning.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” He had a fairly strong Southern accent now you could actually hear his voice. You thanked him, but declined graciously nonetheless by telling him you were just out to have a good dance. You parted on as friendly terms as possible with a stranger, then made your way through the crowd and back towards your table, hips still swaying to the beat of the next song. Someone stopped you when you were almost back to compliment your dancing, so you used that as an excuse to take the last couple of steps in reverse. You thanked her as she moved away once more, then collapsed backwards heavily into the seat of the circular booth surrounding your table, pressing yourself firmly into Boba’s side. He turned his head towards you almost immediately, but made no further move. You didn’t look at him either, gaze on Cara as she gave an impressed whistle.

“I had no idea you could dance like that,” she said with a smirk which you quickly returned. Boba gave a quiet cough next to you, but rather than meet his gaze, you stared out over the dancefloor, noting your partner had well and truly disappeared. With that, you held up a hand in front of Boba and dropped both an ID and security card onto his lap.

“That guy wasn’t actually the target,” you murmured, sitting close enough to the mandalorian’s side that he heard you speak. “He was part of the security detail, and the one we’re actually after is very much not here.” You saw Cara and Din share a glance from the corner of your eye, but Boba still said nothing. You couldn’t help the slight twang of disappointment you felt at that, after all the trouble you went to for the sake of getting information which was at least in part for him. You waited a minute in the growing silence before shifting your body just slightly so you could see the bounty hunter from the corner of your eye, though the indignant “Well?” you were about to give was well and truly cut off.

Fett’s hand moved to cup your face, one finger trailing lightly over your throat first. You were still panting a little from the dancing but you were sure he wouldn’t believe that for a second. Your eyes widened in spite of themselves and the wicked smirk he threw you was enough to tell you he knew exactly why.

“Impressive,” Boba muttered warmly, the multicoloured lights projecting from the ceiling reflecting in his amber eyes. Any witty response you would have normally given died on your lips as he twisted to face you properly, his other hand going to the back of your neck to pull you in close. You rested your hands on his shoulders before you could think better of it and then his lips were on yours and everything around you simply faded into nothing.

When you finally came back to your senses, all you could focus on was Boba. He leaned forward again until his forehead rested against yours in what you belatedly realised was a Keldabe kiss, a gesture that made you lose your breath just as much as the other kiss you had shared just a moment ago. Neither of you said anything and nothing needed to be said, though eventually you were both brought back to the real world by slow clapping from Cara and a grumbled albeit good-natured “Took you long enough,” from Din.

[tarysande]

Lucifer Fic: Sheet Happens (1/1)

For @thedeckerstarnetwork’s Halloween Challenge. @calia05 asked for “ghost” and “trick,” and said she loved Ella and Azrael. This is the result! <3

Also on AO3

Sheet Happens

Miss Lopez delivered the invitation in typical Miss Lopez fashion: as exuberantly as the world's friendliest golden retriever high on Adderall. Clearly handmade, she’d cut the card into the shape of a cartoonish ghost, white bedsheet and all, and covered it with an absurd amount of silvery glitter. Meaning, of course, that it covered him with an absurd amount of silvery glitter in short order. The sparkles stood out against the black of his suit like snowflakes. Or dandruff. Not that the Devil was in any way personally acquainted with the latter.

“Thank you,” he said gravely, holding the glitter bomb at as close to arm’s length as he could politely get away with.

Miss Lopez wore her every emotion not just on her sleeve, but from the top of her head to the tips of her platformed running shoes. Today’s t-shirt featured a sad ghost with a spilled cup of coffee and the phrase ‘Sheet Happens.’ “So, you’ll come?”

“Ah.” Even as the syllable emerged, Miss Lopez’s face began to fall. “It’s a … popular evening at Lux. I do rather feel I owe my patrons an appearance.”

“Oh,” she said, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand and leaving ghostly glitter behind. “Duh. I should’ve thought of that.”

The glitter was sentient. He could practically feel it creeping up his fingers. He would have to burn the suit; once infected, recovery was impossible. He could only imagine how infested her home must be. The mind behind the creation of the stuff was truly devious; in the darkest of hellscapes, he’d never come across anything quite so … persistent.

“Would you … prefer to offer the invitation to someone else?” he asked, gesturing slightly with the ghost held between the tips of finger and thumb.

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to have said. She wilted, and when she shook her head, even her ponytail seemed sad. “I made it for you,” she tossed over her shoulder, already fleeing back to her lab as fast as her impractically high shoes would allow.

#

“You’re going, Lou.”

Lucifer blinked. Though the music and revelry, sin and sensation raged around him at top volume, the words reached his ears as clearly as if they were spoken into utter silence. Beside him, Azrael slouched, wearing the form so clearly influenced by Miss Lopez.

Or perhaps it was the other way around? The Azrael of old hadn’t slouched. She hadn’t worn bizarre spectacles or sported bowl-cut hair and t-shirts with sayings on them. When she glared up at him, hands planted on hips, her cloak parted wide enough for him to make out today’s offering. In the same cute-cartoon style as Ms. Lopez’s, it depicted a Grim Reaper, coffee in hand and wearing the exhausted expression Lucifer had so often seen on human faces after too little sleep or too much alcohol, next to the words ‘I FEEL LIKE DEATH.’

Lucifer sipped his whiskey to give his hands and his mouth something to do besides reply.

“Not just for Ells. Literally every one of your friends is there.”

He sighed, stepping aside as a tipsy angel with crooked wings tried to press up against his side. The cloying scent of her cheap Victoria’s Secret perfume wasn’t as easy to avoid. Neither was her pout.

“But you’re the Devil,” she whined in a voice he wished he heard much less clearly. “And I’m an angel. It’s sexy.”

“More like incestuous,” Azrael murmured, catching Lucifer so off-guard he choked on his drink. The smug grin she shot him was entirely the Rae-Rae of old. She nudged him with her cloaked elbow. “Still got it.”

He inclined his head at the disappointed angel, sidestepped a werewolf and vampire with tongues so deeply down each other’s throats that witnesses would convert to #TeamWhoNeedsBellaWhenYouHaveEdwardAndJacob at the sight of it, and swiped a bottle of whiskey he refused to see poured for anyone with such undiscerning tastes as the Borat who’d just ordered it. Evidently the bouncers had forgotten the longstanding no-neon-green-mankinis rule.  

Azrael followed on his heels, and though he bloody well knew no one else could see her, somehow the seething crowds parted more easily for her than they had even for him.

“Why are you here instead of there?”

“I—you see how busy—”

“Uh, I see how you haven’t talked to anyone for longer than two minutes, your piano’s nowhere to be seen, and you’re basically oozing sulking-Devil-do-not-approach vibes.”

“You try my patience, Azrael.”

She shrugged. A trio of sexy nurses—or perhaps maids; it was hard to tell given the lack of fabric—contorted themselves into shapes he should have found pleasing to avoid being too near to her. One attempted to fall toward him, but he slid to the side so she ended up grappling with one of the evening’s nineteen (at last count) Captains America.

“Yeah? Well, you’re bugging me too,” she said, evidently oblivious to the effect her presence was having. “You didn’t even read the card, did you?”

“The … excuse me?”

Azrael’s prodigious eye roll involved every muscle in her face. “From Ella?”

A twinge of something like regret turned the whiskey on his tongue to ashes. He’d dropped disco-ghost into an evidence bag before it could do any more damage and left it at the precinct without sparing it a second thought.

Azrael thrust that same evidence bag into his chest hard enough to send him staggering back half a step. Another angel got partway through a curse Lucifer had a hard time imagining any of his siblings speaking before she realized the Devil to whom that curse was directed. He sensed a new rule for the bouncers brewing.

Of course, the most persistent of the angels presently irritating him didn’t obligingly flit off into the crowd at his glower. He’d no idea how someone so vertically challenged could make him feel small, and yet. The evidence bag and its spectral occupant had fluttered to the ground between them, where it lay like a murder victim bathed in blood glittering red from the overhead lighting. Sheet happens.

He bent from the waist, snatching up the invitation and stalking toward the elevator. The sea of demons and various sexy professionals and animals and … bloody hell, Sexy Donald Trump was infinitely worse than the worst mankinied Borat. Some things couldn’t be unseen.

And then he was in the elevator, and it didn’t matter that Azrael wasn’t with him because she’d be waiting for him with her ridiculous fringe and, beneath it, eyes that always reflected the brother he could have been, perhaps, if he didn’t fail so spectacularly so often.

He scanned the room when the elevator door opened but saw nothing out of place, and when he called out, no one answered. Azrael could creep and hide and lurk as effectively as the angelic purpose over which she held dominion, but rarely from him.

He opened the evidence bag and dumped its contents on the bar, releasing the spirit and its miasma of sparkles. The bloody thing looked so bloody cheerful—and not at all like any of the spirits he’d had occasion to meet over the millennia.

Then again, give the thing a spectral ponytail and a cute t-shirt and maybe—

He silenced the thought by reaching for a bottle. He didn’t, at least for the first burning pull, even bother with a glass.

He poured the second drink. By the third, he was ready to open the damned—ha bloody ha—thing. In the ebullient handwriting so familiar from paperwork and post-it notes, Miss Lopez had written, “My brothers made Halloween more about tricks than treats, usually at my expense. It would be ‘boo’tiful if you could come to my party. COSTUMES MANDATORY.” Instead of her name, she’d drawn a pair of ghosts. One was grinning. It had a ponytail. The other was taller; it held a microphone. It also had devil horns and a tail.

It was grinning, too.

Lucifer closed the invitation and pushed it away with trembling fingertips.

“Why aren’t you there, Lou?”

He gripped the edge of the bar until the moment before the marble would have crumbled. “Surely you know better than anyone, sister.”

The sound she made, caught somewhere between a gasp and a cry, was enough to turn his head. “I’m not—Lucifer, you know I’m not—”

“But you will,” he said. “Because they’re human. Because you’re you. And because you will do as you must. So forgive me for choosing to spend this night of specters and shadows amidst those whose deaths, when they come, will not weigh near so heavily.”

Moments stretched into minutes. Azrael’s jaw worked, and her expression said the words she chewed were bitter ones. Finally, narrowing her eyes, she said, “That’s bullshit.”

Unexpected.

A flush rose in her cheeks and her eyes sparkled not with admiration or sisterly love, but with anger. “You’re sad their time is finite, so you’re wasting what time you do have sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Listen to yourself, Lou. No, seriously. Like, stop for one minute and actually hear the crap coming out of your mouth.” She glanced down at her hands like she was trying to figure out just how much damage they were capable of inflicting. “You’re so … dumb. Like. Just … dumb.”

And though he wanted to protest, wanted to explain in painful, specific detail just why death and eternity and banishment from Heaven made his situation so much bloody worse … he didn’t.

Because Miss Lopez had drawn them as grinning ghosts. To her, this night was treats and costumes and friends and, as in so many traditions throughout all of bloody human history, defying the coming dark by facing it head-on. Perhaps the current tradition didn’t involve bonfires or sacrifices, but he’d be bloody damned—more damned—if gorging on candy and gathering in friendship and depicting the things humans knew went bump in the night without truly knowing how to name them as cartoons and bad puns wasn’t the very same flavor of ritual.

He released his grip on the bar. His hands glittered.

“Costumes are mandatory,” Rae-Rae reminded him.

When he glanced over his shoulder again, she was gone.

#

He stood outside, listening to the laughter within, for fifteen minutes. He raised his hand to knock eighteen times. He turned to leave at least seven.

“I’m gonna do it if you don’t, Lou.”

Bloody sisters.

He knocked. Moments stretched into eternities.

The door, decorated with glimmering ghosts and glittering pumpkins, opened, revealing Miss Lopez in all her pool-noodle-turned-double-helix-DNA glory.

For a moment, Miss Lopez’s wide eyes were so like Rae-Rae’s—the same belief in him; the same, dare he say it, love—that Lucifer couldn’t find breath for whatever foolish, nonchalant nonsense he’d usually have opened with. And when those eyes filled with glistening tears to accompany a grin no drawing could possibly capture, he was the first to look away.

“You came! In costume!” Leaning forward, she squinted at him, then reached out and plucked at his costume. “Oh my God, Lucifer, tell me you didn’t cut eyeholes in a freaking silk sheet that probably cost like, a month of paychecks.”

“I do not lie, Miss Lopez, so I can say no such thing.” Though she couldn’t see it, he grinned at the way horror and delight mingled on her features. He brushed close, close enough to give the phantom equivalent of the hugs she handed out so enthusiastically, and pretended not to feel a little teary-eyed himself at how tightly she returned the gesture. “Who am I to defy your command?”

She laughed and punched him on the arm. “Have you met you?”

“Ahh,” he replied gently. “But have you met you?”

This time, the laughter he heard belonged not to Miss Lopez but to his sister. And though she, too, was bound to her commands, as he stepped into the warmth and light and laughter of Miss Lopez’s home, Azrael’s dominion was the very last thing on his mind.

[cienie-isengardu]

The development of Law’s relationship with Zoro - Part 4: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (Saving Law)

<<Part I: Before Meeting>> <<Part II: Sabaody Archipelago, The First Meeting>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard, The Alliance (A)>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard, The Alliance (B)>>  <<Part IV: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (The Plan Failed)__ (Saving Law)__(Protecting Law)__ (Birdcage, Pica and Doflamingo)__ (Aftermath)>>

The mission of saving Law (chapter 731) was carried by Luffy, Zoro and Kinemon, while Franky, Robin and Usopp were responsible for destroying the factory with the help of dwarves.

Before Luffy left the Colosseum, he met Sabo (his and Ace's long-lost brother that up to this moment was considered to die in their childhood) which made Straw Hat emotionally shaken. Due to the excess of emotions, Luffy couldn’t stop crying what didn’t go unnoticed by Zoro:

Though Zoro is usually lenient in regards to Luffy’s moods, the trio managed to run away from marines in disguises made by Kinemon and get close to Royal Palace while Luffy still cried without a proper explanation why. Zoro’s patience finally ran out:

Zoro not only told Luffy to get a grip of himself (“do you still want to go save Law?”), but also actually smacked him. This… is a very uncommon act for Zoro. Because yes, he never beat around the bush when it comes to telling hard truth nor hesitate to reprimand his nakama (or, just straight sum up their antics as “idiotic”), but hitting Luffy is mainly done by Nami and Usopp or Sanji. It can’t be said that Zoro never displayed “a rough approach” to Luffy before - because he did it too from time to time, especially in the earlier parts of the story yet after time-skip, I can’t recall any moment similar to this one. It is so uncommon now for him to lose patience in regard to Luffy’s antics and/or emotional “breakdown” to the point of hitting him and yet it happened when Roronoa and Luffy were in the middle of a rescue mission to save Law.

Luffy - a man for whom Zoro was ready to give up his life, and for whom he was so worried once he learned about Ace’s death - was a crying mess since he left the colosseum (and some time already have passed between that and now) and Zoro just smacked his captain in a way Nami and Usopp usually do. What speaks a lot about the level of distress / pressure he must have felt.

Of course, it is hard to tell for sure, if Zoro was so worried about Law because he already took to liking him, or was that more about saving ally as returning debt, since Law saved Nami, Chopper, Brook, Momonosuke and Sanji from Doflamingo. I personally think it is a mix of both reasons. Zoro always took seriously his duties and “promises” (and alliance is a form of unsaid promise) but for all Straw Hats, at this point of story Law was no more “just ally”. Whatever his reasons were, taking down Doflamingo was something very personal; a matter worth dying. Straw Hats, not even knowing the full story behind Law’s choice, did not want to let him down.

In the meanwhile, in the Royal Palace, Law was put on the throne of Corazon. It is hard to tell, was he truly unconscious or did he pretend to not bring the enemy's attention to himself but if the latter, he could listen to Doflamingo’s talk with (ex)King Riku about the situation. Luffy was stuck in the Colosseum, ignoring the plan. Franky was actually doing what he promised to do, but without any support, which was not good enough. Like Doffy said, the alliance's only pieces left were Pirate Hunter Zoro and samurai Kinemon whose location and intention were unknown. What wasn’t the best information but not the worst either - there was still hope Straw Hats had some plan in mind. Especially since Doflamingo did not mention at all what happened with the rest of the crew, so Sunny Go could sail already far away from Dressrosa.

On their way, the rescue team was aided by dwarf Wicca and Viola, who had personal reasons to hate Doflamingo. With her help, pirates get a chance to invade the palace by secret passage not known even to the enemy (chapter 735). The long stairs were going to take them inside lower part of building but Zoro came with smart shortcut by using “handmade lift”

While Kinemon was making sure Viola was not left behind, Zoro’s impatience showed up again by rushing Luffy - even though his captain wasn’t even fooling around and did as he was told.

Was Zoro in such a hurry because of the heavy pressure of time (Law captured by enemy willing to hurt him beyond necessary and Franky’s team already on move) or just simple desire for fight, hard to tell for sure. But in all fairness, looking how Zoro was willing to follow Viola to another secret passage rather than directly attacking enemy soldiers (in contrast to Luffy who simply punched the main door with gomu gomu no gigant pistol), seems like saving Law was a serious matter to him, not just an occasion for a good fight. His reaction to Luffy’s directness points to that too, because usually Zoro was first to follow the captain into fight and not so ago his idea to get inside the colosseum unnoticed was to cut it… gently.

Now, Zoro, Kinemon, Wicca and Viola were pretty shocked and / or pissed at Straw Hat. Zoro’s whole reaction was, well, extremely expressive.

Once Luffy made ruckus, Doflamingo was informed about intruders (chapter 736):

Since Doffy was still in the same room as Law, Trafalgar may or may not hear that Luffy (who was supposed to fight in Colosseum, to Doffy’s great surprise) and Zoro actually get inside the palace. To save him, instead of destroying SMILE Factory. What, in the current state of Law’s mind was the wrong decision to make.

Anyway, the rescue team was soon confronted by Pica, one of three top Doflamingo’s officers. Zoro stayed behind to fight with the enemy, so Luffy and Viola could head to the throne room, to save Law (chapter 740).

In meanwhile, Law clearly regained consciousness, listening in silence to Doffy’s rant about Straw Hats and their unexpected attack on Sugar and connection to the little Tontatta people.

Law of course couldn’t know what was going on since he had no information about Sugar’s role in enslaving people nor who the dwarves were. He said to Doflamingo he barely could understand what he was saying. Yet one look at his former boss (the biting nails reflex) could tell Trafagar how serious the situation was and maybe, just maybe the Straw Hats knew what they were doing which means that his plan wasn’t a total failure. Yet questioned, Law also said “I have nothing to do with them anymore… the alliance is over”.

Law could say that to confuse (mess) with already uneasy Doflamingo or because he truly believed the alliance was over - or maybe rather, should be, to not drag Straw Hats into their death? Most likely it was a mix of all reasons, but one thing was clear - Law didn’t wait for rescue.

Soon it turned out that Straw Hats dealt a serious blow to the enemy. Law probably didn’t know what was going on, but hearing Trebol crying(?) over the Den Den Mushi and seeing Doflamingo’s reaction was some sort of reassurance in the difficult situation of his.

A victory of the alliance that seriously reduced the enemy's advantage. Then out of nowhere, a one-legged man (Kyros) attacked Doflamingo and soon Monkey D. Luffy showed up to fight Shichibukai. Law’s reaction? So, so unhappy to see Luffy who should (alongside with Zoro) worry about destroying factory rather him (chapter 744):

Not that Luffy listened or cared for what Law had to say on the matter.

The situation get out of Doflamingo’s control to the point he decided to use “Birdcage” - something that clearly terrified Law (a detail that will be important later to talk about):

Luffy had a short lived skirmish with an enemy that ultimately ended by throwing Law, Luffy, Viola, KIng Riku, and Kyros out of the room by Pica (who went to aid Doflamingo). All of them landed in the place where Zoro already was (chapter 745), still looking for Pica who just disappeared during their fight. Doflamingo then started the Birdcage, intending to A) kill everyone (beside his own Family) before the truth would come out and B) make everyone play his “game” in which people murder each other (“Kill or be killed! All of the people of this country are now “hunters”!!! If you want to be saved… you have no choice but to take someone’s head!!!”) and C) set high prices on Straw Hat-Heart pirates and their allies. Zoro, Law and Luffy get on the list of course.

The next part: Protecting Law

[pandoraimperatrix]

randumbteahouse replied to your post “I’m in a bad mood and I want to write fluff people Please send me...”

BatCat babysitting little Mar'i and/or Jake Grayson?

 BatCat | DickKory | Plotless unashamed fluff | 1,8k | Read on AO3

“Hi, B!” Greeted Dick opening the door of his condo.

Bruce gave him his small barely there smile in answer to Dick’s huge all white teeth one.

“Hello, chum.”

Dick then turned to Bruce’s companion.

“And how are you, beautiful?”

Selina raised her gloved hands to Dick’s face, pulling him for a loud kiss full on the lips, to which he made crunched his entire face blushing horrendously to her delight.

“I’m wonderful, darling. So glad to see you. He’s so handsome, Bruce, look at him.”

“I’m looking.” Agreed Bruce with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Where’s the little kitten? And that gorgeous wife of yours?”

“They are in the nursery” Selina took her woollen coat off and handed wordlessly to Bruce, walking across Dick following his instruction, Bruce moved inside too, starting to undress from his heavy overcoat as well, but was interrupted, buy Dick’s arms hugging from the middle, he patted the younger man awkwardly on the head. “Thank you for coming.”

Bruce just grunted. Dick, freed his emotionally stunted dad and closed the door.

“Where…?” Asked Bruce holding the clothing.

“Oh, the coat hanger fell under the weight of Kory’s collection of handbags and I haven’t put the new on the wall, just throw your coats… Anywhere.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow to that noticing the apartment around him. Dick had never been an organized child, he had impeccable work ethics but his living grounds had always being a reason for arguments when he was growing up, and adding a baby in it… Well, he knew now why Dick invite Alfred to babysit yet. It was not a complete chaos, but it was far from acceptable by the butler’s standards.

“Come! We wanted you guys to see her while she was awake, but she woke up this morning super early for no reason, she was so full of energy, flying everywhere I think she crashed now.” He laughed.

“Flying?”

“Oh! I didn’t tell you?”

But they had reached the nursery door.

Kory was sitting on a very comfortable velvet chair, Alfred’s present. The baby on her arms had a darker shade of golden skin than her mother’s, and her long black eyelashes making shadows under her closed eyes and she suckled on her mother’s breast. Her little plump hand was holding firmly to Selina’s finger.

“Bruce, look how big she is…” Said Selina whispering.

“Greetings.” Koriand’r smiled to Bruce.

He nodded his head to her, approaching the women.

Bruce leaned in and with the back of two fingers, brushed softly the dark locks of the baby’s hair.

Selina turned her gaze from the baby to her husband, to others maybe he looked stoic as always, but by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed she could see the huge emotional response. She rubbed his bicep with her free hand.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Bruce cleaned his throat.

“Yes.” He answered, his voice croaky and deeper than the usual.

Selina and Kory exchanged an amused look.

“Do you want to hold her?” Asked Kory.

“Aren’t you feeding her now?”

“Oh no, she is done.” Smiled Kory. “She is already asleep.”

“I don’t want to disturb her.”

“She sleeps heavily. No need to worry.” Kory pulled her nipple from the baby’s mouth and covered herself, floated so she was in level with Bruce, and gently put the baby in his arms. Her daughter looking so little next to her massive grandfather.

Mar’i cooed softly getting comfortable but did not wake.

Dick sniffled loudly and the eyes turned to him.

“I’m sorry guys, I just-” he choked; Kory and Selina hugged him by each of his sides. Kory giggled. “Don’t laugh at my expense, Kory, not cool.” She kept giggling but tried to muffle it by kissing his hair. “I still can hear it!”

“I’m going to get ready.” Announced Kory untangling herself from the double hug and turning to her parents-in-law. “Please let yourselves feel at home, and thank you so much for doing this for us.”

“You’re welcome darling.” Said Selina as they watched Kory float out of the room.

“She’s still flying.” Noticed Bruce. When Kory hit the fourth trimester – turns out half-tamaranean pregnancies were a lot longer than human ones – her feet were so swollen that she just flied everywhere. After Dick commented on that Bruce started sending soft tall pillows so, she could put her feet up, compression stockings which somehow were the exactly shade of Kory’s alien skin, and one time Dick arrived home to find a whole spa and masseuse staff that he had not booked.

“Oh, she’s not in pain anymore… She’s just happy. Can’t keep her feet on the ground. My neck is cramping from looking up so much.” But by his thrilled tone he didn’t seen annoyed by his balloon wife at all.

“Where are you taking her, honey?” Asked Selina still hugging Dick and making little circles in his back.

“Nothing very fancy. We mostly just want to have an uninterrupted meal, then walk by Byke Beach a little before coming home to save you guys. And as Kory said, thank you so much, Mar’i a sweet baby and she was all we had to worry about it would be easy peasy, but things pile up and we could use a breather.”

“It’s our pleasure, darling. Bruce and I needed a break too, and you father have missed you so much, you should see him showing the pictures you sent us to everyone, he is so proud.”

“Is that true, B?” Asked Dick beaming.

Bruce cleaned his throat loudly and then looked down to the baby terrified he had disturbed her, but she didn’t even fuss. When he looked up again Selina and Dick were looking at him with glazed eyes.

He cleaned his throat again, this time in a softer tone.

 “I can’t stop looking at her, Bruce, she’s so cute.” Said Selina perched on Mar’i crib. Dick and Kory were gone, and with the baby sleeping, Selina found out that there wasn’t actually a lot to do.

“Let the baby sleep, Selina.” Mumbled Bruce typing something on his phone, he had extracted Selina five times from the nursery in the forty minutes Dick and Kory were gone.

“What are you doing?”

Selina clenched her eyes, Bruce looked away, guilty as hell and pocketed the phone.

“You were working on your phone wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Oh my god, Bruce!”

“I wasn’t. Look.” He showed her his phone. “Tim sent me a photo of a frog in a skateboard.”

Selina’s face was completely voided of emotion for a fraction of a second before she let out a loud laugh… That was followed by baby cries.

“Shit.”

 The baby was not stopping crying. Bruce thought that she would recognise them from all the facetime calls, he was wrong. Mar’i knew that he and Selina were not her parents, and she was not happy about it.

“Is she is pain? Do you think she is in pain?”

“I don’t think so. Dick said she was in perfect health, but it’s hard to know without proper medical equipment.”

“Try feeding her again.”

Bruce took the warmed milk bottle – noticing the colour was darker than regular human milk supposed to be, it looked like light caramel. He made a mental note to take a sample to look to it in his lad later – and offered to the baby girl, but she slapped the bottle away with a strength no human six months old would have. No adult either. The bottle flew across the room and broke into the drywall.

“I’ll pay for that.”

“How don’t you know how to make a baby stop crying? You are a huge nerd, you know everything! Didn’t you raise like fifty-two kids or something?”

“They were never that young.” And to be fair, when they cried, he mostly handed them to Alfred and later Dick.

“We should call Dick.”

“No.”

“What?”

“We are solving this, Selina.”

“How?!”

Bruce took a deep breath and tried to remember everything he knew about pre-language children. He read some articles to try to communicate with Cassandra years ago, mostly applied to babies and was not useful to him at the time, but maybe it would be useful now. He recalled something about tonic dialogue, that meant the first form of communication was from touch. Basically, holding a baby while having a tense body was not good, because the baby could feel the discomfort and respond to this with distress. So, he tried to relax. Lower his heartrate. Mar’i didn’t stop crying, but her loud screaming and the fussing were gone.

“Good! Good! I don’t know what you did but it’s working.”

“Try to distract her.”

“By doing what?”

“I don’t know Selina, why do I have to know everything?”

“You are the Batman!”

“Not now, I’m not.”

“Ba mum” mumbled Mar’i between cried.

Bruce and Selina exchanged a shocked look.

“Yes, kitten. Granddaddy is Batman.”

“Ba mum!” The baby said angrily, her bluish green eyes flooded with tears.

Selina sent Bruce a terrified look. He just shook his head, also having no idea. Mar’i’s lip trembled and the crying returned with revenge.

“Hold her a little.”

“Me?!”

But before she could protest further, the baby was already in her arms, bright orange, sobbing against her shirt spreading snot and tears everywhere.

Bruce was calling someone.

“But you said you were not calling her parents!”

“I’m not. Alfred, finally, I have a predicament.”

He was silent for a while, his face rumpled in concentration, then he turned off with a “thank you”.

“What did he say?”

“Mar’i has a favourite toy. It’s a handmade Batman doll made by Damian. That’s what she mean by ‘Ba mum’.”

“I want to gush about how cute this whose sentence was but she is pulling my hair pretty hard, and I’m grieving my shirt, this was Prada’s limited edition. Let’s find that doll.”

 Half an hour later and no sign of the doll, Bruce was going mad, Selina’s head was aching, and Mar’i proved that her human-tamaranean hybrid lungs were very efficient. They fell heavily on the living room’s sofa.

“Bruce… What do we do?”

He just gave her a defeated look.

“Ba mum! Ba mum! BA MUM!”

“Oh kitten, I don’t know where your ‘Ba mum’ went.” Said Selina drying the baby’s tears then her head shot up. “I have an idea.”

“I’m willing to try anything.”

“You brought a suit, didn’t you?”

Bruce pretended not to know what she was talking about.

“I’ve brought changes of clothing, yes.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Selina…”

“So what we can’t find her doll? You are the real deal!” She said exasperated.

“That’s not what my suit if for, Selina.”

“I couldn’t care less what your suit is for” she covered the baby’s ears “we had sex plenty of times while you were in that suit don’t pretend you never abused its function before.”

He sighed.

 Two hours after Kory and Dick returned home to find Selina sleeping sitting on the sofa, Bruce in his full Batman gear also sleeping, but lying on his back and using Selina’s lap as a pillow, and Mar’i belly down on her grandfather’s chest, drool all over the bat insignia.

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

Tonic dialogue is a real thing I learnt on uni. I have no idea what the frog in a skateboard was about, I just like the idea of Bruce’s kids sending him random memes and funny pictures.

[shedreamsofstars]

our union is a secret i’m hoping, dreaming, lying to keep - chapter one

you've all heard of 'pretending to be married when you're not', now get ready for 'actually married but pretending you're not'

When Tohru and Kyo accidentally find themselves married, they must keep their new union a secret from their friends and family. That's easier said than done when you're both newlywed dorks who just want to spend some quality time with one another whilst said friends and family are always one step away from discovering the truth.

Next chapter

"Oh, Kyo-kun!" Tohru exclaimed with a soft gasp, tugging on her boyfriend's hand to grab his attention. "There's a cart over there with handmade jewellery, can we go look at it?"

Kyo blinked at her slowly, watching as her simple white dress fluttered in the breeze before following her gaze towards a small wheeled cart loaded with all kinds of sparkly pieces crafted from metal and gemstones.

"Yeah, course we can. We can do whatever you want," he said, nodding for her to lead the way.

After spending the better part of two month's apart from Tohru to work at his new job and complete all the paperwork for their new home, Kyo had finally received the key to their apartment earlier in the week. Neither him nor Tohru could stand the idea of spending another day apart, so the pair had moved in the next day.

Whilst he'd been at work all week, Tohru had been decorating the house and searching for jobs nearby and had been ecstatic at discovering that there would be a spring festival in a nearby town. Kyo had agreed to the idea instantly. This was their first weekend together in months and he planned to enjoy every second of it with his girl.

"Let's go!" Tohru said excitedly, rushing ahead so fast that he had to jog to keep from being pulled along after her. The pair of them made quite a sight as they moved through the colourful crowds of the town festival hand in hand.

Kyo had opted for his usual plain shirt and jeans combo, but with the weather being warmer than expected, he was starting to regret having gone for the black shirt. He undid the top button with his free hand as they arrived at the stall, watching on in vague amusement as Tohru spaced out at the sheer variety of jewellery on display.

She marvelled at the gemstone rings, the sparkly earrings and the intricate necklaces with an intensity that could only mean she was picking out what would suit her friends the best, but when her attention shifted to the bracelets scattered haphazardly across the front of the stall, Kyo's gaze turned wary.

Ever since he'd been freed from having to wear his own beads, seeing anything aside from a watch on a person's wrist left a sour taste in his mouth. Thankfully she didn't dwell on them too long, shifting her gaze back to a pair of earrings she thought would look nice on Kisa.

"What do you think?" she asked, holding them up to the light.

Kyo squinted to get a good look at them. They were small and pretty and looked like something little Kisa would refuse to ever take off. Tohru really did have a strange knack for picking out the perfect gifts for people.

"I think they'll look great on Kisa," he started, holding them up towards Tohru's ear. "But … they'll look even nicer on you."

The instant blush that fluttered to life on her cheeks had his heart skipping a beat. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately – surely that couldn't be good for you?

"You're so silly Kyo-kun," she said happily, handing over the earrings and the money to the vendor. "I can't wait until we have a housewarming party and I get to give presents to everyone."

"Uh, aren't you supposed to receive gifts at a housewarming party, not give them?" he said blankly as Tohru thanked the vendor for the earrings. He took the bag from her, swapping it out for his hand as they began to wander away.

"Yes, but I just can't imagine everyone visiting and leaving empty handed. And gifting is so much fun, why would we miss out on that!"

Kyo shook his head but he didn't say anything further. If gifting things to others made her happy, then that was all that mattered to him. "Oh," he said, bringing them to a stop. "I'm sorry Tohru. I didn't ask you if you liked anything for yourself back there."

"Oh that's okay, I wasn't looking for myself anyway."

"Are you sure, because we can go back, no problem?" he assured her, beginning to turn back. Tohru refused to move though and he turned back to her.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said with a sweet smile, leaning in towards him a little as she spoke.

"Well now I just feel bad for not paying enough attention before," he grumbled, annoyed at himself for getting distracted by his own thoughts.

"It really is fine Kyo-kun. Besides, you can make it up to me by getting us some kakigori. It really is quite warm today and they always have so many different flavours, I never know which to choose!"

"Oh, they have that here?"

Tohru nodded. "I saw someone eating some earlier. They were coming from that direction" she said, pointing towards the other end of the street. There was a lot of people in the way so he couldn't quite see across, but he did spot another festival goer with a small pot of shaved ice.

"Well come on then, we haven't got any time to lose," Kyo declared as the pair of them set off in that direction. They made it about half-way across the street before they found themselves coming to an abrupt stop when a crowd of people blocked the walkway completely.

"I wonder why everyone's just stopped here?" Tohru asked glancing around for some sort of explanation. "It looks like they all want to go to that shrine over there. Do you know whose it is?"

Kyo shook his head. "No, but we can go check it out. I know you like to leave an offering whenever you can." He didn't really mind taking a detour on the way to dessert.

"Hmm," Tohru agreed. "I'd like that."

"Alright," Kyo said, catching sight of a small woman dressed in plain clothing who seemed to be attempting to wrangle the crowd outside the shrine. Tightening his grip on Tohru's hand so as not to lose her, he began to work his way towards the woman.

"Excuse me," he called out as he got close enough. "Is this-"

He never got to finish his question. The woman let out a high shriek of excitement the moment she set eyes on him, her wide eyes darting between him and Tohru.

"Oh goodness! It seems we have the perfect pair of volunteers for our last spot right here!"

"Uh, volunteers?" Tohru mumbled beside him, cocking her head in confusion.

"You are here to visit the Musubi no Kami Shrine, yes?"

"Yes, but-" Kyo started before being interrupted again.

"Lovely, then if you'll just follow me up these stairs into the courtyard we can begin right away," the woman declared, shuffling up the stairs with the energy of someone half her age.

"Oh, okay," Tohru stammered as the crowds parted to let them through, ushering them after the woman with kind smiles. "I don't know what's going on, but it seems kind of rude not to follow."

"Yeah," Kyo agreed as the pair began to ascend the steps after the woman, who he now assumed was a shrine maiden. What harm could come from entering a shrine anyway?

"Ah, here they are! Come to the centre with the others my dears, that's it," the woman said as she led them to the middle of the shrine courtyard. People had gathered along the edges, but there were three other couples standing in the centre.

The shrine priest stood to the right of the altar, wearing the usual traditional attire whilst the short woman who led them here took up a spot to the left. The altar itself was piled high with offerings from fruit to coins, all neatly placed along the slab of stone.

"Excuse me sir?"

Kyo tore his gaze away from the front of the shrine to find another woman dressed similarly to the one by the altar holding out a sheet of paper for him. "I just need you and the lady to sign these before we begin the ceremony."

"Um … yeah, sure?" Kyo said politely, accepting the pen and scratching out his name at the bottom and handing it over to Tohru.

"You must want to lock this pretty lady down before she changes her mind, huh," she said to Kyo with a conspiratorial wink.

Kyo laughed nervously in response before wondering when exactly he had picked up Tohru's little habit. He was so distracted by the thought he didn't fully consider what exactly it was the pair of them had just signed their names to.

"What's going on Kyo-kun?" Tohru whispered from beside him once the lady had left.

"I think we just got dragged into the middle of some sort of feudal re-enactment, but I'm not sure." He was fairly certain this was some sort of re-enactment at least. The papers were likely just permission to be included.

Tohru let out an excited gasp. "Like a play? Oh, how exciting!"

Of course she would think so, Kyo thought with a smile before the priest at the altar drew everyone's attention by hitting the large gong beside him. The crowds fell silent as the ring resonated across the shrine, dying out by the second.

"Welcome one and all. Now that we have enough willing participants, let's get this going shall we. I'm sure our couples are eager to get this over and done with."

There was a low chuckle of agreement from the crowds.

"Alright, if you could all hold your partners hands in front of you, then we'll begin."

Tohru and Kyo did as they were told, facing each other and holding hands as the priest went through the ceremony step by step. The re-enactment was pretty simple Kyo thought as they followed along with the other couples.

There was some sake ritual that he didn't quite understand, and the recitation of a prayer, but it wasn't until a shrine maiden appeared with paper rings that Kyo figured out just what ceremony they were re-enacting for the crowds.

He felt his cheeks heat up instantly, but if Tohru caught onto the same thing, she didn't seem to show it. She just seemed blissfully happy at being able to partake in something where she didn't have to be a mean stepsister.

With the priest's speech over, the crowd erupted into cheers of joy and cherry blossom petals were flung into the air, hanging like pink crystals in the sky before showering down around everyone in the shrine.

"Oh, I think we're done," Tohru said as the other couples embraced around them. "That was so fun!" she smiled.

"Congratulations you two, I hope you live long happy lives together," the lady beside them said, handing over the two rings for the pair of them to do with as they pleased before shuffling away.

"Um … thank you?" Tohru said, accepting them with a warm smile. "Kyo-kun, look at how pretty these are, and we both get one too!"

"Uh … yeah," Kyo replied, his cheeks still burning.

"Oh goodness, you two really do look so wonderful together," someone cooed from behind him and Kyo turned to see the shrine maiden he had spoken to outside. "How romantic that your wedding anniversary will fall on the first day of spring forevermore!"

"Our wedding anniversary?" Tohru said looking as lost as Kyo felt. A sudden air of panic overcame him, and the blood rushed to his ears as he finally caught onto the woman's words.

"Those were … real wedding vows?"

"Of course. We may do on the spot weddings, but they are perfectly legal and binding," the woman said happily before pausing in thought. "Wait … you did know that right? I mean, the papers you signed clearly said-"

"Yeah, yeah, of course we did," Kyo said hurriedly, lying through the grimace that threatened to overtake his face. He turned towards Tohru who was doing a significantly worse job of hiding her own panic.

"Definitely. Of course we did. How silly would it be if we thought it was just pretend the whole time," Tohru babbled, that nervous laugh of hers resurfacing. She likely would have continued to talk, but Kyo squeezed her hand firmly and her panic seemed to subside a little.

"Oh good, I thought we'd done something terrible there for a second. Becoming husband and wife is nerve wracking yet exciting adventure so you have nothing to be worried about. I must go and congratulate the others before they leave, but I shall leave you with these papers to fill in and send off should you need them."

"Papers for what?" Kyo asked a little suspiciously. They'd already accidentally signed themselves into becoming life partners with the last papers someone handed them, was this one to take their souls hostage too?

"There's your marriage certificate and the paperwork to legally change your names should you require it. We only hold a marriage license at the shrine, so that extra work will fall to you unfortunately. Good luck to you both on your new journey, although from the way you look at each other I hardly think you need it."

The lady inclined her head politely before shuffling away, leaving Kyo and Tohru alone in the middle of the shrine. Kyo took a deep breath as he took a moment to take in everything the woman had just said, his fingers tightening around the scroll of paper she'd handed him.

"Um … Kyo-kun?"

He glanced down to see Tohru watching him curiously.

"Yeah Tohru?

"We're … really … married?"

"We are," he replied quietly, careful not to let any inflection colour his words. They had never spoken about marriage in so many words, so he had no idea how she would react to the news or what she would be feeling in that moment.

Probably confused like he was, but Kyo also found a little kernel of happiness inside of him too at the thought of knowing he was tied to Tohru in a significant way.

"We're married," Tohru repeated a little more assuredly this time, the small smile on her face widening by the second. "Kyo-kun, we're really married!"

This time Tohru rushed forward, clinging to the lapels of his shirt as she pressed herself closer to him with a beaming grin on her face. Her closeness was all he needed for the kernel to pop, and suddenly Kyo's own grin matched hers as the happiness puffed up inside him.

"I know, I can't believe it." Her face dropped a little at his words and he felt the need to clarify immediately. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy. I always wanted-" Kyo cut himself off a little embarrassed as Tohru watched him curiously.

"You did?"

"Of course … eventually at least. Did you?"

"I really did," she said, her voice soft and sincere.

His arms were around her in an instant as he kissed her gently, smiling against her lips as she struggled to keep from giggling. "I'm actually going to get to call you my wife," he whispered, running a reverent hand through her hair.

As much as he wanted the moment to last, it didn't take long for reality to come crashing down around him and Kyo's bliss turned to dread in the blink of an eye. He groaned incoherently, releasing Tohru in favour of grabbing his knees with his hands.

"Kyo-kun, are you okay!?" Tohru said worriedly, placing a comforting hand against his shoulder. "Kyo-kun? Oh no, is this too much at once? Oh no. It's okay, I'm sure we can fix this. We'll tell them it was a mistake and-"

Kyo stood and pulled Tohru into his chest to silence her, holding her in a loving caress to keep her from jumping from one wrong conclusion to the next.

"You could never be a mistake Tohru. I couldn't be happier that we're husband and wife, however it happened but … it's just … Master is going to kill me for not inviting him to my wedding!"

Tohru squeaked in alarm as Kyo's words shattered her little bubble of happiness. "Oh no, he'll be so upset. What are we going to do? This is terrible. This is really bad"

"I know, I'm such a terrible son. What if he doesn't-" He stopped as Tohru's finger pressed against his lip.

"Don't say that Kyo-kun. Master would never think that of you. He's kind and he loves you so much. This was just a simple mistake. He'll understand, I just know he will.

"Yeah maybe but … oh god," Kyo said, suddenly looking more alarmed than even before as the faces of Arisa Uotani and Saki Hanajima came to the forefront of his mind. "Those two…" He shuddered violently, unable to finish his thought.

"Oh, Uo-chan and Hana-chan," Tohru said as she caught on to his line of thinking, her nervous laugh bursting through. "This really is bad Kyo-kun."

... xxx ...

thanks for reading! come join us and talk kyoru on discord, invite in replies <3

Next chapter

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on The White People Waambulance, Chapters 18 and 19

• Sorry this QT is coming out so late, guys. I regret to say my heart wasn't really in this one...and it hasn't been with regards to my QTs for a while. This one might be my last, unless we count me finishing them off for the (not rewritten) Book 1. It's been two years since I began, and the last two books made the process honestly really exhausting.

• I clubbed the two finale chapters together because I really couldn't be bothered to do separate ones for both.

• In fact...I won't be doing any of what I have been doing for my QTs so far. I'll be honest to you: I usually do multiple replays, the last few in tandem with the other routes on YouTube. I go through the scenes one by one. I keep note of differences and variations and carefully choose screenshots that will reflect the gist of the scenes.

But I couldn't be bothered to do any of that this time. I pressed the "continue" and then the "end book" buttons as soon as I finished my first run of those chapters. I'm drained, guys. And I don't think I'll be coming back to the TRH series at least, not even for Liam or Hana or Kiara. Maybe my mind will change by the time the second book comes out (update from present-day Lizzy: no it didn't) but I'm not counting on it. And you'll probably know why by the time this QT ends.

• TW: Discussions on racism, both fandom racism and from within the narrative. The last section of this QT is going to be...pretty heavy, guys.

There's also going to be a lot of anti-Drake, anti-Olivia, anti-Madeleine and anti-Penelope content here, so if you like any of those characters...well, you've been warned.

The ensuing post is going to be LONG, and I know a lot of you have good reasons not to deal with long posts, so here's a tldr:

1. The TRR writing team stick to their weird obsession for jobless whiny white men.

2. Read this book once and you'll feel like you're drowning in an ocean of white tears.

3. WOC continue to get scraps from the writing team, even as they boast of being diverse and inclusive. In fact, they're regularly treated as mere tokens, exotic eye-candy or non-entities, while their behaviour is measured on standards that are very different from their white counterparts (this happens in other books as well).

...okay I wasn't expecting for the tldr to be long too 😅

• Me @ my QTs then:

Me @ my QTs now:

• I'll probably be finishing off my TRR Book 1 QT series when I'm a little less burnt out, but for now this is where it ends, I guess.

• So...here is to summarize the last two chapters: Accident happens. LIs mad. Paparazzi sad (but largely get away scot-free). MC and baby safe. At the Council meeting Kiara slam dunks the murderer of Liam's mother with the style and elegance this fandom still refuses to acknowledge her for. The MC is nice to her for like half a second. Last Apple Ball. New clothes for everyone as if they had a Diwali bumper sale the week before or something. Godfrey is somehow responsible for the security (who thought this was a good idea) and seeing the Auvernese Royal Guard outside our doors is SO not-creepy.

We get to see if we impressed our Auvernese and Monterriso allies enough. Bradshaw compliments Kiara for like half a second. Olivia sees the dude from the Q&A session (Jin) at the Ball and (if you pay) you get to see her catch, interrogate and lowkey flirt with him.

Leona and Bianca make it to the ball (where is Bartie Sr. Where are Xinghai and Lorelei. Where is Regina) and this time the narrative makes sure to shoehorn a plot element into their presence here: Leona is there so we can do something about the reveal that she constantly ratted us out to the press for money. ("oh look! Walker Ranch was plot related after all! We have a reason (albeit a flimsy, paper-thin one) to set 9 whole chapters in Texas. Even though we had to literally come up with this bit in the last minute, because really - all we wanted to do as a writing team was nut collectively over Drake Walker")

(I also can't believe that between the time I wrote this line and the time this QT finally came out - they literally found a way to re-fucking-write Book 1 so they could nut collectively over Drake Walker earlier)

• Why were we required to dress down in Texas for these assholes when they couldn't even bother to dig up their Sunday best for this ball??? Oh right, they're Walkers. Hypocrisy runs in the family.

• Good thing is you can choose to banish Leona if you want. She's angry about it for a second then accepts it and leaves. But like what is the point of banishing her when she hardly even bothers to come there in the first place? She's not going to be bawling her eyeballs out saying "boohoo, they threw me out of this country that I spent like five minutes in and never even wanted to visit in the first place".

• Bianca is present at the end of Chapter 18 mainly to deliver to us a plot point at the very last minute: a clue about where we could find proof about Queen Eleanor's murder. Bianca mentions conversations Jackson had with her, and a secret room somewhere. Her leaving the palace and abandoning her children is addressed, and the MC gets to berate her. It's...short.

• Why this important piece of information was given to Bianca when idk LEO could have pitched in and spoken about it, no one knows. Oh wait. I keep forgetting. Bianca is Drake's mother. That's why.

• Okay so Amalas valiantly found out about Leona's involvement in this and gave us tangible proof via photographs. But we're kiiiinda forgetting that the scrutiny and privacy invasions were happening even before we hauled ass to Walker Ranch? Who was responsible for those? Who was the "source" that the Chapter 17 paparazzo was referring to, the one that mentioned they would triple the price for more photos of the Queen/Mother of the Heir (Coz like why would she do that. She's already broke)? How did Amalas come by this information so easily and why was she really that invested? Why is no one asking these questions? Why isn't the group asking these questions? Why are they stupid. Jesus, they're all so stupid. HOW ARE YOU SO STUPID, SQUAD.

• Shortly after they get rid of Leona and Bianca, the rest of the group give the happy couple a choice of toys for the nursery - and that's our final nursery purchase. You can either go for the corgi - which is on brand for the series by now I think - or the lion, which is seen as very Cordonian.

• More party shenanigans. We're nice to Kiara for another half-second. Kiara arranges a photoshoot for us. The team can't pretend to give a fuck anymore about its fans so they will ask us to pay for an edit that I've seen millions of edit-creators in the fandom do wayyyy better. Like let's be honest - compare the engagement shoot pics (messy as they were) to the shoots we eventually got this book. You can see the difference. You can tell which one required more work.

• Anyway, if you choose this scene you wind up going back to the ballroom, dance with your spouse, aaaaand it's time for another diamond option. This time your spouse gives you something you've been craving (mousse parfait for the Liam MC, chocolate chip cookies for the Hana MC, handmade chocolates for the Maxwell MC and a choice between bacon and a veg version of it for the Drake MC. Damn, team TRR. Your favouritism is showing). The couple also writes a letter to the baby that the child can read growing up, in a bit of a parallel to Eleanor's letter to Liam that we see at the end of the chapter.

• After this, Liam reveals he has been pondering over what Bianca said, and wants to find out where they could find that secret room. Cue Liam's own flashback scene for free. Godfrey bringing to Queen the same goblet that the RoE MC found in a flea market in Book 2 for Regina (or perhaps just a similarish one). Liam and Eleanor reciting a rhyme that turns out to have clues for the secret room.

• To give the team credit, they seem to have (finally) put some thought into this. Like this actually feels like Liam's scene. Not one that delivers information about his family but is really about another character. They seem to incorporate all the things Eleanor seemed to be known for - things that were hardly addressed in the books when it came to talk of her. She is shown with a love for books given that books and poetry form an important part of the clues she leaves for Liam. One of the books is about foraging, which is unsurprising considering her love for gardens that was established in Book 1 of TRR.

• So...like...nice job but why was practically everything about Eleanor (including the way she'd stand up to Constantine, her displeasure at the sound of Godfrey and Bartie's names, her nature that Liam not only inherited but also learned) left only for your finale? Why no buildup? Why was I seeing you lot constantly pandering to Drake's family the entire time? Why do I know way, way more about Jackson than I do about Eleanor whose story this WAS? Why is she and her son suddenly getting this burst of attention at the tail end??

• They still manage to push young!Drake into a scene focusing on Liam and Eleanor, so we can see how Eleanor's teaching of how to be a responsible royal began to make inroads into Liam's way of thinking. It's the ultimate irony, that Liam took his mother's advice so much to heart that he lets Drake stay in his home, eat his food, and complain about those dastardly nobles to his heart's content for free.

Poor Eleanor in her grave is like

• Very fitting, how Constantine's proposal to Eleanor happens in the hedge maze, very much like Liam's first declaration of love in Book 1.

• If you're married to Liam, you get an extra letter that's addressed to Liam's future wife. She clearly knew her days were to be numbered by the time she gave birth to that second child at least.

• Lmao @ how the team somehow managed to remember that Eleanor would have been Leo's stepmother too. He's mentioned a couple of times. They didn't have enough time to develop a sprite for young!Leo but somehow had all the time and resources to make one for young!Savannah who had literally no purpose in Drake's flashback scene? Hmm. Hmm.

• They somehow manage to find the twin to the RoE MC's gifted goblet that Godfrey gave Eleanor the night she died, and Liam reveals that he's been obsessed with poisons enough to know that it wasn't the drink that was poisoned, it was the cup itself. Everyone is shook.

• Love that extra little detail about Liam's obsession with learning about poisons and how it's a sign of how deeply Eleanor's death affected him. But tell me honestly if you remember this plot point coming up even once before in any significant way. Even during the one time a person is poisoned in the previous book (by the laws of karma, the victim in this instance is Godfrey's only daughter) Liam shows very few signs of this "obsession". At a time when he has also lost a father. Convenient how something that could have added more depth to Liam is kept aside until there's a scene where his knowledge is required. Convenient indeed.

• I kind of understand why Liam acts on impulse, okay. The man just discovered who murdered his mum, at least some amount of irrationality is allowed (esp considering he hardly got to express ANYTHING when his goddamn father died). But you'd think Liam's friends would hold him back and help him think this through? Convince him that there are more effective ways to confront and get a confession out of Godfrey who after is in charge of security at the moment? You seriously think charging into the ballroom and suddenly stripping this man of his titles is going to actually work??? You couldn't figure out how to make him vulnerable instead so that he wouldn't be able to escape???

• I mean like, sure, one could always rationalize it all as "well see Lizzy, they needed a dramatic end to this story and they needed to wrap this mystery up quick". But there were other ways they could have spread it out than make it all sound so...so random. And you bet we all know why the narrative had to scramble around last minute to solve this. It's because we spend half the damn book in a dilapidated ranch with a shit family!

• Anyway, Godfrey escapes...and the MC tells her spouse that she's going into labour after...two contractions? Um. Okay.

• So. That ends Book 1 of this new series. And with it my QTs, for this series at least. My QTs for Book 1 (the OG, not the rewrite) might continue, but I'd need to repeat my failplay again because I lost most of those screenshots 😭

General Thoughts on the Book:

• So far, this is what I can see as happening in the next book:

- The birth, obviously

- Any extra perks from our purchases (ie. the nursery and the garden)

- Subplots involving the LIs' conflicts regarding parenthood and their own childhoods

- The mystery behind Eleanor's death isn't quite over yet, nor is the truth behind the constant paparazzi presence in TRH. Leona was the scapegoat this time around, but how did Amalas get all this information so quickly?

- Where is Eleanor's other child? Olivia's investigations may or may not lead to that answer. I'm pretty sure Jin might be involved as well.

- Another possibility is that Madeleine may give us important information since she was potentially aware that Eleanor was pregnant at the time.

- The mystery behind Jackson's death and what he knew regarding Eleanor's condition.

- What part did Bartie Sr have to play in all this? How involved was Constantine in the murder (if in fact he was)? What more dark secrets will we learn about Constantine, Godfrey and Bartie Sr during this time? What ultimately caused the breakdown in Constantine and Jackson's relationship, since Drake mentions Jackson being around when Regina was Queen as well?

- Speaking of Regina, how involved was she in any of this? We know she was Godfrey's cousin-in-law and Bartie Sr made a comment on her during the announcement about the heir, and that she married Constantine a couple years after Eleanor's death, but was she aware of any of this or was she largely out of the major plot and brought in later to cement Godfrey's position and power?

- I'd mention the possibility that Lorelai could know something, but they didn't really give anyone connected to Hana any time at all, so I have my doubts.

- Operation Swan, and possibly a visit to Monterisso. Liam's younger sibling must be in one of these places but my guess is on Monterisso.

- I'm guessing the team will write a nice wedding for Penelope and Ezekiel next book, while Kiara continues to get scraps from the same team.

- Drake and Olivia will continue to eat into the plot. Madeleine will join this unholy trinity as well because they've set the stage for her to have plenty of angst.

With that over, these were my thoughts once this book was finished:

WHERE ARE THE DUCHESSES?

Remember how, back in Book 3, we all marvelled at the number of women in this country who were in positions of power? Adeleide and Emmeline were powerful duchesses while their husbands were secondary figures, and Joelle though married into a noble family is an influential artist and - according to Liam - the embodiment of King Fabian's values. It seemed like, despite the underlying sexism and racism in the story, women were at least at the forefront of Cordonian politics.

This is virtually gone in TRH1. Godfrey (who wasn't even interested in Krona in the first place, much less Cordonia) and Landon (whose only concern seemed to be Penelope, leaving Emmeline to manage the duchy) have a seat in the Council. In fact we never even see either of these woman in the book. I can maybe understand the logic behind not appointing Adeleide, but the fact that Emmeline is passed over for her far-less -qualified husband is a mystery to me!

Also, has anyone noticed how white-male-centered the whole Eleanor story is? Notice how we never see Eleanor's friends, besides Jackson? We never see any of the courtly ladies of that era? She's the Queen. She'd have her own court. I find it impossible that Eleanor would have no interactions of importance among her own goddamned court, that Joelle, Emmeline or Adeleide wouldn't even be mentioned in her story thus far. It's fascinating that forget being part of her story - these women are largely forgotten in the book itself.

(Note: It's also important to add that none of Kiara's family - besides Zeke - makes an appearance this book. At all. One member of Penelope's family and one member of Madeleine's family is in the council, but we never really see or hear anything from Kiara's, even though Hakim was Constantine's old friend and Joelle could have easily been connected to Eleanor, given that Eleanor was exactly the kind of ruler Joelle would have loved and respected.

While we're on that subject, Lorelai could have been connected to Eleanor as well - considering that we know next to nothing about her years in Shanghai. There were ways Hana's story could have been tied into the overall plot as well that were largely ignored. The fact that both the main and secondary WOCs presented opportunities for better plot and story, and despite that they were largely ignored in the books...I think that says a lot. But I will get into more of that in detail in a different section).

LI SPACE AND STORY

• Now...as we all know, The TRR/TRH series is primarily a romance-focused book first, with an underlying plot about royalty and politics. So it makes sense to evaluate the book based on what it gives its love interests. That includes the number of scenes they get, and the kind of focus their story is given. So...here's the rundown of how that goes in TRH Book 1:

Liam: Overall, not too bad. He gets one individual scene, a free and paywalled childhood scene (though the free one is essential for the group's realization of who killed Eleanor). The letter his mother writes to Liam includes an extra section towards the end, meant for the MC who marries him. However, we must note that a lot of this "attention" was thrust into the very final chapter of this book, and 99% of the same book didn't exactly make an attempt to explore his inner thoughts on anything - his mother's death, the dealings with the foreign countries, his political activities. Eleanor being pregnant came from a scene that made Olivia the center of attention, the MC had the opportunity to ask him how he was feeling only once or twice, and most of the time the narrative relegated it all to "the matter is still being investigated". It's a slight improvement from the absolute lack of concern the MC and the narrative showed about Liam's emotional state post his father's death in Book 3, but not much.

Variations wise, the team did step up on the basic ones for most of the LIs, so clearly we've moved past the days of seeing cut-paste scenes and the likes of Liam and Hana saying "I'm so dumb in love with you". However, in playthroughs where the MC is Liam's wife and Queen of Cordonia, her lack of genuine concern for her country and lack of curiosity about the place she's ruling, sticks out like a sore thumb. The fandom loves to highlight how the plot is "written for Liam" or is "easier in Liam's playthrough", but besides his own child being the heir, nothing else from Book 3 onwards seems like it was particularly written with him in mind.

Drake: Hoo boy. So 2019 was clearly the year that many people didn't believe me about Drake eating up space, and the year they had to eat their words because in TRH it was too obvious to be ignored. On an overall scale you cannot avoid the extra perks even his LI scenes got - his Valtoria scene in Chapter 4 was longer, set in a different place and he was allowed to expand on his decision to say yes to Liam's request in a way Hana and Maxwell never were. We learned way more about his familial relationships and dynamics than all the LIs combined. His childhood scene was the first to be given variants depending on whether the MC was his wife or not. His sister's wedding takes up almost half the book, leaving little to no space for either the intrigue, or even the pregnancy that was supposed to be THE most important part of the book.

An insane amount of retconning was done to emphasize strongly on the "marshmallow" part of his personality, having him state time and again that for the MC he can even "sport a tutu if you said you had a thing for the Sugar Fairy". Part of these changes could be attributed to the backlash the team got for having him call a pink cake "girly".

There is a strong possibility that Jackson might be explored further in the second book, and it's no surprise considering that he's the one parent that is most talked about in the series. The book looks like it was truly written with Drake in mind, with a heavy dose of Olivia, and everyone else was added as a bit of an afterthought.

Maxwell: Pretty awful treatment for a character that the head writer of the team claims to like. He has no individual character scenes, and one childhood scene where his older brother Bertrand is given more focus. Ironically, Maxwell was more wary of Bartie Sr in TRR Book 2 than Bertrand was, but somehow they changed this little detail so that Maxwell could be written out of his own story.

His LI scenes were also not given much effort - some were badly written, and some scenes (like the free ones) showed little to no variations between the friendly and romantic playthroughs. One that comes to mind is the baby announcement photoshoot, which was so poorly done it added nothing of value to the character or the relationship.

Like the last book, Maxwell isn't allowed much development in TRH1, and he's still forced into a largely "court jester" role in the story. This reflects very poorly on him in certain situations, such as the chapter where we finally get glimpses of his book. The aim was to be humourous and light about the events of the series, but he comes out of it sounding thoroughly insensitive towards his friends, none of whose consent he took to write this self-centered pile of garbage.

However, there is hope that they might do things a bit better for him next book, if the rewrite of him in TRR 2.0 was anything to go by. However, it would be awful if they tried to do a better job of him and then left out Hana. Speaking of which...

Hana: I'm going to begin this section with a comparison to another character, someone who should have been treated as a secondary character - Olivia.

Olivia in this book has 2 character scenes (they're very plot driven, but they also explore her outside of her friendship with the MC and dynamic with the group). The spy scene with Auvernese royalty, and the scene with Jin, the Auvernese spy. An entire chapter is spent in her duchy (by now we've seen Lythikos four times and I'm now sick of the place), and she winds up taking over Maxwell's Q&A scene as well.

So that's technically 2.5 scenes AND a childhood scene that revolves around her even though it's about Liam's mother. In addition to this, Olivia also gets her own mini-book, The Royal Holiday, that revolves (again) around her duchy and has the group clamouring to give her attention when no one else wants to.

Here are the stats for Hana, who by virtue of being an LI, is also a potential co-protagonist in the series:

Nothing.

Zilch. Zip. Zero. Nada. Nothing.

She has one childhood scene that is part of the group's scenes - a beautiful, heartbreaking one that serves as a slap in the face to anyone who'd dared to be dismissive of what she went through earlier - but none after that, and no individual scenes either. The team - in one of their most offensive choices this book - force a storyline where she has fertility issues just so the MC can be the one carrying the child, and the same MC can opt(!!) to ask about her well-being after two days. The same MC has the chance to whine about not getting pregnant soon enough in front of Hana.

There have been a few efforts made to make the MC appear more caring towards Hana: she can angrily defend Hana against Isabella's jibes, and she can make Hana relax for once during the baby shower (unlike the wedding reception where the same MC treated her like a bridesmaid). The MC even gets to tell her wife that she should never consider herself secondary or unimportant.

All of these are nice, but at the end of the day they're all scraps. I'd equate it to how we're allowed to give Kiara compliments on the final two chapters, but the white women around her still get a far bigger chunk of space, story and attention dedicated to them. The team have a pattern of adding these tiny tidbits that will temporarily satisfy stans while still maintaining the status quo, and that's precisely what's happening here. Its important for us to understand this. Underneath all this surface concern and all these scraps, Hana is still getting dust in place of actual story and characterization. And given that they made ZERO major changes to Hana's scenes in TRR 2.0, I'm not expecting that to change.

As for the book in general...I don't have to go into why this book is a mess, do I? We all know. We've all witnessed how disproportionate the writing has been and while I'm glad more and more people recognize what I've been seeing since Book 3, it's sad that it took 9 whole chapters in Walker Ranch for so many to understand exactly how much space Drake has been eating up for no good reason.

BLACK HOLES AND WHITE TEARS

I'll begin this section by talking about Drake Walker. He's the most prominent sign of the larger problem.

Drake Walker is what I call a Black Hole LI. And yes I mean black hole as in the one that exists in space (Beckett from TE also fits into this category). He is the kind of LI that sucks up everything. Love. Light. Joy. Common sense. Other characters' spaces.

He is the kind of love interest that will have Liam's traumatic experience centered around him. The kind of love interest for whose problems - largely created by his mammoth ego - we have to resolve in Shanghai, the home of the lone female LI. While that same female LI gets nothing, and then disappears in a subsequent chapter. The kind of love interest whose love confession can take precedence even over the MC's own issues (remember the Beaumont House chapter in Book 1? The one that took place the day after Tariq nonconsensually kissed the MC? 98% of the dialogue revolved around Drake's feelings. Not about the faulty lock, not the possibility that the MC's security had been tampered with - Drake's feelings). The kind of love interest that was given an entire extra wedding and artwork for his mother in Book 3 itself - none of which were given to any other LI.

A Black Hole LI is totally the kind of LI that would get 9 whole chapters in their home while we have never even visited the homes of the others since the early books of the previous series.

This wasn't something that began just this book. It's been a constant since Book 2, and you can even see signs of his story gaining way more importance in Book 1. It's also not something we can - in all honesty - blame simply on finances and fan popularity: the writers confirmed Drake to be one of their favourites, and attempts to give his scenes additional perks (eg plot elements pushed into both the Whiskey scene and the Beaumont Office scene) happened long before they could make any conclusions about his popularity. I bought the Beaumont Office scene to find out more about that family. I bought the Marshmallow scene so I could find out more about Liam and Hana's conversation post Coronation (remember - Hana was never even allowed to speak about her return to Cordonia because that scene was given to Drake). I bought the Italian Restaurant scene to learn more about Liam's assassination. The funny thing about all these three is that these were their stories to tell, yet Drake is the focus. Quite a few of Drake's initial scenes sold because the team consistently made the effort, consistently ensured that the information from his scenes would benefit us in the long run. The narrative allowed for Drake to have his own story, and additionally let aspects of his story overshadow that of the other LIs' (see the examples I've given above). Even though he has very little of value to contribute to the larger story (no job, his friendships are shallower than a wash-basin, and no genuine communication with any commoner in the story - only endless whining).

The treatment Drake gets that no other LI does, is a problem in itself, but it also is a small part of an even bigger issue. He isn't the only white character who gets this sort of attention and detail to his story.

Take Olivia, for example. Started out as a rival to the MC, before her sad sad childhood and her genuine love for Liam was revealed in the Book 1 finale. Over the course of the story, her role changed from petty rival to Warrior Duchess to reluctant bff. Over the course of the original series, Olivia became one of the most prominent characters in the story, on par with the male LIs. I'm not sure how many people realize that Lythikos is the ONLY duchy in the kingdom we've seen thrice (four times if you count Holiday). To give you an idea of how big a deal that is, here's how many times we've visited other duchies besides the capital and Applewood:

Fydelia - 2

Portavira - 1

Castelserraillian - 1

Ramsford (the home of our sponsors!) - 1

Hana's mother's home - Never.

Lythikos has a detailed familial and cultural history, and I wouldn't be lying if I said we know more about this one region than we know about the entire country of Cordonia. And honestly for me, the obsession with this one duchy has reached saturation point. Lythikos is not Cordonia. Lythikos is not all there is to Cordonia or even the only place that should matter. Yet it seems the team is more than eager to flog that horse until there's nothing of interest left.

Olivia is the only character who gets an entire mini book that revolves around comforting her and making her feel better about her background and origins. I don't think we've ever given Hana this much attention when she left her home for us. Or when she was being bullied by Madeleine. Or when she was the other bride in that grand wedding. Or when we received the news that carrying a child to term would be dangerous for her body. Or --

We were given an entire mini-book to comfort Olivia - the woman who continued to call Hana "damaged goods" and " a failure" for not marrying a man, while Hana's friend/wife stood by and watched. The woman who didn't have to think twice before making snide remarks about an equally skilled courtier who never did her any harm, only because she could get away with it. Istg when I heard that most of the court snubbed her during that first event in Holiday, this was my reaction:

Like girl I feel bad for you but at least now you know how it feels to be held responsible for shit beyond your control!

Hana, in the meantime, is forced time and again into situations that would break most people - but with very little payoff. Her arc with her parents was given a resolution that confirmed that Hana could only be considered worthy if she was useful. She was made to interact time and again with the woman who harmed her with such glee in Book 2. The MC - as a friend or as a wife - is at best neglectful of her issues and at worst someone who uses and discards Hana as she sees fit. And now...in her romantic playthrough she's given a storyline that doesn't allow her to bear children easily, and the MC spends less than two minutes to actually check on her. Hana is one of the co-protagonists, yet a side character given the treatment she should be getting. One could technically blame finances for the way she's being treated too, but keep in mind that the bad treatment goes as far back as the Applewood chapters in Book 1. Technically a time when she was bringing in money.

I get it. Olivia is a fan favourite. Many in the fandom wanted her to be an LI, the writers didn't, so they carved out this middle path where she'd have a major portion of the story anyway. But keep in mind that a lot of this attention came - and is still coming - at the cost of Hana. The team pretty much gave Olivia what they'd been refusing to give Hana all along.

On a smaller scale, you see similar patterns with the secondary characters - especially the women of the court. Madeleine and Penelope had elaborate backstories designed to make people forgive and sympathize with them, and Kiara - even though her backstory in Book 1 was inherently tragic and deserved to be handled sensitively - was given validation with great reluctance from the team, and with no consequences if we treated her cruelly. Even now, the team has only tossed Kiara a couple of scraps in the final chapter, while already setting the stage for Madeleine to get her own tragic "patriotism" arc for TRH Book 2, and a possible wedding for Penelope in the near future.

The difference here doesn't just lie in who gets attention and who doesn't. It lies in how the MC is supposed to view these women as well. A lot more sympathy and understanding is automatically extended to the white women, and the MC faces consequences if she fails to acknowledge their pain. Far less sympathy is offered by default to the black and the Asian woman - the MC may be friends with Hana but a huge chunk of their relationship is mostly about the MC benefiting from Hana's skills without giving much in return.

Even though their misdeeds are acknowledged and spoken about, both Madeleine and Penelope are written in such a way that the problems they're currently facing matter more than anything they've ever done in the past. Hana is made to sweet-talk Madeleine despite being bullied by her in a previous book. The MC herself never gets ANY opportunity to directly address what Penelope put her through in Portavira, because what the MC went through matters less than Penelope's condition.

Compare this to the relatively small scale of Kiara's "misdeed" (being honest about not continuing with an alliance - I'm surprised people think this is an actual thing to be offended about!), and the way the MC is allowed to mistreat her sans consequences afterwards. We're even allowed to call Kiara a snob in the books - which isn't at all true if you look at any of her scenes in canon - and constantly make fun of her desire to learn (in fact, if anyone in the series could be called a snob, it would be Olivia). If I were to sum up how a woman of colour is spoken about in the books, vs a white woman - this screenshot would do the trick:

(Notice how none of the options to speak about Penelope allow us to speak rudely of her, yet in Kiara's case we're allowed to make judgements on her as a person. In Hana's case, while we don't exactly drag her the way we can drag Kiara - we get precious few opportunities to actually defend or support her when others talk rubbish about her).

When you explore the series overall, it's impossible to ignore the casual racism that makes disrespecting people of a certain race/colour easier than on another. It's impossible not to see where the narrative chooses to give consequences to an MC who treats a white woman badly, and where it allows the very same MC to suspect, and then (optionally) gaslight, a woman of colour a couple chapters later. It's impossible not to see which people are meant to be respected despite their bad behaviour, and which people can still be treated badly despite their better behaviour. It's impossible not to see a pattern emerging.

This is not even a problem that plagues only the TRR series. From TCaTF to ACOR to Platinum to even MoTY, there is an ongoing pattern of discrepancies between the way white people and people of colour - particularly women - are treated. Many POC characters are placed in situations where it's easier for them to suffer/die/be shown disrespect, than it is to show them kindness or mercy. MOC are regularly either exoticized (Prince Hamid is the most glaring example of this) or placed in very traumatic situations for which the payoff isn't always going to be that great (I know this happens to Dallas, but I don't know about the payoff for Syphax).

WOC particularly suffer quite a bit in a lot of PB novels, in comparison to their white counterparts. Rowan Thorne of TCaTF, as a character, didn't deserve for her death to be made easier than her survival (in contrast to Diavolos, who was given far more opportunities AND will live simply by virtue of allying with Kenna), any more than Kiara deserved to be interrogated by the people who should have been concerned for her safety or Xanthe deserved to be shipped to slavery. All this, while a Vanessa (who is in a position of power and who plays an active role in rendering the MOTY MC financially helpless) gets a diamond scene where she "explains" her situation and a Madeleine doesn't even have to hear about her bullying from her victims.

The fandom, too, has contributed to this on a number of occasions. Speaking specifically of TRR, how many times have we seen Hana being dragged on Olivia posts? (also, if we were really measuring Olivia by the impossible standards that we held for Hana's characterization, Olivia would appear pretty damn one-note too: after all, 80% of her characterization consists of knife jokes). How many times was Hana being looked at with disdain for either her niceness or the poor writing for her, while the same fandom would regularly coo over a nice-presenting Penelope (whose characterization is one of the most inconsistent in the series)? How many times have we seen Kiara being called a creep/obsessed for merely looking at a man, while almost no one judges Olivia for kissing a man without his consent? How many times have people forgiven a traitorous Penelope and hated on a far more innocent Kiara in the same breath? How often did the fandom hate on Liam for accepting the MC's advances after she rejected him, yet not say a word when Drake did the same thing? How many times has Maxwell been loved for his humour and childlike nature while people of colour with a similar personality (Lily from Bloodbound, for example) were hated on instantly? Clearly, there have been more instances of people in the fandom sympathizing automatically with the white character, than with characters of colour. Time and again, brown and black characters - particularly women - have been required to match up to impossible standards (if they're nice they're boring. If they don't like the MC they're <insert every gendered sexist insult you can think of here>). The standards are far more relaxed for white characters, and they're often given more breathing room and to most of what they want without the constant judgement that black and brown women get. The standards set up for both are grossly different.

Racism is a beast that assumes many forms - and not all forms of racism will appear obvious to some, especially when such stereotypes are so normalized in media and popular fiction that we almost accept it at first. Almost. To get to the root of why there's such an imbalance in this series - among others - we need to first acknowledge the sexism and racism that are such a vital part of its narrative, and that its fandom regularly buys into and (sometimes unwittingly) promotes.

At this point, it's important to understand that having queer characters or characters of colour simply exist in the books isn't enough. Token rep can be found in PB's books by the dozens, but at the end of the day it means nothing if there is a constant reluctance, over and over and over, to treat those characters with the same care and sensitivity that they treat their white ones (or their "exoticized brown" ones).

• Like I mentioned earlier, I won't be playing TRH from this point forward, but I do hope to finish my TRR QTs soon. I have a LOT of thoughts! If you'd like to be tagged on those, do tell me!

[lailannajacobs]

A Gaudy Gala, A Sly Prince and a Bittersweet Exit (Handmade Thieves Final Chapter)

Pairing: Loki x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader unwittingly finds her way onto Asgard and has to deal with all the attention that follows being a mortal in the extravagant realm. To his surprise, Loki finds himself having just as much trouble if not more than reader in dealing with it. 

Chapter / whole series inspired by this request: May I request a lil thingie where Loki and the reader are in Asgard (for whatever reason you want,) and reader gets a lot of “attention” (all kinds) because she’s a mortal and those are kinda rare to see? There’s a galla coming up and she’s like a magnet there as well. Loki doesn’t like it. (loki and reader don’t have a relationship yet. sorry if this is long and confusing!

Warnings: A nice little mix of fluff and angst

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has bothered to read this series, I love you all from the bottom of my heart so thank you, thank you thank you! This ending didn’t take me where I thought it would, but I think it’s fitting with the characters so I hope you like it too! Thank you again to the anon who requested this initially, it’s been a ride and if you took the time to read it, I’d love to hear what you think!! Thanks again loves <3 

Handmade Thieves | Chapter 13

Smoothing down your dress, you searched the party for the one person you actually wanted to see and sighed when you came up empty.

The dress that had been left on your bed earlier that evening wasn’t attention grabbing or flashy, but it was the most beautiful gown you had ever seen. The cut was simple and flattered your body far more than any of the other dresses you had worn, and the material soft and unrestrictive. Whoever had chosen the dress had also been kind enough to decide on something that, as far as dresses went, didn’t restrict your movements much and wouldn’t leave you with an array of angry red dress marks. When you had seen yourself in the mirror, you had smiled. You actually felt like yourself and that was more you ever would have asked from a dress.

With so many other stunning Asgardians that had shown up, you doubted the reason so many of them were looking at you was because of your attire. You guessed it was more likely because they still hadn’t gotten over the fact that there was a Midgardian in their midst. But you didn’t care about getting their attention. Their attention didn’t matter to you and it terrified you that there was one person whose attention did.

You hated how disappointed you had been when Loki had told you he wouldn’t come to pick you up.  It wasn’t only that you liked having him by your side when you walked into fancy meetings and parties, but also that you…liked him. The realization had blindsided you and you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out when or how it had happened. As soon as the thought had crossed your mind, you had shoved it to a far corner where it needed to stay and never resurface. And getting ready had been a whirlwind of emotions, especially when you had looked into the mirror and had wished he could see you without the distractions of the party around. But you knew you couldn’t feel this way about him. Not because of who he was, but because of what it might do to you when he told you that he didn’t feel the same way.

Although those thoughts had raced through your head the moment you had learned you would be walking into the party alone, you were pretty sure you had hidden your feelings well, hoping you had brushed it off without him suspecting a thing. You were a grown woman. Despite the fact that you wanted him to take you to the gala as if he was your prom date, you had strode into the ballroom with your head held high.

It had felt like an eternity since then. You had no idea where the prince was or why it was taking him so long to get here, but the gala was in full swing now, and you had no idea what to do with yourself. From your past party experience, hanging around the buffet table in the back of the room had seemed like your safest bet, especially considering the fact that Odin didn’t want you attracting any attention to yourself, so it was what you had done. Laying low was something you were more than happy to do. Honestly, without the prince there to convince you to stay - or to keep you company for that matter - you were seriously considering leaving.

If your presence here had to be discreet than what better way than to leave early. It was probably better that you weren’t here at all. A night reading, alone, not talking to a single soul…well that was a hell of a lot more appealing than being at a party and being told not to socialize. Not that you really wanted to socialize anyways.

A few of the kinder Asgardians had taken pity on you and had stopped to say hello, but the conversations had quickly died out. But even though only a few came and talked to you, and even if you had been making yourself as small as possible, you still felt their eyes drawn to you like magnets. Once again, you found yourself wishing for the prince.

Without a watch, you had no idea what time it was, but you figured you had waited here, alone, long enough. You had made an appearance, which had to count for something.

You were weaving through the crowd and heading for the door when you heard a familiar voice.

“Excuse me (y/n), may I have this dance?”

You pasted on a smile and turned, knowing it wasn’t Asger’s fault you were alone and miserable. If anything, he was actually trying to help, and you weren’t about to tell him to go away simply because you thought he was someone else. No. If you were going to pretend your feelings didn’t exist and pretend everything was normal, then you were going to start by dancing with Asger.

“Of course,” you nodded, placing a hand in his, “I would love to.”

He led you towards the centre of the room, and place his hand tentatively on your waist. The two of you moved slowly, an awkward space between your two bodies despite how many people were dancing so close around you. You weren’t sure what to say, or if you should say anything at all. The music was upbeat, the beat growing as the song proceeded. You didn’t know if it was the crowded room or your heart following in time with the music but your it began to race, and you were starting to feel like you wanted to crawl out of your own skin. You were more than ready for this day to be over, but you took in a steading breath and told yourself to at least finish the song.

“(y/n)?”

You looked up into those soft brown eyes, “Yes Asger?”

“I was hoping that” You didn’t hear the rest of what he was saying but you knew exactly where he was about to go with his sentence.

Looking at him, you wondered why you couldn’t feel anything for him instead. He was kind, honest and beautiful, and yet you knew with absolute certainty that you would never feel anything other than friendship for him. Your brain kicked into overdrive as you began to panic, wondering how you were supposed to respond and suddenly it felt hard to breath.

“(y/n)?” Asger stopped moving, probably having asked a question that you should have answered by now.

You just - you needed to get out. You needed to get a handle on your thoughts, somewhere where it didn’t feel like the world around you was so cluttered and jammed with people that you couldn’t hear yourself think.

“I’m sorry Asger…I just…I need a second.” You managed. “But thank you for the dance…it was lovely.”

You tried not to look at the confused and hurt look on his face before you tore through the crowd, trying to make it to the back doors of the room. You needed to get out of the ballroom. It felt like everyone was on the dance floor and the harder you pushed to escape, the more it felt like everyone was closing in. Your head spun, disoriented by the bustle of people around you, and you could feel the panic taking over as you lost sight of the exit.

Suddenly, almost as if on cue, there was a break in the crowd, and at the other end of the tunnel of people, directly in your line of sight, there he stood. You stopped moving. As if sensing your eyes on him, his searching gaze found yours, and as soon as the corner of his mouth quirked up, visible even from a distance, you let out the first deep breath of the evening. The urge to leave was quashed under the need to go to him, but you remained rooted to the spot. Maybe you would have gone to him before you had discovered these feelings of yours, but you weren’t about to risk him figuring it out by going to him instead of waiting for him to come to you.

He strolled towards you, but you noticed something a little off about his gait. Then, you smiled, the familiarity of it all - the posh party and the prince’s cunning - releasing the pressure in your chest. The closer he got to you, the easier it became to breath, until the only reason your heart fluttered was one that under any other circumstance, wouldn’t have been considered a bad thing.

He stopped for a moment, letting another party guest pass by, before taking the final steps to reach you. You inhaled another deep breath, the smell of partygoer’s perfume and circulating hors d’oeuvres filling your nose, no hint of his familiar pine and lemon scent.

He extended his hand, silently asking you to dance, but you shook your head.

“I don’t want to dance with you Loki.” You watched his face fall, confusion flashing across it, but you only smiled. “It’s a good illusion, one of your best really, but I like my dance partners to be, you know, alive and real.”

For a moment, you weren’t sure you had guessed correctly, but then the illusion faded, and what you saw behind it made your heart stop.

There in the centre of all the Asgardian colours and fashion stood Loki in a fitted, black Midgardian suit. If the otherworldly clothes didn’t set him apart then the fact that he was clad in black from head to toe did. The shirt underneath matched his ink hair, which he had slicked back, letting it fall to his shoulders. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a satisfied little smirk and as he approached you noticed that the shiny lapels of his jacket and tie were not actually black but a green so dark the colour could only be seen in the right light.

The crowd seemed to part for him and when he stopped in front of you, you were speechless.

He smirked, rocked back on his heels and bent at the waist with his hand out, “May I?”

You nodded, unable to say anything as put your hand in his. Straightening, he pulled you towards him, his strong hand on the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours as he led you into a slow dance. With your bodies pressed together, you could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and you smiled, knowing this was no illusion. You were sure he could also feel your pounding heart in your chest, and you tried to push away the feelings and just enjoy yourself.

He dipped his head down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I thought that this time they could take their eyes off of you by looking at me instead.”

The dangerous tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine, “And how’s that working out?”

“Not very well,” he growled, “they can’t take their eyes off of you.”

You laughed, “Rightfully so. We’re stunning.”

He stopped moving and pulled back so that he could look at you, his eyes scanning every inch of your face.

“We are.” He murmured. “Absolutely stunning.”

Afraid you would so something stupid, you broke away from his intense gaze and stared straight at his tie instead as you started dancing again.

“So, where were you?” You asked, trying not to focus on the fresh smell of lemon and pine, “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up.”

“I had last minute things to attend to that took a little longer than I had initially believed they would.” Something sounded off in his voice but when you dipped back to look up at him, his raised eyebrow and sly grin said the opposite.

He was about to lead you into a spin, but you paused, noticing a black smudge on his jaw. Before you could even think about what you were doing you lifted your hand to wipe it away.

Your fingers came back with a black substance that was all too familiar. His eyes, which had been following the movement, widened when he saw what was on your fingers.

His long fingers wrapped around gently around your wrist, a roguish grin replacing the look of surprise, “Careful. You wouldn’t want to get that on your dress, it stains.”

“I know that.” You smeared it between your thumb and forefinger, “the question prince, is why would you have engine grease on your face?”

“You don’t believe I teleport everywhere I wish to go, do you?” He asked while the black vanished from both your fingers and his face.

You were about to demand more of an explanation, but Odin’s voice cut across the room, silencing the room with its power for attention.

Loki’s fingers slipped further around your waist at the sound, keeping you close with a steady pressure. The reaction was unexpected, but you didn’t mind the closeness. Even though you knew you normally would have shrugged him off, you stood tucked into his side, listening to Odin’s speech about his visions of continuous peace.

The king’s gaze scanned the room as he continued to speak but instead of brushing over you like it had all night, it lingered on you for a moment. Something in your gut curled in terror. You couldn’t explain why, but that one eye seemed to bore into you with such hatred, you had only needed the two seconds it had lingered on you to feel it.

When he wrapped up his speech, you clapped along politely with everyone else, but you weren’t really present in the room. Your mind was racing with thoughts about the king, wondering what had happened in the last week to make him look at you the way he did. A part of you wondered if you had caught a glimpse of the looks Loki received from his father but you had known it wasn’t true. Deep down, you had known the look was meant for you.

“Midgardian,” His whisper against your ear made you jump, “I didn’t mean to scare you, but how about we leave this gala. I believe we’ve been here long enough.”

You only nodded. His arm left your waist and you shivered, feeling cold without its comforting weight, but he took your arm in his and lead you toward the exit. The path you took was long and winding, weaving in and out of crowds until finally, you emerged out onto a balcony similar to the one you were on last week.

Loki took a step away, running his fingers through his already messy hair. Something seemed to be bothering him, and he opened his mouth to speak twice but shut it both times. You had never seen him look so disgruntled, and the worry that had settled deep in your gut at the gala found itself resurfacing.

His warring mind seemed to have come to a conclusion when he let out a long breath and turned to face you, a grin plastered on his lips. That was when you knew something was wrong. You had never been on the receiving end of that smile, and the fact that you were getting it now could only mean that he was about to lie to you. You were about to tell him not to bother with whatever was about to come out of his mouth, but his words stunned you into silence.

“I found the piece you needed for your ship.” The words were barely audible, and you were tempted to ask him to repeat it but you knew you had heard correctly.

You could go leave. Get back to Earth.  

“Why?” You didn’t want to question a good thing, but you couldn’t help it. “Why now?”

He shrugged as if he had no particular reason, which you knew was as far from the truth as possible. There was nothing he did that he didn’t think through first.

“Think of it as a prize for having guessed my illusion so quickly.”

“What’s the real reason?” You shot back.

He raised a brow, annoyed. “If you don’t want to leave that’s fine with me.”

You stopped protesting. He was right. This was your way out. He was ready to hand you what you had been working so hard for the last months. You looked him over, noticing once again that he looked like he couldn’t stand still, which wasn’t like him. Your gut told you that he was hiding something, but the prospect of leaving Asgard was finally hitting you, and it was getting hard to think things through properly.

“I don’t mean to rush you Midgardian, but it’s now or never.”

Those green eyes were bright and alert, ready for your answer.

You nodded, “Yeah, of course. Let’s go.”

His shoulders relaxed and he motioned for you to follow him. Maybe the two of you had really become friends and he was doing what he thought was right. Maybe that was why he looked so uncomfortable, you thought, staring at his back as you picked up the pace to catch up to him.

The two of you walked down the hallways in plain sight, nodding your hellos to the passing Asgardians. Of all the escape plans you had imagined in your head, this one as far more out in the open than you had pictured.

You headed through a part of the palace you had never seen before, and not before long, you stepped out onto a narrow cobblestone road that lead out into a forest less than a hundred yards from the palace.

Taking in a long deep breath of fresh air, you smiled, feeling like you could properly breath for the first time in months. You were going to your ship! Suddenly the idea that you were leaving Asgard felt very real, and you felt your excitement build.

Loki looked down at you with a little smirk on his face. “How does it feel to be an outlaw?”

You grinned back at him, “Like home.”

His eyes searched your face for a moment before he cleared his throat and looked back out to the forest, “Come. We’re almost there.”

The trees formed a thick canopy above your heads, plunging the two of you into darkness. Loki pulled a lamp out of thin air and set the forest aglow, casting eerie shadows as you wove through the trees.

The cloth slippers you were wearing were now soaked through from the wet earth and when you stepped in a puddle you hadn’t seen, the sound caught Loki’s attention.

“I have something you might like Midgardian.”

He conjured your boots, your dirty socks crumpled in them because you hadn’t had time to wash them, but the sight made you sigh with relief. Your toes had been starting to tingle with the cold, and you hadn’t been sure how much longer you would have been able to walk.

He lifted his lamp a little higher so that you could see a large, nearby boulder, and you sat on it to put your boots.

It felt strange that neither of you were speaking, but the looming prospect of departure seem to steal the words from both of you. As excited as you were to be free, a small part of you was a little sad to be leaving. Not Asgard. No, you wouldn’t miss the place much, but one person in particular.

He nodded when you were ready to go, and you followed at his side, the dim light barely enough to see the roots and holes in the ground.

“Was that Asger I saw you running away from?” He asked out of the blue, glancing down at you with a roguish grin on his lips.

At the sudden break in silence, the only thing you could utter was, “What?”

“At the gala. Right before we danced.” He offered helpfully.

You rolled your eyes at him. “I was not running away.”

“Then what exactly were you doing?” The disbelief and humour in his voice palpable. “It looked a lot like running away to me.”

“I wasn’t running away from him, I was…” You hesitated for a moment.

“Running to find me?” The pale light set his mischievous eyes aglow. “Seems you can’t get through a simple gala without me.”

You crossed your arms, though quickly uncrossed them when you tripped over a root, “I’d have to say the same about you. I’m sure that’s the real reason you’d been keeping me around all this time.”

“That’s precisely why.” You could see the smile on his face, but once again, it didn’t quite seem to match up with the usual tone you heard in his banter.

Whatever the real reason was, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You were leaving now and that was all that mattered.

“We’re almost there.” He continued seriously.

You made the rest of the way in silence, and when you came to the clearing made of broken trees and mounds of displaced dirt you let out a whoop.

Not waiting for him to follow, you ran up to it and gently touched the scraped and dented edges as if you might hurt it even more. You couldn't stop grinning, and you were trying to fight the urge to jump up and down with joy. Skipping around to the back, you found the door still open, the walkway panel left out and extended to the ground.

Running in, you glanced around you ship and found everything exactly where you had left it, awaiting your return. Your grease stained gloves were by the door, ready for the moment you would put the piece back in and your toolbox, spilling out various tools you had hoped in vain would help fix your problem.

You could barely believe you were here. Somehow it felt like you had just left to find the spar piece, but at the same time, as if you had been away for an eternity. A laugh bubbled out and you couldn’t believe it. You ran from side to side of your ship, touching your trinkets and memorabilia stacked along the walls like a mother hen checking on all of her chicks.

You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice the Loki had followed you in, remaining in the doorway. There was a strange look on his face as he took in the surroundings, but you were too happy to even bother with trying to decipher the look.

“Where’s the piece?” You asked, running over to your tools by the door, “I’ll go install it right now.”

He took a small step toward you, shaking his head.

Your heart dropped and shattered in your chest. “You don’t have it, do you.”

Snapping out of his daze, he tore his eyes away from the colourful chaos of your ship and stared at you as if he had forgotten that you were at the centre of all of this chaos.

“No, I don’t have it.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, “I already installed it. Your ship is-”

He never got to finish his sentence, because without realizing what you were doing, your lips were on his. You only realized what you had done when nothing happened. But before you could pull back and apologize profusely by telling him that you were so happy you weren’t thinking, his hands tightened around your waist, his lips capturing yours.

All reason vanished from your mind and you buried your fingers in his hair, combing through with your finer nails. He groaned against your lips and backed you up against the wall of your ship, scattering trinkets to the ground. He moved from your lips to your neck, hands roaming and tugging as if he couldn’t get you close enough. His long fingers dipped down and back up, playing along your thighs, your waist, your back. The clothes between the two of you suddenly felt like too much space between you. You were untangling your fingers from his hair to take off his jacket when he stopped you with his lips on yours, pressing hard and demanding entrance with his tongue. Getting the message, you left your hands where they were, tugging gently. He moaned your name, a low guttural sound that sent shivers down your spine and heat to your core.

And then he was gone.

You blinked your eyes open at the sudden loss of contact, trying to figure out what had just happened. He stood a few feet away, trying to appear casual with his hands stuffed into his pockets, but his hair was a mess and he was panting as hard as you were.

There was an expression on his face unlike any you had ever seen before, conflicted, almost pained, but the longer you watched in silence, the more that look disappeared, a cold mask sliding in to replace it.

What had happened? Why had he pulled away? Was it you? Was it him? You could tell he was fighting something inside him, something that would determine whether or not you got answers. And as much as you wanted to shake him and demand he tell you what was going on, you waited.

“You have to leave. Now.” He ordered when his breathing returned to normal.

You stared at him, not too sure you had heard right. “What?”

He shrugged, “You’re getting out of Asgard tonight. Right now.”

Although you had been waiting to hear those words since you had crashed, this wasn’t the way you wanted to hear them. Something felt wrong. You wanted to go - obviously - but why was it that a small part of you kind of wanted to stay too?

“I don’t understand.” You finally said, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ve repaired your ship. You’re leaving.”  He motioned for you to go start your ship.

You didn’t budge. “Loki what’s going on?”

The sound of his name seemed to solidify his mask and he remained silent, all the fire and emotion gone from his eyes.

“What happened?” You growled, now much more frustrated than confused, “Why now?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard and he hesitated, sucking in a deep breath then swallowing his words.

“Why now?” You repeated, your voice barely a whisper, knowing you were so close to getting an answer.

The confusion vanished from his face and he became a blur of shimmering green, his Asgardian tunic replacing his Earthly clothes, and he stood a little straighter, the cocky prince replacing the real Loki you had come to like so much.

He lifted his chin slightly, “I’m calling in your end of the deal.”

“What?” You were starting to wonder if you could say anything else than two worded questions.

“You were to help me when the time came,” he reminded you, “And now the time has come Midgardian. I need you off this realm.”

“I thought…” your words trailed off.

A cruel laugh escaped his lips, a jarring contrast to the little huff you had gotten so used to hearing - the one that had always made you want to smile too. This one only made you cold.

“I beg your pardon,” He sneered, “You thought what?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t admit aloud what you had been keeping to yourself all night. It had been stupid to even feel that way about him and you couldn’t admit to him that you had lost your wits. You may have been played for a fool, but you weren’t about to lose your pride over it too.

You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide the fact that your body was shaking with emotion and tried for business like when you asked, “What’s the favour?”

“Simple. I need you to escape.” He said

“Why?” You blurted the question before you could stop yourself, “Why tonight of all nights?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed before opening them again. “Because everyone will believe that a thief tried to escape on a night when all eyes were turned from her and toward peace instead.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “I’ll look like the villain, using peace for my own gain.”

He shrugged. “One of us has to be.”

You tried to leash your anger through clenched fists, never breaking eye contact. “So, what will that make you then?”

“A stand in while Odin deals with the mess he made. After all, he was the one who decided to keep you here.” His lips curled into a vicious grin.

“But they have no idea who I really am and what I’m doing here.” You pointed out. “They won’t care that the ambassador has left.”

He chuckled, the sound void of real humour. “Don’t worry about that Midgardian. They will.”

“Fine so you expose Odin’s foolhardy decision, then what Loki? Because from where I’m standing, you send them after me and I’m dead. And I did not agree to die for you or anyone else.” You snarled.

“If you must know, you’ll have enough time to escape and find a place to lay low until it all blows over. I know a thief like you must have hiding placing in the galaxy.”

He looked so calm, you wanted to shake him until you knew exactly what he was thinking and planning behind that cold veneer of his. You almost took a step toward him to see if anything you had imagined in the past few months was real, but you didn’t. At the same time, he seemed to take a step forward but thought better of it as well.

“You’ll have twenty minutes Midgardian. After that, Hiemdall will be aware that your ship has left, and they will be hunting you.”

You wanted to argue for a plan that guaranteed your safety, but you didn’t. You knew there was no plan that would ever get you safely off now. You would be exposed as an outlaw and there was no backing out. This was your best chance at escaping. It wasn’t like there was anything for you here, he had been clear about that. You had imagined all of it, and it was time you went home.

Without another word, he spun on his heel and walked out the door, never once looking back.

Tears burn behind your eyes, but you held them back. You weren’t going to cry over this. Not when you were expecting it all along. But you weren’t, whispered a small voice in the back of your mind, you had been a fool and had gotten swept away in all of it instead.

You pushed that voice aside and tucked your feelings away in a place far away so that you couldn’t feel them anymore. You had to leave and you had to do it now. There was a way off this realm, but you were going to need every second you could possibly get to do it. Gulping down a shaking breath, you walked over to your seat and dropped down into the cool, familiar material. The feeling managed to partially ease that shaking feeling inside.

Staring at your dashboard, you were unable to do anything even though you knew you had to. Everything had happened so quickly, you weren’t even sure you knew what had happened exactly. You knew you were mad, but you knew, deep down, you were also hurt. With another deep breath, you tried once again to push your feelings aside. There would be a time to go over them later. It wasn’t like your brain would stop playing the events of the night over and over again if you let it. Right now though, if you weren’t focused you weren’t going to get a chance to figure out anything at all.

You forced your fingers to press the buttons, flip the switches and start the engine. It sputtered to life, not having liked crashing or not running for almost a year, but it pulled through. The sound wasn’t smooth, but it was steady enough you knew it would make it off the ground and to wherever you needed to take it. The prince might not care if you lived or died, but he wasn’t going to risk having the chase end quickly, so you were certain you could make it back to Earth.

Even though you kept telling yourself that he didn’t care, an uneasy feeling in your gut told you that a small part of him had to…right? You couldn’t have imagined everything. Or had your feelings made you so blind that you had forgotten who you were dealing with? You shook your head. No. You had caught a glimpse of something real in him and you hadn’t imagined it. It didn’t matter though. It hadn’t been the side of him that had won out.

You scolded yourself for getting so off track, rolled your shoulders back and gripped the control wheel. Earth was already preset as your destination and within moments, you were off the ground, heading off this realm for good.  

The prince had been right. You were almost out of Asgard when the first ship had appeared on your radar, but by then, you had known you were in the clear. Two jumps had taken you to a secret little pocket of the galaxy where you knew you would only have to wait a day before heading back to Earth unnoticed.

Maybe it had been so easy to escape because the prince had been right about your knack for staying alive. Or maybe, just maybe - even if you hated thinking it - he had waited a little longer than he had said to expose your escape. But even that possibility did nothing to wash away your fury and leftover adrenaline.

Hovering in your ship with not much else to do, there was nothing you could do to hold your feelings from rushing back in. You were with angry at him as you were with yourself. You couldn’t believe you had been so stupid. It was no secret that he had been planning something, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t come through with his end of the bargain. He had gotten you out of that dungeon and off of Asgard.

Groaning, you let your head fall back, annoyed with how upset you were. The more you tried to figure out how you had gotten so caught up in everything, the more your fingers tightened around the arm rests.

If only you could figure out what had changed. Because as far as you could tell, you weren’t the only one who had enjoyed that kiss. But you knew as hard as you tried to figure everything out, the more exhausted you would become. There was nothing you could do about it because you were missing a piece to the puzzle, and the only person who had the missing piece was the one person you were never going to see again.

When your but was sore from being seated for so long, you stood up, and noticed a large package on the passenger seat you hadn’t seen before. It didn’t take a genius to know who the sender was, and you stared at it in hatred.

Inside the box was a large, golden artifact, shaped like an eye with intricate designs in its lower half. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew an artifact this big and ostentatious was worth something.

Although a small part of you was relieved you wouldn’t be return to Earth empty handed, you held onto your anger, knowing a pretty little gift didn’t erase the hurt in your chest.

You picked up a small note that must have fallen to the ground when you had opened the box. It read:

Against your better judgment, you let out a breathy laugh and flipped it to the other side.

Despite everything that had happened that evening, you felt yourself smile. You could practically hear his voice, the challenge in it loud and clear.

You would meet again.

If it wasn’t for the explanation he sure as hell owed you, then it would be to give him the stab wound you sure as hell owed him. Either way, you had gotten his message loud and clear.

The story wasn’t finished between the two of you.

Really, now that you were free, it was just the beginning.

[purplesurveys]

1023

survey by ohsh1t2wksl8

Why might you get rid of an old family heirloom? I have the tendency to be a bad hoarder tbh, but I can imagine having no problem with throwing an heirloom out if I find out something particularly disgusting about the original owner, like if they were extremely racist when they were alive or were serial killers or something.

What is something that kids spend most of their time doing? Ooh, I haven’t been a kid nor have I hung out with kids in a while. I do know a lot of them like asking a series of questions, which I mostly find adorable. All my cousins did this with me when they were younger.

What is something that you might only do once a week? My family and I watch Sunday mass weekly. I’m not into it, but I don’t have a choice.

Why might a person wake up at 2:00 AM? Nightmares. I know this happens to me, at least.

What is something you might eat with a hamburger? I usually eat mine with French fries. But some restaurants serve burgers with onion rings, which is even better.

Name something that you haven’t done since high school gym class. Ran in an oval. That’s how we were made to warm up then, but in my college PEs we were never required to do so and stationary exercises usually sufficed.

How much would you tip a waiter or waitress for good service? Tipping isn’t required where I live and the whole calculating for the 20% bit is a completely foreign concept here. That said, I usually give a P20 tip as thanks in every restaurant I dine at; but if the service was exceptionally good, I’d give either a P50 or P100, depending on how much money I have left.

Who is your favorite character from the television sitcom, “Friends”? I think I’ve answered this recently but my answer will never change - it’s Chandler, for damn sure. Monica’s a really close second, and she was originally my first favorite until I realized Chandler is way too hilarious of a character that it would be almost an insult not to rank him 1st. The rest of my rankings go Rachel, Ross, Joey, then Phoebe.

What is something you can buy for only $1 or less? For P50, I can get myself a couple of ballpens.

Name a native Spanish-speaking country. Mexico.

What is a liquid in your kitchen that you hope no one ever drinks? Canola oil.

What is something that breaks down frequently? Me...hahahahahahahahahahaha but another answer would be the public trains that we have. Those have never been reliable and in pre-Covid days it was common to hear news of the LRT/MRT breaking down and passengers being forced to walk all the way to the next station. Of course, unsurprisingly, the government never really did anything about it, and with public transport being indefinitely halted due to Covid it’s now mostly a buried issue.

What is another name for “book”? The first guess that came to mind is publication, but now that I think about it it’s a bit of a broader term compared to book.

Name a famous wizard. I’m gonna go with the obvious because I’m not too familiar with this genre anyway: Harry Potter.

Name a piece of furniture that might be handmade. Tables! My grandpa hand-made our present living room table. :) It’s made out of wood but my mom spray-painted it black to fit more with the atmosphere she wanted for the house.

Whose name might you have tattooed on your body? I would have initials tattooed on me, but never names. That said...can’t really imagine anyone’s initials deserving a permanent spot on my skin. Maybe my kid’s/kids’, should I have my own in the future.

How long is an unbearable commute for you? I don’t commute. But as a driver, I will start getting pissed if I find myself on the road for 2 hours straight especially if my destination isn’t even too far away.

What is something that you always need to leave plugged in? The electric fan is turned on 24/7, unless I’m not in my room.

What is a sport that you’ve always wanted to play, but never got a chance to. Ooh, this is honestly hard to answer because back in high school we were given the chance to try out a bunch of sports - futsal, baseball, soccer, basketball, volleyball, badminton, table tennis, and even gymnastics and cheerleading. Name it and we were probably briefly taught it. And some sports I tried out on my own time, like beach volleyball and ultimate. Hmm...OH wait we never covered tennis!!! and I’ve always wanted to try that.

What is a fruit that you might eat in the morning? Hard pass.

What beverage do you most commonly drink with breakfast? I either have food accompanied with water, or just coffee with no food. I never have coffee if I’m having food for breakfast as I don’t like how that could affect the taste of my food.

Name a type of gun that doesn’t shoot bullets. Do water guns count? Haha.

Where is a place that you might not get cell phone reception? Underground parking lots. I’ve definitely gotten in trouble before for missing out on my mom’s texts and calls because I had been hanging out at a mall’s underground parking area.

Who might you send a selfie to? Angela, but I never really do that anymore. I used to, though, back when we still regularly sent each other Snapchats.

What is a plant that someone might grow themselves? My grandma keeps a lot of horsetail plants at my childhood home.

Name an item in or on your bed every night. I sleep beside my phone as I need the background noise from YouTube to lull me to sleep.

What type of vehicle would you not want to hit while driving? I’ve driven beside Porsches and Ferraris before, which has always made me quietly panic lmfao

What part of your body typically has an ache? I’m starting to get regular headaches after my shift. My shoulders and lower back also hurt more often now. Definitely time to invest in a comfy work chair.

Out of your work shift, how much time do you spend doing “actual work”? Hmm, not sure what actual work means butttttt on weekends, I’ll check in on work stuff for a total of maybe around 30 minutes just because I hate being far away from work for a long time haha.

Why might a person be running? They forgot something in their car and need the thing immediately.

Name an older actor who has been in lots of movies. Bette Davis.

Where is somewhere that you might need to use coins? Riding the jeepney. Or any public transport, really.

What material might be used in building a house? Concrete.

What is a metal that a coin might be made out of. No idea. I’ve long thrown my chemistry/physics lessons out of my head, lol.

Can you name a country that starts with the letter A? Azerbaijan.

What is something that comes out of clouds? Rain.

Name a food that would roll if you accidentally dropped it on the floor. Lumpia. And it is also a type of food I would have no problem picking back up regardless of where it lands. Lumpia is life hahaha.

What is something that comes in a glass bottle? Wine.

How long do your New Years resolutions typically last? I don’t make those, exactly because they never last with me.

What is something that you would hate to see floating around in your bathtub? I’d hate to be sitting in a tub filled with water that was already dirty before I could even settle in it.

About how many pages is the longest book you’ve ever read? I never finished either, but it’s either Les Miserables or Gone with the Wind.

Name something that Kentucky is famous for. Outside of KFC, which I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere that its first franchise actually opened in a different state, I have no idea.

Who would you call first after getting engaged to tell them the news? I can imagine it would be Angela.

Can you name a country with a lot of ice? I dunno. Finland maybe?

What color underwear might you wear for a special occasion? Black.

[goofygomez]

Anniversary - Clouis Oneshot

Description: Clementine and Louis have been together for almost a year, and Clem begins to ponder on how to celebrate such a special occasion.

Wordcount: 5700

A/N: Hey there! I’m finally posting some new content. Shocking, right? I wanted to write this in honor of Clouis’s actual anniversary, which is today (September 25th). Aside from that, this fic is doubly special because it is dedicated to one of my best friends in the fandom, whose birthday was just a few days ago @missdaisymayrio. Happy Birthday, Layla, hope you enjoy your handmade gift!

As always, comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated, since I deleted my previous account and I’m trying to be more active now. Enjoy!

---

Clementine paced her room impatiently, muttering under her breath, the carpet muffling the thud of her crutches. Violet was sprawled at Clem’s bed, silently thinking of Clementine’s request. The two girls had been in her room for about an hour, trying to come up with something Clem could give Louis for their anniversary. They only had a week left, and so far, no ideas came to mind.

“What if you just… didn’t give him anything?” Violet suggested for what felt like the hundredth time.

Clem rolled her eyes and turned to her best friend. “I can’t do that,” she said. “He already gives me these little gifts every couple weeks that he finds on supply runs, I have to do something for our anniversary.”

“Can you believe you guys lasted a whole year?” Violet said, changing the subject. “I owe Aasim an energy bar.”

“You guys bet on us staying together?” Clem said indignant, sitting down on the bed opposite Violet.

“Not really,” Violet shrugged. “Mostly on who would freak out about this date first, and I lost.”

The early morning sun was streaming through the winder between them, bathing the carpeted floor with a golden hue, punctuated by the boards stuck to the window hinges. A few birds chirped happily to the rise of a new day, while the fluttering of their wings traveled softly to the room.      

“So you’re saying that Louis hasn’t freaked out…?” Clem asked, furrowing her brow.

“Knowing him, he’s had your present on the ready since the day we met you,” Violet said, making a gagging noise. Clem smiled.

She thought back to all the good times she and Louis had had over the past year. All those stolen kisses in supply raids seemed childish at the time, but Clem still kept them close to her heart. After all, how long had it been since she’d allowed herself to feel childish? She’d had to care for AJ for almost seven years now, and her formative years hadn’t exactly been a picnic either…

In truth, the escape those small tendrils of happiness gave her was the most wonderful gift Louis had ever given her. Though she hadn’t said so to him, it had very easily been the best year of her life. If only she could muster the courage to say those words instead of rehearsing them a thousand times in her head.

After a few minutes of lingering silence, a knock came from the door, and the usual sing-song voice of Louis sounded from the other side. Clem was pulled from her thoughts as they both turned to the door.

“Violet, Aasim wants you for something!” he was saying.

Rolling her eyes, Violet walked to the door and flung it open. Louis was standing at the threshold, one hand up mid-knock and the other in his pocket. His usual smile was plastered on his face, and his eyes sought Clementine at once.

“Hey there, morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Clem said with a smile, picking up her crutches and limping to Violet’s side.

The blonde wasn’t as pleased to see him, however. “You could have just said you wanted to see Clem, no need to make up excuses,” she said in a bored tone, pushing past him and waving a lazy hand back to Clementine. “See you later, Clem.”

“Yeah,” Clem said feebly, turning to Louis. “What’s up?”

Without a word, Louis let himself into the room offering his right hand to her, his left still tucked in his trench coat. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead, making her blush. She didn’t know why she still blushed after a year of being with the most affectionate person she’d ever met, but Louis wasn’t complaining. Even with the slight elevation the crutches offered, Louis still towered over her with ease, to the point where she often wondered if his father had been an NBA player.

“Not much,” he said, taking a seat on the spindly chair by the desk, helping Clem down to sit on the bed. “Just wanted to see you, is all.”

“That’s it?” Clem asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow at his left hand. “And what’s that you got there, huh?”

He looked down and feigned surprise, making Clem roll her eyes. He retrieved his hand from his pocket and produced a small parcel wrapped in what looked to be old newspapers. A bold headline on the front claimed that ‘Stock market plummets as the recession continues.’ Whatever that was, it sounded serious, Clem thought.

She examined the small package in his hands and cocked her head, confused. “Are we having a game of Pass the Parcel?” she asked innocently, looking up from the parcel and seeing her boyfriend’s face break into a smile.

“Nope, but that sounds like fun,” he said. “What’s that?”

Clem chuckled. “It’s this British game where you pass a wrapped object around and keep removing its layers,” she explained, “and whoever gets to remove the final layer gets the parcel.”

“And how do you know of this game?” Louis asked, intrigued. “Ever been to the UK?”

“Not really,” she said, shrugging. “But I did have a British classmate back in elementary school. His name was… Mark something? I don’t really remember.”

“Sounds like a grand ol’ chap!” Louis said in a lousy attempt at a British accent, tipping an invisible top hat and adjusting an imaginary monocle.

Clem could not help but laugh at her boyfriend’s antics, looking from him to the small package still clutched tightly in his hands. Curiosity was burning inside her, yet she decided not to push him for it. Instead, she chose to expand upon their subject of conversation.

“So,” she said, leaning forward. “Have you ever been outside the states?”

Thankful for the chance to just chat about meaningless things, Louis put the parcel on the desk and scratched his chin meaningfully. He hummed a song as he thought, which Clementine recognized as ‘Oh My Darling, Clementine.’

“Well, I went to Spain with my parents when I was seven,” he said. “Some place called Majorca or something fancy like that.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun,” Clem said, leaning on her elbow. “Did you learn any Spanish there?”

“Not really,” Louis admitted, shrugging. “We didn’t really go out much, except to restaurants and shit.”

“Fancy,” she said, chuckling.

As she heard him talk about the time his dad took him on a hiking trip up some mountain or other, her mind began to wander. She thought of all the times they themselves had taken a hike through the forest, Louis helping her up fallen logs as she struggled to lift her crutches over moist soil. She always loved how passionate he became about the most insignificant things, like the movements of the moon in the sky and the shifting bugs within the forest.

Without thinking, her eyes drifted over to the parcel on the desk and by the look of it, Louis took note of that. He grabbed the package and laid it on his lap. Looking up at her, he handed her the wrapped object and waited expectantly.

“What’s this?” she asked, curiously turning it in her hands. It was rectangular and thin, much like those old VCR movies her parents used to watch sometimes. She shook it softly, expecting it to rattle, yet it made no sound.

“Open it,” he urged, gesturing to a loose piece of home-made wrapping paper.

As she tore open the newspaper, her excitement never wavered. Louis looked on in silence, a smile etched on his face, expectant. The only sound between them was of ripping paper and the chirping birds outside. When she got to the final layer, she almost dropped it from shock.

“Oh my god,” Clem gasped.

She was holding a framed picture of her, AJ, and Louis standing in front of the school. Louis stood in the middle, his left hand around Clem’s waist and his right hand on AJ’s shoulder, clutching it affectionately. The three of them were smiling widely, their cheeks flushed from the heat. Clem remembered that day vividly. It had been around three months ago when Louis had found a Polaroid camera hidden in an abandoned classroom.

The frame itself was carved with small words along the edges, snaking across the entire surface of the wood. Her mouth agape, she raised her eyebrows at Louis, who beamed. It seemed the birds outside had sensed the awe in the room, for their singing had ceased to let room for the words that Clem was trying to form. Unfortunately, none would come.

“Look closely at the frame,” Louis said, almost in a whisper, too excited to contain his voice.

Instead of pursuing speech any longer, she did as she was told. Upon closer inspection, another gasp escaped her. Etched on the surprisingly smooth wood, spreading in a clockwise rotation, were the beginning lines of Clem’s favorite song.

“Oh my Darling, Oh my Darling,

Oh my Darling, Clementine.

9 – 25 – 2011”

Words seem to come back to her at once. “Louis, this is beautiful,” she managed to say, looking up at him again.

“Happy anniversary,” he said cheekily. Clem’s eyes went wide, fear that she’d forgotten the date creeping up her spine, and Louis chuckled, apparently reading her mind. “Don’t worry, you didn’t forget. I was just too excited to wait another week, so I figured I’d give it to you now.”

“That’s nice,” Clem said, smiling softly. “How did you do this? I didn’t think that camera would actually work after so many years.”

“Neither did I, but Tenn helped me find a book with instructions on how to develop pictures. It’s surprisingly more difficult than the movies made it out to be, to be honest,” he added, furrowing his brow.

“Well, tell Tenn thank you from me later,” Clem said, clutching the frame tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh, her eyes filling with tears against her better judgment.

Louis stood and kneeled beside her, placing his hand over her right knee. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she said, dabbing furiously at her eyes. “I love it.”

And indeed, she did love it. That evening, as she paced the room once more, the framed picture of their ninja family, as Louis called them, sat on the bedside table. The downside of the gift being so incredible, Clem thought ruefully, was that now she had to work twice as hard to come up with a great one herself. How could she ever hope to compare to a beautiful handmade gift such as that?

The answer to her question, thankfully, came to her in the form of Aasim a few days later. He walked up to her as she was doing her usual walk around the perimeter. For the last few months, Aasim had been trying to grow a beard, much to Ruby’s dismay. Despite his best efforts, it was patchy on spots and did not look nearly as cool as he’d hoped it would.

She chose not to comment on it when he beckoned her to a corner of the wall. She followed his gesture and leaned against the wall, thankful for a small relief from having to carry her whole weight on one leg.

“What’s up?” she asked, intrigued.

“I heard that you still haven’t found a present for Louis,” he said, cutting straight to the chase.

“Yeah,” she said, slightly ashamed of herself.

“I got something you could give him,” Aasim said, smirking.

Clem surveyed him, scanning him for any signs of a package. When she found none, she stared at him with a puzzled look. “If you do, you hid it very well,” she teased.

Rolling his eyes, Aasim shook his head. “It’s not exactly an object,” he explained. “I just want to help you out, since Louis can go a little overboard with gifts sometimes.”

Thinking of the frame on her bedside table, she nodded vigorously. “Why are you helping me?”

“He’s my best friend,” he said simply, shrugging. “And I know he’ll love this.”

And so, Aasim relayed the information to Clementine. The more he talked, the more Clementine liked the idea. Barely twenty minutes later, the plan was in motion as Clem and Aasim made their way back into the school for dinner.

It was a testament to how excited she was to give Louis his gift that she barely slept that night, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Two nights later, she dreamed of Louis turning down her gift because it was too simple and did not compare to his. No matter how much she argued, he would not change his mind.

She woke with a start on the morning of September 25th, cold sweat running down her back and forehead. The clock on her nightstand told her it was nine-thirty, much later than she usually let herself sleep. The bed on the other side of the room was empty. AJ must have let her sleep in while he went on patrol with Tenn, she thought.

He would be seven years old soon, Clem realized with a start. Had it really been that long? With a yawn, she lifted herself from the bed and grabbed the crutches that leaned against the bedside table. She stretched her right leg, looking down at the stump on her left knee.

No matter how many times she looked at it, she was still not getting used to the feeling. Sometimes it even felt like she had it back, a tingly sensation where her toes were supposed to be. She would look down in excitement only to be disappointed time and time again.

“I guess this is how Reggie and Lee felt, huh,” she mused to herself, thinking of their amputations. Had Reggie had so much trouble adapting to his new reality? Clem surely was…

After donning her leather jacket and denim jeans – the latter was still tricky business with only one leg to support herself – she waddled over to the door and walked into the hallway to face the day ahead. Upon arriving at the courtyard, she looked around and found Aasim standing by the gate, speaking to Willy. She walked over to them just in time to hear the tail end of their conversation.

“-me know if anything’s moving around out there,” Aasim was saying. Willy nodded and turned back to his post, holding a hunting rifle they’d found in a nearby town.

When he turned, he spotted Clem standing beside one of the tables and walked up to her. “Morning,” he said. “Slept well?”

“Not at all,” Clem said truthfully, “Have you seen Louis?”

“I sent him on a supply run with Violet, as promised,” he assured her, nodding. “It’s on the other side of the forest, so you’ll have enough time to prepare for when he comes back, which should be around dusk.”

“Good, thanks.” She looked around and saw the rest of the group milling about their respective chores. The morning sun blazed above them, the last vestiges of summer lingering for a few more days yet. Despite the warm weather, the first leaves of fall had already begun to fall onto the courtyard, spraying the ground with a bright orange and yellow hue.

Ruby was using a large rake to clear a path between the admin building and the greenhouse, muttering a soft country song to herself. Tenn and Omar were discussing lunch and dinner plans for the day by the pot, apparently deep in conversation. She did a headcount in her head, coming up one person short.

She was about to ask Aasim about AJ when her question was answered. The boy had just walked out of the admin building’s doors, his trademark revolver in his hands. When he spotted Clem, as was his custom, his eyes lit up and he rushed to her, much like he’d done that fateful day almost a year ago.

“Clem, you’re up,” he said excitedly, stashing his gun in his back pocket.

“Had a fun patrol?” she asked him, ruffling his overly long hair. He’s overdue for a haircut, she thought to herself, making a mental note to ask Ruby for scissors.

“Yup,” AJ said, nodding. “I found a couple of rats in an abandoned classroom, but I couldn’t catch them.”

“Best not to try again, kiddo,” Clem warned him, frowning. “They could bite you or something.”

AJ furrowed his brow as well, thinking hard. “Can rats make you turn into walkers?”

Looking around to Aasim for assistance, Clem shrugged. The man did the same and placed a reassuring hand on AJ’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I don’t think they can,” he assured the boy. “I think Louis got bit once when we were like twelve. Had a nasty scar on his finger, but hasn’t turned since.”

“You never know,” AJ muttered, looking down in thought. Both Clem and Aasim laughed, confusing the young boy even further.

Excusing herself, Clem led AJ to one of the tables and asked him to sit down. AJ did as he was told, leaning on his elbows in the same fashion Louis did sometimes at dinner. It was uncanny how many mannerisms the boy had picked up from the young pianist.

“Anything interesting to report?” she asked conversationally, resting her chin on one of her hands, tiredness still tugging at her eyelids.

“Not really, other than those rats I told you about,” AJ replied, shrugging. “Sometimes I try to make up games to pass the time, but I’m not very good at it.”

Clem raised her eyebrows, a smile etched on her face at his innocence. “Games such as…?”

Looking down at the markings on the table, AJ said, “Um, well. Like counting how many windows there are in the entire school.”

“Sounds like fun,” Clem said, nodding. “And how many are there?”

“Couldn’t remember the numbers past seventy, but I think there’s probably a lot more.”

“Yeah, we’ll work on that a little more, how about that?”

AJ nodded vigorously, clearly eager for another session of homeschooling with the rest of the group, all of whom had added something to the table when it came to educating Clementine’s young charge.

So far, Ruby had taught him to tend to small plants, which he didn’t find particularly fun, but still pleasant nonetheless. Aasim and Louis had taught him to tie a number of knots for traps, most of which were still too complex for him to memorize them, but his spirit never wavered. Since Clem could not easily move around, Violet had taken over training him in a rudimentary form of hand-to-hand combat, which was definitely AJ’s favorite new subject.

“So,” she said, scratching the back of her head. “I’m going out of the school tonight.”

“Like, into the forest?” AJ asked, puzzled. “Why at night?”

“Just… something,” she said vaguely. “I won’t be sleeping in our room tonight either, but I’ll be back in the morning before you wake up.”

She’d been expecting some sort of interrogation, and maybe even sadness, but she hadn’t expected what came next.

“No,” AJ said simply, crossing his arms. “No, you’re not going out unless you tell me what you plan on doing.”

“What?” Clem asked, taken aback.

“I’m tired of you not telling me stuff to protect me or whatever,” he said, making air quotes with his fingers; another one of Louis’s teachings. Damn you, Louis. “Either tell me or I won’t let you go.”

Sighing, she looked back at the gate through which her boyfriend was gathering supplies for the group. She figured nothing would change the young boy’s mind, so there was no use in arguing back. She turned back to AJ and nodded, pursing her lips apprehensively.

“Alright, you deserve to know, I guess,” she said.

Taken aback by the quick change of heart, AJ’s eyes went wide and he fell silent, his mouth slightly open in anticipation.

“Today is mine and Louis’s anniversary,” she said, unsure of how to approach such a delicate subject.

“Anni – Anniversary?” AJ said slowly, his look of wonderment still present on his face. “What’s that?”

Thinking hard, Clem chose her words carefully. “It’s like… a birthday,” she explained awkwardly, tilting her head to her side. “Like a birthday for our relationship. It’s been exactly one year since he and I got together, you understand?”

“Yeah,” he replied, still looking puzzled. “But what does that have to do with going out at night?”

“You see, when you celebrate an anniversary, you give each other gifts,” she said, pointing to the window that led to their room on the inside. “Like that frame he gave me the other day. And my gift to him is hidden outside in the forest, and it’s better to give it to him at night.”

“I see,” AJ almost whispered, his eyes running the length of the table, scanning the markings that he himself had added onto. “Can you tell me what it is? Maybe I can help you.”

Clem chuckled and reached over the table, tapping his nose affectionately. “No, kiddo,” she said, shaking her head. “This is something for just us, I’m sorry.”

AJ nodded slowly, a little crestfallen. “I understand,” he told her, smiling back at her. “Thank you for telling me, though.”

She placed a soft hand over his and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.”

Sure enough, that night, Clem was waiting for Louis at the gate around dusk. The sun was beginning to set on the west, the orange tint of the sky the only evidence that it had even been there minutes before. She nervously tapped her right foot on the concrete, thinking about the route Aasim had told her to take.

“A right, left, then another left,” she was muttering to herself. Seemingly out of nowhere, another voice replied with a cheerful yet tired tone about it.

“What, did your GPS break down?”

Whirling around as fast as her crutches would allow, she now stood in front of a tired-looking Louis, whose forehead was matted with sweat. He carried a medium-sized box with a few cans of beans, tuna, and what looked like expired candy.

“You’re back,” she exclaimed, smiling. “I was getting worried.”

“Worry not, I have returned,” he said, extending her arms theatrically. “I’m starving, actually.”

“Um,” she said, stopping him from rushing to the admin building. The rest of the courtyard was already empty, as they had had an early dinner. “I was actually thinking we could go out for a walk, don’t you think?”

She gestured to the forest, where an owl hooted loudly and flapped its wings. Louis raised an eyebrow at her, puzzled.

“Is this some joke Aasim put you up for?” he said, chuckling.

Sure hope not, she thought to herself. “No, I just wanted to show you your gift,” she said in a convincingly innocent tone. “Happy anniversary, Louis.”

She reached over and planted a soft kiss on his cheek that seemed to reawaken his senses. His face parted into a grin and made sure to leave the box of stuff by the gate. When he was done, he clapped his hands together. “That’s awesome, scavenger hunt sounds like fun,” he quipped, leaning down and taking her hand in his.

The couple started walking forwards, Clementine mostly leading the way. Despite not being accustomed to seeing her stump every morning, she had become quite adept at moving around on crutches, mostly due to Louis’s and AJ’s assistance. She trudged through the muddy grounds, making sure not to sink the wood too deep into any loose dirt patches.

The dark forest loomed ahead, the full moon shining brilliantly above them like a beacon, beckoning them to go deeper. Their steps were punctuated by the crunching of dry leaves, the only sound other than their breaths and the scuttling of small animals. Louis followed Clem without a word, and Clem went through the path in her mind over and over again.

At one point, about an hour after they’d departed, Louis’s resolve was beginning to waver. She heard him clear his throat behind her.

“Hey, Clem? Where exactly are we going?” he asked, his right hand in Clem’s and his left holding Chairles loosely.

Clem took a moment to stop and look around, grinning at him. “It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I just told you now, would it?”

Louis sighed and nodded wearily. “I guess you’re right,” he said, smirking back at her. “Lead the way, Sunshine.”

Clementine chuckled as she turned and started back up the winding path. “Sunshine?” she asked, shaking her head.

“What? I think it’s cute,” he said, shrugging. “I was trying something, give me a break.”

“Alright, I’ll give it to you, it was kind of cute,” she admitted, rolling her eyes. “But don’t get too used to it.”

“Too late, Sunshine,” he quipped, picking up the pace to be on par with her and looking down at his girlfriend.

Sighing, Clem shook her head. “I guess I had that one coming,” she conceded, squinting as she looked for the signal Aasim told her would be around. When she spotted a small red handkerchief protruding from a spruce tree to their left, she knew where she was.

“We’re very close, only ten minutes left,” she told him, squeezing his hand affectionately.

“Can’t wait.”

For ten minutes they trudged through the thicket of trees that seemed to deepen the darkness around them, yet a single strand of silver light still illuminated their path for them. At long last, the small path opened up into a small pond the size of a large swimming pool. Around it, the roots of the trees shied away from the edge, yet small, white flowers blossomed on the reed-filled bank on one side.

Both Clem and Louis took in a deep breath as they took in the sight in front of them, their hands still intertwined. The lack of treetops above let enough moonlight shine through that visibility was enough to move around. They walked towards the edge of the water and around the pond to where a small clearing stood, almost expecting them to take the spot for themselves.

“Woah,” she heard Louis say as he looked around. “How come I’ve never found this?”

“Aasim said you probably haven’t wandered this far north,” she explained. Louis extended her hand to help her down and sat down beside her, setting the crutches on her side. “He claims to be the only one to know about this place.”

“Well, I’m sure Ruby knows about it too,” Louis said cheekily, smirking. Clem chuckled and silently agreed, making a mental note to ask Aasim if he’d brought Ruby here.

The couple sat in silence for a few minutes, basking in the beauty of their surroundings. The cold autumn breeze blew past them, making Clem shiver and wish she’d brought an extra layer of clothing. Louis seemed to have read her thoughts, for he took off his trench coat and draped it over her shoulders, much like she’d seen men do in those cheesy movies her mother used to love so much.

“Is this my anniversary gift?” Louis asked, looking up at the star-strewn sky.

“Uh, yeah,” Clem said lamely, scratching the back of her head. “I thought you’d like it.”

Backtracking, Louis nodded vigorously and smiled at her. “Oh, I love it! It’s very romantic,” he said, running a hand through his dreads and pulling them backward. His green shirt stuck to his body from sweat, making him seem slimmer than he was. Almost in unison, they both lay down on the bed of leaves, their hands intertwined at waist-height.

They talked about their days, Louis telling her about a couple of walkers he had to take out to get a hold of those expired candies. Unfortunately, once he’d tried one of them, his illusion to give them to AJ had been crushed. It hadn’t stopped him, however, from bringing them back just in case.

“You really went to all that effort for AJ?” she asked, tilting her head as much as she could, given her position on the ground.

“Of course,” he said, as it if was the most obvious thing in the world. “He’s your little dude. Our little dude.”

After saying the last words, Louis looked away quickly, his cheeks flushed. Clem’s eyes were wide, yet she did not flinch. As scared as she was of planning her life ahead, she knew her future, however short it may end up being, contained Louis in all scenarios.

“He really is,” she said reassuringly, placing a hand over his cheek and leaning in awkwardly. She planted a soft kiss on his lips, pulling him towards her. She heard his intake of breath as he deepened the kiss, running his thumb over her cheek.

After a few minutes, they broke apart, taking deep breaths as they regained their composure. Both their cheeks were flushed, and Louis’s chest was rising and falling rapidly.

“That was interesting,” he said croakily, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” she breathed, her eyes falling to his lips and back again to his brown eyes; the brown eyes that held so much joy in them and managed to reflect his smile every day, no matter how bleak the world may look now.

“Thank you, Louis,” she said finally, closing her eyes.

“What for?” he asked, puzzled.

Clem rose and leaned on her elbow, looking down at her boyfriend’s face. No matter how many times she had rehearsed this in her mind, the actual thing was much scarier than she’d ever imagined.

“Thank you for being there for me,” she explained, unable to meet his eyes. “For not giving up on me even when I seemed to give up on myself. In all honesty, I thought you’d leave me like a month into our relationship.”

“You know I’d never do that,” Louis exclaimed, almost defensively. Clem laughed softly despite herself.

“I know you wouldn’t,” she assured him, placing a finger over his lips to shut him up. “But that’s just how my mind works, don’t worry. And now, it’s been a whole year and we’re still together.”

Louis nodded with a smile, tilting his head as if to say, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“So I guess what I’m trying to say is,” she whispered, finding the courage to look Louis in the eyes. “I love you.”

Louis’s eyes, those that were always so confident and full of joy, opened wide as plates. His mouth fell agape and his heart seemed to have skipped a beat from the movement he made. As a response, he leaned in and placed another kiss on Clem’s lips. When they broke apart once more, they were both smiling.

“I love you too, Clementine,” he whispered, much gentler than Clem had ever heard him speak.

Somehow, they both managed to chuckle heartily, seemingly unable to keep their eyes off each other. For a few minutes, the two of them was all that mattered in the world. They were everything that was real, and everything else was just outside intrusion. No owls hooted nor frogs croaked as if the forest were holding its breath to give the couple the silence they deserved.

For minutes that seemed to stretch into hours – hell, it could have been days, – none of them spoke. Their hands rested on each other’s waists, Louis’s hand drawing small circles on a bit of exposed skin on Clem’s side, which made her giggle softly.

At the sound of her laugh, Louis smiled and kissed her again, as if he could not get enough of it. Neither could she, however, so she didn’t stop him.

This time, a sound did break their seemingly impenetrable silence. A small cricket had rested upon a small rock, drawing their attention to it. Suddenly, Clementine remembered the second part of her present.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” she exclaimed, looking around the ground, searching.

“You hid something else in here?” Louis joked, following her gaze.

“No, silly,” she said, rolling her eyes yet smiling nonetheless. “Got it!”

She was holding a small rock the size of a golf ball. Louis looked at her with a puzzled expression and waited. Clem lifted herself up to a sitting position and threw the rock in the middle of the pond, disturbing its waters as ripples exploded from where the rock had hit it. For a few seconds, Clem thought she looked foolish and thought maybe this really was a prank by Aasim.

After a few moments of pure silence, however, her prayers were answered. A small lightning bug appeared from within the reeds, lighting up like a small light bulb in the night. It flew out into the air and towards the sky before more followed. More and more fireflies were emerging from the darkness and lighting up the surface of the waters in a bright yellow hue.

“Wow,” she heard Louis whisper as he himself scrambled to a sitting position beside Clem.

Together, they watched the dance the fireflies made, wavering in the cold breeze into the autumn sky, joining their brethren toward the stars, seamlessly fading into the darkness. The scene reminded her of those times in New Year’s, when her parents would light up a balloon and let it loose into the air, joining countless others from their neighbors. The breath seemed to have escaped Clementine as she marveled at the dancing lights, and she knew Louis was thinking along the same lines.

“That,” he said from beside her, placing a hand on her thigh, “was beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” she said, making her own lame attempt at being as cheesy as her boyfriend. To her relief, he found it rather amusing and laughed.

“I think I’m rubbing off on you,” he said cheerfully, kissing her cheek. As was usual, she blushed.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, turning to look at him with fire in her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks once more. “Happy anniversary, Louis.”

Smiling once more, Louis said, “Happy Anniversary, Firefly.”

[kessielrg]

[MMZX][Mega AU] A-Trans

Summary: In which Grey realizes that he may be able to A-Trans without Model A. [I started writing this late January, but it’s been an idea I’ve had for a few years now.]

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,119 words

If you like the story, please consider buying me a coffee!

. . .

The thought occurred to him one day without much of a warning; Grey had the power to A-trans without Model A. He didn't know how he had formed the thought, but it was a powerful one. It was a thought so interesting that he didn't dare act on it until far later into the year- he needed a day where everyone was working, while Grey himself had nothing to do.

For this, it was safe to say that Aile was to blame.

When Grey wasn't placed on a babysitting mission with Ashe, he tended to spend his time with the current interim leader of the Guardians, Aile. It wasn't a well known fact, but Aile was slowly dying due to some altercation she and her brother experienced some years back. Grey liked Aile and enjoyed hearing of her past experiences. He was sure that he could have called her a friend, but he never really got around to asking if that was the case.

“You requested my presence, Commander?” Grey greeted as he entered the Grand Nuage's command room. Immediately, Aile turned her chair around to greet Grey with a smile.

“I did.” she affirmed. “Help me up, would you? We need to discuss this privately.”

Doing as he was asked, Grey helped Aile out of her seat and together they went to the commander's bedroom. Grey helped Aile down on a particularly comfy looking sofa before making sure that the door was securely locked. With that done, he took a seat next to Aile and waited for further command.

“Grey, I'm going to cut to the chase here; do you have Model A with you?”

“No.” the Reploid disagreed without a second thought.

“So Ashe has him now, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“Do you ever use Model A, Grey?”

For a moment, Grey gave the Guardians' commander a funny glance. Aile wanted something, that much he was pretty sure of, but what did it have to do with Model A? And why did her face look so passive, yet so incredibly smug at the same time?

“Commander Aile, I don't follow.” he admitted. Hearing this, Aile sat a bit straighter in her seat; in another time, had she been able to stand on her own, she would have gotten up and stood right in front of Grey to assert a stubborn dominance over him.

“I'll be blunt then,” Aile mused, “When we leave this room, we're going straight to the training room and you are going to A-trans.”

Grey recoiled in a mild discomfort. So this is what Aile wanted…

“We don't even know if I can A-trans without Model A...”

Aile reclined a bit, a small smirk crossing her face in amusement. “What was it that you told me Master Albert said? 'I made you in my image' and something about being a spare?”

“Something like that.” Grey grumbled under his breath.

“Ergo, since he had some capabilities to A-trans, that means, by all rights, you should be able too.”

Once more, Grey could do nothing but stare at Aile.

“Aile, when was the last time you saw a neurologist?”

To his surprise, she laughed at him.

“You're starting to sound like Vent.” she snorted. Grey raised an eyebrow as he allowed her to let out a good chuckle. When Aile was satisfied with her moment's reprieve, she turned her attention back to the Reploid. “Just trust me on this, just this once. If it makes it any easier, you can transform into me. You still have that DNA, don't you?”

The already confused Reploid could feel his hair stand up on end in pure shock.

“I… I can't do that.” he insisted.

“Why not?”

For this, he hesitated for a moment. Grey had always felt bad for trying to A-trans into females. It didn't really matter if they were human or Reploid, or even a Reploid that took on the appearance of something less than human, he felt bad about all of them.

“Never mind then.” Aile -who Grey was starting to notice was getting more impatient as they went on- then dismissed. “Just meet me in the training room in about 30 minutes. Okay?”

“Yes Commander,” Grey dutifully agreed, finding he didn't have much of a say in the matter. With a nod, he and Aile left the room and he helped her back into the commander chair. Despite Aile not liking when he did such a thing, Grey gave a small, formidable bow before leaving.

. . .

Grey had been in the training room for about thirty minutes before Aile arrived. The Guardians' commander was being guided in by the elbow, with help from one of their nurses.

“Do you need help? Grey asked- if only out of obligation.

“No.” Aile huffed. “If it wasn't for Vent, Rose wouldn't be here either. No offense...”

The nurse at Aile's side gave a soft smile, her face flushing a light pink, before replying in a small voice; “No offense. Vent can be very stubborn.”

“Makes for two of us.” came the bitter retort. To her nurse directly, Aile then said, “Thank you for escorting me Rose. Grey can handle it from here.”

“Of course Commander.” Rose agreed with a small bow. Without having to be told twice, the nurse then scuttled out of the training room, leaving Aile and Grey alone.

“So,” Aile mused as she made herself a bit more comfortable, “Whose DNA did you jack?”

Grey couldn't help but flinch. “I didn't know their name,” he admitted. What he could not say was that he didn't want to know, either. The closer they got to learning if he could A-Trans, the more nervous Grey was becoming. This was what Albert wanted, wasn't it? Didn't this only make Grey closer to what Albert had envisioned?

“You don't have to sustain the form for long,” Aile casually reminded him, “We're just testing a theory- not putting it into practice.”

“Today.” Grey found himself correcting. “We're not putting it into practice today.”

Aile gave a laugh so genuine and carefree that Grey almost smiled with her. It put a lot of color back into her pale face. She stopped after a few moments though, before going on to say, “The systems are already tracking your data, Grey. You can start whenever you feel like it.”

“No pressure, right?”

“No pressure.”

Grey gave Aile a partially worried nod before carefully closing his eyes. In truth, he had only used Model A to A-Trans twice in the past; the power of the Biometal too overwhelming to use too often. He could still remember how the two were about to A-Trans. It only took a bit of concentration, a little bit of remembering the structure of the DNA in question, and having the will power not to chicken out mid-transformation.

Well, visualizing the DNA wasn't that hard. In his mind's eye, Grey could clearly see the Reploid he had casually taken the DNA from. They had been about his size, with darker colored skin and a mop of jet black hair. Despite not getting a good look of their face, Grey could see that they had stunning glass blue eyes, and when they grinned, dimples would appear. In his mind's eye, Grey started to blur the individual parts of the unknown person and started place them on himself.

The skintone had been the easy part, as it was close to the tone Grey was. At first, he had figured that changing hair colors would be harder- what with them being on different spectrums. No, the change of hair color had been just as easy as adjusting skintones. But it was those eyes, those shockingly blue eyes that seemed to hinder Grey slightly. You see, they were a very beautiful shade of blue, and no matter how Grey tried, he just couldn't replicate them perfectly; like an artist trying to recreate the perfect blue sky. Eventually, Grey was able to recreate the shade just as well.

Now came the clothes. At first, this seemed simple enough. The Reploid was only wearing a simple jumpsuit over their secondary skin- polyester and cotton blend, some handmade stitching on the sides, and a bit of fraying at the sleeves. But then Grey noticed something on their wrist; a watch. It was an old analog watch, and there were details on the outside. The closer Grey tried to see the details, the more they seemed lost to him. He tried, he tried so hard, to see what the details were but failed.

Grey let out a short yelp as his arm short circuited, immediately casting him out of his mental image, and losing any progress he had in the transformation so far. If he had actually made any physical progress, of course. From where she was, Aile had flinched, but she did not look particularly concerned.

“Are you alright?” she even asked.

“Yeah.” Grey replied in a distant voice. “It just… smarted a little, I think. I'm fine.”

“Reploids don't feel pain.” Aile mumbled to herself, perhaps more troubled that Grey short circuited than she was letting on. He almost considered to remind her that he, and a good handful of other Reploids, could feel pain in even more various quantities. He even thought to tell her that he was no ordinary Reploid to begin with, but he stopped himself before he could.

“How long did it take?” he asked instead. He wasn't quite aware of it, but his hand was tightly holding his wrist. Aile cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Ten seconds.” she replied without a blink. For a moment, Grey could feel himself stagger back in shock.

“Are you sure?”

“Come look for yourself,” Aile bid to him, and to which he wasted no time in doing.

There was no reason to distrust Aile, and yet Grey still couldn't believe the results. The total test time had gone to ten seconds and twenty-eight milliseconds. In that time, the Guardians' testing equipment had picked up electronic waves of energy from his body, but nothing that could have seemed out of the ordinary. As Grey did his best to read through the rest of the report, he finally came across the mission summary. It didn't surprise him that it was a failure; what he was interested in was the reason why it had been a failure. Grey found the correct data point, and in a bold, red font, it displayed the message; INCOMPLETE SOFTWARE: Data read failure detected. Complete data info can not be read at this time. Please reenter data, or try again later.

So… the DNA he tried to copy didn't transfer correctly? Or was it saying that the Guardians' training room wasn't able to pick up all the details? Before Grey could ask Aile what it meant, a very angered voiced shouted at them,

“Why are you not at mission control?!”

Both Grey and Aile turned to the source of the voice, and were less than surprised to see Vent there. Aile's younger twin brother looked like he had been on a fruitless search to find his lost pet; in a sudden realization, Grey understood that in some degree, he had been.

“Grey and I were testing a theory.” Aile told her brother coldly. “Would you like to join us? It might be beneficial to us in the future if it works.”

That was when Vent gave Grey such a dark, cold stare that the Reploid could have sworn his core stopped functioning for a moment.

“You are not authorized to be here.” the young man venomously spat. Grey started to rebut in his defense, but Aile beat him to it.

“I gave him authorization to be here. Rose and Muguet have better things to do than remind me that I'm dying.”

Something in Vent diffused a bit at hearing this. He was still tense, make no mistake about it.

“Please,” the young man then softly begged. “Go back to the command room.”

Aile stared at her brother for a few moments before giving an annoyed sigh. “Grey,” she said to the Reploid, “Can you help me back to mission control?”

“Yes Commander.” he agreed without question. He took her by the arm, and together they left the training room without another look at Vent. For a moment Grey wondered if Vent would look over the battle data, but he was distracted by Aile tugging on his sleeve for attention.

“Keep practicing.” Aile hissed into Grey's ear. “Keep me updated on anything interesting. Got it?”

In the back of his mind, Grey wondered if he had any true consideration in the practice, but to Aile he agreed with a small, “I'll try Commander.”

[seriouslyhooked]

The Same Soul (Part 2)

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here. Chapter 1 Here.

Our world AU where Emma and Killian knew each other as teenagers. Killian was sent to spend a summer with family in America. He met foster kid Emma while there. They fell in love but then he was forced back home and she couldn’t take the memories so she ran away, trying her best to move on from the dreams they’d always hoped for. A chance meeting brings them back together years later, and this time nothing and no one will keep them apart. Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone! So thank you so much for your initial positivity and excitement about the fic. It’s inspired me to engage with this AU in a way I wasn’t planning originally, and I am so excited to keep writing and exploring this story. That being said, I’m delayed in posting because I had actually written a few more chapters of this fic and then my hard drive on my laptop decided to die. I lost the work, but not the commitment to this story or the idea of where things could go next. As such, this is take two of me trying to write this second chapter, and it actually takes place in the past. I want to explore not only the story of Emma and Killian finding each other again, but the story of how they first found each other too. This chapter is from Emma’s POV again, but rest assured we will be getting Killian’s eventually too. So, with that being said, I really hope you enjoy and I would LOVE to hear what you think. Thanks so much for reading!

Twelve Years Earlier

“And that, ladies, is how you make a personal, one-of-a-kind needlepoint pillow!”

The excitement that those words were said with was almost hard to fathom. In all her life, Emma had never met someone who would get so excited about crafting, never mind in a style that was so out dated, but she couldn’t help but smile at Mrs. Hubbard. Their activities director here in the arts and craft barn was a sweet older woman and she was the only person at this camp that Emma felt really cared about any of them. All of the other adults here either looked at camp as a job, or were alumni themselves and thus were convinced that a summer at Camp Pinewood was the most glorious and glamorous thing a girl of sixteen could partake in. It was an elite, invitation only camp, and only the best families in the area could even consider sending their girls here.

That mentality was understandably off-putting to Emma, since she was hardly glamorous by any stretch of the imagination. She was a foster kid, had been since infancy, and in the past sixteen years she’d been in nearly 20 different homes or facilities. When she was still little, it was mostly family placements, and a few had even been promising, allowing Emma to really believe she may someday find a real family to call her own. But they never worked out in the end, and for the past ten years Emma had been relegated to mostly group homes, all of which were noisy and cramped and stressful. The most recent one was the worst she’d been in yet, but it did have one benefit – an eccentric wealthy benefactress who provided a scholarship for any girl with good grades to come out here to Pinewood for the summer.

At first Emma had thought that offer was so stupid. Who would want a scholarship for camp? As a kid in the system there were about a thousand things she needed before she needed a summer trip to one of the richest neighborhoods in the country, but after a few weeks in her boisterous and bustling group home in the heart of the city, Emma was desperate for a summer away from the noise and the active dislike of her fellow lost girls. Emma didn’t fit in with the other foster kids she’d come in contact with, having been written off as uppity even though she wasn’t. At first, some of the girl’s who were staples at her group home had thought to pick on her, but everyone had largely stopped messing with her after Emma responded to a fight with a defensive skill none of them were expecting. She didn’t like to get physical, but Emma could hold her own, and she wasn’t about to let anyone mess with her when she’d done nothing to provoke it. But despite showing that she was strong and capable, the others still iced her out, making sure Emma knew that she was neither wanted nor accepted in any way.  She was a certified loner, and though that sad fact seemed to be transferring to this camp too, at least Emma had space and fresh air and some peace and quiet to go along with her loneliness.

Camp Pinewood was, according to everyone both running and attending the camp, the most exclusive summer commitment a girl could have. It ran only during the day, because it seemed that hanging too far in the woods overnight was a line a majority of these girls would never cross, but it boasted all kinds of famous alumni. There were politicians, judges, even a few actresses and other famous faces. But to Emma the exclusive club part felt more than a little out of reach. She highly doubted that her past was going to be completely washed away by rubbing shoulders with a bunch of American heiresses. No one had actually asked about her situation, and she didn’t think any of them realized she was here on scholarship from the woman whose family had originally gifted this town with the land the camp resided on, but they also knew she wasn’t one of them, and there was nothing worse to rich people than a lack of status. Most girls had come here with built in friends and enemies, and while they went about their business, Emma just observed, taking in how foreign a way of life this was before returning each night to her home for the summer – a small bedroom in the staff house at the estate of the woman who’d granted her the scholarship.

Emma still hadn’t met the unconventional old woman who made this summer away possible, and she doubted she would at any point this trip, especially since it seemed no other girl from her group home had ever actually qualified for this scholarship. Emma was the first ever to take them up on their generosity and it showed. There were surprisingly few rules for a sixteen-year-old ward of the state, and very little in the ways of entertainment for one. The housekeeper, Mrs. Dearly, had simply told Emma three things: breakfast was at eight each morning, dinner was at six thirty in the evening, and she was not to have any boys on the property. After that thirty second introduction, Emma had been shown her bedroom and pretty much left to her own devices. She saw Mrs. Dearly at meal times, but the woman was always so busy with running the estate along with her husband, that there was never much in the way of reciprocal conversation. Emma didn’t mind too much though. She’d rather have the distance between them all. It was a hopeless dream to think she could stay here when the summer was over, and if they were nicer it would be harder to keep her guard up from what would undoubtedly be substantial disappointment.

“Now I know what you’re all thinking,” Mrs. Hubbard continued, cutting through Emma’s unhappy thoughts and pulling her back to the activity at hand. “You are wondering who you should give such a thoughtful gift to.  Now sure, these pillows are great to keep, and there are any number of people you could gift them too, but a good choice might be a special someone in your life. I know a few of you have boys you’re sweet on, and any good beau would love a pillow like this!”

Emma bit back a wince at the thought of sharing this terrible pillow with anyone. She had absolutely no artistic ability, and while she’d been able to follow the structural instructions well, creating a strong and sturdy pillow, her needlework left a lot to be desired. She’d been trying to make a dog, but if she had to choose a mammal that it looked most like she’d say it was an elephant. Well, an elephant if elephants were kind of weirdly wobbly along the back and had some legs that were longer than the others. Okay, fine, she had, at best, created an amoeba like shape, but still she wouldn’t cut into Mrs. H’s enthusiasm. The woman was so nice that Emma didn’t have the heart to tell her that even if this was a fantastic pillow it would still be weird to give to a guy. Boys her age didn’t want handmade and carefully stitched decorative pieces, and honestly, Emma struggled to think that there had ever been a man in any time or place who would welcome such a gift as a sign of affection.

“Jesus is she crazy?” One of the ruder campers in the back asked in a harsh whisper. Emma made a point not to ruffle feathers, especially in a new place, but there had been a number of times where this girl in particular, Catherine Parker, had tested that strength. “I know she’s practically prehistoric, but she doesn’t really think we’d give these to anyone does she? Talk about delusional.”

“Yeah, totally nutso,” one girl responded.

“Seriously disturbed,” another agreed.

“I don’t even know why she still works here to be honest. I mean I know she’s been here forever, but at some point we’ve got to bury the fossils, you know?”

Emma couldn’t help the eye roll that escaped as she listened to this ridiculously ageist and asinine commentary, but she made sure to let it loose when Mrs. H was looking elsewhere. She didn’t want their instructor to think this was aimed at her or her ideas, because no matter how out there they were, Emma still appreciated them. All of Mrs. Hubbard’s suggestions came from a good place, and Emma would never disrespect that when she knew how rare it was for adults to really try their best to do right by kids their age. Luckily, before her peers could say anything else that Mrs. H might hear, the camp bell rang, alerting them all that this particular class was over and that the day at camp was now done with it. It being Friday, Emma knew that most of these girls were off to extravagant ‘barbecues’ (AKA what rich people called fancy parties as long as they were outside during the summer) or beach-side soirees until Monday came, but Emma would just be hanging around. Maybe she’d take a real walk around the town, or head to the public ocean access (which was still nice, but too pedestrian for the rich girls at this camp apparently), but whatever she ended up doing, Emma knew it would be a solo adventure, just as all of her outings tended to be.

The rest of the girls practically sprinted from the room and to the parking lot where their drivers awaited them. It was a mad scramble to get out of here each day, since no one ever seemed to carpool (honestly, even pitching the idea would probably make Emma a social pariah), but Emma wasn’t in the same rush as them. She’d be walking the back trail to the estate, which was directly adjacent to the camp property. She had no strict curfew and no place to be, and she planned to make her fifteen-minute walk back leisurely and relaxing. Emma wanted to enjoy the summer heat and the sun a little more. This wasn’t a forever place for her, and come the fall when she was headed back to school, she wanted to be sure she’d soaked as much of it in as she could.

“Thanks for the lesson, Mrs. H,” Emma said by way of goodbye, and she was taken aback again by the fact that this woman always appeared shocked when she said thank you. Sure, Emma hadn’t noticed anyone else doing the same when a class ended, despite their ‘good breeding’ and etiquette lessons, but still, it was basic politeness.

“You’re very welcome, my dear. Any fun weekend plans?” Emma shook her head at the question and Mrs. H only offered a smile instead of anything like pity, which Emma appreciated. “Well good things have a way of finding us in their time. I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself, Emma. See you next week, all right?”

Emma agreed and headed out, finding the path towards her summer quarters with ease, and setting out on the solitary journey. It was quiet out here, but also not at all. The ambient hum of the natural world was so different to anything Emma ever experienced back in the city. The birds, the bugs, and the breeze all played a musical part in their own way as the sun filtered in through the canopy above. This forest was bursting with life, and some smaller animals filtered in and out her path. If she pushed away reality for a little bit, Emma could almost pretend she had a completely different life. Out here, in the mostly untouched woods, she could be part of a totally separate world, one with knights and pirates, kings and queens, or whatever else she wished. This could be a journey through the past or a jaunt into the fairytales she’d secretly loved as a kid. It was the kind of place her imagination could go wild, and after spending so many years just trying to survive, it was amazing to have the space to just dream of new places and new adventures to embark on.

In the midst of these daydreams, however, a noise sounded out in the woods around her that startled Emma. It sounded like something was running in her direction, something big. She heard the crunching the earth below as feet pounded on the ground, and a foreboding rustling through bushes. Emma had very little time to prepare for what it could be, and her first thought was that maybe it was a bear or something. She didn’t think they were very common around these parts, but what did she know? Yet no sooner had she really begun to edge towards panic, than the culprit behind her worry came into the light. It was a dog in the end, granted a really big dog (she hadn’t been so far off with the bear guess in terms of size), but one that was friendly if the wagging tale and huge doggy smile were anything to go off of.

“Hey there, buddy. Aren’t you cute?” Emma asked and this seemed to make the dog even happier. It came lumbering towards her, pressing its head into her side and Emma laughed, crouching down to give the dog some love.

She’d always adored dogs ever since she was a little girl, and though she never spoke these wishes out loud, a dog was absolutely part of her dream for a family and a home. Kids in the system weren’t allowed pets, but Emma knew that they should be given them. Animals could go a long way in making life less lonely. But instead of dwelling on that, Emma just enjoyed this fleeting moment with… she looked at the collar on this big beautiful brown beast, but there was no tag and no name she could read.

“Are you lost, girl?” Emma asked and unwillingly her hope began to rise. Maybe this dog needed a home too, but just as she asked, she heard sharp whistle and a voice sounding out further in the woods.

“Missy! Here, girl!”

“So not lost, just hiding, huh Missy?” The dog barked happily and Emma couldn’t help smiling, even if she was a little sad at the fact that this dog would have to go soon. She was just so cute and affectionate, and Emma was so pulled in that she must have missed the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Oh thank God, you found her. She’s not usually a runner but she took off and…”

The stranger’s words faded away, and Emma turned to look at who had said them. When she did her heart clutched in her chest. Holy cow this guy was cute, and Emma had simply not been expecting it. Her brain hadn’t gone so far as to sketch out what she thought Missy’s owner would look like, but even if it had, she never could have made this. His hair was dark, and he was taller than her and maybe a year or two older. He looked strong and capable, carrying himself with a confidence that was quiet but pronounced, and Emma’s eyes moved across his chest to his arms which were muscled, tone, and tan from the start of summer. As Emma took him in, she couldn’t help thinking he was beautiful and far more handsome than any boy she’d ever met. Hell, maybe she was still dreaming, and this boy wasn’t real at all. He looked like something from the pages of a storybook, a tall, dark, and handsome hero just waiting to swoop in and save the day. But while Emma felt spellbound by this man on the whole, his eyes were the thing she kept coming back to. They were the most striking about him, all intense and blue and almost magical, and currently they were looking at her with this depth of emotion Emma couldn’t understand. For whatever reason he seemed just as taken aback by her as she was of him, but she didn’t get why. Emma knew she was just ordinary, but this guy… well, he made her feel like maybe she was more all along and simply didn’t realize it.

“Uh, hi,” Emma finally said after they’d both been staring for a little longer than they should. “You must be Missy’s owner.”

“Killian, Killian Jones,” he said immediately though she hadn’t intentionally asked him to introduce himself. Then he offered his hand and Emma was surprised. People their age didn’t usually greet one another this way, but she could tell he wasn’t from here. His voice was coated by a delicious sounding accent. British maybe? Emma didn’t know. All she knew was that she liked it. A lot.

“Emma Swan.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he said, and though Emma didn’t detect any malice or artifice when he said that, her walls automatically came up again. Sweet as the words were, it was a total line, and a pretty cheesy one at that. Never mind the fact that it made the butterflies in her stomach go all kinds of crazy to be called beautiful by a boy like him. She didn’t have the time or the inclination to get to know a player, and he was probably a big one based on this game he was throwing her way.

“Right. Well I’m gonna go. See ya, Missy,” she said before pivoting in the direction of the estate.

“Wait!” 

The word from Killian was desperate, and it halted Emma in her tracks. She looked back at him and she could see his regret all over his face, and she couldn’t explain why, but she found it really endearing. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t ashamed of how much he felt. He was completely open, and Emma found that comforting in ways she never expected. As someone who was so rarely candid with her feelings, Emma saw his bravery in being so and yearned for the courage to be that way too. 

“I’m sorry about that, I know that was bad. I mean I meant it, you are beautiful, but I know that’s a corny thing to say and, well, I just don’t usually do this. You know... this,” he said as he waved between them. He must have realized that his hand gesturing wasn’t actually an explanation of what he was thinking so he cursed and then he apologized for cursing before accidentally cursing again.

Emma watched as Killian ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up further while also signaling how flustered he was. At the sight of this nervous tic, Emma found herself smiling, and when he looked completely shocked at that, she couldn’t help but laugh. It was funny after all, because here was this guy who from one look seemed out of her league, but he was bumbling about and falling all over himself over her. Her, Emma Swan! That was just wild, but Emma found she really loved it despite her lingering hesitations.

“You’re not from here, are you Killian?”

“What gave me away?” He asked with a responding grin that made Emma’s pulse quicken.

“You mean aside from the accent and the handshake?” she joked and he nodded. “I can just tell. You’re not as put together as the people here.”

He looked stricken for a moment and Emma rushed to clarify. “I didn’t mean it like that. Not in a bad way, it’s just I spend all day at this camp with girls who are so concerned with how they look and how they act, and you’re different. It’s refreshing, I think.”

“You think?”

“Well the jury is still out after that line you laid on me.”

“God that was bad. I’ll never live that down, will I?” he asked, but Emma could sense the humor in his words as he groaned at his own badly coordinated introductions.

“Do you want to?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“Yes,” he replied seriously. “If given the chance, I would very much like to make it up to you, Emma.”

“Okay, then prove it.”

So he did. Over the next hour or so, Killian rose to the challenge as they walked together on different paths through the woods, and Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much in her life. It turned out Killian was really charming and witty, along with being distractingly handsome, and when he wasn’t so overwhelmed with first meeting someone, he was so naturally himself. It amazed Emma how comfortable they became with each other in such a short amount of time, just talking and playing with Missy when she demanded it, but Emma realized part of the wonder of all of this was because she’d been craving this kind of connection for so long. She’d never had a friend, at least not a really good one, and though she was certainly attracted to Killian, she had to admit that she also liked him for more than his looks. He had a great sense of humor, and they sparred verbally more than once, making Emma feel not only like someone understood her, but that they really saw who she was when so few people ever had.

“I hope you won’t think this is a line, Emma,” Killian said after they’d had a solid laugh at a story Killian told her about him and his brother getting in trouble when they were kids. “But I have to say that even though we’ve only just met, I feel like I’ve known you a long time.”

“It’s like we’re kindred spirits,” Emma said in agreement, quoting one of her favorite stories and then realizing Killian probably didn’t get the reference. “It’s from a book -,”

“Aye, Anne of Green Gables,” Killian filled in and Emma was surprised, and her shock only seemed to amuse Killian. “My Mum read it to us when we were kids. It was one of her favorites.”

A quiet moment fell between them, and though Killian didn’t say anything else, Emma could tell that conversation about his mother was in some ways painful to him. Emma would never pry, but she found that she really wanted to know what it was that Killian was going through. If she could help in any way she would, but she didn’t want to push him. Emma knew first-hand how hard it was to talk about the scars that she carried, and nothing hurt worse than being forced to revisit bad times because someone else demanded it.

They sat there quietly for a little bit, and though Emma kept expecting an awkwardness to descend upon them, it never came. It was nice to have someone there, even if they weren’t talking, and Emma hoped Killian felt the same way. He said as much a few minutes later, and Emma was thrilled to know that he agreed with her assessment, but unfortunately she couldn’t linger in this new found connection for much longer. The sun was starting to sink lower in the sky, and soon enough it would be dinner time at the estate. She didn’t really know what would happen if she missed the meal, but she thought it best not to find out, especially so early in the summer. 

When she broke the sad news that she should be heading back, Killian offered to walk her, and though she told him he didn’t have to, Emma didn’t fight him when he insisted. His determination to see her home safely made her feel special and important, and Emma knew that despite a bumpy first impression, Killian was a really remarkable person. No one had ever been this thoughtful towards her or had shown her this kind of attention, and instead of running like she normally would when someone tried to get close to her, she decided to give Killian a chance, no matter what hurt may come of it in the future. The only problem was that their walk back was over too soon, and Emma found herself wishing she had some way to make this moment last longer or to ensure that they could somehow see each other again.

By the time they arrived at the gate outside the staff house, Emma was still struggling to find something to say. From here she could see the window to her room and the many others in this large house. But ultimately her hands were tied. She couldn’t invite Killian in; that was like the one rule here, and it was one she couldn’t break and expect to stay. She also couldn’t ask him for his number because she didn’t have a phone and she was terrified he’d ask her why, prompting her to have to tell him about who she really was and what her life was really like. Damn it! Why did this have to be so hard?

“What’s your opinion on fairs?” Killian asked randomly, and Emma raised a brow even while the corners of her mouth began to curl upwards. 

“Fairs? Like with the games and fried food and Ferris wheels?” She asked and he nodded. “Well I don’t know, really. I’ve never actually been to one.”

“Never?” he asked, but before Emma could grow uncomfortable with her admission he pivoted, as if he could read her discomfort and wanted to ease it. “Well I haven’t been to one in a long time, and never in the States. But I was walking around town earlier, and I heard some people talking about one that will be here this weekend. I thought maybe you’d like to go.”

“With you?” Emma asked and Killian cleared his throat before nodding.

“Aye, with me,” he said and Emma nearly sighed at the way his words washed over her with that dreamy accent of his. Still, she took a moment to consider. 

This felt like a really big deal. Emma was so used to being alone and she’d built up defenses against other people so that she didn’t get attached. Seeing Killian again would put those boundaries up at risk, but even now Emma knew he’d made an impact. In fact, he’d created such a good memory in her life just from their meeting today that she didn’t think she’d ever forget him. And as for her instincts, which she had always trusted, they were screaming at her to say yes, because if she didn’t she’d always wonder what-if, and she didn’t want to wonder. For once, Emma wanted to know what it was like to invest in someone else, and to live a little instead of just surviving, and she felt like Killian was a person she could trust enough to try and do so.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

His responding smile was so bright and animated that Emma almost couldn’t take it. She tried shifting her stance a bit to try and cover up some of her own excitement, but Missy had crept up on her while Killian had been asking about the fair, and in order to avoid stepping on her paws, Emma jolted the other way. Unfortunately, Emma’s sense of coordination caught up with her actions too late, and she stumbled more than a little bit. It would have been mortifying, but Killian’s hands came to steady her, pulling her towards him as they did, and Emma felt warmth and electricity springing through her. Her eyes flew up to his and she saw the undeniable look of yearning in his cerulean gaze, and without any words said between them she knew that he felt this too. He was just as affected by this as she was, and it felt like magic. She swallowed harshly, barely breathing, but not daring to move at the risk of breaking the spell that swirled around them.

“Careful, love,” Killian whispered with a gentle sweetness and a hint of swagger that left his blue eyes sparkling. “We’ve a date tomorrow, and I need you in top shape. It would be a shame to miss anything when it’ll be your first time.”

“So it is a date?” Emma blurted out.

She felt her cheeks flush when she realized what she’d asked aloud, but Killian only smiled before he boldly brought his hand up to brush against the place where her blush colored her freckled skin. His fingertips lingered for only a few seconds before curling a lock of her hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. Emma shivered at the gentle caress, and her lips parted ever so slightly. Jesus, how was this possible? Sometimes he was flustered and a little clumsy in his manners, but Killian could also be this composed and seriously sexy figure. She felt like her heart would fly straight out of her chest it was hammering so harshly, but he was totally in control and confident almost to a cocky degree. It was maddening and dizzying, but also filled Emma with a thrill that she adored and wanted more of.

“Aye, love. It’s a date. Can I pick you up here, say seven o’clock?” 

Emma nodded, and though words failed her for a moment, she knew her smile must say it all to him so clearly. She was excited, more excited than she had ever been, and that outweighed all the nerves she had from this being an actual date. She’d never actually been on a date before and she was terrified in some ways. But for whatever reason, she knew that it was worth facing the fear. Whatever happened, Killian would see her through, and though it defied rationality and logic, Emma held close to that fact she just knew to be true. 

“I guess I should go in,” Emma hedged and though she could see the little flecks of regret in his eyes, Killian nodded. He stepped back, removing his hands from her body and leaving her missing the sensation of having his skin on hers. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, and Emma smiled, delighted at the promise at all that was to come.

As she walked back to her summer home, Emma appreciated that neither of them actually said the word “goodbye,” because she hated to think this was over. In her lifetime, Emma had experienced too many goodbyes. People always seemed to leave her, and though she’d largely hardened herself from the pain of those farewells, Emma didn’t think it would be so easy with someone like Killian. He sparked something in her, something that had been dormant for maybe all her life, and if he left she worried that spark would leave with him. Even as she headed through the wrought iron gate and towards the house, Emma wished they didn’t need to wait until tomorrow to be together again, and she couldn’t help pausing at the door and stealing another look at him. He was still there with Missy, as she knew he would be, waiting to see her safely inside, his gaze never having left her though he could have already headed home. In that moment, Emma knew he was choosing her, putting her first, and making her feel like she was the most precious thing to him. That was huge and heavy for having just met someone, but Killian was right before – it didn’t feel like they’d only just connected. To Emma it felt like this was always meant to be, and like she’d been unknowingly waiting for this all her short but lonely life.

Post-Note: So there we have it. As I mentioned, I had actually written a version of this chapter before and I am so bummed that I lost it when my computer glitched out. But that being said, I feel like this version still accomplishes what I wanted. I really wanted you all to see what Emma’s life has been like and what her situation is before meeting Killian, because it will certainly change now that fate has brought them together. That being said, next chapter will definitely be from Killian’s POV so we can get some of his story too. Not sure when that will be posted, but doing my best to keep my muse chatty and engaged. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I hope you’ll all let me know what you think!!